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#but ive been tapping along at it for like. maybe a week or so now and its like yeah time to open up my notes app. where was i. hey WHY
eddiesghxst · 5 months
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Meeting Eddie years after you’ve both graduated highschool and everything he’s was picked on or bullied for being nerdy about is so hot and attractive and arousing to you and he’s like this girl is actually an alien why didn’t I meet sooner 😩🙌🏽
ugh you’re in the same college psych class and on the first day you sit near the back and eddie’s rushing in a little late so he just takes the closest seat to the door which happens to be right next to you.
your professor makes the class do icebreakers and well it’s safe to say that eddie is one weird fucking guy but holy shit something just does it for you
it starts with tiny shit, like you saying “i like your ring, where’d you get it?” and it’s a pentagram ring and eddie’s like um…that’s new, never had a chick like that one, but okay.
and then it progresses as time goes on: “cool ink, ive always liked bats, they’re just adorable!” and “i like your nail color. you should do a deep red next, it would look good on you.” and “i like your hair today, eddie, it’s cute.”
cute?! nobody’s ever called eddie fucking cute. he thinks about it all day, and somewhere along the lines eddie’s mind twists it to where you basically just said he was cute, not just his hair. whatever, same thing.
and then the touches come. laughing at his shitty jokes and placing a hand on his bicep. gently tapping his thigh to get his attention to ask a question about to upcoming paper. gently squeezing his arm as you smile and wave with that fucking adorable, “see you on monday!”
what the fuck?
nobody’s ever been this way with eddie and he thinks you might be a figment of his imagination when you ask him about all his nerdy shit like, “how’d your dnd campaign go last night?” because god, you really remembered that? even after eddie practically rambled about it for decades, he’d assumed you were just being nice.
and then you ask eddie if he’d like to study together sometime, and now you two spend every tuesday at the library in the private study rooms, and you hardly ever get any work done because you and eddie just talk the entire time but you both love it.
and eddie wishes your “study sessions” weren’t just once a week but he’s like 99.9% sure you’re just doing this out of the kindness of your heart, so he’ll be damned before he asks to hang out more and make you suffer through more of his insanely intricate and confusing theories about lord of the rings, or the thousands of ideas he has for a dnd campaign, or how excited he is for the new iron maiden album.
but then one day you’re both walking to your cars after class and you turn to eddie to ask, “do you maybe wanna go out sometime? like watch a movie or eat or something— like…. like a date?” and eddie just looks at you like there’s no fucking way this gorgeous human being is asking me out on a date right now.
he takes a moment to respond, “…why?”
“why… do i want to go on a date with you?”
“i—…. yeah, like… why?”
“oh. well, because i like you, obviously.”
and well, eddie thinks you’re the weirdest person he’s ever fucking met, but you’re cute and you make him laugh so he’d be a fool to ever say no to a date with you.
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Eddie's Kissing Lesson #3: It's way more than kissing now
(Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | AO3)
A few years ago, Eddie made a habit of driving to Indianapolis. Inevitably, he ended the trips at a club or a bar. The visits were usually solo affairs, though not always; sometimes Donnie or Zac (the only ones in Hellfire who looked old enough to get past the bouncers) or Callie (who didn't look old enough, but who could charm her way in), would tag along. If they did, they'd go to a straight club. If he was by himself, he'd roll a die between a straight or a gay one. No matter the kind, he'd be approached at least twice every night. Beautiful strangers with appreciative eyes, a drink in hand and a line ready on their lips.
Eddie would accept the drink, flirt for a second, then tell them he 'wasn't interested, but thanks anyway'.
It was half true – he was interested (fuck, was he interested), but also… not. He'd never say it out loud, but even at his horniest there was something in his way. A roadblock. Because the thing was, intimacy required, as one might suspect, intimacy. Although, one night stands walked hand in hand with alluring anonymity. Like being watched without risking being seen.
Eddie liked that, most of the time. Liked shrouding himself in a mystery. But when it came to sex, he wasn't so certain. Something instinctual told him it wouldn't be truly good unless it was real. For it to be real, walls would have to come down. Leave an unobstructed field of view for wide-open eyes. Terrifying and exhilarating; he wanted it so bad, but he couldn't (wouldn't) have it with just anyone.
It had to be special.
So, he accepted the drinks, flirted for a second, and sent the beautiful strangers on their way.
Steve writes with a rhythm. It goes tap-tap-tap-tap with the pencil on the pad while he thinks, followed by scritching, before he pauses to tap-tap-tap some more.
It's strangely endearing, not to mention relaxing. You'd expect a guy like him to be rough, leave imprints on the papers underneath and constantly break the point, but no. His large hand is soft as it writes. Eddie could fall asleep to it. A shame they're too busy to sleep.
Star Trek IV came out a week ago and the kids, Dustin especially, have been obsessed ever since. The moment they stepped out of the theater, the little twerp turned to Eddie and begged for a science fiction-themed campaign. And because he's a chump who can't say no to the kids nowadays, Eddie agreed – to a one-shot, not an entire campaign.
(Also, he's already been crafting a solar system for a potential space exploration-campaign on the down low. Why not finish and use it?)
And because Eddie Munson doesn't do half-measures in these circumstances, he spent the next week worldbuilding and polishing his new universe. At one point, as he put the finishing touches on the water planet's cuisine, Steve peeked over his shoulder and asked about sports. Eyebrow raised, Eddie said 'what about sports'. And that's when Steve snottily pointed out that Eddie had developed everything about these space cultures except for the sports, which didn't make any sense – sports was a huge part of every culture, whether Eddie liked it or not.
So! Because Eddie Munson does not do half-measures… he's currently creating extraterrestrial sports games in Steve's kitchen. Although, right now Steve's doing most of the work. After Eddie came up with the base concepts, Steve stepped in to use earth sports as inspiration for the technical aspects: rules, scoring, player positions, player numbers, playing fields, seasons (which ties in with the climate of each planet), and so on.
If he's being honest, he'll never use most of this. God knows the kids (except maybe Lucas, but he wouldn't bring it up) wouldn't notice or care about the absence of sports. But. Turn down an opportunity to hang out with Steve? Never. Also, deciding how much of real baseball should inspire their thinly veiled version of space baseball (spaceball) is kind of fun? What's a penalty and what isn't is just exciting when you throw anti-gravity into the mix.
Most importantly, it's nice seeing Steve be in his element. Dude is so fucking knowledgeable about this. Hearing him say that this will score x points because of that reason, confidence dripping from every syllable, has Eddie's tailbone tingling.
Would it be rude to swipe their notes off the island and jump onto it, offering himself like a buffet?
He knows he's allowed. Or, he knows that Steve wouldn't mind if he asked for a break, even if it was to make out. They've made a habit of sucking face when it's just them and there's nothing else to do (or when there are things to do, but they're easily ignored). Question is if he truly wants to interrupt those soothing pencil scritches and put an end to Steve's surprisingly sexy thinking face. He's got a little furrow between his eyebrows while chewing on his bottom lip, and every so often he'll mutter hoarsely under his breath. The fact that he's being so serious about doing this for the campaign, for the kids, for Eddie, is…
'Unreal' is what Eddie would've said nine months ago. Now he knows it's entirely in character. It's still noteworthy enough for him to memorize every detail of this moment. The King creating nerdy sports with the Freak is a picture that must be immortalized.
He doesn't realize how hard he's been staring until Steve looks up from their work, raising his brows in a silent 'what is it?'
Eddie shakes his head, warmth creeping over his cheeks. He pushes off the kitchen island and turns away to hide it. The sink is conveniently right there, so he grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills it as excuse.
Behind him, the pencil hits the pad, rolling across the paper. Steve's footsteps are deliberately loud, telegraphing his advance over the surge of running water. Eddie fills the glass, drinks it in one gulp, and puts it on the counter. When he turns, heart thudding, Steve is standing inches in front of him. Steve leans forward, bracing his hands against the counter on either side of Eddie's waist. Boxing him in, but not trapping him.
"Did you want something?" Steve asks.
Eddie crosses his arms casually and shrugs. "Not really."
"Huh. It seemed like you wanted something."
"I was admiring your dedication to the campaign. It warms even this barren heart that you'll partake in nerdestry for the sake of the children."
"Oh, okay," Steve says and doesn't move; his hands remain on the counter and his face stays inches away. His eyes shine like suns, hot and intense. Eddie meets his gaze, face schooled into something calm. At least, he hopes – years of DMing have taught him how to regulate his expressions, but there's a big difference between DnD and this.
"Did you want something?" he asks to fill the silence and – yes! – his voice didn't tremble.
Steve grins. "Now that you say it, I did."
And with that, Steve kisses him.
The initial second, Eddie's brain shuts off, as it always does. It's simply too much too fast and all he can register is Steve Steve Steve. His taste, his scent, his firmness as he presses against Eddie and backs him into the kitchen cupboards.
But only the initial second. After that, he's back on, and that means he's on. Loping his arms around Steve's neck, Eddie tilts his head at the perfect angle until their mouths fit together just so and licks the inside of Steve's mouth. His hands delve into product-stiff locks and tug the way Steve likes it. Steve moans, slumping against Eddie. Eddie giggles into the kiss. He fucking loves knowing Steve better than his own back pocket, loves coaxing these reactions out of him, loves when he melts and leans his weight on Eddie.
It could be better only if they were horizontal and on a bed, or couch, or the fucking floor, and he'd get to feel the hair on Steve's chest and legs, the jut of his hipbone, and his evenly distributed weight. He so badly wants to know how heavy Steve is. He wants to be fucking crushed underneath him.
Maybe he could if he asked. Or maybe that'd be too much. The only time they've gone past second base is during the spontaneous blowjob he still can't fathom happened. Since then, their hands and mouths have stayed strictly above the waist. Eddie, though he's dying to blow Steve, is not going to complain or rush. Steve's the teacher here; he decides the curriculum.
All Eddie can do is show off the results of his rigorous practice. Today, it's by slotting their faces together like a pro and perfectly executing that tongue-sucking move Steve seems to love having done to him as much as he loves doing it to others. It brings a guttural noise out of Steve; he grabs Eddie's ass with both hands and yanks him closer. Eddie nearly loses his balance and must cling to Steve's neck to stay upright. Laughter rumbles within Steve's chest as he steadies him and rolls their hips together. The neck of his shirt bunches in Eddie's vice-like grip. They're as close as during that first kiss, no room for Jesus' finest hair between them. Eddie feels Steve's heartbeat, which means Steve can feel his, and the combined thud-thud-thuddings have his knees shaking.
Steve's hands round Eddie's hips and tug at his belt buckle. Eddie jerks back, breaking the kiss; a string of saliva still connects their mouths. Steve's eyes are enormous, more black than hazel. There's a question in them, a plea for permission.
Eddie nods and doesn't look as Steve opens Eddie's jeans and pushes them down his thighs. His face is on fucking fire. You could fry eggs on his cheeks. Which is a little debilitating. This is never how it goes in his fantasies – he's a lot suaver in those. Quicker on the ball, so to speak. On top of things, one could even say. But not here. Because here's an unfortunate fact about sex:
It's embarrassing.
Exciting and sexy and fun, obviously. But also embarrassing. It was the same during the blowie. The moment his pants were coming off and his dick popped out, Eddie was more inclined to run away than anything else. Hopefully, the feeling will fade as he gets used to it. These hopes are supported by how at ease Steve is, going from de-pantsing Eddie to unbuttoning his own jeans like it's nothing, second nature.
Eddie couldn't look away from that if he wanted to. Why would he want to? Steve's dick is a sight to behold. It's the eighth wonder of the world. Worthy of worship, of a dozen temples and daily sacrifices. It's long and thick, smooth and symmetrical, flushed at the tip and with a bead of precome already pooling in the slit.
It's pretty. And it's hard. It's hard for Eddie.
"Hey." Steve cups Eddie's face, tilting his head up (as well as bringing to his attention that his mouth's been hanging open like a fool; Eddie's teeth clack when he shuts it). "Is this okay?"
Eddie nods, breathing harshly through his nose. "Okay. So okay."
Steve smiles like Eddie just did him a favor. Eddie could – would – analyze that a little closer, except Steve lines up their cocks so that they rest against the broad expanse of his palm, rest against each other, and-
That's another guy's hand on Eddie's dick. It's another guy's dick on his dick. Steve's. Steve Harrington's dick. Next to Eddie’s.
Hoooooooooly shit.
It's happening right in front of him, and he's still having a hard time believing it. But it's real; it has to be real. Imaginarily gifted as he might be, not even he could daydream this into existence. Like, the way Steve's fingers curve around their cocks as he squeezes and strokes? The scratchy calluses on his fingertips? The ever-present chill of the Harrington mansion? How Eddie's testes keep catching on Steve's shaft, rising and rubbing against the dry skin? Steve's softly labored breaths? The edge of the fucking countertop digging into Eddie's lower back?
That's real. Uncomfortably and amazingly real.
Steve pauses to spit in his palm; Eddie whimpers out loud. When Steve resumes stroking it's just amazing, the glide so much easier now. It lets him go faster, put his hips into it and grind their pelvises together. Eddie keeps whimpering, these shamefully squeaky little ah-ah-ahs that he tries to swallow until Steve moans, hotly against the shell of his ear, that he sounds so pretty and sexy and "fuuuuuck, Eddie, wanna hear you like this every day."
He stops holding back then. Gets even louder when Steve noses along his jaw and sucks what'll surely become a mark at the underside of it.
The saliva has rubbed off but the glide is only improving, thanks to the precome dripping everywhere. Both are leaking, but Eddie especially – he's so fucking close. He tries to say it, but his skull is full of cotton and he can't form the words.
Steve must have some sixth orgasm sense, though, because he presses his lips to the scar on Eddie's cheek and mumbles, "So good, baby, you're doing so good, so perfect, wanna hear you come, wanna see your face, looked so pretty last time, almost made me cream my pants-"
Eddie screams. Head tossing back, lungs bursting, as he slouches against the counter. Most of all he'd like to sag to the floor and nap for an hour, he's that spent. But he can't – Steve hasn't come yet, and there's no way he'll go without again.
"Steve," he says. "Whaddya wan' m' to… C'n I…?"
The syllables slur together; he takes Steve's dick in his hand while licking his lips, hoping the point comes across. He just wants to make him come. 'How' doesn’t matter, as long as he's the one doing it.
Steve, thankfully understanding, puts Eddie's other hand on his cock, molding them tightly around the shaft, and rocks back and forth. Eddie almost whines a little since… well, he honestly has never before been so keen on having a cock in his mouth. Like, Steve towering over him, holding his head in place while fucking his throat? Yes and please, Jesus Christ, amen!
But this image is also pretty good: Steve's face inches away, pink with exertion and arousal, fringe plastered to his forehead, mouth kissed raw, and him thrusting wildly into Eddie's closed fists. Eddie's gaze darts between it and the throbbing cock in his hands. It's the second he's ever touched, after his own. It's a bit like jerking himself off, except a million times better, despite the kinda awkward angle.
Steve makes a noise, reedy and desperate. Eddie's eyes snap up just in time to see the climax wash over him, his mouth dropping into a perfect 'o' and his half-closed eyelids fluttering in pleasure. Ridiculous, beautiful, intoxicating; Eddie could become addicted to it.
Sighing, Steve lumbers forward to flop his head into the crook of Eddie's neck. Eddie drapes his arms over Steve's shoulders, probably smearing body fluids on his shirt. Neither says anything – they simply hold each other and breathe.
It's been a while since Eddie last was in Indianapolis. Been even longer since he visited a club. After some time, rejecting willing strangers and going home with bluer and bluer balls, no one to blame but his own fucking hangups, got old. Why waste the gas when he could just as well be getting no dates and not laid in Hawkins instead?
Except here he is, sweat sticking his shirt to his skin, hair frizzing around his ears, come drying under his nails. Standing with his dick hanging out in Steve Harrington's kitchen, with Steve Harrington in his arms.
He's sure he could've gotten this exact experience in a gay club bathroom years ago.
"Rather unhygienic doing this in the kitchen, hmm?" Eddie says.
Steve grunts, grossed out, but shrugs a shoulder. "I'll disinfect it."
Eddie giggles, and so does Steve, rubbing circles over the scar tissue on Eddie's hips. Burrows farther into Eddie's neck and makes no indication he'll move anytime soon.
Yeah, Eddie could've had this in a club. But he couldn't have had it with Steve in a club. Couldn't have felt this swoop in his stomach, like he's at the top of a roller-coaster, anywhere but here. Couldn't have felt this special.
You're ruining me, he thinks as he pets Steve's head.
Do you know that? he wonders when Steve ducks away, griping about what a pain it is to get semen out of hair. Squinting, Eddie asks how he figures. Steve blushes and laughs and doesn't reply, eyes glittering.
Can you see it?
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Not tagging anyone except @piratefishmama because she's the reason this exists in the first place. Also, I'm pretty sure she's even more excited about this than I am, so. Here you go, girl. I hope you enjoy this very late continuation.
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thevestigeofvanillaan · 5 months
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Bullworth Academy.
south park - bully scholarship edition (2006) au.
part one.
sorry this is SO delayed.. ive been so busy and my phone broke but hopefully this is good enough for now, the juicy stuff is coming soon guys😭👍.
content: swearing, stereotypes, hateful/discriminatory comments, groping of a minor, "y/n", smoking, >18 characters, alternate universe (characters aren't canon), alcohol, lot of dialog, talking through facial expressions (partial)
summary: at bullworth academy, you'll never get your way. beyond the cliques of jocks, nerds, greasers, preppies, bullies, and even non-clique students; are a bunch of assholes who attempt to make anyone's life harder with the snap of their finger. and when you met the people in the cliques, you realize how real it all was.
tags: @h-harleybaby @p1-f1 @hannah-h-pleb @milkyhere @cristuit @z-zephyrr @bro-flov-ski @59candelas
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"Don't forget your suit case in the trunk!" Your mom said as she pulled in front of the large black gate.
"Not gonna." You reply, scoffing at her giggly tone. She's gonna run off and have a blast without having to take care of her teenage daughter, isn't she?
She pouts, "You know this is for the best, darling. I mean, you have been acting like a fool at your normal high schools; so maybe a change of scenery will do it for ya."
You sarcasticly smile and slam the door, walking to the trunk to grab your bag.
Grunting, as it's heavy with your needs for however long you'll be sleeping in those damn girls dorms.
"Need help with that?" An older woman asks, walking up.
You finally get it out, close the trunk and tap on the car hard so your mom gets the message to leave. "Uh, nah, I've got it."
"You've been expected, you're a week late Miss L/N." She says.
"Yeah, who are you?" You ask trying not to sound too disrespectful as she leads you through the gate and towards the main school building.
She cacks like a dog before whispering, "The one who's fucking the principal, little brat. Get inside." Practically shoving you into the building.
It was horrendously spirited on the second week of school. Football season was pretty huge for Bullworth. They went all out.
Getting acquainted to all this was weird to say the least. You'd gotten a tour of the school and the dorms by the same woman who never actually introduced herself.
"So, 'one who's fucking the principal'.." You start. "Thanks for the tour, but I need to get settled on my own now."
With a coy smile, she says "Farewell then. Bullworth will treat one like you good." She then winks and walks away.
Couldn't tell whether that was meant in a sweet way or not. You enter the dorms and attempt to walk to your room with the background full of moaning and coughing likely from smoking. You find your way to the noise of the coughing which sounds like it's in the direction of your room anyways.
How lucky, it was in your room. Two girls, one blonde, one with black hair, both smoking a joint.
You walk in awkwardly and set your suitcase somewhere, putting ur backpack on the floor as they watch your every move.
The blonde stands up. "Hi! You're the new girl.. you're Y/N, right?" She offers the blunt to which you take a hit as you nod.
"Sure." You cough and blow out some smoke.
"I'm Bebe, and this is Wendy." She points at the black haired girl. "This is Wendy's and your room, and I'm sure you'll get along. She can be shy sometimes, but once she's used to you and smoked up, you'll love her." She introduced.
Handing the blunt back and nodding at Wendy, you make your way to sit on the empty bed.
"You been helped around by Ms. Fuckface?" Bebe asks.
"I'm assuming so." You shrug and Wendy hands you the blunt.
Bebe giggles, "Let us introduce you to Bullworth."
The duo walks you around the premises.
"You kissed my Eric?!" A tall brunette cheerleader screams.
"He's not yours, bitch!" A similarly brunette girl screams back before plunging forward and grabbing the others' hair.
"Melody Adams, and Delilah.. nobody knows her last name." Bebe says as we walk past the cat fight.
Curiously asking, "Who's Eric?.. The.. guy they were yelling about.?" You ponder around.
Bebe hums. "He's actually new too. Wrestler, fucks around, but does good deeds to keep out of shit between the cliques."
"Dreamy." Wendy adds quietly and Bebe scoffs.
She points, "There he is! Eric!"
He walks over in all his pride. "Well hello there, who's this sweet piece of pie?"
"Quit it, Cartman. This is Y/N L/N. She just started today, we're getting her to know the place better." You wave as Bebe introduces you.
You notice that Wendy squeezes a finger of yours, and has a devious look on her face when you look at her. All you do is smile back
Eric chuckles. "Alls I know is don't get into shit with any of the cliques, keep your reputation good throughout all them and you'll be fine." He winks and walks off."
"Dreamy." Wendy repeats.
You giggle, "As if. Seems kinda extra.. and—"
"Horny, right?" Bebe interrupts.
"I guess." You shrug and watch him skate until you can't see him anymore.
The bell rings indicating its lunch time. You had both classes in the afternoon so you didn't have to worry until later.
"Let's go to lunch! Show you all the cliques." Bebe winks and grabs your hand, dragging you inside the school and to the cafeteria.
Once you're there, you see the groups of people wearing different uniforms. "Over there are the non-cliques, they for the most part leave people alone and are.. lone wolves. There's not that many so you'll see Eric, Kyle, Butters, and then a bunch of other unimportant people. But they're like, the trio of the non-cliques.. that can be us just.. guy version!"
Bebe went on a mission to deeply explain who everyone was before taking you to the non-clique table. "Hey guys!"
"Shut up, Bebe." That red head she called Kyle spoke with a mouth full of food.
Butters, the blonde wearing a pink shirt reaches out a hand, "Butters, it's uh, nice to meet you." He nervously smiles as you shake his hand.
"Y/N."
"Aren't you just adorable, 'Y/N'.." Kyle mocks before laughing.
Eric scoffs, "Leave her alone, man."
He only laughs harder before standing up, "Come on, Cartman. Let's go egg some prep scum houses."
Butters hastily follows but not before he gives an awkward wave goodbye as to say "nice meeting you".
You wave back and once they're far enough to where they can't hear, you ask "Why do you all call him Cartman?"
"It's not rare for Bullworth students to be known as their last names.. don't be surprised if you're called L/N a couple times or more." Bebe responds, drinking from a water bottle in-between sentences. "Vodka." She shrugs with a smirk. "Want some?"
Contemplating before taking a large sip, you stand up. "I'm gonna go for a walk, see you soon?"
"Later, L/N." Bebe winks and you wave to Wendy who returns it.
You walk around campus on your own, earbuds plugged in and music playing.
Eventually when you're done walking, the bell rings alarming to go to class, in which you make your way to.
Scoffing to see Kyle in the same Chemistry class as you. But at least you knew someone there.
Walking up to the teacher, saying "Hi, I'm Y/n. Where do I sit?"
"Ah," He smirks. "You're the new girl."
You nod and awkwardly smile at his weird facial expression.
He wraps an arm around your waist, which was odd but you were too stunned or scared.. or.. something to even move away. His hand moved up and down the side of your waist as he introduced you to the class.
"You can sit next to Stan, sweetheart. Stan, raise your hand so the pretty girl can see who you are." The teacher says and your face scrunches up.
You see a boy raise his hand, closer to the back of the classroom. You finally leave your teachers hold and walk over to Stan.
Stan only looks at you when you sit down. And once the teacher begins teaching, Stan whispers, "He's a weirdo.. seriously. The groping? Was that really at all necessary?"
Giggling slightly, you respond, "It was uncomfortable."
"Understably. Dude's got at least 15 years on you." He laughs quietly.
There's silence until he speaks again a few minutes later. "Do you got a pencil? Don't got one ever and I think there's gonna be a pop quiz today."
"Yeah, mom made sure to give me extras because 'you need to take notes'.." You scoff and reach for your bag to grab a pencil.
When you look up, you see a familiar pair of eyes staring into yours.
Kyle.
He looked fierce. And it was then when you got a good look at him. Scar on his left eye brow. Freckles among his face. And small yet noticable beauty mark below his right eye.
As you look down for just a moment you see how his arms are crossed. The rest of his body is facing diagonally, but his eyes are on you. His posture was laid back, and his legs were manspread.
At that, you make a dirty face as to say, "What are you looking at?". His face responds with his eyebrows raising, like he was cockily saying "You.", before he smirked.
His eyes fall down to your chest and his smirk only grows. Your curiosity leads you looking down, to see cleavage hanging out of the too tight uniform.
Mentally scoffing, you look up and quirk an eyebrow, to say "Like what you see?".
He nods slowly, and only one time with a grin.
You covered your cleavage with your hand, almost like saying "Too bad.".
Sitting up and handing Stan the pencil, saying, "Keep it."
He looked at it, then at you with a crooked smile. "Thanks."
Class ended after a ridiculously long wait. There was a pop quiz, which he didn't make you take since it was your first day.
As you leave the classroom, a familiar red head catches up to you, walking beside you. "What?" You ask.
"Can't walk with the new girl? Jeez." He scoffs sarcastically.
Giggling at first. "No, you can't walk with the new girl." You respond and breifly look at him. He raises both arms as to retreat, though he keeps walking. "What do you want?"
"Wanna walk you to your room. Is that a problem?"
"Sure is. You know if you get caught by any prefects you'll be in big trouble, right? Even I know that and I just got here."
He chuckles as you both exit the school building, making your way to the girls dorms. "I'm the star student of this school. I wouldn't get in trouble."
"Okay, 'star student', what's it mean when a girl says 'go away'?" You ask, not expecting an answer.
And he didn't give one. Just kept walking by your side until you reached the building. You watched as he looked around before walking in with a smirk.
To that, you were appalled. And now you're the one making sure nobody sees him in there.
Checking around to make sure no girls are walking around you quickly guide him to your room before shutting the door.
"Okay, why are you even here?" You ask genuinely.
He chuckles. "Hang out, get to know what the new girls motives are."
"Motives?" To that, you laugh. "I have no motivation or clear purpose of being here other than the fact that my mom hates me and wants me to stop getting kicked out of regular school systems. There's nothing different or 'new' about me. I don't even want to be here so would you just—"
He cuts you off by aggressively kissing you. "God, I thought you were quiet but you're just talk, talk, talk, aren't you?"
You couldn't seem to form a sentence that would even fit this scenario anymore. Only sitting down on your bed and staring at your shoes.
Not long later is when Kyle sits beside you, you could sense he was looking at you but you didn't want to look at his face. "Wanna know my motive?" He asks.
There's silence. "Do you?" He asks once more.
To which you respond, "I'm waiting."
"To kinda make like uh, a statement. A lifestyle. To change the Bullworth way to be.. Kyle's way. You know?"
"You're not always gonna get your way." You look at him. "Nobody does."
"Well what do you think im trying to do? I'm trying to make it so it can always go my way!"
You laugh. "You're an asshole. Is this supposed to make me like you? Because it's not working."
"No." Silence appears for longer. Nobody spoke for what felt like several minutes. But you noticed how when he was thinking his leg bounced rapidly up and down.
He finally stood up. "You wanna go somewhere?"
to be continued..
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barsformars · 2 months
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A Little More
//
g - fluff
p - jongho x gn!reader
w.c - 1.2k
t.w - none
a.n - i wrote this back in 2020??? i found it in my notion drafts so i edited it a lil bit and decided to post it (i dont think ive posted this? i couldnt find it on my page)
//
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You tapped your feet impatiently to a made-up rhythm in your head, constantly glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall right behind your teacher. Urgh, class was supposed to end 16 minutes ago.
"Are we going to miss it?" Jongho turned to ask even though he had already guessed that judging from the way you were acting.
"If she doesn't stop talking right now," you leaned in slightly and replied softly, not wanting to get caught talking in class. That would just mean getting held back a little longer than you would like to. "Gosh, I'm not even absorbing an-“
You pause at the sudden quietness of the classroom, looking up to see Ms Kang with her arms folded across her chest. Uh-oh.
But before she even has a chance to call the both of you out, Jongho raises his hand, making up a lie on the spot as an excuse. "Sorry, they were explaining a question to me!" He nudges you with his elbow, which was your cue to apologise as well so that Ms Kang would just get over it.
"Alright, but next time don't discuss while I'm speaking. Got it?"
"Yep!" You rolled your eyes playfully at your table partner, he has a way of always getting out of trouble. It was just impossible for anyone to dislike him, and all the grown-ups just absolutely adore him.
Thankfully for the both of you (and everybody else), Ms Kang decided that there was no point in carrying on the lesson any further. She said that everyone looked 'too dead on the inside' which wasn't not true at all. It's just the case when school had started as early as 7.30 in the morning, only ending now at 5pm (or rather 5.20pm).
You stuffed all your belongings into your bag hurriedly before helping Jongho with his. Why does he always have a pile of loose notes and books under his table? Now, if it wasn't for how early the sunsets were nowadays now that it’s winter, you wouldn't be rushing him. You never liked pressuring anyone in any way.
"If we miss it today, we can just catch it tomorrow or whenever, you know." It wasn't that Jongho didn't like you rushing him, in fact, he doesn't mind it at all. He just rather not see you stressing over something so minor so unnecessarily.
Jongho had a point, but you really wanted to see the sunset today for whatever reason. Or actually there were many reasons. You know how there's always one week in the month where the sunsets just hit different from the other days? That's what you have observed at least, even if you didn't have any scientific information to back it up or prove that was really the case. Anyways, to put it short, the sunsets recently have been extra pretty and if you don't catch it today, you'll have to wait another month. Why? You have classes that extend way past 5 o'clock starting tomorrow.
And besides, you couldn’t wait any longer. As curious as you were hopeful, you really wanted to know who Jongho had caught feelings for. He promised he would tell you on a day the sunset is exceptionally beautiful.
"We still have a little more time left," you said, not bothering to explain your thoughts to Jongho. It's too much effort to try and properly formulate your thoughts into coherent sentences.
"Alright, let's go then." Without any warning, Jongho takes hold of your wrist, pulling you along with him as the both of you ran down the hallway, then the 8 flights of stairs and finally to the open field at the back of the campus.
After all the panting and gasping for air, you tilted your head upwards only to be greeted by light grey clouds filling up the sky. The golden rays of the sunset were barely peeking out from the back despite it extending out like roots greedy for nutrients in the soil.
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and checked the time, hoping that maybe this was only the starting and not the end. "They say the sun sets in 6 minutes, so I guess we just wait?" You suggested, already seated on the floor before Jongho could process your words.
He remained standing, looking down at you with narrowed eyes. There was definitely something wrong with whatever you had just said but Jongho couldn't tell if he or you were the stupid one here. "I think that means the sky goes dark then, no? Like when the sun completely sets....." His voice trails off as you tugged at the sleeve of his uniform to get him to sit down as well.
"I don't know, but no harm in waiting just a little while more."
"I guess," Jongho said with a shrug of his shoulders.
But a lot of things can happen in just a little while. For example, Jongho might just muster up a little more courage in this peaceful silence to confess his feelings for you. And in this little while, an amazing friendship could very possibly end, unless you saw him as a little more than only a friend.
Jongho decides not to take the risk just yet; there's no harm in waiting just a little while more. Just a little more, when he can be a little more sure of your feelings as well.
"What's with this weird atmosphere?" You joked, an attempt to ignore how fast your heart was racing right now. Lucky for Jongho, you were too busy calming yourself down that you missed the way his body immediately tensed up at your question.
"Uhm, I'm guessing that's-" Jongho points up at the sky that was very far from spectacular-"all today's sunset has to offer." That wasn't the best way to break the awkward silence but oh well...
"Can we wait 5 more minutes?" You had almost lost all hope at this point but you never know what might happened in the next few minutes. Maybe Jongho would finally decide to let you in on his crush's identity as he had promised. Because if he doesn't, then you might. And if it so happens that your feelings for him aren't reciprocated, you were only going to burden him with your feelings. You don't want that, but right now you're barely holding yourself back. "Do you even remember what you promised me?"
"The thing about my crush?"
"Mhmm..."
"Yea, I remember. But today's sunset isn't it." Jongho sighed as he leaned back on his hands, staring up at the now dark sky. "Just wait a little while more."
"Well, but I don't want to miss the timing just like we did with the sunset today so I'll just say it." Your voice was shakier but in no way more timid than usual, perhaps it was the adrenaline that was rushing through your veins right now. Because right now, you couldn't care less about the weight and consequences of your words.
"Choi Jongho, I really like you a lot."
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Hello love 🖤
Can I request Pietro playing a game with tangerine and lemon? Maybe truth or dare, or cards and tangerine is losing his shit 🍊
Love you 💕
hehhe I love this sm!! I did this as my thoughts, just as I couldn’t figure out how I would write it. also I put your other ask on this post too, it’s at the bottom. love you!! 💌
also im sorry idk how I only just saw that it said pietro ?!? I wrote this a few days ago, and I quickly read this over before posting and did not see pietro until just now 😶 my bad, ive been a scatterbrain lately
monopoly has been tearing families apart for decades !! so it will definitely be the same when you play with the twins
im thinking that you like to have game nights when you all have time to spare, maybe on weekends and you'd all be sat at the dining table. def having a couple beers with crisps, pretzels, nuts
you're all really competitive and are ruthless when it comes to games, especially monopoly!!! lem always seems to do really well, landing on all the good properties and snatching them right up. definitely cackles when he counts his cash and looks over his cards
tan would be such a sore loser, and gets really pissy bc he always lands on the shit places and/ or on lem's houses and hotels. he'd throw the money, maybe make a point about how he has none left, "fuckin' hell man, ya robbin' me,"
maybe you gave up playing properly hours ago, sipping on your drink, far too entertained watching them bicker. maybe you roll casually and the number would be on the last card tan needs to complete his set. he'd ask you not to buy it, saying he'll give you all his other cards AND money, "I will give you my strand and my last 50 quid, just please don't buy it,"
you'll be nice and leave it until lem comes around and snatches it up, snickering as he sets his cash down to pay. he'll be like, "come on mate, it's just a game," only he's winning and dominating the board
it would end with you playing on your phone, tapped out the game as they continue fighting. new rules would be added after every turn and tan would be in heaps of debt - constantly borrowing money from the bank to give to lem when he lands on his properties
tan would still be convinced he can win, and lem would just be entertaining it.. until hours go by, and lem decides to call a truce, offering a rematch next week
maybe it ends in a game of uno at the coffee table to rewind - only it's the same story again, ruthlessly slapping +4 on top of +4. he'd end up with half the deck of cards. BUT he'd give you all a run for your money for casino games though
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I think he'd be a great uncle while simultaneously being an awful brother !! he'd let his niece do things she wanted, knowing that lem wouldn't be happy. she wants to eat ice cream before dinner? two scoops won't hurt. she wants to go to the toy shop and get even more toys? no problem, uncle tan has his cards at the ready. she wants to watch tv before bed? one episode is okay surely
tho he won't always go over his brother's head, bc he respects him - but sometimes he just can't help it, he loves to spoil
he'd begrudgingly let her do his makeup. she'd be bossy, making him sit and be quiet as she brushes on purple eye shadow and crazy amounts of blush. she'd also want him to join in with her tea party, or play make-believe/ princesses with her, he'd have no choice but to play along and smile while wearing the tiara
like lem, I feel like she'd be very loud and quite full-on, so when there's finally a moment of silence, he savours it. she'd probably knock herself out from all playing and would just curl up at his side
towards the end of babysitting, tan would probs make her super hyper just to annoy lem tehe. maybe pump her full of sugar or spin her around for ages
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evacado3 · 2 years
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evie may i request a drabble of soft, loving gun? maybe like on a day off where he just relaxes with the reader? maybe a bit suggestive too, whatever you’d like i just wanna see him happy and a bit clingy lmao
YES GUN REQUEST, IVE BEEN WAITING and thanks for using evie, makes me all bubbly inside ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
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Soft Jonggun drabble
Word count: 445
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"This is new," you snickered at the man snuggling into your shoulder. He laid on top of your body, crushing you with his weight, Gun once said something along the lines of 'you'll get stronger if I lay on you awhile every day from now'.
What a shitty excuse.
"Shut up," he grumbled into the crevice of your neck. You laughed at his grumpy tone, he's such a big softie when it comes to you. "Scratch my back," he joked.
"Who do you think I am you jerk," you smack his head, eyes widening as you heard his faint laugh. Gun quickly realized his sudden expression, he coughed to cover the hearty laughter he accidentally let out.
"Fuck, don't you bring that up," Gun sighed, though he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it for the next few weeks. "AWW GUN, do that again!" you eagerly patted his back, making him actually cough at the 'gentle' taps.
He groaned as you kept rambling about his slip up, saying how he's just a big baby after all. Gun couldn't keep his grin from hiding any longer, this might be the only time he was ever grateful to Charles for the short break he gave him.
You smiled at his relaxed state, this was one of those rare moments where you don't see him exhausted and covered in blood, and you cherish everyone one of them. You felt him placing small pecks on your collar and he soon lifted himself up, giving you a sweet, long kiss on your lips.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, his hand slithered inside your shirt, caressing the soft skin on your waist.
"I love you," you whispered.
You noticed those words bothered Gun a bit, it bothered him that he couldn't return your simple gesture. Seeing the troubled look on his face made you chuckle, you knew he cared for you like no other, even if he could not express it. "It's okay Gun, I'm patient unlike you."
He only gave you a small smile before leaning in for another kiss, oh how he loved you for your patience. How you would wait for him to come home every night knowing he might not even be alive. How you know he appreciated little moments like this so freaking much he would trade his life to make this a minute longer.
But the one thing you didn't know, was that in the middle of the night, Gun would lovingly brush away the hairs on your face. He'd feel at peace looking at your sleeping figure, and soon words would leave Gun's mouth without his permission...
"I love you too y/n, so fucking much."
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This was supposably short since it's only drabble but it's really cute to me (^///^) and it somehow got longer than I anticipated. I changed my writing posts' format a little isn't it kinda cute hehe
THIS CAME OUT SO EARL WTF IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO SINCE IT WAS REQUEST LIKE A DAY AGO BUT UH so I am terribly sorry to those that requested a long time ago🧎‍♀️🙇‍♀️ and it's nearly my birthday/EXAM so I won't be active!
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merakiui · 2 years
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[iii.] ᵃ ʷᵃʳᵐ, ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉᵃ
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serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, r18 implications, violence, brief mention of blood, alcohol/intoxication chapter ii│chapter iii (you are here)│chapter iv
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Today’s Thought - Merfolk are reminded of humans when they find artifacts and skeletal remains scattered in shipwrecks. I once happened upon a pair of shoes floating on rocky waters, and not too far below the surface was the corpse. Humans often strip themselves of their second skin when they are in peril. Death carves at the fragile, eroding stonework of their minds and it produces a tragic sculpture that’s haunting to behold.
“A certain strawberry devil ranted to me about how you ought to submit your app. It was so bad I felt like I was the one getting lectured.” With a sharp tut, Cater adds in the best condescending tone he can muster, “Shame on you. You’re the worst. You’ll be cursed for a thousand years and more for such a heinous crime. Or maybe I should say you’ll lose your head instead? This is Riddle we’re talking about and that’s basically his catchphrase.” 
Scoffing, you snuff your laughter and drag the dainty nail polish brush along your fingernail. At once it’s stained in brilliant gold, a color so rich it mirrors all things wealthy and elegant—expensive finery, the retreating sun in a cotton candy sky, the polished prestige of valiant knights who don silver and return to aureate statues honoring their legacy. 
“Yeah, he got on my case this morning. Nothing new.” 
“That’s Riddle for ya. He’s had his entire life laid out since birth and now he’s going to try to mend yours. He was like that when we were in school. Always chartering courses for our academics and stuff like some pilot. All aboard Riddle Airlines, where your journey’s filled with beheadings and rules and crazy pressure! Honestly, it was a little overwhelming…” 
“First of all, keep me as far away from Riddle Airlines as possible. And secondly, who said my life needed mending?” 
“Not me,” he says in a teasing sing-song. “Seriously, though. If you don’t wanna work there, tell him. Riddle won’t know how you feel unless you let him know what's up, point-blank. TBH, it’s starting to look like you enjoy it when he scolds you. Who knew my adorable (Name) was such a devilish masochist! Where was this when we first met?” 
“Hah. You wish. I’m just glad Riddle and I are on talking terms again, even if most of it’s work-related. It’s still surprising he moved all the way out here. I wasn’t expecting he’d work at DD either.”
“Right?! It was way too impulsive! One day he calls me—completely out of the blue—and asks what you were doing with your life. I told him he should just text you to get the latest scoop, but he was so insistent that it had to be me. Eventually I gave in and shared the goss, and a week later he declared he was moving.”
“What’d you tell him?” You spread your fingers to inspect your iridescent nails. 
“I said you were getting married to a rich man who swept you off your feet, and the two of you will live in a big house and have three kids.” 
“Knowing Riddle, he probably believed it.”
Cater barks out a laugh. “JK. I said you’re working at DD and that you’re finishing your degree. That’s all.”
“Huh.”
“You don’t sound very convinced. What? Don’t tell me you think I’d give him the full truth. It pains me that you have such little faith in your bestie.”
“You didn’t, right?”
“Of course not. Riddle doesn’t need to know. Actually, what have you been up to lately? I never know anymore.”
“Says Mr. Magicam. You always know what’s going on.”
“Aha! Guilty as charged, Your Honor.”
Your hand lowers on your lap and you lean back against the headboard of your bed. For a minute you listen to the ticking clock on your nightstand while the cloying stench of nail polish assaults your nostrils. Cater doesn’t say anything and instead chooses to wallow in the silence with you. Eventually, you inhale a quiet breath and tap your phone until it’s brightened to show the outgoing call counting out every second. It breaches the ten minute mark. 
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything for you.”
“If Riddle asks about me or my life again, tell him everything’s fine.”
“Done and done! You can count on Cay Cay. Just know that he’ll continue to worry no matter what I tell him.”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you mumble, blowing on your nails in hopes of getting them to dry faster. “Do you think gold suits me?”
“Oh? Is someone going out? What a shame. And here I was getting ready to pop the age-old question.”
“Karaoke can wait. This is important.”
“No fair. I really wanted to duet with you. Some friends are coming in tonight, too. I was gonna make it a big thing.” The faux dejection in his tone has you imagining the accompanying pout. “Is it that guy again?” 
“He wants to get dinner and I forgot to buy groceries. And if I’m getting a free meal out of it, why should I decline?” 
“Using your resources wisely. Good for you,” he praises. “So what’re you wearing?”
“A black dress.”
“Have fun at your funeral. Don’t you want to wear something brighter? The sun sets in an hour, lovely.”
“It’s cute, okay! I’ll video call right now and you’ll see what I mean.” 
“I believe you.” Cater’s face appears on the screen moments later and you struggle to hold your phone without ruining your still-drying nails. He peers at you and when you catch his gaze he winks. “Where’s the dress? All I see is a cutie.”
“Gross.”
“You’re so harsh on your bestie! Cut me some slack! Can’t I shower you with my platonic affection?” 
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, look. It’s cute, right?” Flipping the camera, you present Cater with a view of the strapless, thigh-length dress as it hangs off of your doorknob. He whistles playfully. “I have to put in some effort at the very least and this is the only fancy-looking dress in my closet. I’ll find a necklace or a bracelet to match and then we’ll be good to go.”
“It’s a pretty dress for a pretty lady. I’ll give ya that. Why black and gold, though? I thought you said this guy was into sailor aesthetics.”
“He is. He likes cutesy stuff like that. Lace and frills and summery dresses. But it’s not like I can show up to a five-star restaurant in sailor lingerie.” You heave an exhausted sigh while he cackles at the mental image of you turning up half-nude to a fine-dining establishment. “I can’t afford most of what he can, so I’m trying to look rich. And… Well.”
“What?”
“I don’t feel rich.” 
“You know what they say. Fake it until you make it, cupcake. Are you worried he’ll make you foot the bill if you don’t look the part?” 
“No. But I’ve been thinking about ending things with him and I want to look somewhat presentable so he won’t judge me when I break up with him after dinner.” 
“Dine and dash? More like dine and dump. Rest in pieces, mystery guy’s heart. You’ll be remembered… But why now? Isn’t he rich? You could hang onto him for a few more months—at least until you graduate and he’s paid off your student loans.” 
It’s not real love. 
“He can’t reach all the right spots,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. 
“That’s all? Oh, how I mourn for you…” 
And I hate burdening him with the thought that it might be. 
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“I read an article about a murder that happened near your workplace. What was it called again? The Devil’s Dignity? Death? Delicacy?” 
“It’s The Devil’s Delight, and they’re saying the body was dumped there. So technically he wasn’t killed under the boardwalk.”
“Regardless, that still means someone killed and disposed of a human being.” Azul sips at his lemon water, a grim frown turning his lips down. Amidst the chatter in the palatial restaurant and the jazz band that plays notes so suave and mellow they’re practically musical caramel, your date fits into the puzzle with flawless grace. You wonder if you look as out of place as you currently feel. “It could have been you. You should be more conscious of your surroundings.” 
“It’s not going to be me. Whoever killed that man has no reason to come after me. I’m working minimum wage, I don’t have any rich relatives, I’m not worth any ransom, and I don’t have anything that can be used against me in exchange for my life. No kids, no spouse, no safe filled with a crazy, worth-killing-for inheritance. I’ll be fine.”
“There doesn’t have to be a reason. You could’ve been accessible. An easy target.” He shakes his head and sighs, setting his glass on the pristine tablecloth. “It’s too dangerous out there. You’re better off moving in with me. I recently upgraded my security system, so if anyone does come after you you’ll be safe.”
“But I already have an apartment.” You lift a butter knife from the table and run your fingernail along the blunt, serrated edges. “Besides, living together is a little…permanent. Wouldn’t it bother you if we were roommates? I’m noisy and I stay up late. I’m also unorganized and—”
“I'm aware, but what’s mine is yours. I welcome your company, no matter how noisy and unorganized it may be, with open arms.” Your silence doesn’t seem to be the answer he’s searching for because he clears his throat and schools his expression into something serious. “You’d be much closer to school and there are lots of things to do in the city. Job opportunities are plentiful.”
“I’m going to work at an aquarium.”
“Really?” Azul quirks an eyebrow. 
Wringing your hands under the table, you gaze at the golden chandelier that hangs overhead, light winking from each individual crystal like perfectly whitened fangs. “I already submitted my app and I’ve been waiting to hear back from them. So I can’t make any promises until I get a response. Sorry…” 
“No, no. I completely understand. You’re chasing your dreams, after all. It would be rude if I intervened.” 
It looks like there’s more he wants to say, but with the sudden arrival of the waiter any addition goes unspoken and interrupted. You set the knife in its rightful place while he decorates the table with your dishes. A delicious aroma wafts from the meticulously arranged portion, and it looks so picturesque that you can’t help snapping a photo while the waiter drones on about each meal and how it was prepared. You doubt the salad Azul ordered was a painstaking process, but your dish resembles an art piece swiped from a museum and recreated in food form. 
What did I even order again?
Tiny, bite-sized balls of meat have been grilled to perfection, a thin layer of grated mozzarella has been sprinkled over it like snowfall, and in the center of the dish, sitting piled amidst a black sauce, is spaghetti with a basil garnish. The creative display reminds you of tiny meat planets orbiting a pasta sun. 
“An aquarium,” Azul says after a few minutes of watching you poke at your meal, sip from your white wine, and avoid eye contact like it’s a loaded gun pointed directly at your head. “You’re studying marine biology, aren’t you? What exactly would you like to do at this aquarium?” 
“Train dolphins. No. Actually, I want to rehabilitate injured sea creatures.” You stab a chunk of meat and bring it to your lips. “Maybe live on a boat to study merfolk? Or coral reefs? Sea conservation?” 
“In other words, you haven’t the faintest clue.” His blunt declaration squeezes a laugh out of you and he sighs. “(Name), I want to help you achieve your goals. I think marine biology is a wonderful fit for you, but you can’t just skate through your degree without a solid plan. Do you want to travel abroad for your job? Do you want to settle down and live with me instead? These are questions that need answers.”
“Wait. What?” You gaze at his hand as it crawls across the table and settles atop yours like a spider cornering the unfortunate fly that fell into its dainty web. “Azul?” 
“I want to do everything I can to support you so that you’ll find the success you deserve. But I worry about you. When you live in such a grimy hovel—excuse me, a cramped apartment—and you’re barely making enough to survive… I can’t turn a blind eye to that. You know you can lean on me whenever you want. No matter what happens, I will always lend you my hand. And I hope that you’ll take it when it’s offered.”
His arm retreats from you and he reaches into the depths of his blazer, his overbearing determination freezing you to your seat. You’re not quite sure if this is the moment where all of your fears erupt and overflow like molten magma, so ferociously hot that it chars your insides and leaves your heart in ashes, but it certainly feels reminiscent of a situation on the verge of a volcanic eruption. 
Bathed in the ethereal aqua from the tropical fish aquarium, a massive display that sits in the very center of the room and stretches towards the ceiling, Azul cradles something small and cube-shaped in his palm. Before you can excuse yourself from the table, the urge to flee to the washroom more present than ever, he rises from his seat and lowers to the floor, one knee propped against the marbled tile. You stand as well and, painted in cobalt hues, it’s as if you’ve found yourself at the sea floor, shackled amidst waterlogged sailors. Fish peer at you as they pass, curious enough to watch from afar but not wishing to get between you and your date.  
If you thought you were on the verge of death before, your heart is already flatlining and lava is streaming from the volcano, snapping at your heels like the red-hot jaws of a famished devil. 
Azul is an angel in his fine suit—the king of pure, everlasting sugar snow—and he bows before you, a princess hailing from a land in shambles. Like the decrepit, abandoned ruins that reside within your chest, you want nothing more than to crumble into dust. Regret drives a stake into your side when the velvet box props open, revealing a sparkling ring with a cornflower sapphire positioned in sterling silver so glossy it reflects your shock. If such a moment can be classified as otherworldly, then you certainly feel alienated amongst Azul and the many onlookers who turn in their seats to ogle at the touching spectacle. 
“I know we promised we wouldn’t let this get too emotional,” he says, his usually debonair expression fraught with bashfulness. Hesitating for a single breath, he removes the ring from its silken coffin. Your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach, nestling amongst your intestines like a worm desperate to evade the ravenous bird that pecks at it. “But everything you do makes me feel so… Well, so emotional. There’s a better word for that, surely, but when I’m with you I lose all forms of coherency and I feel like the luckiest creature in all of this vast world. I’m honored to have met you, but I would be even more honored if you’d continue to stay by my side. Not as a friend, not as a benefit, but as mine to love. Forever and always.”
You’re trapped under the intensity in his stare as your eyes dart to and fro, searching for an escape route. Azul’s gentle voice pulls you back, a reminder that this is a reality in which you can’t just conveniently disappear from. 
“(Name), will you marry me?”
Raw horror prickles your skin when the ring winks at you in the dim light, a reminder that you’re stuck on this stage until the curtains fall. You glance at the people who watch with bated breath, eyes wide and prying. As if a noose has been fastened tightly around your neck, you lose the ability to speak and are instead forced to open and close your mouth like you’re gasping for oxygen in a tumultuous sea. You’ve always enjoyed the whirlwind of luxury that envelops you when you’re with Azul, and you’ve admired the way in which he operates with mounting adoration. But you’ve never once considered marriage. The both of you made an oath two years ago—a sacred vow that must never be broken no matter the circumstance.
You meet his unwavering stare. “Play along. Say you’ll marry me,” he whispers with a wink. In a much louder voice, he adds, “My love for you isn’t a sickness. If anything, it’s the cure-all to loneliness. I’d like to be your panacea, if you’ll allow it.” 
“I…” Tears well in your eyes and your lip quivers. “Of course I’ll marry you. I…love you, Azul.”
Those words cauterize your tongue, branding you as a liar. 
As delicate as a butterfly, Azul slides the ring onto your finger. You stare at it, and when he embraces you it feels as if you’re merely a statue of yourself—a vacant ghost who cannot return to the mortal coil she was once bound to. Your arms wrap around him and his kiss lingers on your cheek.
“And I love you. More than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs before pulling away and grinning at the audience.
His hand slides into yours and it’s a warm gesture that would have comforted you if the situation wasn’t so off-putting. Now it’s frigid and unwelcoming, a strange sensation that unnerves you. You stiffen when he squeezes it and a single tear streaks down your cheek when the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. 
“She said yes!” Azul exclaims, breathless with joy. 
The beauty of a stranger is that he can fit himself into as many portraits as he wants and you’ll never know the truth, a tiny voice pipes up. Tonight, he is a magician and you are the rabbit he’s pulled from his bottomless hat. 
Once the commotion has died down and you’ve lowered into your seat, fish-eyed and hollow, the waiter returns with a slice of chocolate mousse cake. Written on the plate in waltzing script is the word congratulations. You look to Azul for an explanation after the waiter has given his kindest regards. He folds his hands in his lap, a deceptive smirk darkening the softness of his face. 
“After the show we so graciously put on, I’d say we’re owed a free dessert.”
You run your finger through the crimson letters. They smear in delightful streaks. 
I hate this.
“Go on. Dig in.” Thoroughly delighted, he gathers a bite on his fork and holds it out to you. “Or is cake not to your liking?”
“I like it, but I think I’m going to need another drink before I eat it.”
Azul chuckles. “So it would seem.”
For the rest of dinner, you remain silent. Azul talks your ear off about all sorts of stories he finds comical, but you’re too busy staring at the ring on your finger. The lustrous gemstone looks too perfect to be real and the cake you indulged in was too sweet to be a normal dessert. You’re certain that these things are just in your head—that you’re just focusing on the negativity because of the past hour—but you can’t shake the sense that it’s all so crooked. 
After Azul pays, he escorts you to the sleek sports car waiting outside, and you catch the waiter’s eye for the final time. He offers you a courteous smile and another, “Congratulations on your engagement,” before disappearing into the glimmering grandeur of the restaurant. 
“You should consider it,” Azul tells you while Floyd, who hums along with the music that spills from the radio in upbeat harmonies, pulls out of the parking lot. You peer out the window, admiring the starless night sky and Azul’s reflection painted against the glass like a fuzzy constellation. “Living with me. It could be part of our arrangement. We would just amend the terms to suit this new addition.” 
“I’ll think about it. Your place is a little far from the diner.”
“Then quit.” A dry laugh escapes your pursed lips, but the humorless expression he wears has it sticking in your throat. His fingers trace patterns into your thigh. “I only want what’s best for you. You’re aware of this, yes? I’d do anything for you.” 
You force a small smile and place your hand over his. “I appreciate that.” 
The car speeds under an overpass and shadows overtake the inside of it. Azul’s blue eyes seem to glow like twin searchlights in a black sea. Swallowing your nerves and an encroaching confession, you submit to the comfort he provides, unable to confront the truth that towers over you. 
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“It’s an expensive ring, but if you’ve grown attached to it you’re more than welcome to keep it,” Azul suggests as he shrugs his blazer off and hangs it on the coat rack.
Ignoring him, you drag yourself through the door, kicking your heels off without much regard to where they may land and dropping your purse on the nearby crescent table, and beeline for the kitchen. With a singular goal in mind, you open the wine cabinet to peruse the selection of high-quality spirits before selecting one at random and fishing through a drawer for the corkscrew. Azul’s arms form a familiar cage as he presses himself against you from behind, pinning you to the counter like a fetal pig on a dissection table. 
“You’re unusually quiet. Have I upset you?” His lips are warm against your neck. One hand intertwines itself with yours, preventing you from prying the cork out, and you release an annoyed huff. “How many glasses has it been now? Three? Or perhaps four?”
“Two. It was two, Azul.” 
“So you do have a tongue.”
“I get that free dessert is appealing and all, but a little heads-up would’ve been nice.” Ripping your hand free, you stab the screw into the cork and twist until it’s popped free. “You promised it wouldn’t get emotional.”
“And I’ve kept my promise! Did you think I was serious when I got down on one knee? You must be more gullible than I thought.”
“It just… It startled me, okay? You can’t do stuff like that without warning me.” 
You crane your head to look at him and your frustrations slowly evaporate. He squeezes your waist, a slight smile tugging at his lips when the tension in your shoulders droops, a momentary resignation to temporary contentment. Once again, as always, you’ve fallen into his arms, reduced to nothing but putty when he shares so much as a glimpse with you. The sincerity he dons is almost tangible—a pleasant thing that’s so undoubtedly real that you have to remind yourself that, underneath the physical nature of this relationship, he does indeed care for you. 
And you care for him. But can you care enough to not leave his heart in shambles after puncturing him with the truth? 
Tonight just isn’t the night for this. 
“It won’t happen again.” He spins you around, his pelvis connecting with yours, and the sensual proximity stings more than it should. 
I’ll break it off tomorrow.
“It’s just physical. That’s all it’ll ever be. Promise me.” 
Azul’s hand finds your cheek and you lean into it, eyelids fluttering shut. “Of course,” he mumbles, stroking you with the pad of his thumb. “Just physical.”
Yeah. Tomorrow. Definitely.
“Then let’s forget about it!” You drift away from him like foam caught on a wave, devoured and disintegrated. Without thinking, you grab two mugs from the dish rack and fill them to the brim with blood-colored wine. “Drink with me.”
Smirking, he lifts his mug from the stone countertop. “Going from glittering glass to poorly made pottery… Funny.”
“It doesn’t become funny if you say the word,” you advise, clicking your tongue. “We made these mugs together.” 
“I remember.” Azul surveys the design on his with fondness. The handle is crooked and the purple octopus that has been carved into it is composed of wobbly, jagged tentacles. Nevertheless, it still manages a lopsided smile. “And they are my finest works of art.” 
With an amused snort, you lift your mug to your lips and drink. Bittersweet wine stains your tongue. “I’m surprised you still have them. That was, like, so long ago. You only did that pottery class with me because I begged and begged, but looking at them now maybe we’re better off sticking to other hobbies.” 
Leaning against the counter, he sets his mug down and folds his arms. “I’ll have you know that they'll be priceless masterpieces one day. Consider yourself lucky I didn’t toss them while I was cleaning.” 
“Someone sounds sentimental.”
“Someone should be flattered.” Limpid eyes holding summer skies rove over your body, sketching your brilliance in the forefront of his mind, and when he arrives at a satisfactory image his trademark smirk-grin blooms. “In any case, thank you for entertaining my mischief tonight. I’d say you’ve earned yourself a reward.”
His hand finds your cheek once again and you have only a moment to brace yourself before he captures your lips with his. Your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug, which has a carving of a swarm of jellyfish on it. They exist in a red ocean, bound to the pottery and unable to swim freely. Between pondering trapped jellyfish and the delicate nature of Azul’s kiss, you realize you’ve forgotten to reciprocate. Awkwardly, you search for the countertop with your mug and set it down before throwing your arms around him. 
Your lips fit perfectly against his and while the two of you exchange breath, melting against one another like ice floes in warm waters, Azul’s hands wander along your back, fingers tugging at the zipper on your dress. You break away with a low gasp, palms pressing against his chest. He peers at you with lidded eyes and you nearly drown in those bewitching blues. 
“N-Not tonight…” You glance at the floor and pray that, with enough dedicated wishing, you’ll be able to will a rabbit hole into existence. Then you could wrap yourself in darkness and live with the worms in the soil, only ever fearing intrusive sunlight and gardeners. “Sorry, I’m not feeling it tonight. I have work tomorrow and I really don’t want to be hungover and sore. Bad combo.” 
“You can call off. Tell them you feel sick. We’ll spend the morning doing whatever you want. Movies. Junk food. Video games. Are you fond of puzzles? They’re a good stimulant for the brain.”
“I’ll be sick with hickies,” you mumble, pinching his cheek between your golden nails while he fixes his lips into a convincing pout. “That’ll send a proper message.” 
“I did say I’d be your cure-all, did I not?” 
“Coming from the guy who thinks love is a sickness, that doesn’t sound very reassuring.”
He laughs. “You’re a delight, (Name).” 
“And you need to do less talking and more drinking.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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Why must you drink so excessively? 
It’s one of the few coherent thoughts produced by your hazy, inebriated mind. After bidding Floyd a slurred farewell, which he responds to with a bright, close-eyed grin and a wave, you begin the treacherous stumble towards your apartment complex. You rifle through your purse in search of your key as you trudge through the lobby and into an elevator, which takes you up to your floor and spits you out into the desolate hallway. 
Where is it? Don’t tell me you dropped your key. 
Groaning, you rest your head against the surface of your door and close your eyes for a moment of peace. Doing so only adds to your unbalance and you sway like a faulty ballerina on an uneven stage. Bracing yourself, you grasp the doorknob and freeze. 
Even through the fog that’s descended upon you, you’re certain it was locked when you left for the restaurant. Confused, you push the door open and stagger inside, slapping your hand along the wall for the light switch. Down the short hallway, your kitchen light is off and you shuffle through the threshold to reach it. 
“You sound so stupid right now,” you grumble, cringing at the unflattering grittiness in your tone. “Probably look just as stupid, too.”
Forget it. Need to find the key. Just retrace your steps. 
After turning on the lights in the kitchen, you set your purse down and exhale slowly. Uncaring whether or not you break something, you empty its contents onto the counter and search for your apartment key. Amidst crumpled receipts, pocket-sized makeup products, and a tin of mints, you learn that your key and phone are missing.
You left it at Azul’s. Wonderful. 
Sighing, you stare at the knife block that sits beside the coffee machine. Your gaze hardens the moment you realize all of the knives are missing and, with growing confusion, you take a wobbling step back and yank open a drawer. The forks and spoons are there, but the knives that usually reside there are also gone. 
Did you move them? Shaking your head, you shut the drawer. That’s not possible. You were with Azul. Did Cater come over before that? 
A faint creak permeates the space and you drop to your knees just as a blade swings through the air. Gritting your teeth, you stare up into the face of your would-be assailant had you not moved. He looms over you, mismatched eyes hiding murderous calculations. Terror turns your blood to ice and you leap out of the way just as he lunges for you, grabbing at the countertop instead of your arm. You crawl through the doorway into the living room, mind muddled with fine wine and a still-forming escape plan. Pressing yourself against the coffee table, you swallow your nerves and dig your nails into your palms with so much force you’re certain you’ll break skin. The pain grounds you momentarily, and it’s enough for logic to force its way past the curtains shrouding you.
You have to calm down.
With your heart pumping wildly in your chest, you heave a few frantic breaths, eyes flicking from the ceiling to the floor to the door that waits at the end of the hall, blocked only by the tall figure who stalks towards you.
“Good evening,” he says, his voice a mere ghost in the suffocating silence of your apartment. His finger taps against the sleek, flat belly of a knife as he considers the raw fear splayed across your face. “I retract my previous greeting. Intruders make for terrible evenings, wouldn’t you agree? I suppose I should just say hello instead.” 
Calm down. Calm down and consider your options. You can scream and—no, with this proximity he could quickly cover the distance, slash your throat, and you’d bleed out before help could even get here. What else can you do? You can find a weapon to defend yourself with. No, he hid all of the knives. For now, stall him. Act helpless. He doesn’t know anything. You can talk your way out of this.
Uncurling your fists, you brace your palms against the floor and meet his vacant stare. “J-Jade, what’re you…doing here?” Your vision swims and you blink rapidly to gain control of your bearings. “Why… Why do you have a knife? W-We’re friends, aren’t we?“ 
“Are we?” he asks, tilting the knife back and forth as if considering the worth of your relationship.
“Of course! We… We worked together! And you’re friends with Azul! S-So am I! So I don’t understand why you’d break in like this.” 
“If finding companions via association counts as true friendship, then I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken when you label me as such. Please re-evaluate your definition of friendship.” 
He’s wearing gloves and a surgical mask, so it’s obvious he’s planned this. How did he even get in? Does he have a key? Where’d he hide? Forget it. Focus on the problem and look for a solution. He has a knife. It’ll cut deep if enough speed and force are put into the stab and that’ll hurt you. Shoes are still on. How rude. You maintain eye contact, tensely waiting for him to pounce and drive the blade into your skull. No other weapons are nearby. Unless you secure a fork from the drawer and target his eyes or his throat. But that means you have to get close to him and he’s still armed. 
Dragging your legs into your chest, you watch the knife warily. Escape is possible. If you can get outside, get to the car… That won’t work. Can’t drive. Windows could be smashed. But you’d be outside. No. You can’t rely on a neighbor. Maybe Cater or Riddle? No, it’s too late. But you can get out of here. It’s possible. 
Jade glances at his feet. “Ah, my apologies. I seem to have forgotten my manners.” 
With his eyes still locked on your shivering frame, he slips his leather shoes off. And then he takes another step towards you and the thread of restraint finally snaps once he’s within range. With the majority of your weight on your upper body, you kick your legs out, driving the top pieces of your high heels into his knees as hard and fast as you can. Caught by surprise, he crumples with a hiss and the knife clatters to the floor, sliding across the hardwood.
Scrabbling to your feet, you swoop down to grab it just as Jade swipes at you. With a yelp, you jump away, landing unsteadily on your legs. Your heel skids against the floor and breaks with a sudden crack, and you can feel your ankle twist unnaturally, the muscles straining with agony. Sharp, tingling pain overwhelms you and your lips part in a silent scream the minute your shoulder makes contact with the floor. Tears blur your vision as you drag yourself towards the knife, reaching out with splayed fingers. 
The handle fits into your palm just as Jade grabs you by the arm and yanks you up. 
“For a drunk, your kick was very accurate. I’m impressed.” He tightens his grip when you struggle, a warning that doesn’t deter you in your desperate frenzy. “I should also thank you for allowing me access to your humble home whilst you were away. You’re quite the accommodating host.”
Growling, you thrash in his grip and swing the knife around in a fit of blind panic. His hand catches your wrist before you can slash his face and he shoves you to the floor. A wheezing gasp bursts from deep within your lungs and your head aches with fizzling stars. You’re certain they’re imploding because it’s as if a dozen firecrackers are popping within your skull, the explosions drowning out all other thoughts of escape. Survival is the only thing you cling to now, and if that’s attained through animalistic bloodshed you’ll do what you must. 
“Please…” you plead, grasping at nothing in hopes that something will save you. “You don’t want to do this… Don’t do this.” 
Get up! Get up! You’re going to lose consciousness if you stay here like this. You push yourself up on your elbows, grunting with the effort. It’s as if you’re ripping your arms free from a pit of molasses so thick it’s practically tar. His foot finds the small of your back and he pushes you down as if he’s simply crushing a cockroach. No, no, no! This can’t be happening. What did you do wrong? What didn’t work? Your reaction time? Your reflexes? Your combat capabilities? 
Sliding his foot off, he lowers himself onto your back and the tip of the knife digs into your temple. A thin ribbon of blood runs down the side of your face. “If you would be so generous, I’ll need the password to your phone.” 
“My phone…isn’t here.” 
His eyes narrow into disbelieving slits and his hand grips your neck with enough brutality to cow you into submission. “Is that so?” 
“It’s the truth. You can…” Vomit rises in your throat and you swallow thickly, wincing at the acidic taste of wine and bile. “You can check…my purse if you don’t believe me.”
Silence stretches taut between the two of you. Eventually, he rises to his feet and steps over you, proceeding to pick through the pile of items you haphazardly dumped on your countertop. Clenching your jaw, you lift yourself onto your arms once again, clawing at the wall for support. With a spinning carousel for a brain, you manage to stand and brace yourself against it. 
You take a daring step forward, so certain that freedom awaits just down the hall, and instantly stumble, landing on the floor with a harsh smack. Everything shifts in a swirling blur, and you can’t tell if it’s from the intoxication muddling your mind or the pain racing through your body. The urge to vomit returns stronger than ever, and you clasp your hands over your mouth, stifling a pitiful groan.
“It’s pointless to flee. You’re just exhausting what little energy you have left.” He turns to address you from where you remain on the floor, clinging to consciousness as the walls spin around in a dizzying waltz. Despite how futile it seems, you attempt to crawl away from him when he approaches. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect much when you’re in such a messy state. What an unfair disadvantage for you.”
“Hate you…” you whisper, tears brimming. “I hate you…so much.”
Just as your eyelids flutter shut, you catch his final words. They echo within your brain like the haunting hum of an Aeolian harp. 
“I’d be more surprised if you loved me.” Chuckling, he lifts your chin with his foot. “Don’t cry. It’s a hideous look for a parasite. I find it most unappealing.”
I hope tomorrow’s horoscope is better.
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burnthoneydrops · 1 year
Text
What Time Has Done (Part IV) Benedict Bridgerton x Original Character Series
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Synopsis: Emmeline Castillon has been invited to tea by none other than Eloise Bridgerton. When she somehow gets roped into tutoring Hyacinth, the youngest Bridgerton, with the literature skills she studied for, she finds herself wrapped into more than she accounted for. 
Requested: No
Word Count: 2548
Warnings: none!
A/N: here’s part four! thank you for all the love thus far and I hope you enjoy! 
Masterlist
The morning was usually my favourite time of the day. Only this morning, I could not help but feel as though I had made a dreadful mistake. Having returned home from University, the last thing I had wanted to do was draw more attention to myself than my debut already forced. Why, in God’s name, did I accept an invitation for afternoon tea from none other than Eloise Bridgerton? It is not as if I do not like the girl, as I have a feeling we are to be fast friends, I just think that maybe a few more days at home would have done me more good. Although, I’m sure Andrew will tell you that those days would have turned into weeks, into months and I would never have a hope of finding a suitor that way. My dreams of delaying the inevitable are crumbling down around me much sooner than I would like. 
Oh, what am I saying? It is a simple afternoon tea. I am never usually one for theatrics but my anxiety makes my mind a one-woman opera from time to time. Mama insists I take the carriage, even though I would much prefer the walk in the open air. As with the rest of our family, it is often difficult to persuade her one way or another once her mind is made up and therefore she will hear no more on the matter; I am to take the carriage. I tug at the sleeve of my dress as I stand in the entryway, waiting for the carriage to be brought around and Mama taps me on the back, telling me, without words, to stop my fussing. 
“This is a splendid opportunity for you my dear, and you must tell me all about it upon your return,” she smiles at me. 
“I imagine I wouldn’t be allowed past the door if I did not relay every detail to you first Mama,” I tease, hoping she catches onto my sarcastic commentary. 
“Your imagination would be correct,” she responds, and I know she took it in the way that I meant her to. With children like us, it would be hard to take everything seriously. 
The carriage finally arrives and I step into it, waving my mother goodbye as it pulls away. Even if I wanted to step back now, I physically cannot. That is, unless I wanted to end up ripping my dress on the rocky roads beneath us. I stare out the window, convincing my heart via my mind that it didn’t need to be beating so fast and that all my illusions about how horribly this could go were entirely fiction. I do not know why I am so nervous, as my family has been invited to many afternoon teas before, but this one feels different. It is not simply Mama’s friends who just happened to invite the whole family along; this is just me. Before, I could allow Andrew and Mama to take over the conversation, uttering a few affirmatives or negatives here and there. This time, however, I was to be fully engaged in the conversation, as Eloise had made it quite clear that she had a myriad of questions for me about my time studying abroad. 
The carriage rolls in front of the Bridgerton residence and I gasp. The house is absolutely beautiful and the flowers growing outside it are some of the most beautiful I have seen since my return home. English springtime really does wonders for the senses, and this is no exception. A butler walks up to the carriage door, offering me his hand as I step out. Upon my arrival at the front door, he walks speedily to where I am assuming Eloise is and announces my arrival. I hear a squeal and quickened footsteps when suddenly Eloise is standing in front of me, the biggest smile on her face. 
“Oh I’m so glad you could make it!” She exclaims, “Come! We’re just upstairs”. She grabs my arms and all but tears it out of its socket as she pulls me towards the intended room. 
I want to pause at her use of the word “we” but am not given the time to ask before we are already in the room. Her mother sits on one of the couches, smiling up at me upon my arrival. I give her a nervous smile back, not having expected her to be present. 
“You already know my mama,” Eloise comments. 
“Lovely to see you again Mrs. Bridgerton,” I greet her, feeling as though I should curtsey or something. Eloise is however still gripping my arm. 
“How wonderful that you could join us this afternoon dear. We just rang for tea, it should be here any minute,” Lady Bridgerton says, gesturing for the two of us to sit down. 
I take a seat in one of the couches on the other side of the small table, and Eloise goes to sit by her mother. Having both pairs of eyes on me makes this suddenly all too real, and I feel my heart rate begin to quicken. 
“Are you alright dear? You seem tense,” Lady Bridgerton comments. I want to chuck it up to a mother’s intuition but I doubt I’m hiding anything that well. 
“Hm? Oh, yes I am fine. Just a bit stressed,” I laugh, trying to cover it up, rather unsuccessfully I think. 
“Stressed? There is no need to be stressed. It is just us,” she responds and Eloise nods, the both of them trying to put me at ease. 
I nod, exhaling a deep sigh and running my hands along my dress. The tea is quick to follow, although the butler does not appear alone. A smaller girl with the same chestnut hair as everyone else in the family, who I remember to be Hyacinth, follows him in. Lady Bridgerton turns at the sound of another pair of footsteps and rolls her eyes. 
“Hyacinth Bridgerton, what do you think you are doing?” 
“Oh hi Mother. Are you three having tea here?” She asks innocently. 
“As if you didn’t already know,” Eloise retorts, scrunching her nose and shaking her head when Hyacinth gives her an annoyed look. 
“Enough! Before the both of you scare away our guest,” Lady Bridgerton says to the two of them, causing them both to stall in their tracks, “Hyacinth, you are to exit this room and go bother your brothers or something”. 
“But Mama! I have so many questions and seeing as Ms. Castillon is here, I figured it was the perfect time to ask them,” she proclaims. 
“Really it is not a bother to me at all if she wishes to stay,” I butt in, having been silent during this whole exchange. 
Hyacinth’s eyes light up and she smiles, running over to sit in the open spot next to me before her mother can object. “Ms. Castillon says I can stay, so I can stay”. 
“Alright, as long as you do not cause too much trouble,” her mother warns her before muttering, “you children will be the death of me,” in a loud whisper.
Eloise begins pouring herself a cup of tea before offering one to me, which I gladly take, happy to have something to do with my hands. Lady Bridgerton clears her throat before looking over at me. 
“So, I have heard many times that you have just returned to us from France, did you not?”
“Indeed I did. I was finishing up my studies over there”.
“What were you studying?” Hyacinth asks. 
“Literature and artistry mostly. I tried my hand at a few science classes but realised I wasn’t very good so my teaching skills would in turn never stretch to those subjects”. 
“You had originally planned to be a governess?” Lady Bridgerton questions. 
“Oh yes. I hadn’t necessarily seen myself being put out into the marriage mart, so I planned to be a governess. Who knows, maybe if things had panned out differently, I would be teaching Gregory and Hyacinth how to analyse literature”. I smile. 
“Oh I would love that! Can she, Mother?” Hyacinth asks, bouncing up and down slightly in her seat. 
“Well I am not actually a governess Hyacinth,” I clarify. 
“I do not care! Most of my tutors are stuffy and boring anyway. You seem like you would make it much more fun”. This time, I’m not entirely sure how to respond. 
“We did not invite our guest over so you could corner her into teaching you about books Hyacinth,” Eloise covers for me. 
“Well it is not as if you ever want to do it,” Hyacinth fires back.
“Do you read Eloise?” I ask, trying to change the conversation. 
“Fervently it seems at times,” Lady Bridgerton adds. 
“I am a lover of literature, yes,” Eloise clarifies, trying to paint a better picture for herself. 
“And yet you never want to save me from my Latin tutor when I would much prefer to read something else instead,” Hyacinth remarks, dramatically displaying her sorrow in the whole matter. “Hence why I think Ms. Castillon would be excellent”. 
“Well I suppose I could put my skills to good use. Though it wouldn’t be much of an education, more of a hobby or something along those lines,” I try, looking between Hyacinth and Lady Bridgerton for some sense of approval or disapproval. 
“It could prove quite useful. An impressive set of skills is most valuable come the social seasons. Who am I to deny my children something they love?” She finally decides. 
“So is that a yes Mama?” Hyacinth begs, once again bouncing with excitement. 
“If Ms. Castillon is alright with it, we could make some arrangements,” Lady Bridgerton looks at me. 
“I suppose if it’s alright by you all, I would be delighted,” I smile; Hyacinth’s energy is infectious. 
“Yay!” she cheers, wrapping me in a hug before sprinting off in excitement. 
“My apologies if I overstepped Lady Bridgerton. I didn’t mean-” 
“Nonsense dear, it would do dear Hyacinth well to have something intellectually challenging for her to focus on. I just hope you are ready for her”. 
“I will certainly try my best,” I nod as the sound of another pair of footsteps signals someone walking close by. 
“Mother, do I dare ask why Hyacinth-” it is Benedict. He stops as he notices his mother is not alone. “Pardon the interruption ladies”. 
“Benedict, you remember Ms. Castillon,” Lady Bridgerton motions to me and I stand, suddenly uncomfortably warm with his gaze upon me. 
“Yes I do. How nice to see you again,” he nods, his chin quickly dipping down and back up. 
“You as well,” I respond, bowing slightly. 
“She has just kindly agreed to tutor Hyacinth in literature,” Lady Bridgerton comments. 
“Ah, so that is why she is squealing like a madman and running throughout the house. You seem to have made quite the impression already Ms. Castillon,” Benedict smiles. I notice it is a more boyish smile, one that I’m sure has charmed many ladies before me. 
“Well, I shall try my hardest to live up to it then,” I chuckle lightly, feeling awkward once again. 
Something about his stare takes me out of the room entirely, and it is once again like it was at the park. Simply him and I together in a room, Lady Bridgerton and Eloise completely forgotten. His eyes reflect the water in the lake that I had so desperately wished to capture, and now I feel as though I may not need to. The perfect view is standing right in front of me. There seems to be a distant calling, sounding as if underwater. 
“Emmeline, can you hear me?” Eloise pulls me back to reality. 
“Hm? Oh yes, my apologies,” I turn to face the two ladies once again. 
“You faded out on me again,” Eloise teases, a light smile on her face. 
“It was not my intention I can assure you”. I catch Lady Bridgerton looking happily between me and her second eldest son, but I brush it past. 
“Mother, would you mind if Emmeline and I were to walk in the gardens?” Eloise asks, changing the subject. 
“I see no reason why not,” Lady Bridgerton responds, “it is a wonderful day after all”. 
I steal a quick glance at Benedict as Eloise takes my arm once again, “Wonderful! We shall return later”. 
She pulls me along through the house and toward the garden and suddenly I can breathe again. 
Back at the Castillon Household 
“Remember our deal Emmeline!” Mama calls as I step back into the house, trying my hardest to walk straight past anyone. 
“As I recall, it was more of a comment on your parenting style than it was a deal,” I respond, standing on the bottom of the staircase. 
 “Nevertheless, I would never let you attend something alone without telling me the details of the whole affair”. 
“Calling it an affair makes it sound much too nefarious Mama,” I point out, “There is no scandal to be had in this household yet”. 
“Never mind that, tell me now”. 
“I simply had tea with Eloise and Lady Bridgerton”. 
“Is that all?” she persists. 
“I might have also agreed to tutor their youngest girl in literature,” I continue, a little quieter than my previous volume. 
“You did what?” I do not look up. 
“Hyacinth seemed so interested in my literature studies and asked if I would share my knowledge with her,” I explain. 
“You agreed to be her tutor?” 
“Not as a full time position. I am not doing it for pay either. I am simply putting my skills to use”. 
My mother takes a moment to think. “Well, I suppose I should be proud that you made such an impression on one of the most influential families in London”. She gets a mischievous glint in her eye. 
“What is that look for?”
“Perhaps I am aware of the ulterior motives behind your plan,” she smirks, leaving me utterly confused. 
“The what?” 
“You wish to spend more time at their house so you agreed to tutor young Hyacinth,” she begins. 
“Yes and that is all I-”
“But really, you intend to spend more time at their house and with their family because you are smitten with Colin Bridgerton!” She exclaims, quite convinced this is the truth.
“Oh no that is not at all why-” I try my best to dissuade her. 
“Oh do not try to deny it now! I’m just curious how I did not come up with the plan myself,” my mother is absolutely beaming. 
I can hear the wedding bells chiming in her mind. I cannot think of anything else to say as she nearly skips into the kitchen, quite overjoyed with our conversation. I knew I had a reason to be anxious this morning but this was surely not it. Mama is now convinced that I am set on getting Colin Bridgerton to court me and I feel as though I cannot stop her. Realising she is probably retelling the plan to my siblings this very moment, I hurry up the stairs, wanting at least a moment to myself before I try and deal with the myriad of questions they are sure to have. 
What have I gotten myself into?
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@gyubby99 okay the public apology.
After Alistar apologized to Ella and Elias privately, the night went on without being awkward.
Well.
That's a lie. Alruna, Mia, Loreley, Eve. They were all there along with some subjects. And alistar was spotted by each one.
Dirty looks all throughout the ballroom were evident.
Then the dinner started.
"I am so happy to have you all over," Ella spoke up. "It is so refreshing for my children to make friends their own age, and for new allies to come into light," She continued. "Qnd now we must all enjoy thus wonderful feast!" She finished before the table erupted into claps and laughs.
Rosalyn nudged alistar.
"Mi amor. Now is a good time," she whispered.
Alistar gulped before stnding up and tapping his wine glass with his spoon.. everyone turned to him..
"Uh... you all know me. I am the cause of the great war. Queen ella gave me the privilege of being invited to the castle. And I wanted to take thus as an opportunity to apologize. To everyone. Including Ella and King Elias. I let anger and jealousy and fear take over my life and it effected so many people in so many different and negative ways, and I would just like to apologize," Alistar spoke before sitting back down again.
The party went on.
At the end of the night, Rosalyn walked up to her isolated husband.
"Mi amor, our carriage is here," Rosalyn stated, with Asher in her arms.
"Okay. Do you want want to hold Asher while you look for hope?" Alistar asked.
"Si, por favor," Rosalyn replied before handing off the ten year old to his father.
Alistar turned to head for the door.
"King Alistar!" A voice shouted from behind him.
Alistar turned to see who it was, only to find Ella and her friends walking up to him.
"Uh. Yes?" Alistar asked, confused.
"Id like to thank you for your public apology. My friends and I greatly appreciated it," Ella stated.
"Yes.. I only wish that in another life I could've been a better man," Alistar replied.
"Maybe you weren't a better man in the past," Mia started, "but I mean... look at you. You have a wife and kids. And from what i can see you're a good dad," she finished.
"Ive.. been trying.... it was a rocky path. Eve helps a lot, and I thank her for that," alistar replied giving a small smile to Eve.
"Alistar, you, me, and ella... we used to be all each other had. I'm not sure what happened to you, but I would personally like to be your friend again," Mia stated.
Alistar's eyes widened, and if anyone looked too close, they would notice that he was tearing up.
"I'd like that," alistar smiled.
"Uh. Mi amor?" Rosalyn asked quietly.
"Yes, my rose?" Alistar responded.
"Lo siento for interrupting but uh... hope is in the carriage. Would you like me to take asher?" Rosalyn asked.
"Uh sure. I'll be there in a bit okay?" Alistar stated as he transferred his son into his mother's arms.
"Si, yes, see you in a bit. Te amo," Rosalyn replied before kissing him and walking out the door.
"I see you and Rosalyn have been better," Eve stated.
"Yes uh.. the anger exercises that you reccomend have helped a lot. Rosa even does them with me sometimes," Alistar replied with a small smile.
Ella's eyes widened. "I haven't seen you thus happy... ever.... I'm so thankful that you're trying," Ella muttered.
"Thanks for giving me the chance," alistar replied.
Alruna spoke up. "Uh. We're all going on a picnic in a week's time. It'd be an honor if you joined us," alruna invited.
"Oh we'd love that but uh... next week is Hope's seventeenth birthday, and Rosalyn and I promised her that we'd give her a party," Alistar replied.
"Well if you can make it," Loreley began. "Then we'd be grateful,"
"I'll see what I can do. We'll uh. I'd better get going," Alistar stated.
Ella nodded and sighed before walking to him and giving him a hug.
Alistar froze. What should he do?
"I.. uh," alistar stuttered before awkwardly hugging her back.
Ella pulled away with a smile. "I hope to see you soon. My friend," she stated.
"Thank you, Queen Ella. I should be going now," Alistar replied with a smile before getting into the carriage.
"He looks better. Ya know. Not as pale. The scars on his wrists are practically gone," Mia stated to her sister.
"Yes. He seems better mentally as well. I think we've gotten our old Alistar back," Ella replied.
"Yep... we're suprising him on his daughter's birthday, right?" Mia asked.
"Oh definitely," Ella responded with a smirk.
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kindheart525 · 5 months
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WARNING: Hospital Setting and Anorexia Symptoms  ~~~~~~~~~~
“TT, honey, please be okay!”
These were the first words Triple Threat heard after her fall, after gravity defied her along with her consciousness. She had no idea how long she’d been out…minutes, hours, days? But when she came to, she wasn’t at Aunt Rarity’s house anymore.
She was in the hospital. 
Even in her barely awake, groggy state, she could see that she was surrounded by the florescencia greens and harsh lighting that were a hallmark of hospital settings. 
“Mom? Daddy?”
She weakly addressed the ponies who sat there gripping her hooves for dear life. The ones who were always there for her—their presence brought her a tiny bit of comfort in this situation.
“What happened? How long…?”
But she didn’t need to ask as she looked down at her forelegs, with all kinds of health monitors and IVs hanging from them. Her parents, with tear-stained faces from crying their hearts out with worry.
She knew exactly what happened.
Maybe the medication and the grogginess were affecting her mental state but TT suddenly started to feel emotional herself, thinking about all the crushing disappointments and self-deprivation that led her to this point. She had tried to hide her feelings for so long, but she just couldn’t anymore.
“I’m sorry!”
She started to weep, a long overdue reaction to everything she’d been going through.
“Why, T? You have nothing to be sorry for!”
Her parents were quick to put aside their own worry to comfort her, despite having barely a clue about what happened to her.
So she decided to explain.
“I didn’t think this would happen! I was trying to be healthier, thinner, maybe then Bridleway wouldn’t treat me like…”
Her parents exchanged a glance as she broke down, starting to put together the pieces.
“Is that why you dropped out?”
TT nodded through her sniffles and sobs.
“I worked so hard! But…but it was never enough! It didn’t matter how well I could sing…or, or dance, or act, because all they saw was somepony who was fat and ugly!”
At this she started bawling, harder than she had in a long time, reliving all her pain in an instant. Her parents comforted her the best they could, feeling bad that they didn’t notice all this sooner. The smaller meals, the early-morning walks, it was all clear only in hindsight.
“I didn’t want it to be like this…! I didn’t want to worry you guys, or end up here! I wanna go home!”
“You’ll be able to, honey. It’ll be okay.”
Sweetie Belle assured her, using a tissue to dry her daughter’s face like she was a foal. 
Tender Taps turned to the doctor who was monitoring from the back of the room, staying out of the family’s way until now.
“How long, doc? How long until she’s better?”
The doctor grimaced a bit.
“Once we get her vitals—“
He turned to the patient herself.
“—your vitals under control, you’ll have to stay for an extended treatment program to ensure you don’t relapse. Your heart rate is concerningly high and you’d be at high risk for hypotension—or worse—if your family didn’t bring you here so quickly. You’re malnourished, Triple Threat.”
The young mare didn’t respond as she took all of this in. She really could have died. Some ponies said beauty was pain, but she was literally killing herself over it. Not just beauty, but basic acceptance.
“The average stay is two to four weeks, and then you’ll be transferred to part-time care. It may be awhile. But it’s necessary for your health.”
TT’s parents looked heartbroken at the prospect of not bringing her home, and she felt the same way, but she understood how serious this was. No matter what was happening with her career, her health was in danger. She needed to focus on that.
She wiped her snout and eyes, trying to regain what little composure she had. 
“I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”
One issue at a time. She had to get back on her hooves.
~~~~~~~~~~
Previous: As Thin Feels Next: Lead a Horse to Water
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st4rboyhere · 2 years
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Hiiii !!! Hello !!
What if reader cheats on Eddie, not sex but someone was flirting with the reader and the reader didnt know what to do but go along?? Eddie finds out and gets angry, cue arguing and Eddie telling the reader to 'get the fuck out'.
You can end it however you'd like, I'd just like to see it written out, if you would.- thank you ♡
A/N: HIIIII IM SO SORRY THAT THIS WAS LATE
Ive only written angst once in my life and it was cringy as shit so I hope this one is better.
Thank you for the request 🫶🫶
I could be wrong but I believe you requested something else from me, if so I’ll try to get it by next week.
Cw: Mild toxic relationship, sexual themes but nothing in detail, cheating, possessive behavior, mild gaslighting, lying, insecure Eddie.
Strawberry condom
It was gone.
The hot pink flavored condom in the bottom right drawer under the television.
Eddie knew snooping through your stuff without your knowledge was wrong. There was nothing he had to worry about anyways, he loved you and you loved him.
You barley fought and dates, sex and cuddles Farley ever happened.
But something about that was just to perfect for Eddie.
Something, just something had to be wrong.
So last Tuesday he went through everything while you were in the bathroom.
A few porn tapes and magazines in the back of your closet, a makeshift flesh light under your bed, but nothing else.
Except that condom.
Why would you have a condom?
As unsafe as it was, you two never used condoms, so he just didn’t understand why you would need one.
This wasn’t old either, not something you might have dug out of the corner of your closet from junior year while cleaning up.
What made it worse was it was- wet.
Not with cum or saliva, it was just wet.
Like someone had washed whatever was on it.
Maybe, just maybe he was wrong.
You found it, old and dusty, wash it so it looked brand new and clean incase you two wanted to ever use it, and left it in the drawer.
Out in the open.
Because you had nothing to hide.
His head had stopped hurting, but here he was, a week later with a burning headache, tears beginning to form in his eyes as you held onto him close, squeezing him tightly cause you knew the second you would let go he would run.
He wasn’t even going to check for it again, in-fact he had forgotten about its existence entirely, but his stomach turned as that girl grabbed your hand, pushing your bedroom door open, and even with the loud music playing Eddie swore he could hear her gasp and the bed creak.
He was being paranoid, you would cheat on him.
The girl was a slut, drunk and was just trying to get someone in her pants before the night ended but thankfully you were sober and knew better.
But all he could think about was what you two could be doing in that room, and what was taking that long for you to just blow her off and come be him.
He gripping onto the kitchen counter to hold himself up as he started at the closed door.
That was Saturday. It’s only been two days.
He wished he hadn’t even known about the condom. Then this whole conversation wouldn’t have been happening.
It wasn’t in the garbage or another drawer, it was just gone.
And what was worse was you couldn’t even explain why.
So you two just stood in silence, your arms around Eddie as you squeezed him tightly.
Finally, you let go and looked at him in the eyes, hands on his shoulders.
“Eddie, love. I never had a condom in here.”
You tapped the drawer, closing it back and giving him a sad smile.
“FUCKING BULLSHIT,” he said, the tears starting to run down his cheeks.
He pushed you away from him, breathing become heavy as anger rose in him.
“What you telling me Im crazy now?” He screamed, voice cracking slightly.
“I-no Eddie of course no-“ you tried to reason, but he cut you off.
“Get out.”
“Eddie-“
“GET THE FUCK OUT,” he sobbed, pushing you out of the bedroom.
You tried to grab onto him, stop him but he wouldn’t.
You gave into his attempts, allowing him to push you outside.
“I- I don’t want to see you for a while.
You gave him another sad smile and sat down on the wooden floor, “I’ll wait for you.”
He slammed the door on you and collapsed on the floor, folding into a ball as he continued to cry.
Stupid Strawberry condom.
A/n:
Tumblrs been glitching for me so I’m unable to respond to any comments 😭
Please leave criticism though.
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Spotify Wrapped Prompts #20
The moon hung in the sky like half of a sand dollar and Emerson tried to fold his napkin into what he remembered being a goose.
It wasn’t quite working, half because it had been a while since his high school Mandarin class, half because the napkin was that flimsy brown shit found only in the greasiest of diners and the most public of schools, three quarters because his left pointer finger was in a splint, and about a teaspoon because he was blitzed out of his mind.
The moon was beautiful tonight, he thought as he bent the napkin this way and that and tried to remember the bit of poetry that started something like that. If one of the few souls in Griddy’s Doughnuts had asked this young man what he was doing in this little diner and when was he planning on ordering something, anyway, he would have told them that he was watching the moon. This would have been wrong on two counts: the bright white light that had captured his attention was in fact not the moon but a streetlight, and he was at the diner waiting for a friend.
He wasn’t quite sure which one of his friends had called from an unknown number and asked to meet at a little doughnut shop, at least not at this very moment. He couldn’t remember being too anxious about it, though, so it must have been someone he wanted to see.
And it probably wasn’t anyone from the party, either— they would have said something to him while he was there, and he didn’t really know most of the people in there, anyway. A friend from high school ran into him at the gas station and brought him back to their new apartment in the city for some chips and dip, and also a few swigs of alcohol, and also a handful of Strawberry Bomb or Girl Scout Cookies or Blue Eyes White Dragon or whatever the hell that pretty girl said her weed was called. Remembering the party, Emerson’s chest welled with gratitude for the kindness of strangers who say they knew you when you were both teenagers.
A teenager stepped into Griddy’s, opening the door like he had expected it to dematerialize as he approached and was, frankly, disappointed that he had to bother with touching it at all. The bell jingled in sympathy.
“Emerson,” Five said, sliding into the booth across from him. “Glad you could make it.”
Eyes wide and perhaps a little red-rimmed behind turquoise-rimmed glasses, Emerson blinked, made one last, hasty fold to the goose’s head, and reverently slid it across the table. A precious gift for a dear friend. Five stared at it. Its neck slumped over.
“I’m here,” Emerson said, as if explaining. “Right where you said. This is where you said, right?”
Five’s eyebrows slanted just a half-centimeter lower. “Emerson,” he began, feeling silly even as he asked, even as he knew the answer, “are you high?”
He pressed his hands against his cheeks, the gears in his head whirring. Five, uncharacteristically, allowed them the time they needed to turn— perhaps enjoying the smell of smoke. “Would I know if I was?” he answered, pointing his finger gun at the folded goose as a perceived gotcha.
After a moment, Five laughed into his hands. “Of course you are,” he mumbled. “Unbelievable.”
“Sorry, what?” Emerson asked, now whispering for some reason. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”
“I just asked if you had money,” Five whispered back. “We should buy some doughnuts.”
Emerson’s eyes practically sparkled in the dim light. He nodded once, twice, three times, and then started rummaging in his coat pockets.
Shaking his head, Five leaned back in his booth. “Can you believe they managed to sell this place?” he asked. “And the new owners even kept the name. Other than the, uh—“ He looked around the near-empty diner. “—cosmetic interior design changes, the place hardly looks any different. The more things change, huh?”
He was speaking mostly to himself. Emerson’s attention was focused solely on exploring the contents of his jacket pockets. With the triumph of the sun illuminating clouds from behind, he drew forth a tiny, mint-green wallet with a zipper. He placed it on the table ahead of him, right next to the slowly-unfolding goose.
Five’s eyebrows quirked. “Are you asking me to order?”
“You’re allowed,” Em justified. “You’re old enough. Even if you’re little.” He suddenly grew mournful. “And getting littler by the day.”
His fingerless-gloved hand gesticulated in a way that implied that he thought he was illustrating the concept. Five reached across the table for his wallet without looking away. “Em, do you think I’m aging in reverse?”
“You could be. Like Mork.” He cracked a knuckle with one hand. “Or maybe you’re just weathering? Off the top? From the wind. Or, no, eroding. Maybe time’s eroding you and turning you into sand.” He reached out to fuss with Five’s hair and was promptly swatted away.
“That’ll be my cue,” he said, smiling that one smile he did that felt like a punch. It didn’t quite land, glancing off Emerson’s shoulder and leaving him smiling peacefully back. Before stalking off, Five slid the black pepper shaker in front of Emerson. “Smell it,” he ordered. “Pour it in you hand, not just the shaker. And I swear, don’t eat it straight. If you think it’ll taste good you’re lying to yourself.”
Em looked at the shaker thoughtfully. As Five walked away, he gasped in realization. “Is this something you learned from Klaus? About weed?” he asked, in his normal volume. Seeing that Five was no longer present, he turned around. “Hey, Five!”
Five was leafing through Em’s wallet up at the counter. “Get me a dozen donuts, mix of flavors,” he said, in that brusque sort of way old men talk to young servers, “and a black coffee.”
“Five, did you learn it from Klaus? Is pepper a hangover cure for...” He searched for the words. “For when you’ve had drugs?” he finished, loudly whispering the last word.
“And a hot chocolate.” He spun around, exasperated. “No, Emma!” he hissed. “I didn’t learn shit from Klaus. I thought telling you to play with a pepper shaker might keep you occupied for the minute it takes me to order!” He turned back to the server with a tired, half-sarcastic smile. “Babysitting. Can’t believe I’m giving him sugar this late.”
The employee behind the counter was in their mid-twenties and working a late Friday night shift at a shitty little donut place. But in just two and a half more hours, they would be fresh out of the shower with a bottle of wine and ready to marathon the entirety of Galavant for the first time since college. So for now, they kept their customer service face on and prepared Five’s order.
He leaned against the counter as he waited, watching Emerson watch him from back at the booth. Em waved at him. He waved back.
“Sorry I was so loud,” Emerson whispered.
Five craned his neck towards him. “What was that?”
He cupped a hand— the one that was not cradling a handful of black pepper— over his mouth and leaned out of the booth. “Sorry I was so loud, Five.”
“No worries,” Five responded in full voice with a lopsided smile, projecting just a bit louder than he really needed to. “Not like there’s anyone here to care.” Em smiled softly and went back to playing with the pepper in his hand. Five watched him.
“Would you like your donuts in a box or a bag?” the server asked, dreaming of their doormat.
“Better make it a bag,” Five sighed, fishing a few bills out of Emerson’s wallet and sliding them across the counter.
At the booth, Emerson was staring at the false moon again, humming a tune so earnestly he might have been singing to the night sky.
Five returned with a bag of sticky donuts under his arm and a drink in each hand. “Here,” he said. “Sober up.”
Emerson peered into the bag, eyebrows raised. “Can I have some?” he asked, so childlike that Five just had to stare at him.
“Yeah,” Five said, the venom catching on his tongue and dissipating into the air. “I got them for you. The hot chocolate too.”
The headlights of a passing car illuminated Emerson’s face in a mosaic of triangles of light. Their eyes reflected something that Five had only seen a few times before. Then the light was gone, and Emerson seemed a little less high. “Thanks, Five,” he said, and reached into the bag for a donut wrapped in wax paper.
Five watched him eat about a fourth of the donut in one ambitions bite. He folded his hands in front of his chin. “You never really struck me as a... hobbyist substance user, Em.”
“Oh, it wasn’t mine. A friend let me smoke some. I got invited to a party.” Em finished his donut, and then waved a powdery hand. “Not you, a different friend.”
Five’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Do you consider us friends?”
“Of course,” Emerson replied, so quickly and so easily that Five wondered if he was answering a different question.
The gears of Five’s mind, for a brief moment, faltered. He felt the hours of the night slipping through his fingers. “Did it occur to you, when you were getting stoned in a basement somewhere, that maybe this wasn’t just a courtesy call?
“Can I have another chocolate one, or do you want that one?”
“Dammit, Em!” Five snatched the bag away. “I’d expect this from my degenerate of a sibling, but not from you. I called you here for a reason, and if you’re not lucid enough to hold a conversation with—“
“Don’t call Klaus a degenerate.” Emerson almost spilled his hot chocolate with the force of his words. “And who the fuck are you to talk? Why couldn’t you just tell me on the phone or, or— at least tell me your name when you left a message? Made it less ominous?”
“Are you trying to insinuate that it’s my fault you smoked a stranger’s pot? That you just had to get high because I made you so anxious?”
“No!” Emerson slammed his styrofoam cup down on the table. “I’m just saying that I’m not the only one who’s being a fucking idiot today.”
Five brought his coffee to his lips.
Em pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. “What are you trying to hide from your siblings, Five? And is there even a good reason for it?”
“Of course there is,” he said before he could remind himself that he didn’t need to justify what he was doing, didn’t he know how much Five had already done for his family? Didn’t he understand that everything he did, every choice he made, was in some way for them?
Em nodded as though his stupid psychic abilities extended to telepathy as well. “Sorry I ruined the night, Five.” He sounded heartbreakingly genuine. “But can we talk about whatever this is in the morning? I want to sleep. The world’s not gonna end before then, is it?”
Five waited until Emerson’s eyes flicked to his face. “No,” he said softly, when they settled somewhere around the flaccid half-goose of a napkin on the table. “Not tonight.” Small miracles. He allowed his jaw to unclench. “Come back to the mansion?”
The thought of Emerson wandering back to his apartment in this state, even as the high was wearing off, made his stomach twist up in a way that usually meant someone would be dead pretty soon. And what would be the point of walking him home and then having to teleport back to the mansion? He would be walking the same distance either way— give or take— so he might as well make it easier for him to make sure Em ate something in the morning.
A small, shy half-smile bloomed on Em’s face, brightening the whole damn town. “Sure,” he said, “Thanks, Five.”
#warning for alcohol and drug use#writing#this one wENT SO OFF THE RAILS AAAAAAHHH#it just like. BARELY connects to the prompt#but ive been tapping along at it for like. maybe a week or so now and its like yeah time to open up my notes app. where was i. hey WHY#WHY DID I MAKE MYSELF HIGH WHY WAS THAT A CHOICE I MADE#I'll tell you why its because i was reading going postal and i was like DAMN sir terry pratchet deserves that knighthood#and i was getting self conscious about my own writing being SUPER boring in comparison#and so at like nine o clock as im in my bed doing a little bit of Stuff I Enjoy before going to sleep i was like you know what?#this is the spice this story needs#instead of like. taking actual knowledge of plot and shit from this really good novel i just finished. its okay im working on that#also can you tell that i 1. have never smoked weed and 2. had no idea why the fuck five would need to talk about#i just needed SOMETHING that would fit in with of a friday night by anais mitchell!!!! and just sitting in a cafe thinking about#an old poet and how this fading town was once something else#doesnt make for an active story i cant COMPARE to reacher gilt showing up at moist's date right before the post office is on FIRE#that was the point in the book btw where i was like oh. oh. this is masterful work what do i need to do to write like this#and part of the problem maybe. is that i can't set that sort of narrative trap for my characters when i get tired out writing 2000 words#reverse urashima taro
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hwangsies · 3 years
Text
zephyr
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(n) a gentle breeze
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pairing: seo changbin x female reader (hwang hyunjin x female reader)
genre: rebound to fwb to dumbasses to lovers(?), college!au, undergroundrappers!3racha
warnings: angst: mentions of infidelity, heartbreak and abuse, seemingly unrequited love, they are both so dumb and prideful its annoying, fluff, bad attempt at comedy, minsung on the side, cursing, alcohol consumption, smut: protected piv, oral (f), studio sex, praise, mild degradation, hair pulling, mild spanking
wc: 10k
enjoy <3
-
September
"y/n?" you hear your roommates faint voice calling out your name.
You dont bother to answer because you know she's going to come into your room at any second now.
And you're right. "y/n??" Your door opens a few seconds later.
You groan in response, not looking up and instead staying in your little cocoon of blankets.
"no babygirl what are you doing?" you feel the bed shift under lias weight when she sits down.
"what does it look like i'm doing?" you grumble back, her hand gently rubbing over your arm.
"sulking, babe" she replies, dropping her purse to the ground.
"10 points for griffyndor" you sniffle as you scooch and sit up, pushing the blankets half off of you at which she sighs.
"wooyoung was not that good of a boyfriend for you to still be crying over him" lia presses her lips together concernedly.
She's right, you know it. It has almost been two months and you still feel like crying everytime someone mentions him.
"i know" you nod somewhat defeatedly "still, i was with him for almost a year and" you hiccup "he literally ripped my heart out and trampled on it"
"i know" lia nods understandingly "but i do think it would help if you went out again, even if its just for a night, you know just to be around people"
"it probably would but i just dont have the energy for it" you shrug your shoulders.
"i get it, girl, i really do" she pats your knee "both of my exes cheated on me, my only luck was that they were both awful at hiding it so i found out pretty quickly" she huffs.
You force out a chuckle, from what you heard from one of the girls that wooyoung cheated on you with, was that it started 3 months into your relationship.
"this the most humiliating thing ever, lia" you scoff "being with someone for so long, trusting them and telling them all your secrets and you think they are doing the same for you but then realizing that they were faking it all along to have multiple side chicks, and the fact that i was too oblivious to figure it out is the icing on the cake" you rub your forehead, feeling a migrane approach due to the sheer amount of crying you've been doing.
She seems to know what's happening and hands you the water bottle next to your bed "hydrate, sis"
So, you do. Taking four big gulps out of the water bottle.
Once you place the bottle next to you and tie your hair in a messy bun, you look at your roommate more thuroughly now that the tears are wiped away.
"you look pretty" you compliment her makeup and casual yet chic outfit "what'd you do tonight?"
Her contagious grin spreads over her face, eyes turning into little crescents.
"chris took me to the fair in town" lia grins before her face drops "I'm sorry, this is maybe not the time to ta-"
"No! It is, tell me about it" you interrupt her.
"O-okay" she nods hesitantly "well, i dont know if you've been keeping track but today was our fourth date and it was amazing" she gushes.
"I cant believe how much i like him, like, its crazy" she squeals a little, at which you giggle.
"so, fourth date huh? And he hasnt tried to get into your pants yet?" you quip.
"nope, i initiated our first kiss and other than that nothing" she whispers the last words before laughing.
"thats great" you smile, genuinely happy for her.
"Hmm yea" she sings as she gets up "i'll go to bed now too"
"Oh, hey, i have an idea" lia speaks up when standing in your doorway "chris has this performance thingy in two days, you should totally come!" she offers enthusiastically.
"he has a band?" you ask, partly to distract her from her offer.
"Hmm not really a band, they're a trio and there is this performance on saturday where a bunch of underground artists perform, i didnt fully listen if im honest" she giggles "but you should come with me!!" she jumps excitedly.
"i dont kno-"
"y/n pleasee? You'd do me a huge favor too because i dont know anyone there" lia pleads, clutchig her hands together.
"you know chris" you rebuttal.
"and what am i supposed to do when he's performing? stand around like an idiot? please y/n" she pouts.
"I dont really think this is my type of crowd..." you scratch your head.
"please please please" she jumps once more.
You sigh and tilt your head as you look at her sternly.
"one of his friends is single" she adds carefully.
"and cute" she sings "from what ive seen in pictures" she adds.
"lia" you groan.
"I'll do your laundry for two weeks if you come with me"
"you will?" Your head snaps towards her.
"yes i will! i promise, just come with me, please?"
A long sigh leaves your lips "okay"
-
The strong bass of the loud music rings in your chest as soon as you step foot into the club where “3racha” is supposed to be performing tonight.
Lia comes to a halt and you almost run into her because you were to busy checking out the venue and the other people around you.
“sorry” you mumble and hold onto her arm to avoid getting lost in the crowd.
She pulls out her phone and clicks on her and hers and chris’s chat, to figure out where to meet them, you assume.
“okay” lia puts her phone back into her jeans pocket and grabs your hand “they’re backstage, lets go”
“can we just go there?” you almost yell for her to understand what you’re saying.
“yea! Chris said he’ll make sure we’ll get in, come on” she tugs at your hand for you to walk faster.
You waddle behind her, barely dodging some drunk guys beer that goes flying before you arrive at the sign that says “artists only” and a black curtain behind it.
The guy standing infront of it raises a brow at the two of you before pointing at said sign “read ladies, no fans allowed”
“hey, they’re with me” a guy, you assume to be chris, taps on his shoulder and shows his artists badge, half of his body still covered by the curtain.
The bigger guy sighs and lets you through.
“thank you” lia lets go of your hand to loop her arms around chris’s neck once behind the curtain, they kiss and you look around.
Not because you are particularly uncomfortable, maybe still just a little bitter at happy couples.
You audibly clear your throat when they are still making out after a good ten seconds.
“oh-uhm” lia looks back at you after breaking the kiss “chris, this is y/n, y/n, chris” she giggles.
“hi y/n, nice to meet you” he gives you a quick hug and a smile full of dimples, finally understanding why your roommate is always swooning about him.
“hi” you smile back, somewhat forced.
“lets go to our dressingroom” chris suggests and leads the way.
Opening the door, he lets you and lia walk in first.
One guy is dancing around in the middle of the room, singing along to the current song that’s being played in the background with a water bottle as a pretend mic.
Another is one sitting on the small couch and laughing at him.
“oh, hi” the guy stops singing and quickly hides the bottle behind himself at which chris chuckles.
“guys, this is lia and y/n” chris points at the two of you before closing the door behind him.
“ooo the lia?” the waterbottle guy wiggles his eyebrows, at which you cant help but laugh as well, he isn’t very tall but looks lean.
“what is the lia supposed to mean?” lia laughs when chris comes up and slings an arm around her waist from behind her.
“I..well-I talk about you sometimes-“
“sometimes my ass” the guy sitting on the couch scoffs amusedly, your eyes shift to him.
He’s wearing a white baseball cap and a pretty tight fitted black Versace shirt, making his shoulders and arms look broad.
His hands clad in black half-gloves, he adjusts his cap before locking eyes with you and quickly looking down again.
“channie hyung must’ve forgotten his manners, I’m jisung” the waterbottle guy speaks up “and that’s changbin hyung” he points at the most intimidating-looking of the three of them, on the couch.
“channie?” lia squeals as she sits down with chris on the couch changbin is sitting on as well, jisung coming up to you.
“hey, you want something to drink?” he asks, pointing at the mini bar feigning cockiness  “we have a mini bar”
“woow” you chuckle, playing along “sure I’d love a drink”
“how come we’ve never met on campus before?” jisung asks after mixing you a vodka soda and sitting down on the second couch in the room.
“oh, you all go to uni here as well?” you ask surprisedly as you sit down next to him..
“yea” he grins “that’s how we all met” he points at lia and chris almost sitting on top of each other “and those two”
“oh I didn’t even know that” you take a sip, trying to loosen up “I guess I wasn’t listening when she was ranting on about him”
Jisung laughs and changbin joins the two of you as he sits down next to jisung.
“they just started calling each other bubs I feel like throwing up” changbin groans as he drinks from his beer.
You huff before jisung speaks again, looking from his friend back to you “he’s usually more romantic” he quips.
“I bet” you joke with him.
“yup” changbin locks eyes with you “that’s why I’m single, I’m just too romantic” he shakes his head sarcastically.
“ooh” you squint your eyes “emotional unavailability? love that in a man” you grin, at which his eyebrow quirks up amusedly.
“speaking of man, did minho hyung text you when he’d be here?” jisung asks his friend.
“yea he said he’ll be here in 5 and that you should finally buy a new phone” changbin answers, reading it from his phone at which jisung scoffs before turning to you.
“minho is my boyfriend” he explains “he’s hot” he grins at which you laugh “I bet”
“so, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” jisung asks after taking a sip of his drink
“not anymore” you scoff, jisung inhales excitedly “guess what, changbin is single as well” he grins from ear to ear, comically looking back and forth between you two.
“oh, please dont start like lia” you chuckle, leaning forwards to lock eyes with changbin “no offense, but I only attract assholes”
He shakes his head, amusedly raising his brows “none taken” he grins at which you huff before a young woman comes into their dressing room to tell them they’re up next.
-
Back in the crowd, you and lia find a good place just as the lights dim and the music begins to play.
Suddenly you feel someone run into your side “woah I’m sorry” he quickly apologizes “this guy pushed me” he looks behind him.
“its alright” you nod, loud enough for him to hear.
Once they come outside, the crowd goes wild.
“jisungieee” the guy next to you all over sudden screams, you have to smile when looking at him.
“are you minho by any chance?” you ask him.
He nods aggressively “yea! do you know jisung?”
“I just met him backstage” you yell over the loud bass.
Minho laughs and nods before the bass drops and chris starts the first verse.
“he’s great right?” lia screams into your ear when the first chorus ends.
“yea” you nod, actually surprised at how good their music is, now understanding as to why the crowd loves them so much.
Changbin starts his verse and suddenly you feel somewhat entranced, his voice is rough and his bars are hard, definitely fitting his appearance but what entices you is the passion with which he appears to be performing.
Throughout their whole performance you cant take your eyes off him, the way his arms flex when he grips onto the microphone a little harder or the way his jugular sticks out when he growls into the microphone.
Not to mention the thighs you somehow didn’t notice in their dressing room, you watch them strain against his leather pants and feel even hotter suddenly.
Their last song ends and lia is quick to be in your ear about going backstage to chris again.
“oh you know chan hyung?” minho overhears and chimes in.
“yea she’s his date” you point at your overly excited roommate.
“changbin just texted and said they’re upstairs in the vip lounge, come with me” the brunette holds out his hand for you to take, which you do and grab lia with the other one.
“do you know where you’re going?” you ask minho after a minute of pressing yourself along sweaty dancing bodies.
“yea! they’re here a lot” he yells back “its right over there” he points to a flight of stairs where yet another bouncer is standing in front of.
“hey minho” the bouncer greats him with a fist bump “these girls are with you?” he points at lia and you.
“yea” he nods.
“trying something new, I see” he laughs atw hich you frown.
“oh, nono” minho chuckles uncomfortably “I’m still with jisung”
“ah-alright well, have fun” the bouncer moves after looking you all up and down, letting you walk up the stairs.
“wow, you’re famous” lia giggles at which minho huffs and shakes his head amusedly “yea, for being the only non-straight person they know”
“baby” you see jisung jump up from his seat in the spacious lounge as soon as you enter.
“hii” minho holds out his arms for him to run into, you cant stop yourself from smiling when you see jisung jump into his boyfriends arms.
“lia, y/n come over here” chris waves at the two of you.
“you were so good, baby” you hear minho praise jisung behind you as you walk over to the large round sitting booth where chan and changbin are sitting.
Lia slides into the booth and cuddles into chans side “you were awesome” she squeals as you sit down on the other end and grab a fresh glass from the middle of the round table, holding it next to changbins where he’s pouring cherry vodka into.
“can i get some?” you ask, he glances at you and smirks before silently filling your glass with a  double shots worth of the slightly rosy liquid.
“so, how did you like it?” he asks as he leans back, taking a swing of his drink.
“you guys were really good” you nod “to be honest I didn’t expect such high quality music”
He laughs, leaning his head back a little, his adams apple bopping with it.
You cant help but notice the sheer sheen of sweat that expands over his thick neck, obviously coming from their escapades on stage just now.
“what did you expect? a bunch of drunks playing wonderwall on the guitar for more drunks?” he grins, straight white teeth on display.
“hey, don’t come for wonderwall” you raise your hand jokingly at which he laughs.
“I wouldn’t dare” he raises his hands comically.
“hey” you whip your head around to see jisung and minho “scoot, please” jisung speaks again.
“oh-yea” you grab your drink and scoot further into the half circle-shaped booth.
“so what do you study?” changbin asks, his voice catches you off guard because you hadn’t calculated how close you’re sitting to him.
You turn to him to realise you’re close enough to smell his perfume and aftershave.
“uh- I- art” you answer shakily before taking a sip of your drink just to pull a face afterwards.
“jesus christ” you cough a little and hold your chest as changbin laughs.
“its stronger than you’d think” he grins “can you handle it?” he teases when your eyes get a little watery.
You stare at him for a second before playfully rolling your eyes “im good” 
His eyes trace over your face as you look around before he breaks the silence ”i can get you something else if you want” he offers.
“oh-uh no, I’m just being dramatic its fine” you chuckle.
“so...what do you study?” you change the topic.
“I’m majoring in music” he says, stretching out his arms over the backrest “all three of us are”
“oh, so you like, produce all your own stuff?” you ask, your eyes jumping to where his forearm touches your shoulder, that’s leaning against the backrest.
“yea, channie hyung composes the most, me and ji write a lot” he explains,
“thats really cool” you nod, looking over to the mentioned guy.
Changbin follows your eyes and huffs when the both of you see him and your roommate sucking face again.
After a few seconds they stop and giggle before standing up to go somewhere.
“where are they going?” you huff.
“I guess they want some alone time” he chuckles, lifting the arm close to you to take off the cap he’s still wearing.
You flinch when his forearm brushes your shoulder.
“are you scared of me?” he asks slowly, stopping his movements, cap still in hand.
“no- no” you shake your head, chuckling “I- its just been a while since I’ve gone out and I don’t know” you shrug “I feel a little lost”
“hm” changbin cocks his brow at your words, running one hand through his dark brown locks.
You divert your eyes from his bulging bicep back to his face quickly when he speaks again.
“any reason why?” he leans back again.
“oh, just a shitty ex and a shitty breakup” you shrug “I’m gonna spare you the details”
“aw, no please, tell me he had a small dick and everything, now im invested” he jokes.
You tsk at him and push his arm playfully, feigning annoyance.
“that still doesn’t answer my question as to why you jumped like that when my arm touched you” changbin raises his brows expectantly.
You open your mouth to speak but-
“we’ll go get some more to drink” minho interrupts you at which changbin nods.
“so?” he asks again, once minho and jisung leave.
“did that ex hit you? give me his address I’ll beat him up for you” changbin deadpans.
“no” you shake your head after taking another sip “he didn’t” you huff incredulously.
“its just- you look kinda scary” you blurt out finally.
His eyes widen before he falls into a boyish laughter, which you cant help but join.
“me?” he points at himself before laughing again, the image you had made up in your mind about him cracking.
“yea!” you raise your brows “when you look like this” you furrow your brows and lightly squint your eyes to mimic his resting bitch face.
“what the-” he splutters laughingly.
“stoop, don’t laugh” you hold onto his forearm, still giggling yourself.
He calms himself, subconsciously scooting closer to you in the now empty booth.
“maybe scary wasn’t the right word” you snicker, looking down.
“I think the word you were looking for was: sexy, hot or mysterious, maybe handsome-” he quips, grinning to himself when you start laughing again.
“no, no, I know what I meant” you joke back, just now noticing how close he is, his knee touching yours as his whole torso is turned to you.
“so none of my suggestions are accurate?” he cheekily raises one brow at which you scoff playfully.
“maybe one or two” you see his eyes jump to your lips.
The air suddenly feels thick around you with tension, changbins tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip while his eyes are still locked on yours.
You breathe in before the two of you lock eyes again "so…are you gonna kiss me, or just stare?"
He raises his brows at your sudden boost of confidence, grinning amusedly.
"what happened to me being scary?" he counters before urging you to swing one leg over his thighs with gentle hands.
You take a seat on his lap, straddling his thick thighs before looping your arms around his neck "i dont know, i think i'm into it" you quip.
His hands wander up your waist "well then i wont make you wait any longer" he grins, looking at your lips one last time before closing the gap inbetween you two.
You meet him in the middle, changbins grip on your waist tightens when his plush lips land on yours.
He pulls you closer to him, pushing his tongue past the seam of your lips.
You can taste the cherry vodka on his tongue but it riles you up even more, sucking at the wet muscle before his hands wander over the swell of your ass and each grab a handful of the flesh; your short skirt riding up when you subconsciously grind against his lap.
“be careful” he mumbles against your lips, gently tugging down the piece of fabric so you don’t expose yourself to bywalkers.
“where’s the fun in that?” you cock your head to the side teasingly.
Changbin scoffs and leans in again but you get interrupted by jisung.
“hey, we-oh” you whip your head around.
Jisungs frown turns into a grin “uh” he chuckles “we dont mean to interrupt but chan hyung texted minho and they’re going to your place” he points at you.
“ugh, seriously?” you mutter.
“I’m sleeping at minhos so, hyung you’ll have our place to yourself” he winks at changbin.
“so, we’re out too, have fun you guys” minho waves teasingly as jisung drags him away.
For a second you stare after them, until a gentle squeeze at your waist makes you turn around again.
“you could come over to my place if you don’t want to go to yours right now” he offers, eyes flickering to your lips when you bite at your lower one.
-
This is usually like not you, letting some guy you barely know take you home.
But here you are the next morning, looking up at the ceiling, changbins room flooded with daylight.
You sit up and look at the still unconscious changbin next to you. His blanket had fallen down and exposes his toned torso, barely covering his private parts.
A tingle forms in your lower abdomen when you think of what happened here a few hours ago.
But you pull yourself together and start looking around for your clothes.
You spot your bra on his desk and your skirt and shoes on the floor, gently shimmying out from underneath the blanket; you grab your skirt and slide it on without your panties, not being able to find them anywhere.
Right as you clasp your bra behind your back, changbins morning voice makes you flinch “you would’ve just snuck out?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as you look back at him.
“what? did you take me for a breakfast lover?” you quip as you slide into your shoes, looking around for your shirt.
“damn, that’s cold” he chuckles lowly, sitting up and watching you stride around his room.
“where did you put my shirt?” you ask, bending down to look under his desk.
“maybe you should worry about your panties first” he snickers, eyes glued to your core when you look back at him.
You kiss your teeth and straighten up quickly, having forgotten about your lack of underwear.
“not that that wasn’t a great view just now-“
“you’re not helping” you interrupt him, eyes lighting up when you spot your shirt in the hallway.
“why so serious all over sudden?” he grins “last night you were everything but tense”
You scoff as you pull your shirt over your head and stuff it into your skirt before grabbing your purse and phone.
“I have an exam in 2 days and I haven’t studied yet” you exhale.
“I could drive you home-“ he runs a hand through his messy hair.
“I’ll call a cab, uhm- thanks for last night” you hurriedly smile before walking out.
“bye” changbin calls after you, frowning and dropping back down onto his bed when he hears the door shut behind you “have a nice day I guess” he mumbles to himself.
 October
You cling your jacket closer to your body as you walk through the howling wind the seasonal change had brought with it.
When you arrive at lias faculty building you take out your phone to see if she texted you about when her lecture would be over.
lia : hey babe, chris took me to his place -received at 4:17 pm
You roll your eyes, typical you think.
you : are you serious? you begged me to walk home with you -sent at 4:25 pm
You see her the little blue bubble pop up, indicating that she’s writing a message.
lia : im sorry!! please don’t be mad, he surprised me :((( -received at 4:25 pm
You scoff and turn off your phone before slipping it in your coats pocket alongside your hands. Typical, you think, ever since that night at the club the two of them have become inseparable and lia cancelling on you had become a regular thing. You are happy for her but you also miss your friend.
“y/n?” a familiar voice calls after you right as you start to walk away, you freeze and turn around.
“yea?- oh” you swallow harshly when you see changbin walk your way.
“hey” he smiles brightly and you have to bite back a grin at the cute beanie he’s sporting alongside his slightly red nose due to the cold weather.
“hi” you smile timidly.
“you never texted” he tilts his head at which you nod.
“yea, sorry I actually never got your number” you look at the ground “uh- what are you doing here?”
“oh um im on my way to the studio” he points at a nearby building “that’s the music faculty”
“ah okay, well” you lock eyes “have fun then” you turn around again, ready to walk away.
“hey” he catches up with you “you wanna join me? check out some of our new stuff?” he burries his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“I don’t know, changbin I really don’t want to date right now-“ you start at which he chuckles.
“I didn’t ask you to marry me” he stops in his tracks, grinning when you do as well, locking eyes “come on, I just need an unbiased opinion on some new tracks” he tilts his head.
You inhale before looking around you “I could drive you home after? So you don’t have to walk through this weather?” he offers, raising his brows at which you purse your lips.
“alright” you give in, changbin smiles and extends his elbow for you to hold.
You simper and coyly hook your hand around his arm as the two of you start walking.
-
“this is awesome!” you point to his laptop a minute after he played the first song for you.
Changbin grins bashfully and leans back into his desk chair “you think?”
“yea, the hook is super catchy” you bob your head as his eyes fix on your profile “you’re really talented, changbin” you catch him blushing before putting on another song.
After a few other songs, he takes off his headphones when you take off yours.
“can I ask you something?” he asks, you glance at him.
“you just did” you quip at which he huffs, “sure” you nod.
“how much of that night do you remember?” he fiddles with one of the rings on his left hand.
“why?” you ask back.
“well, you seemed really upset the next morning so I got kind of scared that you didn’t actually want it and I kind of took advantage of you” he recalls the night the two of you spent together.
“oh, no. you didn’t take advantage of me, I wasn’t even  drunk and I would’ve told you if I had changed my mind or something. That was just the first time I ever spent the night at a guys house for a one night stand” you absently pick off some fuzzies from your jeans.
“plus I had just come out of a relationship so I was a little too emotional anyways” you chuckle.
“alright” changbin nods “just wanted to make sure” he smiles down at his hands “cause I remember all of it”
You whip your head, scoffing when you see him with a shit eating grin on his face.
“hm” you feign ignorance as you lean back “I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot to remember” you grin mischievously.
He laughs out loud, leaning forwards “no?”
You shake your head, pursing your lips comically “nah”
“cause I remember you shaking and screaming” he grins.
You shrug your shoulders “weird, must’ve faked it” you deadpan, fiddling with the headphones you’re still holding.
Changbins tongue prods on the inside of his cheek, huffing when he catches you grinning.
“right” he grins slumping into his seat a little further.
A thought flashes in your head when your gaze drops to his crotch and thick thighs, you swallow some spit in frustration as you feel your core getting hotter.
He was right, the night was amazing, maybe that was even part of the reason you stormed out the way you did.
You clench your thighs for some relief, anything really.
“want me to refresh your memory?” your eyes jump up to meet his, you open your mouth but nothing comes out; do you want him to?
Yes. Yes you do.
So, you get up and straddle him on his chair: his hands instantly gripping at your hips, pulling you closer.
“someones eager” he grins, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.
“shut up” you whisper before crashing your lips onto his.
Changbin groans when you tug at his hair, inviting you to slip your tongue in between his lips and grind your hips over his crotch.
He hisses before propping himself up on one armrest and holding your lower back with the other as he stands up; you squeal but he holds you before sitting you back down on the desk, next to his laptop.
“now who’s eager” you grin when his hands find the waistband of your leggings and tug them down with your panties in one.
He huffs as he bunches your leggings and panties around your ankles before slipping underneath the fabric barrier and inbetween your legs.
“by the looks of it..” he runs a finger through your wet folds “still you” he quips before pushing one finger in without warning.
You moan, you head dropping back onto the hard wooden surface.
“look at me” changbin orders as a second finger prods at your entrance, you whimper but prop yourself up on your elbows.
He curls the two fingers and pumps them almost violently, the palm of his hand smacking your clit with every pump.
“oh god-“ you yelp, your eyes scrunching together as your hips buck up.
“its changbin but god is fine too” he quips as he lowers his head, you curse at him, even though you have to laugh a little.
“you’re so annoy-ah!” you cry out because suddenly his tongue is lapping over your swollen clit, sucking on it forcefully when you claw one hand into his already messed up dark locks.
“fuck-bin- gonna cum” your hips stutter and you feel the pleasure that’s blooming in your tummy is getting ready to snap.
“mmh” he humms against you “cum then, baby” he moans, knowing full well what the added vibrations are doing to your body when your chest arches and your mouth drops open.
Your cries fill the studio as you clamp down on his fingers; he rides your through your high, holding down your hips with his unoccupied hand because you squirm with the euphoria that’s filling your veins.
“good girl” he mumbles, removing his fingers from you before bringing them up to your lips “now, suck them clean for me, yea?” he grins, lips and chin shiny with your cum.
-
“finally” you huff when arriving at 3rachas lounge in a club out of town; where they had just performed “this club is huge” you breathe, jisung scooting and changbin letting you squeeze past him to take a seat in between them as they chuckle.
Lia and chan already lost in their own world again as she drags him to the dancefloor, squealing when chan teasingly squeezes her sides as they disappear into the crowd.
“they are made for each other” minho sighs, sitting down and giving jisung the second beer from his hands.
“I know right” you lean back, breathing in.
“you’re still out of breath?” changbin laughs at you at which you hit his arm.
“stop it, oh my god” you feign annoyance “you know how exhausting it is to dodge beer bottles and not loose lia? she’s like a Chihuahua, I swear, you loose her once and its over” you chuckle, jisung and minho laughing too.
“you just don’t have any endurance, woman” changbin grins teasingly.
“that’s so not true” you laugh incredulously “what about two nights ago-“
“AH-“ jisung interrupts you, placing his hands over his ears “please spare us your sex stories, I hear enough of that when you’re over, babe”
You huff and changbins cheeks turn red.
“you guys are fucking?” minho asks, eyebrows raised as he takes a swing of his beer.
“good job keeping up, baby” jisung pats his boyfriends thigh teasingly at which he tsks at him.
“are you together or what?” minho props his elbow on the table to support his chin with his hand as he looks at the two of you expectantly.
“no, we’re not” you chuckle somewhat uncomfortably before looking over at changbin who just grins awkwardly.
“just here to be a good friend and keep the groupies away” you joke “right?” you nudge changbin with your elbow at which he nods swiftly, looking down again.
“yea, baby don’t be so old fashioned” jisung teases his boyfriend who just rolls his eyes playfully.
“speaking of groupies” minho mutters, spotting a group of girls just before they approach the lounge.
“hey jisungie, you wanna dance?” a pretty blonde girl bats her eyelashes as she leans down a bit to expose more of her cleavage, making jisung grin.
“baby, you’re gorgeous but I’m very gay” he nods apologetically, “Oh” she straightens up “really? You sure?”
You and changbin have to bite back a laugh when jisung nods again “very sure, thanks though, for coming”
She shrugs and looks at changbin “what about you? Wanna dance?”
“uh-“ changbin starts but you cut him off “he’s with me actually” you tilt your head.
“for real?” she stems her hands into her hips as she looks back at her posse, scoffing.
“yea” changbin loops his strong arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him “that’s my girl, so a little respect, please”
“aww” you coo dramatically as you play along, putting your hand on his jaw to turn his head towards you before you lock lips.
“whatever” you faintly hear the girls voice get quieter when changbin slips his tongue in between your lips.
“they’re gone” you hear minho but changbin pulls your legs to dangle over one of his thighs as he grips your waist.
“guys” jisungs voice only registers in the back of your head when changbin sucks at your bottom lip and you run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
“can I get you some more beers?” the waitresses voice pulls the both of you out of your trance as you break the kiss abruptly.
Jisung laughs, shaking his head at the both of you before turning to the waitress “we’ll take a round of shots I think”
  November
 “fuck-harder” you gasp “..mhh binnie-shit” you moan while changbin pounds into you from behind, gripping your hip tighter with one of his hands; the other one migrating up your back to gather the legth of your hair, twisting them before he pulls at their root.
You groan when you feel your hair getting pulled back, neck stretching as he picks up his pace.
“like this? fuck you love this don’t you?” he breaths ragged, but you can hear the dirty smirk that lingers on his lips every time you have rough sex..
You moan out loudly when he releases your hair and pushes your torso down onto the mattress, your hand pulling at the sheets , needing something to grip and release the pleasure.
“fuck- answer me, slut” he grunts and delivers a harsh slap to your ass.
You cry out “yes-yes-fuck-love it” you desperately gasp as he leans down to you, earning a low chuckle which sends shivers down your back.
His lips latch onto your shoulder blade and start sucking on the skin until a purple mark blooms under his lips.
“fuck” you let out a strangled yell when the hand on your hip makes its way to your front and he started circling your clit with his fingers, the pace and firmness matching his thrusts.
You cry out for him as you clench furiously around his cock “that’s a good girl” he whispers, only letting go of your clit when you flinch in overstimulation.
“cum for me- fuck baby, cum for me and let the others know who’s fucking you this good” he rasps in your ear. Not 5 seconds later, your orgasm ripples through you and you would’ve collapsed completely if he wasn’t holding you up.
You’re still panting when both of his hands go back on your hips and push them down, laying you flat on the mattress before he picks up his pace again with his last left strength to reach his own high.
“shit- y/n“ he grunts when you tighten around him again and you feel him filling the condom with some drawn out groans and a sharp hiss.
After a few seconds of nothing but heavy breathing filling the room, he pulls out and falls next to you on his bed.
You wince at the soreness that’s already presenting itself when you turn around on your back, looking over to him; you watch as he ties a knot in the condom and throws it into the trash next to his desk.
“kobe!” he exclaims gleefully at his perfect throw before looking back at you to see if you saw.
“jesus christ why am I sleeping with you” you hold your hands over your face, hating the fact that it made you laugh.
He gasps, feigning to be offended “that’s not how you speak to the guy that just made you cum three times”
“you are so full of yourself, seo changbin” you shake your head amusedly as you sit up.
“wait, I’ll clean you up” changbin is quick to rise from his comfortable position to grab some tissues from his nightstand.
“come here” he mumbles, gently urging you to lie back down before carefully wiping your own cum off your inner thighs and mound.
You watch him as he gently moves to wipe the tissue over your puffy folds, your hips jumping a little when he accidentally passes your clit.
“sorry” he grins, pressing a kiss to your angled knee; at which you feel your heart lurch forward a bit.
Woah, wait.
You’ve been seeing changbin just for sex for almost two months now, you’ve even gone with him other performances and after parties to keep groupies away and be his arm candy and never has your heart done this.
Mayday. Abort mission.
“should be good for now” changbin shrugs, shooting you a sweet smile before turning away from you to also get rid of the tissues.
You use the opportunity to shuffle to the side of his bed and slip on your panties before grabbing your bra.
“hey, you wanna leave already?” changbin asks “I thought we could hang” he tucks his hand under his head as you look back at him, clipping your bra closed “watch a movie or something”
“sorry, I promised lia I’d help her clean the apartment today” you lie, surprisingly quick, before pulling your hoodie over your head.
“so you’re just gonna fuck me and leave again?” he jokes dramatically “I don’t even get cuddles?”
“shut up” you chuckle.
“am I nothing more to you than a pretty piece of meat?” he continues as you slip into your jeans, rolling your eyes playfully.
“a toy you use when you need stress relief??” he holds his chest dramatically.
You step into your shoes and raise your brows at him.
“are you complaining?” you ask playfully.
“nahh” he pulls his covers over his abs as he watches you grab your jacket from his desk chair.
"At least give me a 'gopdbye, thanks for the bomb dick, kiss" He grins when you scoff at him. So, you lean over him and press a quick peck to his lips; he whines playfully when you lean back up again, sitting up and catching your lips with his roughly once more.
“alright, see ya” you shrug."
And shit, your heart does it again. What are you doing?
You break the kiss and ruffle through his hair.
“ugh” he huffs annoyedly, fixing his hair “I hope you have trouble walking” he quips as you go for the door.
“I’ll text you if I don’t” you wink at him before closing his door, leaning against it from the outside and closing your eyes.
“fuck” you whisper to yourself before making your way through the guys apartment.
“don’t break his heart, y/n” minhos voie comes from behind as you twist the doorknob.
“huh?” you trun around to look at him, he’s wearing a shirt that you know to be jisungs so he must be staying over.
“I’ve known changbin for a while, he seems tough but he’s a softie deep down” he crosses his arms over his chest “he hurts easier than you think”
“we- we’re both not in this for anything serious” you stammer “what do you mean?”
“I see the way he looks at you, y/n” minho smiles softly “I’m not telling you how to live your life, just, be honest with him… and yourself for that matter” he quirks one brow up, smiling before disappearing around the corner.
 -
 You squint your eyes as you’re trying to make out the label of the cereal boxes in the upper shelves, looking back at your phone you check to see what brand lia had texted you about so you don’t accidentally buy the wrong thing.
“fuck” you mumble when you see her desired cereal at the top of the shelf, so you reach up but to no avail.
“y/n?” you lower your heels to the floor again before turning around to see…
“hyunjin?” you face drops in awe.
“hey!” the tall young man smiles widely, opening his arms and inviting you to a hug.
“wow, hi” you hug him back.
Damn, what happened to him? The last time you saw him was before he moved away in 10th grade.
You used to be good friends with him, or, well, the freakishly skinny and lanky highschool version of him you met in dance class.
By the feel of it, even through the trenchcoat he’s wearing, you can tell he’s bulked up quite a bit.
After letting go of him, you cant help but stare.
His acne had cleared up and his brown hair is chin length with the top parts pulled back into a little pony tail, leaving some face framing strands in the front.
“wow- you look-“ you blink a few times to make sure you’re not dreaming “…really good, hyunjin”
He smiles on the ground, his pretty plump lips parting to reveal beautiful pearly whites which used to be covered by braces.
“so do you” he grins.
“no- I mean you look… good-good” you splutter, laughing awkwardly “like what are you a model now or something?”
“actually, yea- part time” he chuckles.
“oh” you huff  “wow of course” you shake your head laughingly, blushing furiously when he doesn’t break eye contact.
“so- uhm” you gulp, making him grin even wider “what are you doing here?”
“I’m transferring here” he nods “better dance programme” he explains shortly.
“oh you still dance” you observe out loud “I haven’t danced in a while” you look down.
“you should come by after practice sometime” he offers “to catch up- or dance if you want” he giggles, a little dimple appearing on his left cheek.
“yea, I’d love that” you smile, nodding before he takes out his phone.
“put in your number, I’ll text you” he smiles softly when holding it out to you.
“mhm” you agree, saving your number in his phone and trying not to think about him staring at you the whole time.
“alright well” he checks his phone for the time, you guess “I gotta get going, only came here for this” he chuckles, holding up a carton of milk that you, weirdly enough, haven’t noticed until now.
“alright” you nod before he moves in for a hug again.
“bye” he smiles when loosening his arms again.
“bye” you mumble, staring at the back of his perfect head as he walks away.
You were about to pull out your phone and rant to lia about what just happened, when he stops in his tracks and turns around.
“almost forgot” he grins, reaching up and getting your cereal from the top shelf; winking when he places it in your hands, your body freezing.
“bye” he grins, walking away before you could thank him.
-
 You had taken hyunjin up on his offer and met him in the dance studio after class where he showed you some of his contemporary pieces before you made your way to the popular coffee shop on campus together.
“-no seriously the second piece was my favourite I think, but they were all amazing!” you smile up at him at which he shakes his head cutely.
“can you stop complimenting me, y/n I’m getting all nervous” he laughs softly.
“oh please” you quip “with your talent and looks I would think nothing could make you nervous” you roll your eyes playfully.
Hyunjin huffs, opening the coffee shops door for you “you can” he says softly as you walk past him, you turn around to him to see him blush a litte but diverting his eyes to the big menu above the counter.
Did he just flirt with you? No, you must be tripping.
You look around to see only two other people sitting in one of the booths together, the cold must keep most people home, you think before hyunjin gently pulls at your sleeve to get your attention.
“what do you want?” he asks, the barista looking at you expectantly.
“uhm- a hot chocolate please” you say, reaching in your purse to get your wallet.
“I’ll take the same” hyunjin smiles politely, giving the barista money.
“on me” he smiles down at you.
“oh, thank you” you smile sheepishly, letting go of your purse again.
Once your hot chocolates are ready, you sit down in one of the booths, hyunjin sliding in to sit across from you.
“I was back home last week before I came here, you’ll never guess who I met” hyunjin grins.
“who?” you ask curiously.
“tim” he grins.
“tim?” your eyes almost pop out of your head “as in my first boyfriend tim?” you laugh, holding your hand to your face incredulously.
“but he moved away as well?” you half ask.
“yea he said he was visiting his grandparents, but guess the best part” hyunjin bites his lip
“what?” you chuckle.
“he got a nose job” hyunjin bites back a laugh when you gasp surprisedly “really?”
“one word” hyunjin says “botched…”
“aw no, poor tim” you frown, looking down at your hot drink as memories from back in the day come back to you.
“he always used to put his hand up my shirt when hugging” you frown, making hyunjin laugh.
“it was 9th grade y/n what did you expect?” you scoff at his rethorical question.
“I don’t know, some basic manners maybe?” you counter playfully…slowly letting the conversation die down as you both take sips from your cocoa.
“how come we never dated?” he asks softly after aminute of silence, looking up at you.
“we were friends?” you chuckle awkwardly.
“come on” hyunjin sits back in his booth “you must’ve known I had the biggest crush on you”
“you did?” you almost launch forwards in your seat, making hyunjin laugh.
“well, I guess you didn’t know then” he giggles, hiding his face in his hands embarrassedly.
“anyways, I would’ve paid good money to be able to slip my hand up your shirt” he jokes, cheeks reddening when you laugh.
“I honestly liked you a lot back then” you say “if you would’ve said something we might’ve actually gone out” you shrug gently.
“damn, way to rub that in my face” hyunjin grins.
You hold his eye contact for a few seconds before you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks again, quickly lifting up your mug to take a sip and partly cover your face.
When you put your mug back down, hyunjin grins widely, mumbling a “cute” before slowly bringing his hand to your chin and gently swiping his thumb over your top lip where a foam mustache had formed.
You gulp when he swiftly sucks the foam off his thumb, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.
When he notices, he leans over, slowly as if scared to overwhelm you.
That’s when minhos words pop up in the back of your head.
“be honest with him, and yourself for that matter”
But you aren’t together, and hyunjin is great and you want to kiss him but you know it would be wrong.
However, before you know it his lips are on yours and you’re not doing anything to stop him.
They are soft and inviting and you let him swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips, but then the little doorbell rings and you hear lias voice, followed by a male one before they abruptly stop, making you pull away abruptly.
Oh.
There they are, lia, chan, jisung and changbin; looking at you.
“y/n” lia grins widely, approaching your table “aren’t you gonna introduce us?” she squeals, hyunjin clears his throat and sits back down.
The three guys hesitantly follow lia when-
“woah- hyunjin?” chan speaks up.
“chan-hyung?” hyunjin gets up from his place to receive a hug from the older one as your eyes divert to changbin who is looking at the ground.
You aren’t together. Then why do you feel so guilty and why does he look so disappointed.
“he’s cute, girl” jisung grinningly interrupts your daydreaming, nodding towards chan and hyunjin who are still talking.
You force out a smile.
“how do you two know each other?” lia asks curiously.
“he went to my highschool, the last few years” chan grins.
“what a coincidence” you mumble, almost ironically.
“I went to highschool with y/n too, the first couple years though, then I moved away” hyunjin explains “oh, im sorry, I’m hyunjin by the way” he turns to jisung and changbin.
“I’m jisung, this is changbin” jisung smiles, pointing at his grumpy friend.
“I’m lia” lia grins “his girlfriend and her best friend” she points at chan before snuggling up to you, giggling.
Jesus, woman where do you get the energy? Is what you want to ask but you just flash another forced smile, hoping this moment will pass quickly.
“where were you guys?” you change the topic, hoping changbin would maybe look at you if you spoke up.
“oh, I caught them all huddled up in the studio” lia grins “they probably haven’t been outside in a week again” she giggles.
“true” jisung quips.
“hey lets all sit down” hyunjin suggests.
“I’ll get a coffee” changbin mumbles, walking back to the counter.
You usher lia to make way for you to get out of the booth, following him.
“bin” you stand next to him as he looks up at the menu but he ignores you.
“you could at least acknowledge my presence, your highness” you quip annoyedly.
“what do you want me to say, y/n?” he mutters.
“I didn’t know this would happen with him or I would’ve told you” you say, looking back at the other four talking and laughing in the booth.
“we’re not together y/n, you’ve made that very clear; if you wanna kiss lord farquaad go ahead, I’m not stopping you” he looks over to the booth as well.
“jesus christ” you huff “why are you so defensive then?”
“hi” changbin greets the barista who just came from the back “I’ll have an iced coffee to go, please” he orders.
“the world doesn’t revolve around you y/n, maybe I’m having a bad day” he answers when the barista makes his way to the coffee machines, you feel a lump from in your throat.
“yea, well thanks for making mine bad as well” you turn on your heels to join the others, hyunjin sees you coming back and scooches to make some space for you next to him.
You smile and thank him quietly when he also gives you your mug.
“everything alright?” he asks quietly, as to not disturb the others conversation.
“yea, just had to ask him some stuff” you smile at which he smiles back, turning back to the others.
After a minute changbin approaches the booth with his iced coffee “hey, I’ll run back to the studio I gotta finish that track”
“ugh, changbin I just dragged you out of there, stay for a second” lia protests and jisung nods along.
“nah, gotta get it done tonight” he shakes his head.
“alight see you later” chan nods.
“nice to meet you, man” hyunjin says, nodding at him as well.
“yea” changbin answers tight-lipped before walking out.
 December
”I’m sorry, hyunjin” you frown “I’m just not ready for a relationship after what happened with my ex-“
“its alright y/n” his large hand encases yours “you don’t have to explain yourself to me”
You sigh in relief “I’m sorry I tried to rush things, it just, seemed to good to be true to find you here and everything” he says.
“but I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you want” he looks up at you.
“oh, jinnie you shouldn’t have to do that” you shake your head “I’m sure there are great girls out there who are emotionally ready to be with you”
“yea, but you’re the girl I want to be with” he says softly and your heart shatters into pieces because you’re not sure he’s the guy you want to be with.
-
You fight yourself through the crowd at 3rachas last performance of the year, at the same venue where you met them for the first time. Just like the time before, chan makes sure lia, hyunjin, minho and you are able to come backstage.
“I’m excited to see you perform, man” hyunjin grins at chan, patting his shoulder “your stuff was already dope back then…” they continue speaking as you enter their dressing room.
Jisung greets his boyfriend as you and lia sit down on the leather couch.
Changbin is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair before his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, but he just diverts them to chan who’s grabbing a beer for hyunjin and himself, you guess.
“did you have to invite him?” changbin semi-whispers to the older one, nodding at hyunjin, chan just frowns confusedly,making changbin shake his head and walk out.
You look at hyunjin who is talking to minho and jisung, and doesn’t seem to have heard changbin. So, you get up to follow him out but lia holds your wrist “y/n you cant keep running after him” she hisses.
“he cant keep treating me like im invisible, I just want to clear the air” you free your arm and walk out to see changbin almost at the end of the corridor, walking out of a heavy door which, you think leads outside.
After reaching the door you open it to find him outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking down at his phone.
The cold air hits your skin and you shiver, only wearing a top and some jeans since its warm in the club.
Changbin notices you and looks up “what do you want, y/n?” he asks.
“that was real classy back there” you comment, holding your arms to your body to preserve some warmth. Changbin huffs, unfazed as he looks back at his phone “whatever, y/n”
“no, not whatever bin” you step closer to him “he asked me to date him” his head shoots up and you lock eyes, for a second they are soft in the way they look into yours but something changes and they turn mean when he speaks again.
“so? that’s a you proplem” he shrugs.
“its not a problem at all, he’s sweet and loving and cares about me but for some reason im standing here, hoping that you’ll give me a reason to not be with him” you feel your throat closing up with anger mixed with confusion when he starts chuckling.
“you’re not serious are you?” he squints and your heart drops, tears pooling at your lashline.
“of course not, I couldn’t expect someone as stubborn and- and comunicationally incompetent like you to understand anything about feelings” you turn on your heels when a teardrop rolls down your cheek.
A hand wraps itself around your wrist, making you turn back “I’ve wanted to be with you since that moment in the club where you kissed me infront of all these girls. It was always you who was stubborn y/n, you never wanted to spend anymore time with me other than fucking” he snaps at you, taking a breather to start another sentence but you cut him off.
“-then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask quietly and he looks down.
“because- fuck” he lets go of your wrist “I didn’t want to scare you away, you in my bed was better than no you at all. But then fucking prince charming appears out of no where and sweeps you off your feet-”
“but I don’t want prince charming I want you” you blurt out, tears now streaming down your face, making him take a step back as his eyes soften.
“then why didn’t you say anything?” a small smile tugs at his lips as he closes the distance between you, gently running his hands up your arms, feeling the goosebumps brought on by the cold.
You huff, looking down and watching one of your teardrops melting a tiny hole into the snow before looking back up “because I’m stubborn and comunicationally incompetent” you sniffle “and stupid apparently” 
A grin spreads over changbins face as his hands cradle your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs “so, you wanna be stubborn and stupid together?” he whispers, locking eyes with you.
You press your lips together, trying to keep yourself from sobbing even more as you nod.
He chuckles softly ”you can stop crying now, baby” at which you nod beathing in shakily but smiling when he pushes some hair out of your face.
“can you kiss me now please” you sniffle whiningly, huffing in a laugh when he pulls a face.
“i dont know babe, you’re a little snotty right now-” he jokes.
“shut up” you hit him, chuckling when he pulls you even closer by your waist and gently connects his lips with yours.
A soft wind blows through your hair and you loop your arms around his neck even tighter, deepening the kiss at which he moans, holding your waist tighter to his body.
The door creaks open and “are you guys finally together?” minhos voice makes you break the kiss.
“yea” you grin when jisung comes out after his boyfriend.
“nice” he grins, nodding at you.
“yea yea nice, beautiful love whatever, hyung we’re up, lets go” jisung rambles, laughing and running back inside when changbin pretends to hit him, minho shaking his head and following him.
“you’ll watch me yea?” your boyfriend grins at you, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.
“from the front row, baby”
-
a/n: omg im finally done wth this took me so long yall, i started writing this sin september (which is why the fic starts in september as well lol) sorry about the winterly feelings i’m pushing onto you in the end but last week it literally snowed where i live so i was like uh?!?!?!? okay lets write some snowy shit, global warming ftw i guess....anyways i hope u liked it pls leave some feedback and/or ur favourite part ig lol i would appreciate it alot <33 (not proofred yet oopsie)
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taglist: @kpopscape​ @oopsie-whats-this​ @zhaqifa​ @synnocence​ @changlix-mp4​ + some besties who always inspire me wether they know it or not😭 @bangtantaegi @hanflix @bruh-changbin @hyunyin @yyxgin @hyunsluvv @unstableskzstan @violethhj @missskzbiased @cartierbin @dom--minnie
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chickenparm · 2 years
Note
I have no idea how this would translate into a drabble, but tending to Singed after the explosion.
he probably looked like a fuckin mummy considering all the scarring. here's a little bit of maybe-platonic-maybe-not depending on how you want to interpret it.
Singed and gn!Reader Drabble - SFW
---
"You'll be alright, Doc."
He can't speak - not with his mouth stitched together and he's unused to speaking with his new impediments. He simply looks up at you with his remaining good eye, watching as you lean over him and unwind the bandages around his head.
"Lookin' better by the day, I promise. I think we can get you on solid food soon, since your stitches are holding up."
Again, he doesn't respond, but you're used to that. It's not out of petulance or irritation - he was a quiet mentor to you before, so you imagine he'd have little to say even if he were able to.
"Do you need more pain medicine? It's been long enough that it's got to be wearing off."
Finally a sound comes from him. It's wheezing and harsh, thanks to the residual smoke from the blast that hasn't quite gone away. It's the closest to a yes you'll get, barely a grunt of approval at best, so you set out to outfit the IV drip with carefully measured amounts.
There's a pink tinge to it, another additive that's just as carefully measured, and Singed eyes it as you hang the bag on the hook and get read to attach it to the line. He'll be pissed when he can articulate better, but for now you have to follow some of Silco's orders to get the Doctor back on his feet as soon as possible.
"You know I don't have a choice, right? Silco said if I don't get you at least well enough to do something, I'm-"
He makes that sound again, quiet but still somehow the same texture as broken glass underfoot. His hand, the one that's less bandaged and hadn't been quite so damaged, reaches to grab at the hem of your shirt.
It's all he can do right now, but you accept it nonetheless with a watery smile and shaking hands. The medicine and the Shimmer take effect rather quickly, and you're forced to watch as his eye rolls in it socket and he's sent under once more.
Silco had given you two more weeks, the time frame given with a knife tapping against the surface of his makeshift desk in a staccato of poorly-veiled threats. The Doctor doesn't need to know that specific deadline, it'll do nothing but hinder him rather than push it along.
All you can do is make him comfortable and hope that your efforts aren't in vain.
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marauderundercover · 3 years
Text
This Side of Normal Chapter Three
Previous
AO3
Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.
“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.
“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response
“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.
“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.
“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.
“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.
“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.
“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.
----
Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.
“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.
----
Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.
----
Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.
“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.
“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.
“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.
“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.
“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.
“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.
“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.
“No problem.” He says.
“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.
“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.
“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.
“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.
“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.
“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.
----
Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.
“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.
“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.
“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.
“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.
“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.
“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.
“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.
“I won.” She says with a wide grin.
“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.
“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.
“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.
“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.
“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”
“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.
“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.
“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.
“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.
“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.
“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.
Next
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homoose · 3 years
Text
Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV
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Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, a smidge of angst
Warnings/Includes: none
Word count: 4.4k
a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.
Series Masterlist
———
“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.
“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.
“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”
“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”
“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.
“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”
The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.
“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”
He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”
Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”
“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.
Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”
Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”
“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.
“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.
“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”
“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.
Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.
Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.
Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.
Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.
Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.
With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.
“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.
“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.
When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”
Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”
The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.
He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.
“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”
“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”
Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.
Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.
When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”
Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.
“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.
A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”
Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.
Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”
“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”
“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”
Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.
Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.
“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.
“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”
She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.
They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”
“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”
“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.
“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.
“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.
“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”
She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”
She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”
“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”
Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”
“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.
She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”
Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”
Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”
He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”
She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.
She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”
He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.
“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.
“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.
Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”
“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.
“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”
“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.
“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”
“Sorry?” he asked.
“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”
“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.
Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”
“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”
“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”
They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”
He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”
He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”
He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”
“I’ll respond to your email.”
When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.
Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering
Hi!
I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?
Really looking forward to seeing you in action.
Spencer
He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.
He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.
He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.
He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.
He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.
“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”
When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.
Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”
“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”
Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.
“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”
Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”
JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.
“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”
He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”
JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”
“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.
His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.
He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.
“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.
“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.
JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”
Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”
“So?”
“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”
JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”
He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”
...
Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.
Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.
The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.
He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.
“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”
“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”
He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”
“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.
“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”
Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.
...
Y/N Y/L/N
Re: Re: Volunteering
Hi,
I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.
I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.
I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.
Y/N
1 Attachment: Background Check
Hi,
I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.
Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.
It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.
Spencer
1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid
If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.
Thanks for that.
No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.
This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.
I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.
If you’re up for it, it’s on me.
———
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