#how am i supposed to make it through the end of this semester i am so tired i am so tired i am so tired

[ace-no-isha]

genuinely don’t know how i’m supposed to make it to 21 it’s less than 50 days away but i don’t want to get there i don’t want to grow older the weight of the future is too much to bear i’m not made for this

#tw self h4rm #tw sui ideation #delete later #constantly wondering how much damage losing ace at age 20 did to my brain #but also i just cannot handle this anymore #how am i supposed to make it through the end of this semester i am so tired i am so tired i am so tired #every day is an uphill battle again i don’t know why but i am not built for this #maybe it’s the seasons changing and being cold all the time and the sun setting by 4:30pm #but it’s painful to try to survive the winter #i was born in december and the cold months have never stopped trying to take my life along with everything else #the little warmth in my body is seeping out my bones and the cuts in my flesh and the tears i can’t cry #i can only take so much #it has been a hard year #i’ve grown so much but it feels like i’m sliding backwards and breaking bones on the fall #the climb up feels like it’s gonna be impossible after this #i am going insane #having an escape plan within reach again helped me calm down a little bit but i don’t know it’s not enough #it’s never been enough #trying to find a reason to keep going but i don’t know what to look for anymore

[gallusrostromegalus]

You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage.  I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony  class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student.  The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank.  Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty.  The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature. 

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master.  The Poem is read aloud.  The Flowers are admired.  The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told.  The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea. 

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink.  This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class!  I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on.  We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes.  We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me)  were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent.  I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish).  While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though."  He indicated my flip-flops.  "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes."  Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'.  "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

*

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously. 

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity.  The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size.  My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it. 

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right?  It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?"  She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design. 

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling.  The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first.  My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement.  My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem.  By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me!  So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:



"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."



The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest!  This is magnificent!"  he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded.  The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!"  he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi.  So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning.  Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale. 

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming.  Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-"  the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond.  "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it.  100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.



So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor,  and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.



***

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#Family Lore #Tea Ceremony #Matcha #injury mention #blood mention

[plmp0]

The Nerd

Summary: Jake moved to your school because of his parents work, and you couldn't help but think how a nerd like him would fuck so u made that ur challenge.

Warnings: Nerd!Jake, kinda mean Jake, kinda switch Jake, pervet!reader, kinda uncomfortable, reader is so pushy (whatever that means), public touching, manipulative!reader, hair pulling, spanking, rough!fucking, p in v, unprotected sex (please protect), squirting, fingering, i think that's it.

A/N: Again this was an old draft so sorry if the quality is not the best,i tried to edit some stuff but it's 3 am right now so idk what i was doing 💀, also there might be some typos sorry for that. And finally just note that english is not my first language but yeah enjoy ~~ (also i just realised how long this is)

Jake has been always the top of his class, most of his time is around his books, not having a single friend because for him that means wasting time. So it was quite surprising when his parents decided to move to a new house, and in the middle of the school semester, no less. He didn't like that at all.But when he arrived in his new home, Jake didn't feel so bad anymore. It was a really big house, almost as big as his old school, and with the biggest library he'd ever seen, even bigger than the town's. Not having to worry about leaving his friends was also one of the things that didn't let him have ones, they have to move a lot because of his dad's work so things weren't adding up anyways.

It was Jake's first day in this new school, spending the whole night studying to catch up to their pace and also to maintain his top student image, he went to the asigned classroom. As he expected, no one knew who he was, everyone looked at him weirdly and a boy with glasses even whispered to the person next to him that he "looked like a nerd".He sat down and waited for the class to start, the teacher arrived a few minutes later and greeted the students before calling the attention to the new student. "Everyone, please, give a warm welcome to our new student, Jake. Now, I don't want anyone disturbing his studies, if you do I will make sure the principal knows." the teacher said, giving a stern look at some boys in the back, one of them was the same one who had made fun of Jake's appearance.The boys in the back, as if sensing their teacher's glare, tried to look as innocent as possible. Some of the other kids were talking about the new student while the rest were too focused on their phones or books. Jake nontheless ignored and filtered any meaningless noise, focusing on the class instead. "Alright, now, open your books on page 249. Y/n, you can read until page 270, then we will move on to the next chapter." The teacher said, making Jake shift his attention to you.

You nodded, but Jake was sure you hadn't heard the teacher, as your eyes were glued to the phone, scrolling through something. You didn't even try to look like you were reading, and when the teacher noticed this she went over and took the phone away from you, Jake shaked his head unimpressed not liking that you made him waste a full 10 minutes. You tried to convince her to give it back, but the teacher, Mrs. Smith, didn't relent and kept it until the end of class. Jake tried to focus again on the class, but his mind was somewhere else, you not shutting up talking loud enough as if u were sitting next to him, he huffed turning around to face you and giving you a cold glare, making you stop and shiver, not saying anything else but finding interest on him, you've always liked nerds. He sighed, relieved, and continued to pay attention to the class, writing down everything he was supposed to and more. Once class ended, everyone left except you, Jake and Mrs. Smith, who wanted to speak to him about some important things, as well as talk to him about his grades and how he would fit into the class. You stood up and stretched, yawning before heading towards the teacher to get ur phone back, not caring much for what the two were discussing, "Oh, Mrs. Smith, do you happen to have my phone? You took it earlier and I just want to go to my next class." You said, trying to sound as polite as possible to avoid getting scolded, you didn't care that much but the principal had told you to behave.

"Oh, yes. Here you go. But next time please try not to use it during class, or else I'll have to take it away again, alright?" She handed you the phone, you quickly nodded and thanked her, turning on the phone and walking away rolling your eyes. "Oh, and before I forget, here are the things that are new to the semester. Jake, I'm sure you'll do great." She handed him a folder full of papers, which he took, thanked her and left. He went over the papers as he walked, not paying much attention to where he was going, but making sure to read every line, his eyes were so focused on the paper that he didn't even notice you. "Hey, watch out." But you didn't, instead, the two of you bumped into each other, dropping the papers and Jake huffed losing the spot he was reading. You fell, not being able to catch yourself because your hands were holding the phone, you scoffed annoyed. "What the fuck, watch where you're going." "Says the one who didn't watch their step, dumbass." Jake mumbled, picking the papers. "What was that?" You asked, not quite hearing him, and not happy about being called a dumbass.

Jake turned to face you, giving you a stern look while collecting his papers not wanting to drag this convo any longer. You were about to argue back when you noticed the papers he was collecting, and how much there was. You got curious, how could this nerd get so much extra credit on the first day? "Hey, let me see." You took the papers away from him, skimming through them. "Are you serious?" U exclaimed,"Hey, give it back. And watch your tone, it's very rude." Jake glared at you. "Why should I?" You smirked. "What are you gonna do about it? Tell on me? Go ahead." You said mockingly, Jake massaged his forehead annoyed and grabbed the papers, pulling them from you, making you stumble and drop the phone again, "Hey!" You yelled, looking at your phone. "Do you have any idea how expensive that was?!" "Then be more careful with it, maybe then it won't fall" Jake shrugged, fixing the papers and putting them in his backpack, you rolled your eyes and picked up your phone checking it and you huffed relieved seeing that it didn't break. U bit ur lips this new student is really getting into ur nerves, but you had a better way to deal with him. "Whatever, loser." You turned around and left, not wanting to get in trouble on the first day.

Jake chuckled a little bit as u left, "what a great first day" he mumbled with sarcasm in his tone, heading to his next class but he stopped mid-way, he was so focused on what had happened that he didn't realize how lost he was, not having any idea of where he had to go and now his late for class, great. He spent a long time looking for class that now he has arrived late, sighing relieved when he finds the door open and walks in. "Sorry for arriving late, sir. I'm the new student, Jake." "Don't worry about it. Go ahead and take a seat. You're in the back." the teacher said, and Jake nodded, walking towards the back and sitting down trying to ignore the fact that u were his seatmate as you were already sleeping or that's what he thought, the teacher didn't even stop to breath in the passing 30 minutes making everyone yawn well everyone appart from Jake, he was busy writing when he let a very loud gasp making everyone look at him questionably, he excused himself feeling embarrassed as he felt your hand  wondering in his thighs above his jeans, his mind was racing and he wasn't able to focus at all, he looked at you and noticed the smirk on your lips as u rested ur head on the table,

oh that was not good. The teacher didn't say anything and continued the lesson, but Jake couldn't focus anymore. He couldn't believe this, he never let anything shift his attention before neither was he touched this way by a girl in a fucking classroom. He shifted on his chair, trying to move away from you, but that only caused your hand to travel higher, making his face flush and you grin liking the reaction u got from him, ur grin got bigger when u felt his bulge on ur hand. Jake felt a chill go down his spine, he was not enjoying this at all, why would he? This was just distracting, and he wanted to stay focused that's what he tried to convince himself but the fact that he stopped getting away from you made you continue ur movements, you caressed his thigh through the fabric, and then moved on to his bulge, squeezing it gently and rubbing him.

He gasped and tensed up, closing his eyes and trying not to move. He bit his lips as the sensation was getting stronger, and soon his cock was rock hard, throbbing under your touch, Jake was so new to this feeling he was going crazy, you smirked as u felt his member twitch, you looked at him and could see the embarrassment in his face, u leaned on him and whispered quietly "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Naughty boy." you teased, licking his ear. Jake bit his lips and moved his head, trying to get away from you, he was so scared that someone is gonna see the both of u, and seconds later the entire class was staring at him wondering what's wrong when he hitted his knee on the table while trying to squirm. He didn't know what to do, this was kinda embarrassing but it feels so good, and he didn't want it to stop, he opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, but when he felt your hand squeeze him, he gasped and couldn't hold back a moan, causing him to cover his mouth. He was redder than a tomato, and he couldn't look at the teacher or the other students afraid to get caught, you continued, enjoying his reactions, and the fact that everyone was focused on their things. It was obvious that Jake wasn't getting away, and that was fine with you. He was hard and throbbing, and his precum had leaked, creating a small dark stain on his jeans. Jake bit his lip and tried to muffle his moans, but you didn't want him to almost punishing him for what he did previously, you squeezed him again, rubbing his length. "You're so hard, Jake. I didn't think you would like this. You're so naughty~" you whispered.

Jake whined and closed his eyes, shaking his head, not wanting to admit that neither to hear it now it was hard enough from his to muffle his sounds, but it was true, he did like this. And the fact that he was hard as a rock proved it if only he didn't have to be in a space full of people he'd acted differently. He was getting close you could feel it as he was breathing heavily  his eyes were tightly shut, his hips were moving with your hand and you thanked god that u were sitting at the end of the class or the teacher would have seen everything, you sped up your movements and that's when Jake lost it, his body tensed up and his hips buckled, he groaned as quietly as he could before releasing his load on his jeans, making a small wet spot. You grinned, stopping your movements and moving away from him. Jake opened his eyes and looked at his pants, noticing the stain, and realizing what just happened, he looked around, seeing everyone staring at him, the teacher was waiting for him to answer a question, and the rest were looking at his flushed form face confused. He gulped and cleared his throat, looking at the teacher, not knowing what the question was.

"Are you okay, Jake? Are you feeling sick?" The teacher asked. "N-no... Sorry, I'm okay..." Jake said. "I would like to believe you, but, I'll let it pass since it's your first day. U should focus or u wont catch up, understood?" , "Yes, sir..." Jake nodded. "Good. Now, can anyone tell me the answer to the question?" The teacher looked around, waiting for someone to answer. "Uh... Y/n." The teacher looked at you. "Yes, sir. 54." You said, knowing the answer and not caring enough about this class. "Correct. Thank you, Y/n. Now, let's move on." The teacher turned around and started writing on the board. Jake felt relieved that he got out of this situation without getting caught, but now he had to deal with the mess you made, his jeans were ruined and he turned to look at you, seeing the mischievous smile on your face. He knew you weren't gonna leave him alone. He sighed and looked away, trying not to think about it and focus on class. But he couldn't. For the rest of the class, Jake couldn't focus, and his thoughts kept going back to you, and what had happened. His cheeks were pink, and his dick was still hard, the cum stain on his jeans didn't go away, and every time he moved, he felt it rub against him.

Once the class ended, Jake gathered his things and left as fast as he could, not wanting to see anyone, or get more attention. He rushed out of the classroom and walked quickly, heading towards the bathroom. He needed to change and get out of this, it was too much for him, he got to the bathroom taking care of the mess and removing his jacket tacking it around his waist while getting his dresshirt out of his pants hoping that i'll hide something before getting out of the bathroom, he sighed trying to calm down as he felt a hand on his shoulder "Hey, nerd. Wait." It was you, smirking. Jake turned around, facing you, his face still a little flushed from earlier and his body tensed upon seeing you, "Y-yes?" Jake asked his words getting out more broken than he anticipated,

he cleared his throat waiting for you to speak, u scanned him the grin never leaving ur lips " looks like you took care of yourself already" u whined disapointed "too bad i wanted to help you" "Wdym?" he cleared his throat again fixing his hair as he felt some sweat forming at the end of his forehead "no need to do that" he mumbled looking at you giving him your puppy eyes, he shifted his eyes to look elsewhere just wanting to go home at this rate feeling tired already but there was no way u'd give up, you really wanted him to lose it so curious to see what he'd do. "But, Jake... You looked so cute when you were enjoying yourself..." You purred, putting a hand on his chest. "I wanted to make you feel good..." he furrowed his eyebrows not loving how you are adressing him "s-stop" his voice was breaking, he didn't know what was going on but he didn't like this. "Aww, come on, Jake... Just admit it... You liked it... And I'm sure you would love it if I continued..." You smiled, and moved your hand down, resting it on his lower stomach. "Stop, we are still in school!" He exclaimed, his voice slightly louder. "Oh, come on, Jake... There's no one here..." You grinned, pressing your palm against his crotch. Jake bit his lips, holding back a moan and his eyes widened when he felt your hand press against him.

His pants were too tight, and he was already half hard. You didn't know how or when but you felt ur back pressed on the wall Jake leaning to face you as his lips were inches away from your ear "I get that you want to be fucked soo badly but i have things to do" Jake whispered you moaned feeling him suck on your earlobe before he left leaving you hot and confused, a smirk formed at your lips licking them "ahhh m gonna have so much fun" u mumbled adjusting ur clothes and heading to meet one of your friends from the other class. After the incident with you, Jake avoided you as much as he could. But that didn't stop you from teasing him, and he always had an excuse not to interact with you, or anyone else, really. He focused on his studies more than the normal days trying to distract himself from you, he was starting to get really frasturated by all of your teasing. You on the other hand were getting annoyed, you had tried so many times to get close to him, or just talk to him, but he always had an excuse to brush you off, and he always seemed so busy. You knew he was trying to avoid you, and you were determined to make him give in taking it as a challenge at that point.

One day, during class, the teacher decided to choose randomly two people for next week's project and to ur luck Jake was paired up with you for the presentation and you couldn't be happier. He wasn't too happy about it that's what you noticed but he had no choice, and the teacher said the two of you would have to meet outside of class. That's when the fun began. Jake was sure that he was screwed. You had him trapped.You were gonna make him lose his control, and there was no way out of it. It was the day you r supposed to meet up for your project, Jake suggested going to a cafe nearby the school but you being your stubborn self insisted to meet up in ur house saying that it'd be better and calmer and blah blah blah, Jake couldn't help it but agree after his failed attempts. He was standing in front of your door inhaling deeply before knocking a few times, you were quick to open the door smiling at him and welcoming him in.

He was surprised when he saw ur outfit, your small shorts not leaving anything for imagination, ur blue crop top hugging ur breasts perfectly, he clicked his tongue rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly when you told him to sit in the living room and you went to get some water, coming back quickly and sitting next to him body stuck to his with the glass in ur hands. "So" Jake started wanting to start with the project and leave quickly "we should start, what's the theme?" He asked looking through his backpack and taking out a notebook and a pencil, u rolled ur eyes at his words "come on, Jakey, you know we don't have to do this right now." u said handing him the glass of water which he accepted "it's not healthy for you to be always studying, let's take a break." "We need to get this done, Y/n." He said sternly, sipping the water. "We can't waste time. So, what's the theme?" "The theme is... The importance of a good education." You smiled, remembering the topic that you picked out. "Seriously?" Jake said mockingly knowing very well how u r always sleeping during classes or just on your phone. "Yeah, seriously." You smiled, taking the glass from his hands and setting it on the table. "Don't worry. I'm not stupid." "I know." He said, and before you could say anything else, he pulled out his phone. "Let's start, shall we?"

"Sure, Jake." You smiled, and started explaining your ideas for the project, and the two of you started working. Jake didn't like that you kept distracting him flashing ur cleavage every now and then but he couldn't say anything cause you were being very professional. He didn't think it was possible, but you were doing a really good job. Maybe this wasn't so bad. You noticed his reaction and you couldn't help but smirk a little, you knew he was gonna lose it and soon. The two of you worked for a couple hours, and by the time it was over, Jake was exhausted. He was glad you were smart enough to not screw this up, but he was still suspicious. You had been nothing but nice the whole time, and it was a bit out of ordinary.You stretched and smiled. "That was a good session, huh?" "Yeah. I'm glad we were able to get some work done." Jake said, packing his stuff. "Yeah. Me too." You smiled, and stood up. "I'm gonna get some snacks, I'll be right back." Jake nodded and waited for you. You came back a few minutes later, carrying a tray of fruit, cookies, and drinks. You set the tray on the coffee table and sat next to him, Jake had some cookies eyes not leaving his phone for a couple of minutes before speaking "Alright, I think we should stop here." , "Oh, why?" You asked, tilting your head. "Because we're finished." Jake said, closing his notebook. "We're not done yet." You pouted. "I wanna hang out a bit." "Hang out? With me?" Jake asked raising one of his eyebrows, "Why not?" You shrugged. "Well, we have nothing in common." Jake said, standing up. "Besides, I have a lot of work to do. And so do you." "Aw, come on, Jakey." You pouted, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him down onto the couch. "We have plenty of time." "No, we don't." Jake said removing ur hands from his body, but you were faster as u landed one of them on his crotch making him gasp loudly.

"W-what are you doing?", "What's wrong, Jake? It's just a hand." You smiled, squeezing his crotch. Jake exhaled his eyes fierceful as he looked u down tongue clicking, one of his hands sliding his hair up "you are really a slut ha" "Only for you, Jakey~" You purred, stroking his growing erection. Jake groaned and bit his lip. "Stop i don't think you'll be able to handle what's coming!" Jake warned, his tone more stern. "I'll take my chances." You grinned, continuing rubbing him over his pants, Jake growled and grabbed your arm, pulling it away and pinning it to the couch. "You really don't get it, do you? This is the only chance you're gonna get." He growled, tightening his grip on your arm. You winced a little at the pain and bit your lip. "Sorry. I'll behave. Promise just give it to me" you said pouting a bit. "Woah" Jake chuckled lowly, "someone is being a needy slut today." He said having enough from restraining himself his frustration takkng over him, and you moaned loving his choice of words,"Please, Jake. Please. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want, anything please" You begged. "Anything? (He paused for a second) but again it's not a surprise after seeing how hard you tried to get to my dick" He hummed licking ur lips slowly. "Yes. Anything. Just fuck me." You begged, and Jake leaned down, kissing you roughly. You moaned, enjoying the kiss, and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He continued kissing you hungrily, his hands exploring your body.

He broke the kiss, and pulled back, staring at you, his eyes moved to your boobs who were almost exposed because of this position, the blue complementing your skin and making him lick his lips constantly, he has never really went with a girl above kissing and touching here and there however he watched enough content to know what to do, his hand groped one of ur breast squeezing it roughly his nails digging on the fabric as u moaned loudly. "You're so beautiful, Y/n." Jake whispered, his soft tone contradicting his rough touches, "T-thank you." You said, blushing a little , he smiled seeing how calm you are now that you are getting what u want, he pulled the strap of ur crop top down exposing your breast the sight making him gulp as he massaged the other one he neglected earlier, his other hand moving down to cup your pussy through your shorts making you moan and squirm. He groaned as he felt your wetness through the fabric "Fuck, you're so wet, Y/n." Jake grinned, "Soaking." "J-Jake..." You moaned, arching your back, grinding against his hand. "Shh, isn't that what you wanted? So shut up and enjoy it"he smirked, leaning to deliver kisses on ur neck. He kept rubbing your pussy through ur shorts and you couldn't help but whine wanting to feel him against ur bare skin. He pulled his hand away and looked at you. "You want more, Y/n?" He asked, smirking. You nodded, your chest heaving and your eyes wide. "Then take them off." Jake said. "Your shorts." You gulped, and stood up, pushing your shorts down, and taking them off, tossing them aside.

Jake sat on the couch manspreading a bit and patting his lap, u followed his order and sat on his lap grinding your pussy against his hard member while he cupped ur ass, his hands running over the soft skin, he leaned down and placed his lips on your nipple sucking on it making u throw your head back moaning and grinding ur pussy harder against him. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside and running your hands over his chest. Jake groaned and moved his hands down, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, you raised your hips, helping him as he pulled them down, tossing them away. His hand went back to cup your pussy, and he moaned feeling the wetness. "God, you're soaked." Jake groaned, running two of his fingers on ur slit, spreading the juices and making you moan loudly, Jake grinned as u were already a mess, and he has just started. "So fucking wet. Just for me." Jake hummed, his fingers playing with your clit, the pleasure making your body jerk. Jake felt his hands act on themselves, his index finger teasing ur entrance making u buckle ur hips, "I'm not gonna do anything if u don't behave, y/n" he growled,

his fingers going to rub your clit roughly, his eyes were focused on ur reaction and you didn't have to try to put up an act, your body was shaking eyes rolling back. You nodded and closed your eyes, biting your lip and trying to stay still, even though all you wanted was to grind your pussy on his fingers, he lifted his free hand spanking ur ass hard making u gasp, your body jerked a bit and Jake rubbed the spot he had spanked, "Good girl." He purred his finger went to tease ur hole once again. He slowly pushed his finger inside, his cock twitching at the feeling of your tight walls. He has only seen a pussy on videos and nothing could compare to the feeling of the real thing, he pushed his finger deeper and moved it in and out slowly, feeling you clench around him. He moved his finger a bit deeper, looking at ur expressions mouth gaped eyes long gone and he grinned. adding another digit and moving it at the same pace, he lifted u a little curling his finger inside you, hitting a sweet spot. "Feels good, huh?" Jake asked and you nodded, moaning loudly, and he spanked you again. "Words." He growled. You gasped, and let a small cry. "Y-yes! It feels so good, Jake!" Jake grinned, and kept moving his finger, hitting that same spot every time. Your body jerked and he noticed how close you were, "you were acting up just a few days ago and look at you now, where did that attitude go ha?" He chuckled when u didn't answer him his fingers reaching deeper making u spasm on his lap,

"Come on, cum for me. Let go." He groaned, his voice husky, and a few seconds later, your pussy clenched around his finger, and you let out a loud moan as you came, squirting all of your juices on his pants, Jake groaned feeling the warmness of ur juices land on his cock, ur body still shaking as he was still moving his fingers inside you, he pulled out groaning at ur attempt to keep him in by squeezing him tightly, his cock throbbing inside his pants as he licked his fingers clean tasting u making you squirm and he gave them to u, you licked them and moaned at the taste, his free hand moved down cupping ur ass before he spanked u again, you moaned loudly and looked at him, "You want me to fuck you, right?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly. "Please." You begged. "You've been such a good girl for me so far, so I'll give it to you." He kissed ur jaw talking over ur skin "but i'll have to punish you for what you did these passing days" he mumbled making u shiver a bit, his hand squeezed ur ass roughly. "Now get up, i'm gonna bend you over the table and fuck your slutty little pussy" he said patting ur core and you whined, but did as he told u, getting up and bending over the table, spreading your legs for him, he groaned at ur eagerness and quickly unbuttoned his pants pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock finally springing free, you looked behind you and bit your lip seeing his length, "wow, you're big." You mumbled. He smirked and leaned over, his body pressing against yours, his lips near your ear. "I'm gonna make sure to make you scream, and never think about going around whoring for nerds again" He whispered, making you whimper, his hands grabbed your ass, giving it a few squeezes, he rubbed his cock on your pussy, making you moan and squirm. "So impatient. Behave." He growled slapping ur inner thighs and steadying u in place

"Sorry" u mumbled trying to stop yourself, Jake smirked and rubbed the tip of his cock against ur clit, making you whine and bite your lip, you felt like you were gonna explode, the teasing was driving you crazy. His hips rolled and his tip poked ur entrance, you moaned and arched your back, trying to take his length inside, he spanked you again making you yelp and he held you down, "i'm the one in charge here, not you" he growled and you nodded, letting out a breathy moan, he pulled back and slapped his cock against your clit a couple times making u shake, the sensation driving u mad and before u could complain his length entered u, the tip slowly entering u and stretching your tight walls making you cry out, "fuck you're tight." Jake groaned, feeling the warmth and wetness of your pussy wrapped around him, the pleasure was almost unbearable, his hand went to massage your ass and squeeze it a few times, his other hand gripping your hip tightly, nails digging into the skin, his eyes were focused on where his cock met your pussy and how he disappeared inside of you. He pushed himself deeper and pulled out slowly, the drag of his length inside you was incredible, you moaned and gripped the edge of the table, your body trembling as he kept thrusting into you, his cock filling you completely. Jake's hand traveled up, his palm resting between your shoulder blades and applying pressure, making your cheek rest against the table. He pulled out and slammed back into you, his balls slapping against you and you let out a loud moan, the feeling was overwhelming.

You felt his fingers grab your hair, pulling you up and his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, his tongue invading your mouth, the kiss was sloppy yet intense, his thrusts were getting faster, his tongue moving in and out of your mouth, tasting every inch of it. You broke the kiss and let a loud moan, feeling him brush at ur spot, his hand was gripping the hair at the back of your head, his nails digging into the skin and he was panting, his breath fanning your cheek, he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of ur walls around him, Jake was scared that he'd become addicted to ur pussy the thought of getting out of you was already not clicking with him, his other hand grabbed your hip and he started slamming into you harder, his cock hitting that same spot again, making you scream in pleasure. He groaned, feeling his orgasm building up, his movements became sloppy and his hips stuttered "Fuck, look at u now, taking my cock so well" Jake said, his words coming out in a mix of moans and groans, he let out a low groan and threw his head back, his hips snapping into you a couple more times and he buried himself deep inside of you, cumming and filling your pussy, you moaned at the feeling of his cum filling you and painting your walls white, your legs trembled and you let out a loud moan as your body jerked, reaching your orgasm and squirting all over his cock, your walls tightening around him, milking him. "Fuck" Jake groaned, his hands leaving your hair and hips, his palms resting on the table as he leaned forward, panting heavily, his chest pressed against your back. He was sweating his skin hot. 

Jake's cock slipped out of you and he let a small groan. His eyes focused on your pussy and how your juices were mixed with his cum, and the sight alone made him hard again, he grabbed your legs and spread them, making you whine. His other hand stroked his cock and he guided his tip to your pussy, pushing his cock inside making you whine "J-Jake, what are you doing? I'm sensitive." You mumbled, your voice tired. "We're not done yet, baby. I need to teach you a lesson." Jake growled, his hands going to rest on your hips squeezing them, he started thrusting into you roughly, not giving you time to adjust and his hips snapped into you, his balls slapping against your clit, you were a mess, moaning and whimpering, begging for him to stop. Jake growled and bent down, his face next to yours. "I warned you before but u didn't listen. So shut up and take it." He growled, and his hand went to slap your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh. Your body was trembling and the feeling of his cock pounding into you was amazing, it felt so good!

tbh u didn't imagine him to go this hard on you and ohh god how you love it, no one has ever fucked you this good. The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the lewd sounds of his cock entering you filled the room you were a mess, ur hair sticking on ur face, juices mixed with his cum dripping from your pussy messing up the table. Jake groaned, his breathing uneven and his hips stuttered. He was close again, and so were you. "Cum for me, Y/n." Jake groaned, his thrusts were getting faster, he was losing his rhythm eyes closed biting his lower lip until he couldn't hold it anymore, his hand reached ur clit rubbing it fastly making u whimper "OmG" u rolled ur eyes ur release hitting u like a truck and with a couple of hard thrusts he followed u, cumming inside of you, his cum mixing with the previous one, his hips kept rolling, riding out his high, the feeling was intense, his cock twitched and he pulled out, collapsing on the couch, panting heavily. "Holy shit." You mumbled, trying to catch your breath. Jake nodded, running a hand through his hair.

The two of you were quiet for a few minutes, then Jake got up, helping u getting up too and bringing u to the bathroom. "I'll clean the table." Jake said, leaving and coming back with some wet wipes, he cleaned the table looking at u wearing a robe while scanning his body "u okay?" He asked suddenly feeling nervous not knowing what to do now, u smiled and nodded, "yeah, thanks" u mumbled, he nodded back and looked away, he was wearing his boxers now looking at his pants that are full of ur juices, he sighed and grabbed them cleaning them with the wet wipes and getting dressed, u stared at him confused, "what are u doing?" You asked. "Leaving." Jake said, buttoning his shirt.

"It's getting l-late" his voice stuttered when he felt your hand helping him with his shirt, he heard his phone ringing and went to get it seeing his mom's name on the screen, "hi" his voice was low as he answered, and u could hear his mother's voice asking where is he,  he told her that he was busy with his homework and forgot to call, he was glad that his parents are never home so he wouldn't have to explain anything, he bid goodbye to his mom and hang up. "Is everything ok?" You asked, and Jake nodded. "I gotta go." Jake said, gathering his stuff. "I'll see you tomorrow." You said, and Jake nodded, giving you a small smile and leaving, making you finally drop on the floor as u couldn't feel ur legs anymore but u smiled nonetheless u had so much fun, and this will not be the last time for sure.

Woah i couldn't edit this whole thing so m gonna comeback to it after having some sleep, also this was supposed to be a virgin Jake fanfic but yeah i got carried away and forgot about that sorry

#enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #enhypen jake #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x reader

[cowgurrrl]

Something in the Orange

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk

Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???

You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 

Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 

Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.

A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"

"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.

"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.

"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."

"With who?"

"None of your business." 

"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.

"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"

"Mr. Flynn's."

"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"

"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.

"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 

"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 

"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"

"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 

"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.

"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 

"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 

"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.

"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 

"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 

"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.

"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"

"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."

"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 

"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 

"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.

"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 

"You said that already." 

"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."

"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 

"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 

"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 

"Well, I find that hard to believe." 

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 

"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 

"How long has it been doin' that?" 

"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."

"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 

"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."

"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"

"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.

"Only if you really mean it." 

"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"

"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 

"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 

"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 

What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 

When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 

"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.

"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 

"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 

"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"

"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.

"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."

"You didn't like school?"

"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 

"That was me in college." 

"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 

"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.

"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 

"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 

"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 

"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.

"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 

"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.

Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 

"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 

"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 

Thanks again. See you Friday. -J

You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 

The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 

By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 

"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 

"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 

"All good things, I hope."

"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 

"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.

"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 

"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 

"Well, thank you. I owe you." 

"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 

"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."

"Mr. Miller-"

"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.

"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 

"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."

"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."

"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 

So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 

After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 

Simply, "When can I start -E." 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel miller au #the last of us fic #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #the last of au #tlou au #tlou #tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou #joel and ellie #the last of us hbo #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader

[totheblood]

true blue. (one)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie has a new philosophy: don't fall in love and you won't get your heart broken. ellie also has a really cute new friend. ellie admires some birds in this chapter idk if thats significant

warnings: 18+ (as a general rule for this series and my blog as a whole) suggestive themes, eventual smut, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: i am hoping to make this a series if enough people like it and want me too... i really appreciate support and feedback through asks and replies/reblogs, it all means so much to me. also i have this whole thing planned out and i plan for it to be very messy hehe... i love drama idk

This year was going to be different.

At least that’s what Ellie told herself as she gripped the straps of her worn out backpack. All of the classes her and Cat had planned to take together this semester she had quickly transferred out of by the end of the summer, causing her to rack up an impressive list of classes on her schedule nobody wanted to take. 

“Fuck,” Ellie cursed under her breath as she rushed towards the building her literature seminar was in. “I’m going to be so late.” She was practically cursing herself for waking up so late that morning, her bed seeming much more welcoming than the professor who had 1 star on ‘rate my professors.’ She knew she had fucked up, but at this moment she didn’t really care.

As she made her way down the chestnut lined hallway, she frantically checked the door numbers on each door, cursing each time the door number didn’t align with the one she was supposed to be in. When she did find her classroom at the end of the hallway, she had to steady herself with a few deep breaths before entering. Throughout all of this, however, one thought rang clear through her mind: Fuck Cat.

Ellie never really liked to refer to herself as heartbroken, but that was the nicest way she could put the state that Cat had left her in. Ellie always knew she liked girls and while she had many crushes, and a few kisses, Cat was her first real girlfriend. She was the first person to hold Ellie’s hand in public, post lame birthday posts on Instagram, and the first person to give her an orgasm. But if she was being really honest with herself, her first orgasm belonged to her own hand.

Cat had served as a turning point in Ellie’s life and up until this point she was almost certain  that she had been in love with her. Almost. There was always this sinking feeling that whatever feelings she had for the girl was most likely orchestrated by pure hormones. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that made her feel that way, but there always seemed to be something missing from their relationship. 

Little to Ellie’s knowledge, however, was that was just who Cat was. She made you feel like you were on top of the world, the only person in the universe who could cure her ills, and the only person who got her. She made you feel special, and at the time, that was exactly what Ellie was craving. She needed a person who looked at her like she aligned the stars, and that person was Cat.

Until it wasn’t. Quickly towards the end of the summer Cat got bored and all of the love notes Ellie had written her were quickly discarded within an hour of reading them. She continued to pull away until there was no trace of her left in Ellie’s life. To make matters worse, she broke up with Ellie over text, leaving her dazed and confused. There was nothing left for her to do except to run to Dina’s house and cry in her lap. She hated how pathetic she looked as Dina stroked her hair and shooed Jeese off with the flick of her hand. It was safe to say Ellie was completely over relationships.

Fuck Cat, she thought again, but decided that it being a thought wasn’t enough.

E: Fuck Cat.

D: yea fuck that bitch

Deciding that the text had done enough to calm her nerves, she pushed through the threshold into the classroom. She must’ve not realized how intimate of a class this was when she signed up for it because as she entered all ten of the people in the room now locked eyes with her, and the old man sitting at the front of the table threw her a disappointed look.

“Ellie Williams, I presume?” he questioned, looking at his roster in front of him.

“You do presume.” She awkwardly answered, only receiving a chuckle from a girl sitting at the far end of the table. Ellie looked up to see who it was that laughed at her poorly timed joke but just saw you trying to hide the smile on your face by pretending to write notes.

“You can sit at any open seat, I was just discussing the syllabus.” He told her, his tone sharp. 

“Okay, thanks.” Ellie mumbled under her breath, moving to sit at the open seat next to you considering you seemed like you might be the friendliest person in this room. She quickly moved to get her notebook out but internally cursed herself out for the fifth time that day because she completely forgot her pencil case in her dorm. She decided to save herself the embarrassment of asking if anyone had a pen, so she just continued to ruffle through her bag even though she knew it wasn’t there.

“You looking for something?” you leaned over to whisper to her, still causing her to jump back slightly.

“Yea, a pen?” She whispered back, laughing under her breath to pretend like she wasn’t completely embarrassed right now.

“Here.” A black pen balanced in between your fingers as you offered it to her. She sheepishly thanked you before taking it, making sure your fingers didn’t touch. 

“There will be one main assignment in this class as you can see on the syllabus.” Ellie, obviously not in her element, looked around at all the packets each person was holding. As if you could sense the nerves on her, you shoved your packet in between the both of you, pointing to the assignment the professor was discussing. 

“It is a partner based project and since there are only ten of you I hope this won’t be an issue.” He continued on. “And as you can see it is worth 60% of your grade.” Fuck this, Ellie thought to herself yet again, and fuck Cat too, she added for good measure.

The rest of the 90 minute class went as well as you could imagine, Ellie only having to stop herself from falling asleep three times. When the class was over and she began to collect her things Ellie looked over to where you were stuffing your laptop into your backpack. 

“Hey,” she managed to get out, her fingers fidgeting with her rings. “Would you want to be partners for the project?” 

You let out a breath of relief smiling both to her and yourself. “I would love that actually.” 

“Ok, good.” Ellie chuckled to herself about how nervous she was over something so small “I thought you might’ve thought I was like super unprepared or something since I was late and the pen.” Her eyes widened the pen. “Oh shit, your pen.” Ellie moved to take her backpack off and give back your pen but you abruptly stopped her by placing your hand on her forearm. Your hand right over the very spot Cat had tattooed. 

“Keep it,” you offered her a genuine smile before handing your phone over to her “and put your number in here.” 

Ellie may not have noticed it but she blushed. A part of her knew you were just being kind and you needed her number to work on the project but if this was any other setting this would be considered flirting. Ellie nervously took your phone in her hand and inserted her number and name with a little planet emoji next to it. When she handed the phone back to you she scanned your face for a reaction, smiling to herself when she saw your very own smile. 

“Ellie,” you looked back up at her “nice name.” All Ellie could do was let the tips of her ears turn red as she thanked you. When you offered her your own name and she repeated it back to you, she liked the way it felt on her tongue. She wondered what you wou- No, she wasn’t doing this again.

“I’ll text you tonight about getting started.” You informed her, now slinging your own bag over your shoulder.

“Looking forward to it.” She stated simply, her own feet planted to the floor.

“I presume you are.” You replied with a giggle before turning around and leaving Ellie feeling fuzzy.

Fuck.

The rest of Ellie’s day was uneventful to say the least. She saw a few birds eating a sandwich and thought it was cute, but besides that (and you), her day was boring. She was hoping that this year would be different, that she would be miles ahead of where she was when she met Cat, but she knew she was just worse. She wanted anything, a rebound, a distraction to pull her mind off Cat but all she could do was stare at her ceiling and try not to cry. Or that’s what she was doing until her phone buzzed from it’s place on her stomach.

Y: hey, it’s me

E: Who's me?

Y: pen dealer, duh

E: I thought dealers were supposed to be more discreet.

Y: you know a lot about dealers?

E: I’ve seen a few movies.

Y: nothing is like the movies, be fr

Y: anyways, do you want to meet up to discuss the project tomorrow? we could meet at beans?

E: Yeah, sure. 10?

Y: sounds good, bring cash

E: For? I use apple pay.

Y: for the pens… it was a joke nvm

E: Dumb joke.

The next morning Ellie had to drag herself out of bed so she wouldn’t be late to meet you. She groaned as she watched her roommate sleeping peacefully in her bed while she so desperately wished it could be her. For some reason that she couldn’t place, Ellie found herself smoothing down her hair and checking her teeth in the mirror. She even sprayed some perfume before she left, coughing as she accidentally inhaled some of the liquid. Why was she doing this again?

She saw you through the window of the coffee shop, leaned over your computer screen lost in thought. You tucked your pen between your lips and Ellie couldn’t help but feel like a freak staring at you from the other side. You looked so at peace with your hair tied up and your eyes carefully scanning the screen. Ellie wondered what it would feel like to not have a million things going through your mind at once. 

When she approached you she made a mental note of how your eyes lit up when you saw her. You had known her for a second and you had already looked at her with more adoration that Cat did towards the end of their relationship. 

“Hey, customer.” You joked, as you watched Ellie sit down across from you. 

“You don’t know how to let a joke die, do you?” She questioned jokingly, a warm feeling in both her face and her chest.

“I do not.” You said matter of factly.

The two of you discussed the project, throwing in occasional conversation and jokes when the material got too daunting. After about an hour had passed and the two of you were already feeling burnt out, Ellie suggested you take a walk around campus to “get some fresh air” and “clear your heads.” In reality, she was already growing tired of this project and just wanted to hear your voice ramble on about something other than American Literature.

It was a cool day, and the slight breeze caused both you and Ellie to squint the entire time. There was something so calm about the energy between the two of you. It wasn’t passionate or overwhelming like it was with Cat, but comforting. It was lulling Ellie into a sense of security, but she knew it couldn’t last long. 

“Where are you from?” Ellie spoke up. “Did you grow up around here?”

“Close-ish, I guess.” You answered. “I’m from a town north called Star Valley.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right by Jackson.” Ellie exclaimed. 

“Yea, you’re from Jackson?” The idea that you too lived this close and this was your first time meeting almost seemed criminal to Ellie.

“Yeah, me and my friends grew up there. I’m originally from Boston, though, I moved there with my..” You gave her time to speak, it being painfully obvious she was going to have trouble explaining the situation. “Like my dad? He’s not really my dad, he’s just Joel.” She decided to dumb down her complicated relationship with him for the sake of time. You, however, did not try to get any information out of her, or immediately try to get her to be vulnerable with her like Cat did at the beginning of the relationship. You just smiled at her and continued on with the conversation. 

Ellie liked this. She liked being able to have a conversation with a pretty girl that didn’t make her feel like she was tearing herself open just to bond with you. You two were just bonding in the simplest way people could. The sick and sinister part of her, however, was telling her to leave immediately. To avoid the trouble that another heartbreak would bring her. 

That part of her was starting to win over slowly as she remembered the promise she made to herself. She quickly excused herself and told you she would text you about meeting up again to work on the project. Her brain was telling her run, run, run, but she could tell you were still standing there staring as she walked away towards the direction of her building. 

Later that night, after a cool shower and a few hits of her pen, Ellie found herself ranting to Dina over text again.

E: I’m so fucked.

D: what???

E: I’m working with this really hot girl on a project for one of my classes and today we were walking together and it all seemed normal, like toooo normal, so I left. Like I no joke was like “Bye” mid conversation and LEFT HER THERE. What is wrong with me?

D: what happened to ‘i’m never talking to another girl again’?

E: I’m not.

D: …

E: I’M NOT.

E: IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER SHE PROBABLY THINKS I’M A FREAK FOR RUNNING AWAY TODAY

D: true

E: ?????

D: idk why you would do that so i’m not going to lie to you

D: i would think you are a freak

E: Ok, fuck you.

D: what does she look like?

E: Hot. 

D: oh yes thank you for painting such a vivid picture

D: SEND A PICTURE YOU FREAK

E: You are so mean to me.

Ellie felt the need for validation so she did what any normal person would in that situation: she went to instagram and typed in your full name. To her surprise, there you were, smiling as bright as the sun in your profile picture. Ellie suddenly felt like a kid again scanning through your photos, blushing and smiling to herself as she looked at you, losing focus of her original motive. She didn’t realize how far she had scrolled down until she was stopped by the sight of a familiar face. In a post dated over a year ago it was you kissing another girl. 

And that girl was Cat.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

[boydepartment]

spoil it all- uni student! nishimura riki x uni student! reader

a/n: RHHHHHHHHRAHHHHHHHRAHHAHAHAHHA :3 trying new layout i am sorry if its a lil ugly

warnings- fluff! little angst…! inspired by frank sinatra’s something stupid!

wc- 500-800 words

MASTERLIST

I know I stand in line

Until you think you have the time…

you slipped on your shoes and made your way down the street, it was spring time and you had a small break off school. it was exciting and what was even more exciting was that your best friend here was FINALLY free the same time as you. riki was a hard worker and even being friends he put his work and studies first.

you had grown up a lot in the past couple years with riki, you accidentally met on coincidence and have been talking ever since. both being foreigners studying in a new country. you’d facetime, text, send eachother memes, almost inseparable. unless he had work or was practicing his dancing, or just didn’t have time due to his studies.

so when he called you telling you to come over and hang out with him, you practically rushed over. why wouldn’t you?

To spend an evening with me

And if we go some place to dance…

you both ended up dancing around his small apartment, obviously he was a little better than you, being a dance major and all…

neither of you minded though, he was your best friend and why would he care?

you only cared a little bit… a lot actually…

you always cared, you saw how much he worked on his studies and how much he puts into everything he does.

it was admirable. you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

I know that there's a chance

You won't be leaving with me

you both were laying on the carpet that was freshly vacuumed. the dancing had taken you out and you both were giggling and breathing heavily.

“i wanted to talk to you about something…” riki started and leaned on his side, you turned to him and wiped your forehead.

“what is it?” your heart was pounding. you didn’t know why. maybe it was a sliver of hope.

riki moved onto his stomach now and ran his heads through his hair, his makeshift bracelets jingling, “after university i think i want to go to a training program.”

you blinked as you looked at him, riki had been talking about becoming a professional dancer anywhere after college since you’ve met him.

you smiled at him, “where do you think you’ll go?”

riki looked at you and grinned, “i dunno, korea, new york… maybe back home in japan… i haven’t decided.” he rubbed his eyes and looked up, “maybe i’ll even go to california.”

“i believe in you.”

of course you did, and you’ll always support him. even after college, even after this period of time was over and you both will probably never talk again, after you don’t need eachother anymore, even after all of that. you’d always believe in him, your best friend.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place

And have a drink or two

later on in the night you stood in his dim kitchen making tea. giggling as it was 2am and everything was just so funny. you felt like kids again at a sleepover.

“okay i swear i know how to make my moms tea.” riki said and spoke a lot by nodding his head and moving his hands.

you started to laugh silently, covering your face, “riki i don’t know if it’s supposed to look like that!”

he threw his head back and laughed, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie that matched yours.

you both got matching hoodies last semester because he got tired of having to shoo off locals who tried to talk to you. so he fixed the problem. that was the first time you realized you saw him more than a best friend.

you watched him rush over to the tea bags and threw them in the pot, one of the papers was still attached and it caught fire.

riki jumped back, “WHAT DO I DO?!”

you started laughing, falling to the floor, “it’ll- it should- it’ll burn out quickly just turn off- turn off the stove!”

immediately he listened and looked at you on the floor, a little longer than a friend would, a small smile on his face before he started laughing just as hard as you.

And then I go and spoil it all

after the tea fiasco you both laid down in his room. it was around 4 am and he had soft lights around his room. it was still dark but little nooks and crannies of his room were illuminated.

“do you remember when that girl in your class asked if you were single?” you asked while readjusting the blanket. you were both talking about stories throughout your time here at the university.

riki covered his eyes and chuckled slightly, “i froze up! and started speaking japanese- yes of course i remember!”

“you did the same thing to me when that guy came up to me!” you exclaimed and shoved his arm, he acted like he was hurt and pretended to cry. then he stopped and looked at you.

“that guy was ugly you could do so much better. of course i cursed him out in japanese.”

your jaw dropped and you started laughing, “RIKI STOP THATS MEAN!” you went to shove him again but he ended up grabbing a pillow and smacking you, lightly.

you both were giggling after the play fight and you were trying to brush hair out of face. he was above you still laughing and you could help but stare at him.

he was so pretty to you, obviously you always noticed this, you’ve dyed his hair multiple times, done his makeup for some university and community performances, you had every mole on his face memorized. the little details of your best friend were your favorite. and his personality was even more beautiful to you, you loved everything about him. his laugh, the way he words things, how he talks and laughs with his whole body, you were in love with him.

“what?!” riki asked, almost taunting in a way, still playing around.

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

without even thinking you spoke, “i love you…”

“what?”

#enhypen #kpop #enha #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #nishimura riki angst #nishimura riki scenarios #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #nishimura niki x reader #niki enhypen #riki enhypen #riki imagines #niki imagines #enhypen fluff #nishimura riki fluff #enha fluff #enhypen angst #enha angst #enhypen comfort #enha comfort #yang jungwon imagines #lee heeseung imagines #jake sim imagines #jay park imagines #park sunghoon imagines

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.9

Summary: winter break is right around the corner and Wednesday needs to work through her own feelings while trying to overcome the sudden distance. Not that she cares, of course.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist) Tag List: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot

“Are you guys ready for finals?”

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book when you sat down beside her. “Here you go,” you mumbled as you placed the coffee in front of her. The mug was one that she had seen in your room a few times - there was no guarantee it was even your mug to begin with - and matched the one you were currently drinking out of. Whatever you were drinking looked far too pale to be of any genuine use to you. Was there even any caffeine in it?

“Because I am most definitely fucked,” you said before anyone else had the chance to answer you.

“I believe I’m set,” Wednesday answered you; she still wasn’t going to look away from her book.

“Okay, smarty pants.” She couldn’t see you, but she could practically hear your eye roll. “How about you, Enid?”

“I think I’ll pass, but no promises,” Enid answered.

“Yoko?” You asked, turning your attention to the vampire.

“I’ll fail lit, but everything else should be fine,” Yoko said with a shrug.

The three of you started talking about finals, something that Wednesday thought was far too trivial. With everything else you all had going on, why were you so focused on finals? Everyone was going to be going home in a few days for the winter break, what did finals even matter? Pass, fail, you were all going to get a break at the end of it, and if you had all just studied like you were supposed to, none of you would even be worried.

Warmth was suddenly introduced to the side of Wednesday’s thigh, and she looked down just enough to see you had scooted ever so slightly closer. Had you meant to let your thigh touch hers? Had that been a conscious decision on your part, or had it been accidental? If it was on purpose then what could have possibly made you do that, someone was bound to see the closeness. A weakness, truthfully, to let anyone see you getting close to someone.

Wednesday would never dream of doing such a thing.

“I’m just too pretty to do math,” you said with a shrug.

Yoko and Enid laughed while you let a smile slowly form on your lips behind your coffee mug. The sight of you sent Wednesday’s heart racing, but the way Yoko and Enid laughed gave her a different feeling. A feeling that made her want to pull you away back to the dorm so it could just be the two of you. They didn’t need to laugh so hard at your joke, it was unnecessary.

The page of her book never changed as you continued to talk with everyone. The worst part? She wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t looked over at her book with a raised brow. Her elbow connected with your side and you let out a hushed “oof” before going back to your conversation with Enid and Yoko. What she did or did not read was none of your business.

Her eyes drifted aimlessly across the page in a desperate attempt to not listen to your voice. Or notice the heat of your thigh transfering to her and leaving her uncomfortable in a way that wasn’t completely miserable. If you were so worried about failing your finals, why weren’t you out there studying-

-your pinky linked with hers under the table, and Wednesday felt icy fingers grip her heart.

You were still talking as if nothing was going on, as if you hadn’t just done something to make Wednesday’s stomach drop. The mug in your other hand moved effortlessly with your gestures, and yet you squeezed her finger just so slightly. Was it supposed to be comforting?

Because it was. And that was terrifying.

“If I fail this semester, I’m dropping out and becoming a trophy wife,” you said. “What do you think?”

Oh shit. Wednesday’s eyes shot up to surprisingly meet yours; why were you already looking at her? There was a little spark in your eyes, one that Wednesday had started to associate with your desire to fluster her. Because it was clear you knew it worked, otherwise you wouldn’t do it so often. Yet that small smile on your face that you reserved for her and her only…

“You would never survive the first week,” Wednesday answered. Your mouth fell open while Yoko and Enid burst into laughter on the other end of the table.

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you attempted to slap them without getting up from your spot. “You couldn’t do it either.”

Wednesday looked back down at her book; she could feel Enid’s eyes boring into the top of her head. She needed to mind her own business if she knew what was good for her. It was as if Enid could see through her guise of nonchalance, her indifference to you or anything to do with the conversations you were all having. She needed to mind her own business.

You let go of Wednesday’s pinky finger, and she missed the warmth and comfort. But then almost instantly you slid your hand under hers, interlocked your fingers, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Now Wednesday was on the verge of begging Enid not to pay attention, because she knew the heat on her cheeks would be visible soon. And from the look of it, your own skin was flushed. You were going to give the both of you away.

The conversation continued, but Wednesday couldn’t hear a single word of it. No, all she heard was the blood rushing in her ears, her heart pounding within her ribcage. Sweat coated her palm, but she couldn’t tell if it was from you or her. Surely it was you, right? You had a much higher body temperature than she did, there was no way Wednesday was the one with clammy hands. She didn’t even care enough to be nervous. Subconsciously, she squeezed your hand once in return; your nervous smile grew bigger.

“Shit, I gotta head out,” you said after who-knows how long; your eyes were stuck to your phone. “Weems will kill me if I miss another detention.”

“What did you get detention for this time?” Yoko asked in a teasing voice.

“Someone said I made a homophobic joke,” you huffed as you brought your mug up to your lips. With a frown, you realised it was empty.

“Aren’t you gay?” Enid asked with a barely contained grin.

“Yeah, and?” You reached over and shamelessly grabbed the mug in front of Wednesday, bringing it up to your lips to finish her coffee. Your nose scrunched up at how bitter it was. “Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Quit committing hate crimes and get to detention,” Yoko said as she tried to usher you away from the table.

Wednesday felt you squeeze her hand one more time before letting go and standing up. She gave you a side glance - Enid better not say a single word - and you gave her a toothy grin. Why did you have to get yourself in trouble? Could you not behave for a single week? Now you had to leave, which meant she couldn’t tolerate you holding her hand.

“See you guys later,” you said as you grabbed the two mugs to take back to your room. “Unless I commit another hate crime.”

“Get out!” Enid and Yoko shouted at you.

With hands - and mugs - held up in mock surrender and a stupid grin on your face, you left the group to head to your detention. If Yoko and Enid didn’t stop looking at Wednesday, she was going to pluck their eyes out and feed them to the birds in the woods. They need to mind their own business, she thought as she went back to her book.

She still never focused enough to turn the page.

—---

With finals coming to an end, Wednesday was suddenly faced with the realisation that you would be going home for the break. Of course she knew she would be heading home, but it had never actually occurred to her that you, too, would be leaving. Nearly a whole month of you being gone and no easy way to talk to you.

Not that she cared.

Clearly, though, you were also unaware you would be leaving if your rushed attempts to pack was anything to go by.

“Deconstructing this is an art, Wednesday,” you said as Wednesday gave yet another look of exasperation at your nest. “You can’t just move things, there’s a system.”

The sinewy muscles in your forearms flexed as you raked your lithe fingers through your hair and continued to look down at your nest. Wednesday’s eyes stayed glued to your arms as you moved around. Oh how she would love to dissect you and see what was underneath. To see what made you tick, what made you so very distinct from most others that she knew. 

Was your anatomy different from others? With your wings, surely you must be lighter than normal people; unless that meant the muscles near your wings were far stronger than she assumed. Then there were the muscles in your back, did you have extra to accommodate for the foreign limbs? They had to exist, it was only logical. The bones of your fingers were prominent as you picked up a-

“-am I going on this trip?” Wednesday asked.

You froze and stood up straight, turning your head to face her. The skin between your brows wrinkled - why did the word “cute” come to mind? - as you looked around, confusion clear in your eyes. But Wednesday’s eyes were still focused on your hands.

“No?” It came out as a question instead of a statement.

“Then why are my clothes going with you?”

Your eyes darted to the shirt in your hands before going wide. An awkward silence fell over the both of you until you attempted to clear your throat. It was just an attempt to fill the silence, Wednesday could tell, because you suddenly started finding other things around the room to be fascinatingly interested with.

“Are you all packed?” You asked, completely ignoring Wednesday’s question.

“Yes,” Wednesday said simply.

“When is your bunch picking you up?” You asked. “Is the tall man coming?”

Wednesday looked at you for a moment before realisation dawned on her. “You mean Lurch?”

“Yes, Lurch!” You shouted as you snapped your fingers. “I knew it was something cool like that.”

“Why do you care if Lurch is coming?” She walked over to your shelf and started looking at all of your stolen items. I think that scalpel was mine, she thought as she picked up the dull blade.

“I just think he’s neat,” you answered, followed quickly by a *thunk* as you dropped something into your bag. “Do you think I could take him in a fight?”

“He would fold you like a pretzel,” Wednesday answered. Where had you gotten that knife? It certainly hadn’t been hers. Who else did you know that had knives for you to take?

“I think I could take him,” you mumbled.

Wednesday continued facing away from you so you couldn’t see her smile. There was no logic behind your insistence that you could beat Lurch in a fight. What was even going on in that bird brain of yours to make you believe you could beat him? Your illusions of grandeur were endearing, but you would get hurt if you followed through.

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.”

She turned around to see you already holding something out toward her. Your smile remained as she reached out to take it from you. It looked to be a phone; slightly beat up, but functional nonetheless. The screen had a small crack across the top right corner, but the rest was completely intact.

“I know you don’t like technology,” you started, “but just in case there’s an emergency.”

In complete silence, she looked up at you.

“It’s not like Nicky needs it anymore anyway.” Your shrug was impassive but Wednesday could see something else in the way you suddenly avoided her gaze.

She kept her mouth shut as you awkwardly went back to packing your bag; it finally almost looked full. Her eyes scanned your room, finally landing on a piece of paper on your desk. With purpose in her stride, she made her way over to the desk and dug out a pen. The sounds of your movement halted, but she didn’t turn around, just continued writing. Even though she could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

With a signature at the bottom of the page - why had she signed it? You would think she was an imbecile - she finally turned around and handed you the page. She was right; you had finished packing and had just been watching her the whole time. Her fingers grazed yours as she handed you the paper.

“Letters are more reliable,” she said, turning her eyes away from you before she started blushing.

Wait no, she wouldn’t blush, Wednesday Addams never blushed.

“How old school,” you teased. “Romantic, even.”

You needed to quit talking. The words coming out of your mouth needed to stop because everything you were saying was worse than the previous sentence. Writing letters was not romantic, they were practical. What part of it was romantic? Then again, there was something so very personal about someone’s handwriting, like getting to keep a part of them that most didn’t get to see-

-Stop it, Addams. You’re not your father.

“I should get going.” Wednesday hated the way your smile instantly dropped. You really needed to quit with all of this.

“I’ll write you.” You held up the piece of paper. “I… won’t expect a call though.” The audacity you had to tease her. Even though you were absolutely right.

Wednesday gave you one more look before turning around and walking to the door. But her feet moved too slow, they were practically dragging. Why was she not walking her normal pace? There was no logical reason, and she was not trying to get more time with you. It would be four weeks, it wasn’t the end of the world, she would see you again.

“Wait,” you called out, and her feet stuck to the floor. “I forgot to give you something.”

She could hear your bare feet padding across the wooden floor. There was no time for her to turn around before she felt something warm and soft against her cheek; your lips, to be exact. Her eyes went wide and she felt her heart physically freeze in her chest. It felt like an eternity before you removed your lips and stood back up.

Fire engulfed her entire body. You had kissed her cheek. You had walked over, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. No hesitation, no reason behind it, you had just done it. And now Wednesday was frozen in spot, and her whole body felt too hot, and her stomach was in knots, and she felt like she was going to vomit.

“As a goodbye present.” The smallest bit of relief filled her as your voice shook; maybe you were feeling the same way she was. She hoped you were.

“Write soon,” Wednesday said. Her own voice shook and matched yours.

Without giving you any chance to say - or do - another thing, Wednesday rushed out of your room. The door shut behind her with a deeply unsatisfying *click* and she just stood there. Her back fell against the door and she let out a shaky sigh as she looked up at the ceiling.

She was getting in way over her head.

—---

It had been four days since Wednesday had been home for the break, and she found herself missing something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. There was just something missing from the house. Maybe it was less chaotic than when she had left; Pugsley was, after all, attempting to grow up. He was failing, but he was attempting it.

But when Lurch brought the mail in and Wednesday saw a letter with your name on it, she realised exactly what was pulling at her stiff heartstrings.

“Isn’t that your friend from Nevermore?” Pugsley asked as Wednesday tenderly held the letter in her hands.

Friend. That’s not exactly how Wednesday would put it, though she wasn’t quite sure what you were. You could be called a friend, yes; you both associated with each other in and out of school, and you often came over to her dorm to study or talk. That was what a friend was, was it not?

But sure you were also something more. She couldn’t claim Enid made her feel the same way. None of her other friends set up an autopsy for her, or asked her to the Rave’N, or even held her hand underneath the table. You were a friend, but could you be considered something else as well?

Wednesday didn’t answer Pugsley, instead opting to head to her room without a backward glance. Her fingers gingerly opened the letter, making sure not to tear any part of it. Your handwriting was horrendous; that was the first thing Wednesday noticed, and it was almost the only thing she could focus on as she tried to read it.

Hey Wednesday!

I really hope you got this because I lost the paper with your address on it, so I googled it. If this isn’t Wednesday then fuck off, this isn’t for you.

Hope you made it home safe! I got back the other day and I’m already exhausted. Love my family dearly, but there’s just too many of them. I always forget what it’s like to have to share a room. Does that make me spoiled?

All my siblings wanted to tell you hi, so they’re putting little notes at the bottom of the page. You don’t have to answer them, they just think it’s fun to say hi to people. I’m not even sure if they’ve ever written a letter before, so this whole thing is an adventure for them.

No rush to answer this letter, just hoped you made it home safe and sound. Try not to get into too much trouble over the break so you can come back to school. It’s your turn to plan our next outing.

P.S. Hope you can read my handwriting!

Wednesday’s eyes trailed to the bottom of the page where, yes, there were around half a dozen little notes and names. She had yet to know much about your personal life outside of Nevermore, but this was still a shock. How could you bear to have so many siblings in one house?

She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to write back.

It was nearly a week later that Wednesday got the next letter. Again, your chicken scratch was on the front, and she grabbed it from the pile and quickly made her way up to her room. She did her best to ignore the looks her mother gave her as she rushed off; it was none of her mother’s business what correspondence she was receiving.

It’s me again!

Your letter was very fancy, the black paper was a nice touch and Emily loved the wax seal. I think she cut it off and put it on her desk. You better be careful or they’re all going to start writing you letters too. Never seen them so excited to get mail, it was pretty cute. Don’t spoil them though or I’ll never hear the end of it.

Be nice to your family, they just missed you. Not Thing cause he sees you all the time, but no one else does. How’s Lurch? Is he training for our fight to the death? Cause I still think I can take him. He’s no match for me.

We all went snowboarding on the hill behind the house yesterday. You should’ve seen it, it was so cool, Alex finally landed his first jump. Nearly broke a fang in the process, but he’s fine, little vamps always bounce back. Would’ve been funnier if he turned into a snaggletooth though.

By the way, my abuelita and Auntie C want to know what your family is interested in. I don’t know what they have planned, but I would bet it’s nefarious. Which means you might like it, actually.

It should be getting cold up there soon, so stay safe!

P.S. Tell Pugsley I said hi!

Why would you want her to tell Pugsley hello? You had only met him once, what did it matter if she told him or not. Not to mention, why would your family want to know her family’s interests? You didn’t seem like the type of person to have an abuelita. And your little brother was a vampire?

Every new thing in your letter just increased Wednesday’s curiosity of you. You were certainly an oddity, and Wednesday had a fatal curiosity to know everything she could. Learning about your personal life was quickly turning into one of those things.

“Wednesday?”

Her mother’s voice forced Wednesday to hesitantly lift her head out of her book. It was quite good, she was learning a lot more about Outcast anatomy, but she supposed she could take a break. Her mother was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and an irritating smile on her lips.

“We all seem to have gotten packages from your friend.” There was a ridiculous lilt to her voice when she said the word “friend.” If she knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t pretend to know what you were. “Come into the living room and we can open them.”

Wednesday set her book down and followed her mother, her own thoughts racing. Packages, plural? It must have been part of the nefarious plan you had said your abuelita and Auntie were putting together. A part of her hoped it was a fatal plan; wouldn’t that be exciting? Another part felt like her insides were being dipped in ice cold water at the thought that they had gotten everyone something. What was their game?

The curiosity only grew when she saw that, yes, there was a package for everyone in her family; Lurch and Thing included. They were different sizes and each was wrapped in black paper with a black bow on top. Presents, Wednesday easily deduced, you sent presents.

Wednesday searched for the letter that no doubt accompanied the presents. Her grandmama handed the letter to her without a word, and she instantly opened it. There were more little signatures on the bottom, as well as more professional looking ones. It seemed everyone had signed this one. She started to read it as everyone else opened their presents.

Don’t be mad at me, I didn’t know what their plan was. I don’t even know what they got all of you, the assholes didn’t let me put my name on it. So whatever they got, if it sucks, it’s not my fault.

Anyway, they don’t want anything in return. Abuelita said it was the good thing to do, and Auntie C said if you send ANYTHING back she’s going to find you and make you pay. She’s not as scary as my Momma, but I would still listen to her.

Be careful when you open your package, I think some of the kids tossed stuff in the box too. I know Hailey definitely tossed a bone or two in there, and I think Emily gave you her favourite rock. Just be careful, everything probably shifted around in the mail.

Don’t laugh at me, but I’m kind of excited to get back to school. Weird, I know. I guess I just miss everyone. Not you though, you’re a pain in my ass. But I guess we could get coffee when we get back, you know, as a welcome back treat.

P.S. Check the phone, I sent you a few things.

Wednesday looked around to see what your family had gotten everyone else. Pugsley was holding some new fishing lures and looking at them with furrowed brows, but a smile nonetheless. Her father was marveling at a sword that looked… strikingly new. Dried black flowers in a shadowbox had been her mother’s gift, which she was smiling down at fondly. Then there was what looked to be a personal cookbook for her grandmama, a new black tie for Lurch, and some soap and lotion for Thing.

“Should we have gotten something for her in return?” Pugsley asked, looking around the room.

“No,” Wednesday said as her fingers wrapped around her own present. It stayed unopened. “Her family said there was no need.”

“Then we will at least send a thank you letter,” her mother chimed in. She was still holding the shadowbox close.

Wednesday just nodded once before heading off to her room, ignoring the way her whole family watched her go. It was none of their business what was in the letter or the package. Her fingers peeled the wrapping paper off, being careful not to tear it. It was wrapped beautifully, she would admit, and efficiently; only four pieces of tape were used. She folded the wrapping paper and set it off to the side before finally opening the box.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the rock and bones that you had mentioned in your letter. The rock was painted black with a small smiley face drawn in white paint; they were accompanied by what appeared to be a finger, a shoulder blade, and what looked to be a fang. Then there was a book on medieval torture techniques, and a dagger with a black hilt and a startingly white blade tucked safely into a black scabbard.

Whatever your family’s play was, they were certainly kissing up for something.

She put everything in their own place in her room. There was a place for everything, even your sister’s favourite rock, although Wednesday had no idea why it had been included. Only once everything was where it should be did she finally dig out the phone you had given her.

It took a few minutes to figure out how to use it, but she quickly noticed that you had sent what looked to be some pictures. She flipped through them slowly, taking note of the amount of people in the pictures. There you were helping your sister - Wednesday would never know who was who - on some skis. Then playing a card game with a group of adults; the moonshine on the table was beyond evident. A family photo, candid photos, a few with you just in the background. And in all of the pictures, every single one, your wings were out and you had the biggest smile on your face.

In the privacy of Wednesday’s room, she looked at the pictures and smiled.

Maybe, just maybe, she was willing to admit to herself that she missed you.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #everyone but her au

[gyu-effect]

(tryna do) what lovers do || y.jh

"WE ARE JUST TRYNA DO WHAT LOVERS DO”

PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader

GENRES || Fake Dating AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff, Friends To Lovers AU, Rich Kids AU

SUMMARY || When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then?

Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.

SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age

MUSIC || What Lover Do by Maroon 5 and SZA

WARNINGS || Joshua being a menace to the society, one mention of threesome as a joke (I really tried to keep it sfw but this was inevitable really sorry), drunk Jeonghan, a make out scene, probably very wrong elite party etiquettes (don’t come at me pls), a bit of swearing

WORD COUNT || 15k

A/N || As much as I was dying to write this fic, a lot of times I had to stop it because the flow was so bad. I hope it doesn’t affect the outcome so do tell me what you guys think about it! I would love to hear all of your opinions about it! Also for better understanding, Jeonghan’ suit was the one he wore for Don’t Lie Series Pt.2!

TAGLIST || @fragmentof-indifference @millielovescheol @jkbabiey @kokoiinuts @alyssng​ @cecedrake2217 @dr3aluv5 @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0      [thank you for being interested! if you wanted to be added to the series taglist or my general taglist, send me an ask!]

“Oh my god, why am I even here?” You sobbed to yourself, as you frantically turned the pages of the thick textbook, searching desperately for anything that could help you in your project. Despite being in the library for the past four hours, you had managed to write only two pages of your five page essay. You cursed yourself mentally for picking such a difficult topic in an attempt to be different from others.

“To get your degree and a job that will secure your future?” Seungkwan replied, as though he hadn’t been complaining about his own work a minute ago.

“Thanks. I wasn’t really sure before why I applied for college but now I definitely am.” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you closed your laptop. As the semester was approaching the end, all the project deadlines had clogged up your calendar and you were pathetically struggling to finish everything on time. 

“You did not ask yourself this question when you were at the party yesterday.” He reminded you, causing you to open your eyes and glare at him. 

“I’ve been to a maximum of three parties throughout this entire semester minus our initiation party. How much more do you want me to quit? If I don’t let out my stress in some way or the other I’m going to combust.”

“Lies. You hate these parties and your stress busting mechanism is to go shopping with Kim Yeri.”

You raised your hands in defeat, but still stuck out your tongue at your best friend. Just because he was right didn’t mean you couldn’t complain and whine to him. 

“Speaking of parties,” he continued after shutting his laptop and looking at you, “What are you going to do about the one next week?”

You stared at him.

“Next week? What party?”

“Min Seolah’s party? She sent an invitation to you?” 

“Ah,” you said, vaguely remembering something in your inbox which you might have deleted out of anger at your pending work. “I just won’t go. Where’s it taking place? Her apartment?”

Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to stare at you.

“You didn’t go through the invitation did you?” He glared at you when you smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s an elite party. And you are expected to have an escort. In more polite terms, a date.” 

You felt your smile dip as soon as you heard the word ‘elite’. You absolutely hated these formal parties. More than boring, they were painful beyond words and talking with all the powerful delegates who were usually present there always exhausted you mentally. 

“Can’t I- can’t we excuse ourselves?”

“Our parents will be there.”

That line hit you like a truck and you finally felt the realisation sink in. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Seungkwan. I-I need to pick a dress! And shoes! And-And an escort! Where the hell am I supposed to get a date?” Even Seungkwan didn’t seem to have an answer for this. You continued your rambling as the panic finally settled in properly. “Oh god. How does one, who had next to zero social interactions outside her friend circle, manage to find a date in less than a week? And how are you so calm about this? Do you want to pretend to be each other’s escorts? Everyone knows there’s nothing between us anyways.”

“Er, about that.” Seungkwan began, awkwardly scratching his neck. “I already have a date.”

For the second time that day, Boo Seungkwan had dropped another bomb on you. You closed your mouth that had been hanging open and edged your chair closer to his suspiciously.

“Wait, what? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“It happened just right before I came into the library!” He began, clearly flustered as he was avoiding your gaze and aimlessly flipping the pages of the book in front of him (it was actually your book, a subject he didn’t even have). “Sowon just- just randomly asked whether I wanted to go with her because she thought I was cool and I was so taken aback, I said yes without even thinking-”

“Is that all it takes to ask you out? Just tell you that you are cool?” You asked, leaning back and grinning at your furiously blushing best friend. You had seen Seungkwan embarrassed (and had sometimes even been the cause of it), but to see him this shy because of some girl from economics seemed worthy to make fun of. In the back of your mind, you made a mental note to tell this to Chan. 

“Are you worried about that? Shouldn’t you be worried about your lack of date, instead?” 

“Yeah…But I’ve got to finish this assignment before.” You always had your priorities right, and getting a degree was definitely one of them. “And I’m hungry.”

“It’s almost lunch time. Want to grab something from the canteen?” Seungkwan asked, checking his watch. You nodded and both of you packed up your things, walking out into the sunlight after what felt like an eternity of being in the dark library. 

No sooner had you stepped out of the threshold, you felt a gush of wind from behind you that nearly knocked you over, but Seungkwan wasn’t that lucky. He stumbled onto the ground as that gush of wind (now identified as Kwon Soonyoung) grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. Or rather yanked him up.

“Hey! Do you want to die?” Seungkwan yelled, as you blinked and tried to process what had just happened. Then feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips at the sight of Soonyoung nervously apologising to Seungkwan, you gently patted the latter’s back.

“Are you okay?” You asked, his neck visibly red at the sudden tugging of his shirt collar. 

“I highly doubt you should be smiling while asking me that?”

“I- okay I’m sorry.” By now you were grinning. “Drink some water, you should be fine. And Soonyoung, why the hell did you try to knock us out?”

“I wasn’t trying to! I just wanted to surprise Seungkwan from behind but I guess I ran a bit too fast.”

“A bit?” Seungkwan was still massaging his neck. “I bet you would have told that excuse to the judges for attempted murder after getting arrested because my head got dislocated from my spine.”

“Anyways, what do you think they are serving us for lunch?” Soonyoung asked, hastily changing the subject.

Before you or Seungkwan could reply, all of a sudden you realised you had left your jacket on the chair in the library. “Uh, guys I’ll catch up with you in the mess? I left my jacket behind.”

“You don’t want us to wait for you?” Seungkwan asked but you shook your head in negative.

“It’s fine. But don’t forget to save me a seat or else I’ll steal all your tiger plushies Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung faked a look of horror, pulling Seungkwan and breaking into a run. This earned an eye roll from Seungkwan as he waved you goodbye. Giggling at their retreating figure you went back inside the library. Thankfully, it was still there and slipping into it, you quickly walked out again. 

This time when you walked out, you found yourself staring at the couple underneath the willow tree near the library. It was still full of leaves despite it being almost autumn. It was almost cute to see the couple until you remembered your own position; you had to find a date before the week ended.

The sun glared on you and you instinctively took a step back, immediately colliding with someone. The two of you let out an ‘ah!’ as you stumbled back more before you felt the person’s hands on your shoulder, stabilising you.

“I’m so sorry!” You gushed, turning back to look at the person. You found yourself looking up at Yoon Jeonghan’s equally surprised face as he helped you up. “Jeonghan, shit, I’m so sorry. I should have looked.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Are you okay? Don’t walk backwards like that, you might get hurt. Unless, you have Mad-Eye Moody's eyes.” He joked casually and you smiled sheepishly at him. 

Jeonghan was a good friend of yours; he was in your close friends circle and you thoroughly enjoyed his presence (as long as you weren’t the one getting pranked). He also happened to be smart and handsome, a plus point which made him a campus heartthrob. As you took in his appearance, you noticed he had grown out his hair a bit. A gentle wind blew against the two of you and his hair ruffled slightly, sunlight catching his face as he grinned at you.

And then, it struck you.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, as you stared at him, your mouth slightly open. “Don’t tell me there’s sauce on my face and Joshua didn’t tell me about it.”

That snapped you back to the present and you shook your head. “Er, no. Um, Jeonghan?” 

“Yeah?”

You knew for sure he had been invited to the same upscale party as you, but you had to make sure before asking him.

“You don’t have a significant other, do you? Or maybe a crush?”

Now it was time for him to stare at you.

“Uh…no? Where is this coming from?”

“Then do you want to date me?”

Jeonghan stared at you for a good few seconds, as though trying to find out if you were joking. Immediately you realised how sudden you sounded and quickly corrected yourself, while grabbing his arm to calm him down. “I mean, would you like to be my escort for Min Seolha’s party? That is, if you still don’t have anyone?”

“Oh.” Jeonghan laughed awkwardly, before patting your hand. “But you know, you are supposed to get a potential partner as your escort. I mean…”

His voice trailed off and you dropped your hand, feeling slightly embarrassed. You were a bit disappointed, but you could understand where he was coming from and you definitely did not want to pressurise him.

“Ah, of course I understand! Forget I asked. It’s just that, I don’t have anyone in my mind right now so I thought if anyone who was comfortable with me was willing to go-”

“I’m not uncomfortable with you!” He exclaimed, grabbing your hand. “I just- I just thought maybe you would want to go with someone you like. Or…yeah, damn. You are right. Even I don’t have anyone in mind and I definitely can’t find anyone in a week.”

“If it makes you too uncomfortable going with a friend, we can pretend to be a couple.”

The words were out of your mouth before you even thought about it but it was too late to take it back. Jeonghan looked taken aback and you were going to apologise to him once more but instead he nodded at your plan. 

“Oh yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It won’t even raise any odd questions.” 

You didn’t expect Jeonghan to agree to your plan so quickly, let alone the last part so all you could was a flustered laugh. This earned a soft smile from him as he asked you, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” You lied. “Don’t tell me later on it’s a prank, okay?”

His smile fell a little as he pouted at you, immediately causing you to wince at your words. “Hey, just because I cheat at games doesn’t mean I play with people’s emotions.” 

“I know, I know. I was just joking. You are an angel, Jeonghan.” It was true though. He was a very sweet friend and always took care of those around him. In fact at get-togethers, he was always the one who made sure everyone had enough food. He helped with notes or anything related to studies. You did know that he was a really nice person, except when he was trying to be a menace to the society.

“By the way, do we have any rules or something?” He asked.

“Rules?”

“We need to make this a little believable right? Or else people are going to easily realise that we just agreed to be each other's date because we couldn’t find anyone and honestly, that’s a bit embarrassing.” 

“Yeah.” You scratched your neck, not having thought this far. What he was saying was true, if this plan backfired you both could become a laughing stock and the last thing you need in your already full plate was another lecture from your parents.” “Yeah, I think we do.” 

“Then do you want to have lunch in my room?”

“It’s a good thing you got the dorm closest to the library.” You said sarcastically, as you entered his room and finally caught your breath. You collapsed onto his sofa, mentally cursing the building planner for putting the library near the entrance of the campus and some of the boys’ dormitories at the other end. Jeonghan flopped down beside you, equally out of breath despite doing this for quite some time now. 

“Hey, it could have been worse. I could have got an apartment outside the campus and who knows, we might have still been travelling by bus just to get to my place.”

“That’s true.” You grumbled. “But in that case, we would have just gone to my dorm.” 

“I’ll need a special pass to enter the girls’ dorm.” He groaned. “I wish our college wasn’t so strict for first years. Anyways, we should-”

“Hey, have you seen my shampoo?”

A new voice came into the living room and you turned towards it, just to find yourself staring at a half-naked Hong Joshua, standing in front of the bedroom door with just a towel around his torso. You felt your cheek burn as you took in his dripping torso, muscles flexing with almost the slightest movement. At first he hadn’t noticed you but then his eyes locked with yours, causing you to realise what you were doing.

But before you could even look away, you felt Jeonghan’s hands practically slam into your face, covering your eyes from the (amazing) sight you were staring at.

“Hey!” Jeonghan yelped, his voice an octave higher as he too sounded flustered by this. “Why did you come out without checking if anyone was even there? You heard her voice right?”

“I-I- I did not expect-” Joshua stammered and you interrupted him.

“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, still recovering. “I’m sorry that I looked!”

“Uh, no. I shouldn’t have- I should- Yeah, I should just go. Catch up with you guys later!”

Once you heard the bedroom door slam shut, Jeonghan removed his hand from your eyes. You looked at him and he still seemed shocked, and even a bit embarrassed.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He muttered, clearing his throat as he poured out a cup of water for you. You took the cup from his hand with a small thank you, glad that you had something to cool yourself down.

“No. I’m sorry. I should have immediately looked away.”

“It was sudden.” Jeonghan said, as though understanding you completely. He still seemed unable to meet your eyes, and was busy rearranging the coasters kept on the coffee table in front of you, despite them being already arranged properly. Somehow looking at the Yoon Jeonghan like this set off the devilish side inside you. 

“Does Joshua work out everyday?” You asked casually.

“He does. Not only does he have a gym membership, he also has some stuff in his room.” Jeonghan replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to have regained his composure because he smiled at you and asked, “Why? having second thoughts about me and want to go for Joshua?”

“What?” You spluttered over your water, your time to be taken aback. “I- I would never-”

“Relax, I’m just joking. If you are with him, your ears might drop because of him singing ‘Sunday morning, rain is falling’. Who knows, he probably went back to get showered on because it’s not raining today. It is Sunday, after all.”

You stared at him, trying to make which part was real and which wasn’t. Even though his smile was genuine, you had fallen for his tricks quite a few times and you knew better not to trust that angelic smile. But having a proper one on one conversation with him made you realise how convincing he was.

“Er, let’s go back to why I came here. I think we should make some boundaries so that neither of us are uncomfortable with each other and also some points which might convince people we are dating.”

“Right.” Jeonghan said, magically conjuring up a paper and pen from somewhere. “So first of all, I think we should decide on pet names.”

You paused, trying to think of something plausible for him. For some reason, the very thought of having to call him baby or sweetheart in public was making you cringe (and you were sure he would too) so you thought of something that he won't mind being called and at the same time showed your closeness.

Before you could tell him your thoughts, the bedroom door opened once again and Joshua walked out (this time fully clothed and dry). He pulled a chair and sat himself opposite to both of you, giving you an awkward smile.

“Let me apologise again. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or something.” He said. You shook your head, before giving him your apology too.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stared.” Joshua nodded as though accepting your apology and then pointed at the paper in Jeonghan’s hand. “What are you both up to?”

“We are dating.”

“We are pretending to be a couple”

The two of you said it at the same time, and you felt dumb. You knew Jeonghan and Joshua were best friends but you didn’t expect Jeonghan to tell him this immediately. Letting out an awkward laughter at Joshua, you turned towards Jeonghan who was looking at you surprised.

“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to tell this?” He asked and you quietly grumbled. It wasn’t that you weren’t going to tell Seungkwan either, but you thought maybe it would be after you and Jeonghan had finalised everything and you had sorted your thoughts.

“Er, it’s fine.” You said hastily as Joshua got up to leave. “I think it’s better if you could help us too.” He smiled and sat down, looking excited as though the three of you were planning to pull the greatest prank of all time.

“Joshua’s an expert in this department.” Jeonghan said, and you turned to look at him. His eyes were practically shining as he smiled innocently at his roommate. Looking at him like this, you felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, something infectious about his childishness.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s just exaggerating.” Joshua said, rolling his eyes. “You know how to flirt as much as I do.”

“Then what do you suggest I should call Y/N?”

“To be honest, I think it would be better if you just call her by her name.” Joshua said, actually thinking hard about it. “Your voice kind of goes soft when you are talking to your loved ones though, so maybe try that instead with Y/N’s name.” 

“Hey Joshua. People call you Josh, right?” You asked very seriously, leaning towards him a bit. He nodded and you continued. “Then should I call you Shua?”

“Hey! We are deciding pet names for each other! Not for you and Joshua!” Jeonghan protested, though he was laughing at your seriousness. Joshua laughed too and gave you a thumbs up, causing you to lean back into the couch, satisfied. 

Then turning towards Jeonghan you said, “Do you mind if I call you Hannie?” 

He cocked his head towards the side as his eyes widened a little. But this time he didn’t look surprised, instead he looked genuinely curious as to why you picked that name, silently urging you to go on.

You felt your cheeks tingle with heat a little at the way he was looking at you attentively, so you quickly took a sip of your water before continuing. “Well, like Joshua said you kind of speak softly with people you are very comfortable with. So I felt…Hannie suited you a lot. I think it’s soft enough to suit you.” You said sheepishly.

“I thought you were calling me Shua?” Joshua interrupted, an evil glint in his eyes. You immediately knew he was going to pull your leg so you decided to play along. “I was joking. I use pet names only for my beloved boyfriend.”

You stressed on the ‘beloved boyfriend’ part and looked at Jeonghan. He was busy scribbling something on the paper but when he heard you accentuate that part, he looked up, eyes flicking between you and Joshua as the whole room stared at him. He looked surprised (this seemed to be the only response you could get out of him today) but nonetheless when his eyes landed on yours, he smiled at you softly.

Sunlight glided into the room through their partially open balcony, throwing light on Jeonghan and giving him almost an angelic glow. His eyes curved into half moons as he smiled at you, his long hair falling in front of his eyes a little. For the first time you noticed how delicate his features were, like he was a beautiful statue but carved in glass. 

You felt your heart stutter a little and you frowned. Looking at the glass of water in your hand, you emptied it one go. Maybe you weren’t drinking enough water? It was afternoon and it had been quite some time since you left your dorm.

“Oh, sorry! I promised you lunch right?” Jeonghan exclaimed, thinking you drank all the water because you were hungry. Before you could respond, he had already gotten up, walking towards some sheafs of pamphlets kept on their tv cabinet. “You like braised chicken, don’t you?”

You blinked at him, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“You always order that when we all eat out.” Jeonghan stated causally. He began flipping all the pamphlets, then finding one particular restaurant’s, he took out his phone and dialled the number. Was Jeonghan always this attentive?

“What about you?” You asked Joshua. He got up and sat beside you. “Jeonghan knows what I usually order. So, can I ask you a question?”

Through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan slip into his bedroom. “Sure, go ahead Shua.”

He grinned at you and leaned in closer, until you could smell the faint scent of his soap. You saw his eyes change to seriousness as his voice dropped a little before asking, “Can I ask why are you and Jeonghan doing this?”

“Oh.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you thought he was going to either flirt with you or let you in on a serious secret about Jeonghan but instead he asked this. You laughed awkwardly to cover up your flusteredness. What are you thinking, Y/N? You are with Jeonghan now! This isn’t the time to think about his best friend and roommate! “Ah, it’s just that we need an escort to Min Seolah’s party next week so me and Jeonghan decided to pretend we are a couple just so that we can be each other’s escort.”

“Ah, then were you open to anyone you were comfortable with?”

“Yeah, as long as the other person too was comfortable with it. It kind of just popped out of my mouth, to be honest.”

He scrunched his nose a little, as though regretting something. “I wish I was there instead of Jeonghan then.”

You blinked at his words, trying to process what he had just said. Had the Hong Joshua said he wished it was him in a fake relationship with you? Sure the two of you were friends but still, it did nothing to stop the sudden whooping feeling in your stomach.

“Too bad it was me then.”

You turned to see Jeonghan leaning against his door frame, grinning at the two of you indicating that he was joking. Immediately you felt guilt clutch at your throat. You had roped Yoon Jeonghan into your proposition of dating but here you were now, flirting with his close friend. 

Joshua, on the other hand, seemed unfazed about it. If anything, he looked amused as he leaned back into the couch lazily, studying Jeonghan’s expression.

“Anyways, they’ll deliver in half an hour's time. Come on, Y/N. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“What else?” He was suddenly so serious that you were taken aback slightly. 

“We need to talk about physical touch and kissing too, of course.”

“Kissing?!” 

“So did you two discuss about kissing?” Kim Yeri, your roommate, asked as you threw your face into your pillow to muffle your scream.

“No, I ran out of there before we even got started on that topic. Talking about physical touch itself was so embarrassing, I thought I would die if we started talking about kissing. He’s so serious about it. Why did I even suggest such a thing?” 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, bestie.” Yeri said comfortingly, patting your back.

“I mean, he’s so nice to me. I feel like…I feel like I’m using him or something.”

“Then don’t use him. Use this opportunity to…ah, you know, get a boyfriend.” You glared at the girl sitting on your bed and she winked at you, causing you to get up and smack her lightly with a pillow.

“No way! This is just an act! How shallow am I to fall for a man who agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Yeri shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Happens all the time in movies. Besides, Yoon Jeonghan isn’t that bad, is he? He’s funny, friendly, handsome and smart. He’s so fucking pretty too. Everyone loves his jokes and pranks.”

“Yeah, as long as you aren’t the one getting pranked.” You muttered, eyes darting to your phone. He had told you to message him once you reached and you had done, but he still hadn’t even read it yet. You mulled Yeri’s thoughts in your head. She was right, Jeonghan was pretty. You had always known that but somehow seeing him against the sunlight made you see him in a different light. Quite Literally. 

“So when’s your next date?”

“It’s not a date…” You began, but stopped when Yeri raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine, we are just going shopping to buy some ‘couple’ things.”

“Sounds like a rather cute date to me.”

“Yeri!”

How the rest of the evening and the next day passed by quickly was shocking to you (you wished time passed this quickly during statistics class but no, time and you had to have a beef with time). You had let Seungkwan into your plan and he had also sworn that he wouldn’t tell it to anyone, even if he was being threatened with not being able to drink iced americano for an entire year (a threat you were highly tempted to try out but alas, you loved your best friend too much). But he was a committed best friend. Seungkwan had even written down some points to make your relationship more realistic and you had hastily stuffed it down your coat’s pocket, so that you could show it to Jeonghan later on.

Very soon, you found yourself and Jeonghan seated on the sofa of the high end boutique near to your college, waiting for the attendants to attend to you both. You were a regular customer here due to your trips with Yeri and even sometimes with Seungkwan, so the shop assistant knew you from before. They had greeted you with their usual friendly smile they always gave you, until their eyes landed on Jeonghan, travelling down to your entwined hands.

Jeonghan had insisted that the two of you hold hands when you enter the shop, saying that it would be a practice. At first you were a bit uncertain, but then he reminded you that it was ideal for your boyfriend to take you shopping, and that shop assistants did not gossip much. You were still not sure about it but nonetheless slipped your hand in his.

His bony fingers grasped your gently as he gave you a smile, pulling you into the boutique with him. Despite his hand being cold, you felt your fingers tingle underneath his touch, a sensation you kept feeling even after he had let go of your hand. 

The attendants looked a bit too elated as they ushered you and Jeonghan into a room, telling they’ll be right back to attend the two of you.

Presently, Jeonghan was bobbing his legs beside you, both of your knees brushing against each other slightly. He seemed unfazed by this and so should have been you, but for some reason this made you hyper aware of your both’s closeness. You could smell his cologne, making you realise you had never really gone shopping with another man who wasn’t, well, Seungkwan. 

It also made you wonder whether he had done this before with someone else. He looked so experienced, the way he just casually checked over some of the items displayed, as though he had a habit of buying what caught his eyes for his significant other.

“Have you done this before?” You asked, and he looked at you confused, blinking as though asking you to elaborate. “I mean,” you said after clearing your throat. For some reason you were feeling very awkward asking him this, almost feeling the heat tingle on your cheeks. “Have you gone on a date to the boutique to buy couple clothes?” 

“Ah, no. This is my first time actually.” He said with a soft smile. You felt relief settle in you as you automatically smiled back at him, before catching yourself. What are you doing? You screamed internally, wondering why Jeonghan was so soft with you. 

You realised that the way he smiled and the way he talked to you had always given you this mad urge to melt right then and there in front of him, as though you just couldn't bring yourself to be harsh with him. True, you had yelled at him a few times for cheating (quite blatantly at that) while playing games but it had always ended in laughter and giggles, as though you couldn’t stay angry at him for long.

He gave you the urge to stare at him for hours, studying and etching his features into your brain forever, as though he was a piece you would have to sculpt later on. It amazed you that no matter how many times you looked at him, you always found him beautiful as though it was the first time you had laid your eyes on him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the shop assistant, asking what the two of you would like.

“Can we get clothes which complement each other? Like even subtly is fine for us.” Jeonghan asked.

Hell, he even had an amazing voice. He was so well mannered that you were sure if you had met Jeonghan at one of your parent’s parties instead, you would have fallen heads over heels with him. 

“Not matching couple clothes?”

“No. Something which complements each other would be better. What do you think, Y/N?”

To be honest, you thought that was a genius idea. In that way, you could even wear the dress after your ‘breakup’, without making things awkward. Leave it to Yoon Jeonghan to sort out everything just perfectly. 

“Yeah, I think that is a brilliant idea too. Oh, we also need to pick your suit and my dress for the party.” You reminded him.

“Do you want to choose for each other?”

“What?” The question had completely caught you off guard. Wasn’t picking dresses for each other something couples did? You both really didn’t need to act as a couple too much here, so why was he suggesting it?

“We don’t have to do it, if you are feeling awkward about it.” He said gently. If Yoon Jeonghan treated you sweetly one more time, you were sure you would start smiling at him like a fool constantly. Then his eyes lit up mischievously and he leaned in, as though about to tell you his biggest secret. “But I do have a great fashion choice.”

You let out a laugh at this, amused that that was what he had wanted to say. Smiling at him you shook your head, indicating that he could choose for you.

“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, looking at dresses hanging on the hangers being rolled in front of the two of you. 

“I like pink. Or any light shade, actually.” 

“Then how’s this one?” He pointed at one of the pink gowns that had caught your eyes previously, and you nodded eagerly at him.

“I’ll try that out!” You said as you walked into the changing room, glad that both of your tastes had aligned well. Once you were done you stepped out, clearing your throat to get Jeonghan’s attention, who was busy on his phone. He looked up and froze for a second, before his eyes darted all over your figure, checking you out with his mouth slightly open.

You felt your cheeks flush at the way he was looking at you, the way he swallowed and then smiled at you gently. Your stomach fluttered at his action, unable to stop yourself from mirroring his smile. Jeonghan got up and walked over to you, grinning at you as he cocked his head towards the side slightly.

And for some reason, that action made you feel even more giddy.

“How do I look?” You asked, sounding breathless for some reason. Embarrassed, you tried to cover it up by pretending to be excited, and twirling in front of the mirror once to see for yourself.

“You look amazing. Like really, really beautiful.”

He sounded really genuine and you beamed at him, equally happy that both of you chose a dress that suited you very well. You had been called beautiful many times, mostly by men trying to flatter you or your father, but something about the way Jeonghan said it made you shy.

“Should we choose one for you?” You asked once you came back from the changing room, eyeing all the tuxedos that had been brought in now. Jeonghan nodded and you walked over to the rack, searching for one that would bring out his delicate features more beautifully.

“How about this one?” You asked, pointing at a white coloured one. It looked like a conductor’s tuxedo and you felt that it would really go well with his long hair. He nodded and went inside the changing room, while you sat down on the couch, waiting for him to return.

“Y/N?” Someone softly called you, and you looked up to see Jeonghan smiling at you, all dressed up in the outfit you had picked for him. He was just smiling, an expression he gave you quite often and honestly it shouldn’t have had much effect on you, it really shouldn’t. You should have just smiled back, complimented him, paid for your stuff and gone out to eat a round of ice cream that you had promised him.

But instead, it had a great effect on you.

Just Yoon Jeonghan standing there and smiling at you had a huge effect on you. It made time slow down as you felt your heart hammer loudly in your chest, squeezing painfully every now and then. If you hadn't been sitting down your knees might have given away, breath gone for a second as you admired for the millionth time how beautiful he was. 

Because he really was. He looked so handsome, so pretty and so- every adjective that you could think of but couldn’t really because of how goddamned ethereal he looked right now. It was like the suit was tailor made for just him. He looked like a prince straight out from your dreams and it took you all your willpower to stop fluttering in your heart.

Realising you were staring at him for too long, you looked away immediately, releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Your cheeks burned in shame at the effect he had on you, despite it being just the second time you had hung out with him after deciding to fake your relationship. 

You had known him for quite some time, it wasn’t like the two of you had become friends just yesterday. 

And yet, you felt like you were ‘rediscovering’ Jeonghan. Like his smile for example. Even though you knew he was pretty, nothing prepared you ever for the sudden flutters in your heart everytime he smiled at you. Or the way he smelled a bit too good, when he had come to pick you up earlier, like he had just stepped out of the shower.

“Y/N?” Jeonghan called you, jostling back to the present. His usual angelic smile was now replaced by a smirk, and you groaned internally and cursed yourself for digging up your own grave. Why did you have to stare at him like that? “Do I look so good that I left you speechless?”

“Shut up, Yoon. You look fine.” You emphasised on the ‘fine’, rolling your eyes so that he got your message but that just caused him to grin at you more.

Nope. Nope. There was no way you were developing feelings for Yoon Jeonghan. Definitely not after you knew how sinister he was and definitely not after you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. You didn’t want to inflate his ego by making him think that he could make you fall for him by just literally breathing, all the while he played the act of being your fake date.

Slowly you got up from your seat and walked past him casually, letting the shop owner know that you were ready to pay. 

You were determined to not let Jeonghan’s presence shake you. It’s just for a week, Y/N. After that the two of you can just go back to being friends and this stupid crush you might be developing will go away.

What you didn’t though, was that you were bad at predicting the future. Vey, very bad.

“Hey, I think both Joshua and Jeonghan have a thing for you. Ever considered being in a poly relationship?” Seungkwan whispered into your ears not-so-subtly.

You glared at him for this scandalous comment before quickly glancing at Jeonghan and Joshua sitting opposite to the two of you. Luckily, they both were busy with their midterm project and were discussing something while comparing notes on their laptops.

The promised ice cream ‘date’ of three days ago had to be cancelled because it had begun raining all of a sudden and neither of you wanted to get wetter than what you were when you ran into the bus stand. So you had promised to take him to the little cafe inside your campus instead, and Joshua and Seungkwan decided to tag along to act as ‘chaperones’, though you weren’t sure what they were chaperoning because both you and Jeonghan had lots of assignments left and had been planning to do your own work.

“Shut up, Boo!” You hissed, never wanting to murder your best friend more than right now. “What if they heard you?”

“What about it? Both of them know that everyone wants to have a threesome with them.”

“Have a threesome with whom?”

You turned to Joshua in horror, feeling embarrassment creep into your cheeks as he eagerly looked between the two of you. Jeonghan on the other hand looked surprised, as though not even sure what the conversation was about.

“Have a threesome with whom? Us?” Joshua asked again, his smile a bit too excited for his own good. You thought he would be uncomfortable with it but instead he looked excited about this conversation, causing you to groan as you buried your face in your hand.

“Stop acting like you don’t know! Don’t rub it on me that the two of you are more handsome than me!” Seungkwan sulked, giving his signature side eye to Joshua. But that just caused Joshua to smile more brightly at him, as though Seungkwan’s misery was his pleasure (which it probably was).

“I’m not rubbing it on you! I might be handsome but there’s no one cuter than you, Seungkwan. Right, Y/N?” You faked a look of disgust and pretended to puke over your drink. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were even willing a fight a lion if it disagreed that your best friend was adorable and handsome (you dearly hoped it wouldn’t come down to that situation. The last time all of you went to the zoo, Minghao and Jihoon nearly pushed Soonyoung into the tiger’s den for claiming to be one so you learnt that whatever you told, your friends would try their level best to make it come true).

“Are you two flirting? Is this a double date?” Jeonghan asked, head turning between Joshua and Seungkwan as though he was watching a tennis match. 

“No way, I’m only going to date the person who calls me Shua, no one else.” 

Your eyes widened at his statement and you gulped in a huge amount of your drink, causing you to choke and violently cough. While Seungkwan and Joshua just laughed at you (you were literally dying and of course that would be the immediate response of the people you called friends), Jeonghan looked worriedly at you and reached out to gently pat your hand. You felt your breathing slowly ease down due to his action, and he grabbed your hand in his to gently rub circles with his thumb.

It was a rather small act from a friend who just cared about you. Nothing romantic or intimate at all, and yet you felt a warm fuzzy feeling grow at your heart. He smiled at you gently when you had completely stopped coughing, pouring a cup of water and handing it to you.

You were grateful for the drink and you took in a sip cautiously, your mind still wandering to the now disappearing feeling in your chest. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the waitress who came to your table, and you recognised her as someone you might have seen talking to your Applied Physics - I professor. She gave you, Seungkwan and Joshua a half-assed smile, but when her eyes landed on Jeonghan, she smiled at him in the most glamorous way ever.

“So what can I get you guys now?” She asked. Miyeon, as her name tag stated, was clearly talking to the entire table yet her eyes were trained only on Jeonghan. You saw him return her smile politely, and you felt your insides churn a little.

Because it was the same smile he always gave you. The same goddamn smile that had you feeling that you were on cloud nine, that made you shy and that same smile that made you feel special.

So he wasn’t doing it just for you? 

You never thought you would ever be jealous over something this trivial. You didn’t even like him in that way and yet, you could almost feel the disappointment clutching at your heart almost a bit too tightly.

It then hit you that the only expression Jeonghan had given you so far was either his look of surprise or a smile, but nothing more than that. Whenever he was hanging out with the entire gang or even now when it was just Joshua, you and Seungkwan, he had been laughing and cracking lots of jokes. But when he was with you all alone, all he did was smile and give you compliments, as though the two of you had just met due to a blind date set up by your parents. 

Did you make Jeonghan that uncomfortable? Was he too nice to say no to your idea back then?

But the Jeonghan you knew wasn’t a pushover, so he must have thought about it a bit before agreeing, right? You are just overthinking everything. You chided yourself. 

Your further thoughts were all stopped when you noticed everyone at the table staring at you. 

“Your order?” Miyeon asked, annoyance evident in her voice.

“Er, I would like to have your Special Strawberry Jam Sandwich. And another cup of coffee please.”

“Got it.” Then turning back towards Jeonghan, she said, “So that’s your order too? Not your regular?”

Jeonghan nodded as the word regular whirled in your brain. He visited this cafe often? Had he- had he lied to you then?

The rest of the meal passed by in a blur, with the three boys doing the most of the talking. You joined in once or twice but mostly stayed to yourself, contemplating hard on what to do next.

It wasn’t that you were crushing on Jeonghan and that was making you sad. It was more like you didn’t want him to feel extremely uncomfortable around you, seeing how he had clearly lied to you about the cafe and treated you just the way he treated any other person on the street.

Soon it was time to leave and the four of you walked out of the cafe. But before you could part ways with the boys, Jeonghan grabbed your arm and stopped you.

“I want to talk to you.” He said and you nodded, realising that it would be better if even you got all your questions cleared up. Through the corner of your eyes you saw Seungkwan take out his phone and hastily type down something, and felt your phone vibrate almost immediately after he hit the send button.

Taking out your phone you checked his message, feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips. 

[uriboo]: if yoon jeonghan tries anything funny, just send sos. no matter where i am, i’ll kick his ass using my special kick reserved for soonyoung only.

You gave him a thumbs up and waved him goodbye, watching Joshua and Seungkwan’s retreating figures disappear round the corner. It was almost evening by now and the sky had turned a light shade of orangish pink. You stared it for some time until you felt Jeonghan tug you once more.

“Come on. Let’s talk there.” He asked, pointing at one of the benches farther away from the walking path. “No one will hear us there.” You nodded and followed him, sitting down beside him. A few moments passed as the two of you just watched students walk by, neither of you taking the lead to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked after some time, and you turned to look at him dryly.

“I’m…fine. Okay, I guess. Just a bit tired.”

“No…what’s wrong? Did someone say something? Did I hurt you?”

There he went again.

You turned to glare at him but the look of concern on his face was enough to stop you. He looked really worried for you, and even reached out to grab your hand and give it a squeeze. You gulped to stop the way your heart fluttered at his actions, reminding yourself of what you had to ask him.

“Why…why did you lie to me?” You asked, swallowing thickly once more so that you didn’t sound hurt. But your voice still sounded strangled, and if Jeonghan had noticed it, he didn’t show it.

“Are you talking about the cafe?” He asked gently, and you nodded slowly.

“When I said I would take you out to a new place and mentioned its name too, you didn’t tell me you already went there. The waitress mentioned that you were a regular there!” It almost sounded like you were whining by this point.

Jeonghan blinked at you once, twice and then burst out laughing. “Is that what is bothering you?”

Pulling your hand away from his, you swatted his arm lightly, feeling hurt at his reaction. “It’s not funny! I literally gushed to you about the strawberry sandwich, saying that if you tried it you would forget every other sandwich when you had probably tried it a million times before. Do you know how embarrassing it is? It's so embarrassing that I bragged about something you already knew, it makes me look like a show off.”

“Ah, but I had never actually tried the strawberry sandwich before.” He said, taking your hand in his again. “I really had never tried it before, which is why I didn’t say anything. Besides, you looked so cute when you were talking about the cafe and I really didn’t want you to stop.”

You froze a little, taken aback by his last statement. Quickly, you tried to change the subject, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden heat forming on your cheeks.

“I-I- Okay. I-I have a few more questions to ask, if you don’t mind. Or…you can go first about whatever you wanted to talk about.”

“Go ahead. I finished asking mine. I just wanted to know what’s wrong with you.” 

“Oh.” So it was the typical Jeonghan-cares-for-you question. “Er, are you and the waitress close? Um, what’s her name? Miyeon?”

“Not that close.” He replied nonchalantly. “She had helped me with some physics homework once, that’s all. And oh, also because I visit the cafe regularly.”

“I think she likes you.”

“Yeah me too.” He smirked when you stared at him. “Jealous?”

“Jealous of whom? You?” You countered back, keeping your expression as neutral as you could. You weren’t, couldn’t be jealous and you weren’t going to show him that you were either. He laughed at your comeback and you felt yourself smile, feeling pleased that he had enjoyed your retort. 

“Point. Miyeon is pretty. But just so you know, she had asked me today whether I could hang out with her sometime later.”

“When did this happen? What did you say?” Even though you knew Jeonghan probably said yes, you still wanted to hear the answer from him.

“I said you were my girlfriend, what else? It happened when you had gone to the bathroom and she got the bill to the table. She then even asked why were you sitting beside Seungkwan if you were my girlfriend.”

“And what did you guys say then?”

“Seungkwan said ‘bros before hoes’.”

You rolled your eyes, questioning yourself why you even thought your best friend might have given a smart answer. “Of course he did. Can I ask you one more question?”

“You are asking an awful lot of questions, aren’t you?” He smiled at you, his eyes glinting in a teasing manner.

“It’s the last one! Please, Hannie?”

It was the first time you were using the nickname and you could swear you saw him tense for a fraction of a second. Then it was gone as soon as it had come. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, indicating you to go. You had almost forgotten that the two of you were still holding hands, and this squeeze seemed to suddenly liven the atmosphere around the two of you, as though reminding you of his presence.

“Do you…find it uncomfortable to be with me?”

His smile faltered, clearly caught off guard by your question.

“I mean, do I make you feel uncomfortable? Like…did you say yes to being my boyfriend just because you didn’t want to refuse me and make me feel bad or-”

“Why would I do that? Shit, do I act like that around you? You aren’t someone new Y/N. You have been my friend for quite some time. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you? And I didn’t say yes because I felt bad for you. We both needed escorts and that’s why I said yes.”

“Then why do you act so differently when you are around me?” You asked, releasing your hand from his grasp. “Like, like you always look like you are enjoying yourself when we are with our friends but whenever it's just the two of us, you act just so sweet and nice. That’s about it. Just- just sweet and nice. Like how you are to Miyeon.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, as though thinking before answering your question.

“It’s not that I don’t like you Y/N. And I definitely didn’t say yes because I thought you were pathetic or something. Really. It’s just that…I don’t know how this works either.”

“How does what work?” You asked, your voice much softer than you expected. Jeonghan leaned in to you a bit closer, and for the first time you saw him beyond the smiles and jokes he made. He looked tired, really tired as though this act was wearing him out too.

“I-I’m not sure what kind of boyfriend you want. I’m not sure whether I should treat you like a friend and crack jokes about the most useless thing or treat you like a princess like your boyfriend probably would. I don’t know how much to step out of the line of being friends. I don’t know what is the line that oversteps from fake boyfriend to real boyfriend. I…just don’t know what to do most of the time.”

This time, you took his hand in yours, giving them a gentle squeeze. He looked up at you and you smiled softly at him, trying to ease down all the pressure he had been feeling for the past few days. 

You were such an idiot. How could you expect him to act normally when you had just dumped a huge burden over his shoulder?

“Jeonghan…it’s okay. You are doing great, you know that? And sometimes, when I look at you, I wish I could be more like you. You don’t need to treat me as your girlfriend, really. Like I said, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Just treat me as a friend, okay? And if you ever want to stop, just tell me. I’ll always be there for you.”

He gulped and nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact even once. Your heart gave a painful squeeze when he still didn’t look away, all of a sudden feeling that your entire surrounding had melted away.

You could only feel his soft gaze on you, almost feeling raw and exposed and yet, even you couldn’t look away.

“I would never leave you.” Jeonghan whispered, almost mumbling as he finally tore away his gaze. 

“Why? Is this arrangement proving to be useful to you too?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah it did help me escape from Miyeon.”

“So I’m your scapegoat now?” You asked scandalously, letting go of your hands so that you could grab him by the shoulder and glare properly. He grinned at you, back to his playful nature. You felt your heart swell by the way he giggled, the infectious laughter causing you to smile too despite trying to sound mad at him.

“Hey, aren’t friends supposed to protect each other like that?”

“Not- not- I- okay whatever!”

“Er, do you see Seungkwan?” You asked Yeri, eyes scanning the crowd for your best friend. The loud noise from the booming speaker was making it almost impossible to hear your roommate, so you turned to her, only to find yourself standing alone in a crowd of drunk bodies. You groaned internally as Yeri was your designated driver today, and you prayed that wherever she went, she wouldn't end up drunk like she had last time.

Byun Baekhyun, a senior known for his loudness and great ambition to wreck chaos wherever he went had decided to throw a party for the first years as a celebration for completing the first term without losing their sanity (which was clearly a lie; you were close to losing your mind). 

“How am I supposed to find anyone- Hey! Yuna!” Grabbing the hands of the said girl, you felt familiarity rush in when she turned to you and gave you a smile.

“Hey, Y/N. You look great. Dressed up for someone special?”

“As if. Have you seen Seungkwan anywhere? I just can’t find him.”

At this she snickered. “Seungkwan? Are you sure you are searching for him?”

You frowned at her. When she saw that you didn’t understand what she was indicating, she smiled at you and beckoned you to come closer. “Are you sure,” she whispered in your ear, the slight smell of alcohol wafting to your nose, “you aren’t looking for Jeonghan?”

You drew back from her sharply, all of a sudden feeling hot. How does she know? Does word travel that fast? Of course it does. When Yuna saw that you didn’t say anything, she let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before pointing at the corner.

Giving her a tight lipped smile, you followed the direction of her finger though you weren’t really sure whether she had pointed to Seungkwan or Jeonghan.

“Thank god!” You exhaled, when you saw Seungkwan and Chan sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, and you quickly slipped in between them. 

“Thank God for what?” Seungkwan asked.

“Nothing. Yuna’s drunk. Where are the others?” You asked, taking a sip of the solo cup Seungkwan had just handed you. You found it odd that it was just Seungkwan, Chan and you here because usually your entire gang of friends used to stick together to have fun at parties.

“Ah, that.” Chan snickered. “Your boyfriend might or might not have caused a little bit of a problem.”

“What? What happened?” You asked, turning your head to look at Seungkwan and Chan alternatively. To say you weren’t concerned would be a lie. And it was definitely not because Jeonghan was your faux boyfriend.

“Er, so Jeonghan might or might not have got his toy sword and wooden hammer with him to the party-” Seungkwan began.

“He got what?”

“You know, his toy sword-”

“I knew about his toy sword but not his wooden hammer.”

“It's for self defence against bad guys at night, apparently.” Chan added, causing you to groan. 

“What happened then?”

“I think someone made some comment about you and he decided as your boyfriend, mind you the entire college knows now, he had to defend your honour. He even gave the opponent his wooden hammer because he wasn’t armed.” Seungkwan finished, calmingly taking a sip of his drink like it was completely natural for Jeonghan to fight for your honour.

You looked at Chan incredulously and he too had the same expression. “He’s joking right?”

“Jeonghan was drunk. Like really, really drunk when it started.”

“How did he get this drunk so quickly?”

“Sweetheart, the party started an hour ago. Not everyone remembers their incomplete inorganic homework five minutes before leaving.” Seungkwan stated, causing you to glare at him.

“So where are the others?”

“Well, the challenge was made just before you came and Jeonghan went upstairs to ‘duel’. Seungcheol, Mingyu, Minghao and  Seokmin followed him upstairs to stop him while the rest followed him to egg on him.”

Chan got up, followed by you and Seungkwan. “We were just waiting for you. I bet your lover boy is dying to see your face.”

“Shut up Chan.” Your face was practically burning by now. But this was what you had wanted, right? To make everyone think you both were a couple? “Please tell me we are going upstairs so that both of you can join the team that stops him and not eggs on him?”

Seungkwan gave you a dirty look. “How low do you think we are? Of course we are going to egg him on.”

“Fucking hate you all.”

Luckily, upstairs wasn’t that crowded but it still took the three of you some pushing around to reach the centre. The scene that met your eyes nearly turned you blood cold. The other guy, you recognised him as a senior from your major, had Jeonghan on his knees as he gripped his shirt collar. He was yelling profanities at Jeonghan, but he was too out to even listen to him. You saw that his lip had split open and his right eye looked bruised.

“Why aren't you stopping him?” You hissed to Seungcheol. You noticed that even though all your friends were there, none of them were cheering for the fight to continue. In fact, they all looked scared now

.

“We can’t. He’s a senior and he said- he said if we stop him then he’s going to hurt Jeonghan more!” Seungcheol himself looked terrified and you gritted your teeth angrily. It was true. If a senior ragged you, there was nothing you could do except accept your fate.

You heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh; loud, and both you and Seungcheol turned to see Jeonghan on the floor, the senior’s hand balled in a fist. At that moment, something snapped inside you and you found yourself walking towards him.

“Y/N, wait-” Seungkwan began worriedly but it was too late. Everything happened so fast but all you vaguely remembered was yanking the senior by hair and landing a slap on his cheeks. Since he was drunk that slap was enough to cause him to lose his balance, and you just shoved him into the ground.

Turning around, you picked up Jeonghan’s sword and hammer before turning to the groaning boy. Gently tugging one arm over your shoulder, you tried pulling him up. It was a bit hard, considering he was drunk and hurt and using you completely as support, but then his weight lightened on you and you turned to see Joshua slinging his other arm around his neck.

“Let me help you.” He muttered. The crowd parted away easily and before you knew it, the three of you were outside. It was a bit hard dragging Jeonghan all the way to the dorm and the only reason you managed to do it was because Joshua was bearing his maximum weight. 

Finally, you reached their room and pulled Jeonghan onto his bed. The two of you sat down beside him, trying to catch your breaths. Glancing at Jeonghan’s resting figure, you felt your heart clench painfully. 

Moonlight streamed into the room, lighting up his face in an almost angelic glow and yet the blows he had received were painfully visible.

“Thank you.” You heard Joshua mutter, and you looked up at him. He too was looking at Jeonghan sadly, as though he had been punched too. Then he looked at you and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you for stepping up.”

“It’s nothing.” You huffed. “I just did what I had to do for a friend. I’m not blaming you guys though!”

“Still. It was a really brave thing to do. But are you sure about that?”

“About what?”

Joshua leaned in until your faces were just a few inches apart. You tried backing away but the headboard hit you and you were left with no space to move. He smirked at you before speaking. 

“Are you sure about Jeonghan being, you know, just a friend?”

You stared at him with your mouth slightly open, slowly thinking of what he had said.

Jeonghan was a friend, right? You had come in terms with him a few days ago and had convinced yourself that he was a friend. You would step into a fight for any of your friends, right?

A groan from beside you interrupted your thoughts and both of you turned to see Jeonghan staring at you with half opened eyes. 

“Y/N.” He whispered your name with a small smile, wincing almost immediately when the cut on his lips stung. His eyes travelled along your body before it landed on Joshua. He frowned at the said man, as though trying to comprehend something.

“Joshua.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

He blinked several times before staring at something between the two of you. Then he tried getting up by propping up his elbows which gave away immediately, causing his head to land on your lap instead. You stiffened at the closeness but figured he was too drunk and hurt to even overthink this situation.

“Why are you two always so close? Everytime I’m gone, the two of you are almost always together.” He sounded almost hurt. You tried making sense of what he meant by that but Joshua just laughed.

Getting up, he said, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. If he tries something, call me. I’ll be in my bedroom. Oh also, try thinking about what I told you before.” Giving you a wink, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“What did he tell you?” Jeonghan asked, turning on your lap so that he was facing you now. His hair was sticking to his forehead due to the sweat, the jet black colour appearing almost dark blue under the moonlight. You hissed when you saw his wounds up close, gently brushing his hair away from his face.

He caught your wrist as his eyes fluttered open, staring at you before repeating his question. “What did Joshua tell?”

“Nothing, you idiot. Jeonghan, why the hell did you get into a fight? Do you know where you keep your medicines? I’ll get them-”

“No.” His grip on your hand tightened as he brought it over his chest, clasping it with his both hands now. “He made fun of you.”

Maybe it was the way he said it with so much hurt in his voice or maybe it was the way he looked like a prince underneath the moonlight, but you felt your breath catch your throat. Your heart gave a painful squeeze and then stuttered, as you watched his gentle features stare back at you softly.

It felt like time had stopped as you stared at Yoon Jeonghan lying on your lap, realising how beautiful he was. And no, it wasn’t like the other times you had realised it. This time, it felt painful, as though he had sucked out all your breath and had caused your heart to swell with this overwhelming emotion. 

It made you feel good, and you felt yourself craving for that feeling more.

“That doesn’t mean you’ll get into a fight with everyone. Look how hurt you are, Hannie.” You whispered softly. To be honest you weren’t sure why you were whispering, but as you gently stroked his hair with your free hand, it felt right talking to him softly.

He let out a harsh breath as he slowly raised on hand towards your face, causing you to freeze. You felt his fingers ghost your lips, and you almost leaned in to feel his touch. You felt your stomach lurch when your eyes met his, that feeling in your heart growing stronger as he refused to touch you yet.

“Love it when you call me that.” His voice had dropped an octave, and you nearly let out a squeak at his sudden sultry voice. Finally, you felt his long slender fingers grasp at your chin and his thumb brushed against your lips, giving you the contact your body was almost burning for. Your eyes fluttered close as he gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Love it so much I would give up ‘most everything to get you to call me that.”

You are drunk. He’s even more drunk. What do you think you are doing?

Your eyes snapped open at that realisation and you jerked away from his touch, his hand just falling limply to his side.

“We are drunk, Han- Jeonghan. We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t be doing this to you.” You told him as softly as you could, gently sliding his head off your lap onto the pillow. He had fallen asleep and now the only sound in the room that could be heard was his breathing; and the abnormally loud hammering of your heart. 

Slowly, you covered him with his blanket and kept his toy sword and hammer beside him before you snuck out of his room. Then closing the door behind you, you rested your back against it, taking a moment to catch your breath and calm down your racing heart.

If you weren’t sure about it before, you definitely were now. It was glaringly obvious to you, no matter how much you tried to push your feelings away.

You were in love with Yoon Jeonghan. 

It’s fine. You thought to yourself. I just need to pretend I don’t have feelings for him until tomorrow. Once we go about our own ways, I can bawl my eyes out to Seungkwan.

“Miss?” The maid asked cautiously, and you looked at her annoyed, silently asking her to go on. “Your escort, Mr. Yoon, is here.” 

Wordlessly you got up, glancing at the mirror one last time to check your gloves and hair. Annoyance creeped into your features when you realised it didn’t even matter actually. Then you walked out of your house, making sure you shut the door behind you with a bang.

Walking out into the garden of your parent’s manor, you saw Jeonghan waiting for you, leaning against the limousine. His face broke into a grin when he saw you approaching, but it faltered when he realised you weren’t exactly smiling back at him.

“Hey.” He said, as he opened the door for you to enter.

“Hi.” You said curtly, bunching up your gown in the most careless manner and getting in the car, shutting the door before he could. He wordlessly got in through the other side, indicating the chauffeur to start.

A few minutes of silence passed before he spoke.

“Is…something wrong?”

You turned to glare at him, expecting him to look annoyed at your annoying attitude. Or even confused. But instead, he looked concerned.

Immediately you felt bad at being angry at him for something he didn’t even do. 

No. It wasn’t that you felt bad, it was more like his worried look had thrown you off your anger, feeling tears sting your eyes instead now.

“You can tell me about it. Or you don’t have to. But I’m all ears, anytime you need me.” Gently, he took your hands in his and gave it a squeeze, smiling at you softly. 

“I- Just- You look good today.” You choked out, trying to change the subject without looking too pathetic in front of him. How down bad were you for him that one worried glance caused you to break the dam of emotion that had been building up since morning.

But it was true. He did look good. The suit made him look more ethereal, and it did nothing to stop your heart from accelerating at that speed. 

His lips pulled into a smile, You noticed that his lips had almost healed, and the cut couldn’t really be seen unless you stared at it (which you definitely weren’t; because why would you stare at him?) 

“What can I say? I’m so pretty that I look good at everything.”

“Or I have a great choice of clothing.”

Jeonghan laughed and counter argued, but you were too busy staring at the way he laughed to listen to his banter. The way he displayed his teeth every time he smiled and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner when he laughed seemed to be pulling at your heartstrings. And the fact that he was gently rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb, sending electricity through your arm.

“I could help lighten whatever’s causing a frown on that pretty face of yours.”

His flirty comment brought you back to the present, quickly turning your head away to stare at the buildings speeding past the two of you instead. You felt the bitterness come back but it was much less than before as Jeonghan had helped you feel much light hearted.

“You’ll see once you reach there.” You muttered, and through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan nod. The car came to a halt in front of a mansion, indicating that you had arrived at your destination.

“Y/N this is your last chance.” Jeonghan said. You blinked at him in confusion. “This is your last chance to change your partner to Joshua.”

Suppressing the laughter threatening to escape from you, you pretended to think. “Well…so far it’s still a no. But if I see Shua looks more handsome than you…then well, I can’t guarantee you I’ll be sleeping with you tonight.”

There was a rule of elite parties that required couples to sleep in for the night, which was why you had wanted to choose a familiar face in the first place.

Jeonghan pouted at you and you laughed, but immediately caught yourself when you felt your heart flutter. You couldn’t let this feeling grow. The two of you were just actors in a play and actors could never fall in love with each other.

Two of you walked over to your assigned room and only then did you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You had met just a few people on your way here and the two of you had responded to all of them with small smiles, and you were greatly aware of Jeonghan’s arm around your waist.

“What do you want to do now?” Jeonghan, already lying down on the double bed. You narrowed your eyes as he kicked off his shoes and wrapped the blanket around himself. “What?” He asked when he saw you. “I’m tired, okay? Just wake me up half an hour before the party starts so that I can look a bit more presentable.”

“Okay? I, uh, I’m just going to look around, okay?” Saying that, you switched off the light for him and slipped out, wondering where you should go next. You vaguely remembered a fountain in one of the gardens from the one time you had come here with your parents and decided to search for it.

It took you some time but eventually (after a lot of checking through balconies whether it was the correct side of the garden) you managed to find it. But as you reached there, you saw someone already seated on its edges. You couldn't make out who it was, so you decided to leave. You stopped on your tracks and took a step back, only to step on a twig.

The twig snapped with a loud thwack! which was heard loud and clear in the silent garden. The boy sitting turned to look at you, his expression changing from shock to happiness as he recognised you.

“Y/N.” Joshua greeted you, patting at the stone beside him. “Come and join me.”

Knowing you were trapped, you had no other option but to go and sit down beside him. Not that you didn’t like his companion but you really didn’t want to lash out your anger at another innocent soul.

“Hi.”

“You look pretty.” Joshua commented, to which you just smiled. The words that he had told you yesterday seemed to ring in your head now. Did he mean this? About your feelings towards Jeonghan?

“Joshua?” You asked, clearing your throat. “Yesterday…what did you mean by that?”

“It’s no fun if I tell you. Did you think about it?” The familiar mischievous glint was back in his eyes. 

“I did…a little.”

“Then you know what I’m talking about-”

“I don’t like him.” You cut him off and then upon seeing his amused look, you added, “Not in that way. He’s just a friend who agreed to help me. I don’t have feelings for him at all.” 

“Well…everyone can tell you both are perfect for each other. No one even doubts for a second that the two of you aren’t.”

You just sighed, fluttering your eyes close as you let the night breeze calm you down a little. It’s okay. You thought to yourself. Everything will be okay once he isn’t pretending to be your boyfriend anymore. Once he is gone, these feelings would go too.

Yes. That was it. Maybe you were too immersed in your role of pretending and had let your emotions take control of you. Maybe you had thought that pretending to have feelings for him would make this much easier on both of you.

A small part of you kept screaming that lying to yourself won’t change this situation, but that didn’t stop you from saying your next line as you opened your eyes to look at the man sitting next to you with a smile.

“There’s nothing between the two of us. We are just…tryna do what lovers do.” 

You remembered how Jeonghan had used you as a scapegoat to turn down Miyeon. Yes, that was the main purpose, wasn’t it? This whole relationship was built on a lie, just meant to be used and thrown for such situations.

“Joshua? Y/N?”

You froze at the familiar voice and judging from Joshua's expression, even he wasn’t expecting it. You turned back to see Jeonghan looking at the two of you. He was smiling but there was something off about it. 

Joshua got up and walked up to him, before leaning in to whisper something in Jeonghan’s ear. Then waving you a goodbye, he walked off, leaving you and Jeonghan all alone. Jeonghan came and sat down beside you, though he maintained a little distance.

“Did you- did you overhear our conversation?” You asked, confused at this sudden change in behaviour.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s there to overhear? I already know that. I already know that we are doing this for show.” He spoke curtly and you frowned.

Did you hurt him by any chance? But what you said was the truth, right?

“Are you okay? Did I say something?”

He let out a hollow laugh, before forcing a smile at you. “No, it’s not you. It’s all my fault really. It’s all my fault that this is happening and I’m sorry about it.”

“Jeonghan, you are acting weird.”

“Says the one who wouldn’t explain why she’s been mad the entire evening.”

“It’s my parents, okay?” You snapped, getting up and standing in front of him. He seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst but at this point, you really didn’t care. “They aren’t even coming today! All this drama I went through, all this stupid worry I had in my head at the end of the day meant nothing! I only agreed to come to this party because my parents would have been there but of course they decided to go to Switzerland today itself without telling me! 

I wouldn’t have even bothered asking you to be my escort if it weren’t for them. We would have been leading our own lives quietly but now I'm in this mess with you because of this stupid party! It’s so hard to play pretend that sometimes I just wish you would disappear!”

The last line slipped out of your mouth before you had even realised and you only stopped yourself when you saw Jeonghan’s expression.

You had stepped out of the line.

“I- I- Okay, I didn’t mean you to disappear! I mean, not because of that.”

Jeonghan wordlessly got up, his face all of a sudden so cold that you almost could hear your heart break. How could you do this? How could you do this to him? His eyes which usually used to hold a million emotions that you would associate with happiness were now empty as they stared back at you with contempt.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it almost immediately, as though figuring out it was better to keep quiet than argue with you.

“I see. Well, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable Y/N. I’ll leave for now but don’t worry, I’ll still pretend to be your escort for today. And then you don’t need to hang out with me that much in college. A week later, or wherever you feel like you don’t need me at all, we’ll just break up. Okay? I’m sorry for everything. Like I said, it’s all my fault.”

With that he walked away from you, your attempt to grab his sleeves fruitless.

“Jeonghan, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” You yelled after him, but he didn’t look back at you even once. “I’m sorry, Jeonghan! I really am!”

You felt tears sliding down your cheeks as the frustration that had been building up finally broke through you. 

“Yoon Jeonghan! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”

At this he stopped and turned back to you. His mouth fell open at your teary face but he didn’t take a single step to approach you.

“I’m asking you! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”

He looked unsure how to answer that. After a while, he took a gulp and replied a soft ‘no’.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears continue to flow. 

It hurt. It hurt so much that you wished your heart would stop beating. Maybe then, you would stop loving Jeonghan. Maybe then you would be able to move on from this relationship easily.

“What happened? Did I do-”

“Just leave, Hannie. Just leave.”

You saw him wince when you called him that but by now you were too tired to care, opting to sink onto the ground instead of dealing with what was in front of you. 

It had been a week. Exactly a week without texts, a week without meeting up with Jeonghan unless it was your entire friend group, a week without holding hands and a week until you finally called him.

You had thought that maybe doing all of this would completely remove him from your head, that it would be much easier to move on by pretending that your feelings were because of being so close to him.

But if anything, your love for Yoon Jeonghan had seemed to grow. He was the only thing in your mind constantly as you thought about his antics and jokes. You missed his smile and the way he would hold your hands gently. You missed everything about Jeonghan but there was nothing you could do about it, especially not after how the two of you had very obviously fucked up your friendship (neither of you had even attended the party after that; the two of you just claimed that you were tired and left).

Not that anyone even noticed. Everyone still thought you two were a couple, and it took all of your willpower not to burst into tears whenever someone mentioned Jeonghan in front of you. Of course, Seungkwan knew. And you were sure Joshua knew too. But apart from that, no one had even questioned why the air seemed so stale whenever the two of you were together.

Which brought you to your present call.

“Hello?” A groggy voice on the other side of the line had you nearly jumping off your bed, as you grabbed the phone delicately near your ear, as though you might have been hearing things.

“Uh, hi. It’s me, Y/N.” Your heart still raced at the sound of his voice and you hoped you didn’t sound as squeaky as a twelve year old talking to their crush for the first time.

A pause.

Then he chuckled. “I know, I can see your caller ID.” 

Jeonghan had acted nonchalantly with you in front of everyone, like you hadn't just hurt his feelings by asking him to disappear. But you had thought that maybe he would be different when the two of you were alone, cold and distant since you had practically thrown his kindness onto his face.

“Hahah, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.” You muttered, embarrassed at the way you were acting. Your cheeks were feeling hot and you were glad that he couldn’t see you know.

“So what do you want?”

The words were like a slap to you, but you knew very well that you deserved that. That’s what your relationship had boiled down to. Just to fulfil each other’s needs.

“Um, my parents know about us.” You muttered.

“What?” He asked, as though he hadn’t heard you clearly the first time. You could hear the slight rise in his voice.

“My parents…they know about us and…you know how dating is in our world. They think I’m seeing you as a potential life partner for later on.”

“Do you want me to come over?” He asked softly, and something inside you broke.

“I- I- don't know what to do Hannie.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks. “I don't want you to think that I’m using you, not after what I told you. I shouldn’t even be asking you to cover for me anymore. I hate myself for that so much. But I really don’t know what to tell my parents-”

“Hey.” He hushed you. “I’ll be there, okay? When do you want me to come over?”

“Can you- can you come over for lunch?”

“I’ll be there for sometime before lunch then. Just wait a little, okay?” 

True to his word, Jeonghan showed up to your house half an hour before lunch time. The minute your maids had informed you that he was here, you had rushed downstairs to pull him into your bedroom without your parents noticing.

Locking the door behind you, you leaned your back against it to catch your breath. Your eyes flicked up to meet his worried ones, and you felt the familiar warmth rush back to your chest. 

“Jeonghan I-” You began but stopped when he held your hand that was clutching his sleeves. You thought he was trying to remove it but instead clasped it in his both hands. The huge apology that you had prepared in your head vanished, and all you could was stare at him with tears pricking your eyes once more.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You whispered, your voice almost broken. Finding yourself alone with him for the first time after the incident seemed to have done something to you. All you could think of was getting him back. “I’m so sorry for all the things I told you.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, before dropping his eyes to your entwined hands. “It’s fine. It’s my fault you felt like that-”

“I wanted you to disappear because everytime I’m with you, I feel like I’m failing to just pretend you are my boyfriend.” You cut him off, taking a step closer to him. Your toes were now brushing each other’s and he looked up at you confused, as though he could not believe what he had just heard.

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I know- I know that you might hate me after this because I’m- because I’m just misusing your goodness. But I’m in love with you Hannie. I like you so much that it drove me crazy trying to keep things the way it was between us. I had hoped maybe that after our fight I would forget you but instead I kept wanting you more. And I hated the fact that I hurt you. I hated-”

“Shh.” He whispered, taking both of your hands in his. He jerked you closer to him, until your noses were just a few inches apart. You were so close to him that you could smell the cologne lingering on him and see the black flecks in his soft brown eyes. His warm gaze was turning your knees to putty and you grasped his hand more tightly to steady yourself. “Don’t- Don’t ever say that, okay? Because I love you so much I can’t bear to see you crumbling like this, hating yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault. I love you so much that it’s okay if you don’t want me if I’m hurting you or making you uncomfortable.”

Taking a deep breath in harshly, you blinked at him as you tried to clear your brain.

Jeonghan…loved you too. He loved you.

When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan covered the little distance between the two of you by pressing his lips against yours. You felt yourself melt into his touch, hands now clutching his biceps to steady yourself.

He pushed you against the door to press against your body better, his hands squeezing your hips gently. Jeonghan’s lips were soft against yours, kissing you feverishly as though you might disappear if he stopped to even catch his breath. 

You felt all rational thoughts leave your body when your teeth accidentally grazed against his lower lip, causing him to groan in your mouth. One hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to get better access to your lips. 

His frantic kisses moved towards your ears, starting from the corner of your lip, to your cheek and finally to the soft skin right below your ear.

“Hannie.” You whispered softly, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked on the soft skin, kissing, biting and licking the same spot. You realised that the only thing supporting your jelly legs was the door and his grip on your waist, but you couldn’t even tell him to stop because of the euphoric feeling in your heart.

God, you loved him so, so much.

You tugged at his hair gently, causing him to stop doing what he was doing to look at you, and you threw your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He didn’t even falter for a second and immediately wrapped his arm around you, engulfing you in his warmth.

“I love it when you call me Hannie.” He whispered, kissing your ear softly. You felt yourself smile, giving him a squeeze as you felt your heart might explode out of happiness. 

“And I love you.”

Pulling away from him, you mirrored his smile, his soft gaze making you feel giddy like always. “But Hannie..” You began, and he cut you off with a quick kiss on your lips. 

“Hmmm?”

“I had really wanted to dance with you that day.”

“Is that so?” He hummed, his eyes shining with the familiar devilish glint. “Then should we dance after I tell your parents you are officially my girlfriend?”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!    

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑  

#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen #svt x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 14 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - When Spencer’s drinking gets out of control, he reaches out to a friend for help. He makes a series of decisions for the sake of his own mental health.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

A/N - I don’t know how finals work so I just made it up. Also questions detailed for Spencer’s therapy are taken from real life therapy questionnaires.

Warnings - arguing, drinking, drunk Spencer, one night stand, mentions of protective sex, swearing, slight alcohol abuse, AA meetings, mention of past drug addiction, therapists, talk of depression, Spencer gets angry at Taco, mentions of dog urine and faeces, therapy questionnaires, mentions of affairs and divorce, mentions of schizophrenia.

WC - 5.7k

Chapter 14 - Forever Winter

He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days,

He says, "Why fall in love, just so you can watch it go away?"

He spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be,

He spends most of his flights getting pulled down by gravity.

Professor Monroe did not return to work on Monday and so Spencer had to spend another week with you. 

It was finals week which meant longer hours, more time having to be spent together. It made the long, awkward silences more uncomfortable, the withering looks more grating. 

He tried to focus on the fact two days after he’d put in the offer on the house it had been accepted, and less than twelve hours after that he’d agreed an offer on his own home. 

Between finals, the tension with you and getting the ball rolling with his house sale and purchase, Spencer was stretched extremely thin. 

He still tried to give his all to his girls but his evenings were spent with papers and forms and all kinds of other legal nonsense that Maeve had taken care of last time. 

Honestly, he was exhausted. And it didn’t help matters that every time he saw you his heart shattered a little more. 

He thankfully made it through the last week of the semester with his sanity still just about in check. He was packing up his office for the summer when there was a knock at his door. 

“Come in,” he stood up straight as the door opened and you tentatively walked inside. 

You clutched your purse close like it was your only lifeline. 

“Was there anything else you needed before I head out?” You asked politely, but there was a hint of frustration in your voice. 

“Uh no I don’t think so. Have a good summer I guess.” He replied, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

You nodded curtly and turned back to the door but before you could leave Spencer spoke again.

“Do you want to maybe grab a coffee? I’d really like to just clear the air.” 

Your back straightened as you slowly turned back to him. 

“I, uh…I have plans.” You shrugged, rolling your lip between your teeth. 

Your facial expression told Spencer all the things you weren’t saying. 

“Oh,” he croaked. “You have a date?” 

“Not a date…not really. I’m just having dinner with a guy I went to college with. S’not a big deal.” You continued gnawing on your lip. 

“Wow, good to see you’ve bounced back so fast.” His lips drew into a tight line and he grabbed his satchel off the desk, swinging it over his shoulder and heading for the door,  

“It’s not like that.” You huffed, holding your hands out to stop him as he went to pass you. 

“Sure it’s not.” He rolled his eyes. “So while I’ve been missing you every second of every day you’ve been reconnecting with an old college “friend”. Super, just super.” 

You grabbed him by the shoulders when he tried to pass you again and shoved him backwards a little. 

“You don’t get to do this,” you spat. “You don’t get to be mad at me for moving on. We broke up because you’re in love with someone else, Spencer! What am I supposed to do? Pine over you? Make myself miserable and wallow because you didn’t love me the way I love you? You don’t have the right to be mad, Spencer.”

“I have the right to be whatever I want to be.” He bit back. “Clearly you didn’t love me as much as you claimed to if you can move on so fast. I was married for a long time, I’m allowed to have complicated feelings about that. But my feelings for my ex in no way diminished my feelings for you. There’s no rule book on love Y/N. Just because I still love my ex-wife doesn’t mean I don’t also love you. Have a good summer, and have a wonderful time with your college friend.” 

He pushed past you and you let him go. He swung open the door so aggressively it bounced on its hinges and hit the wall. You stepped out into the corridor after him and couldn’t stop yourself yelling after him.

“Go to hell Doctor Reid!” 

You saw him slow his pace briefly, as though he might turn back and reply but he didn’t. He forced himself to keep walking. 

And once he was out of sight, your first tear escaped your eye. 

***

The music thrummed through the speakers, vibrating down the walls, through the floorboards and up through the soles of his shoes. 

It pulsed and pumped like a frantically beating heart, filling his veins with a nervous energy which manifested in his constantly jiggling left leg and fingers drumming against the table top. 

His free hand which wasn’t tapping the table was grasped around his glass as he raised it to his lips and swallowed down the amber liquid. 

He slammed the empty glass back on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I’m getting another drink.” He yelled to be heard over the music and went to stand but a hand on his arm stopped him. 

“I think you’ve had enough, Reid.” Emily replied just as loudly. 

“Weren’t you quitting drinking anyway?” JJ asked him. 

“I thought this was supposed to be fun. I’m not having fun.” He groaned. 

After dropping the girls at Maeve’s he’d called JJ and asked if he could come over, not wanting to be alone. 

She’d informed him it was girls night, she, Emily, Penelope and Tara were going out to a club on one of their rare Friday nights off. 

The next thing she’d known, Spencer had invited himself along. 

He was four scotch’s deep and it was already going to his head. All four women were incredibly worried about him. 

“What if we dance? Dancing’s fun.” Penelope tried. 

“I hate dancing.” Spencer shook his head. “I’m getting another drink.” 

This time when he got up no one tried to stop him. The four women exchanged glances as he pushed his way through the crowds towards the bar. 

“I’m worried about him.” JJ shook her head sadly. 

“Me too.” Garcia agreed. 

“He just needs to blow off some steam. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Tara shrugged, sipping her wine. “Not much of a ladies night.” 

“Let’s go dance while he’s distracted.” Emily suggested and the others nodded in agreement. 

Spencer didn’t see them go, too busy trying to get the bartender's attention. His head was spinning and he felt like he could taste the music, it was so loud. 

But the more he drank, the less he thought about you and your date-not-a-date. The more scotch he consumed the less he pictured you rolling around in bed with some college friend you’d never mentioned before. 

The more alcohol he indulged in, the less his heart felt like it was breaking. 

He ordered his drink and took a large sip of it, relishing in the way the alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. 

When he turned away from the bar there was a set of large brown eyes staring right at him. 

The woman the eyes belonged to was tall and curvaceous, shoulder length blonde hair and a smile directed right at him. 

She moved closer to him, her hips swaying as she walked. When she reached him, she placed her hands on his shoulders, moving her face close to his ear so she could be heard when she spoke. 

“Hi,” she breathed against his ear. “I’m Lauren.” 

“Spencer,” he replied, his free hand finding purchase on her hip. 

“I saw you with that group of women, one of them your girlfriend?” 

“Nope, no. Just friends. No girlfriend.” He swallowed, his hand gripping the glass shaking a little. 

“That’s good to know.” She giggled, pulling away from his ear and looking down at his lips which were parted slightly. 

He knew this was a terrible idea, so far past terrible in fact. But he also couldn’t help himself. Lauren was beautiful, seductive and clearly interested in him. And maybe she was just what he needed to take his mind off of things. 

He raised his drink to his lips and downed it, placing the empty on the bar behind him. One hand still on her hip, his now free one cupped her cheek, brushing his fingertips against her skin. 

“You got a problem with me kissing you?” He smiled at her. 

“Not at all.” She smiled back before he was soon slamming their lips together. 

The last thing Spencer remembered before the alcohol took over was grabbing her by the hand and leading her towards the door, the two of them fleeing together into the night. 

***

By the fourth time Taco barked, Spencer forced his eyes open. The mangy dog was sitting on the floor next to his bed, glaring at his owner with his beady little eyes. 

“Go away,” Spencer grumbled, his head immediately starting to throb. “You aren’t going to starve. Just need a little more sleep.” 

He pulled the duvet over his head and ignored Taco when he barked twice more. He groaned into his pillow, his stomach turning and head pounding.

Taco barked again and Spencer half considered getting up just to kick the dog until he was silent. But the dog was the least of his concerns. 

“Can you shut that thing up?” A female voice came from behind him and Spencer sat up and whipped around so fast the whole room spun.

Her blonde hair was tangled on the pillow and the sheet was slung around her waist, her bare chest on display. 

“What the fuck?” He panted, lifting the sheet and looking down at his own naked body beneath it. “Oh fuck, did we? Shit!” 

He lept out of bed and the woman grumbled while he tried to locate his boxers. 

“Why are you being so loud?” She whined. 

He found his underwear and pulled them on before turning back to her. 

“You need to leave, now.” He told her, her eyes fluttering open. 

“Well that’s rude.” She pulled the sheet over her body. 

“This shouldn’t have happened. We shouldn’t have…fuck!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Did we use protection?”

Lauren sat up against the pillows, eyes blurry and hair messy. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I was as drunk as you were.”

“Are you on the pill?” He glared at her. 

“Yes.” She huffed, 

“But you don’t know if we used a condom? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m such a fucking idiot.” He started pacing, hunting the room for a used condom or a ripped packet. 

“What is your problem?” She groaned, rubbing her eyes and causing her mascara to flake. 

“My problem? My problem!” He raised his voice even though it hurt his head to do so. “My problem is I have two kids that were born from a combination of too much alcohol and forgotten condoms. Fuck, how could I be so stupid?” 

“You have kids?” She frowned. 

“Yes! Why do you think I live in this giant suburban hell hole?” He continued to search the room. 

Lauren glanced around the room, she hadn’t noticed last night how feminine his bedroom was.

“Jesus Christ, you didn’t tell me you were married!” She spat, swinging her legs out of the bed. 

“I’m not married. I said I have kids.” He found the trash can in the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the used condom sitting on top. “Oh thank fuck.” 

“You’re telling me a woman doesn’t live here?” She scoffed, locating her clothes and starting to dress. 

“A woman used to live here, I haven’t decorated. I’m moving out…it doesn’t matter. None of that matters. You need to leave.” 

“Don’t worry I’m going.” Lauren dressed as quickly as she could. “I did not sign up for this.” 

She was soon throwing her heels back on and found her purse tossed on the dressing table which she grabbed before leaving the room. Spencer followed her, still wearing only his underwear and motioned her downstairs towards the front door. 

“I, uh, I don’t mean to be an asshole,” he swallowed as he unlocked the door. “I really wasn’t in the right frame of mind last night. I’m sorry.” 

“Whatever,” Lauren clucked as the door opened. “It is what it is.” 

She weaved past him and out of the door, heading down the front steps as the gate opened and someone started up the path. Spencer closed his eyes and leant back against the door jamb. 

He didn’t watch as you encountered the scantily dressed blonde halfway down the path. He refused to look as you gave her a once over and as Lauren rolled her eyes. 

“I thought you said a woman didn’t live here?” Lauren called back to him. 

Spencer’s eyes shot open and he looked guiltily between you and her. 

“It’s not…I know this looks bad but it’s not…” He groaned, wanting the world to swallow him whole. 

“Wear a ring, asshole!” Lauren spat and before he could explain, she was strutting away on her too high heels.

You glared at him from the path, not wanting to come any closer as the rage bubbling through your veins might cause you to physically hurt him. 

“Hi,” he shrugged meekly. “I really wish you’d shown up like, two minutes later.” 

“You really are something else, aren’t you?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You called me sixteen times last night, left me five voicemails telling me how much you missed me and now I show up here and see some bimbo leaving your house? Jesus Christ, Spencer, seriously?” 

“I…sixteen times?” He frowned, he didn’t remember calling you once let alone sixteen times. 

“Yes,” You nodded, taking a few tentative steps closer. “I even left dinner earlier, I walked out on a nice evening with an uncomplicated, charming man. And I actually came here today because I thought, maybe, maybe we could work on things. And then I see her leaving and it certainly doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened between the two of you.”

He followed your gaze when you gestured up and down his nearly naked frame. He grimaced, wrapping his arms around his torso as his cheeks flushed. 

“I was…drunk. Really drunk and I made a really bad judgement call. But in my defence, I was upset, ok? I was sad and so I drank and I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your college friend and I figured a one night stand might take my mind off of things.” He shrugged with a deep sigh. “It didn’t mean anything, I swear.” 

“I don’t care, Spencer.” You shook your head. “I’m glad I saw her actually, because now I know it was a huge mistake coming here. We were never going to be able to work things out. Your one night stand saved me from more heartbreak.” 

“Just come inside, let's talk.” 

“No.” You shook your head, taking a few steps backwards. 

“Y/N, please?” He begged, stepping out of his house. 

“No, no. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I have to go.” You continued walking backwards while Spencer carried on towards you. 

You bumped into the gate and quickly turned to open it.

“Y/N, wait, please!” He hurried towards you, but you were already back on the street, running towards your car. “Y/N! Wait….please? Fuck!” 

He yelled, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced across the street where his neighbour who had been tending to her yard was staring at him. Of course she was, he was the crazy man screaming after a woman wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Morning Mrs Lopez.” He offered a tight lipped smile and meek wave before turning away from her and retreating back inside. 

Once the door was closed he fell back against it, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Just when things seemed to be as bad as they could get, he kept making them worse. He couldn’t seem to do anything right lately. 

Drinking as much as he was certainly wasn’t helping matters. He thought he’d had it under control but maybe he was wrong. 

He was falling apart at the seams. He needed to do something, needed to make a change before his anger and his sadness ripped his whole life apart. If he continued on this self-destructive path he could lose everything, his girls included. 

And they deserved more from him. 

It was time he took a good, long look in the mirror and made a change. It was time for Spencer Reid to start thinking about himself and make some drastic changes before his life wound up upside down. 

No more drinking. He had to put a stop to that before it had a chance to escalate, he knew all too well the perils of addiction. 

He dragged himself back upstairs and found his cell phone, pulling up his contacts and locating her number. He sat on the edge of the bed while it rang a few times, soon her breezy voice was carrying down the line.

“Reid, hi. Where did you go last night, we were worried about you?” 

“I’m fine, everything’s fine.” He tried to placate her but then he sighed. “Actually that’s not true. Nothing is fine.”

“What’s wrong?” She quickly panicked down the line.

“I need your help.” He sniffed, his eyes welling with tears. “I hate to have to ask you this with your history with your ex, but I don’t know who else to ask. I can’t keep on like this, I really need to get sober. Would you…would you go to a meeting with me?” 

There was a pause of silence while his words sunk in and he worried briefly she would shoot him down. But soon enough she was speaking.

“Of course I will, Reid. Of course I will.” Tara Lewis replied, that calming tone of hers wrapping him in a comforting blanket.

“Thank you Tara. Thank you so much.” He sniffed again, a few tears escaping. 

“I’ll have a look online and find something nearby ok? I’ll text you the details.” 

“Ok,” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Tara?”

“Yes Reid?”

“Please don’t tell anyone. They’ll only worry.” 

Tara didn’t think it would help him to hear how worried they all were about him already. Instead she agreed and soon they were both hanging up the phone. 

***

It had been over fifteen years since Spencer set foot in some kind of meeting. Back then, when he’d been going through his dilaudid addiction, he’d attended a few meetings at Beltway Clean Cops. This was his first time going to such a place with civilians.

But he’d been a civilian himself now for a long time, so he guessed it made sense.

He spent most of it sitting in the back with Tara, clutching her hand while others spoke. Towards the end she encouraged him to go up and speak.

Despite his awkwardness, public speaking had never phased him much. Not usually anyway. But standing up at that podium and having to talk in front of a room full of addicts was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of his life. 

He made eye contact with Tara who gave him a soft smile and a nod of motivation. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Spencer.” He began, not taking his eyes off of Tara.

“Hi Spencer.” The room spoke in unison.

“I, uh…I suppose I’m here because I have a problem. I don’t want to use the word addiction because I don’t think I’m at that stage yet but it’s certainly heading that way.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Years ago I had a problem with dilaudid, I haven’t used in over fifteen years. I don’t know that I can say I was sober though, because I still drank from time to time. 

Over the last year that drinking has gotten heavier. For a long time I didn’t think of alcohol the same as I did dilaudid, it seemed so harmless in comparison. But I think I’ve started replacing one vice with another and if I don’t stop drinking entirely it is going to get to a point where I can’t stop. 

I have two kids, two little girls and I am their primary caregiver. Lily is seven and Daisy is fourteen and old enough to know that I am struggling. Their mom and I were married for thirteen years before she dropped a bombshell that she’d been having an affair for three years. I guess I’ve not been the same since. On the weekends I don’t have my girls, I tend to drink to numb the pain. 

I know I need to make a change, even if only for my daughter’s. So I came here in the hopes of quitting drinking before it’s too late for me.” 

He took a deep breath once he was finished. He hadn’t planned to say all of that but he found when he started talking he couldn’t stop. 

Tara was smiling at him with pride and she started to clap which caused the rest of the room to join in. 

Spencer felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment and he averted his gaze down to the podium. He hurried away while the applause continued and kept his eyes on the floor as he made his way back to his seat.

As soon as he sat down, Tara took hold of his hand and he glanced at her. She was smiling brightly at him and if he wasn’t mistaken, he swore she had tears in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mouthed at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

He smiled in thanks and turned back to face the front as another speaker took to the podium. 

Truth be told, he was proud of himself too. 

***

Tara took him for lunch after the meeting and he regaled her with all the sorry details of what happened after he left the bar last night, including you showing up at his house. She listened patiently, giving input where necessary and never once judging him. 

After they ate, they went for a walk in the park for a while until it got a little too hot and they found a bench in the shade of a large tree. 

“A while ago you mentioned to me about seeing a therapist.” He spoke without looking at her. “I think it’s probably a good idea.”

“I have some friends in the field, I can give you some numbers.” She watched the side of his face.

“Yes please, that would be helpful.” He played with his hands in his lap, slowly turning his head to look at Tara. “You know, Daisy asked me if I was depressed and I honestly think that’s the first time I’d ever really thought about it before. That’s what this is right? Depression.” 

“Most likely.” She nodded slowly. “But I think with the right combination of therapy and medication you’ll be just fine, Spencer.” 

“You think it gets better?” He asked, rolling his lip between his teeth somewhat violently. 

“I know it will get better.” She took hold of his hand once more and held it tightly. “You’ve had a rough time, life has not been kind to you. But you deserve to be happy again and you will be.” 

“Thank you.” He sniffed.

“For what?” 

“For today, for everything really. If it weren’t for you and the team and my girls, I would have crumbled a long time ago.” 

“If you ever do crumble,” Tara squeezed his hand. “You can be assured we will all be there to help you pick up the pieces. That’s what family is for.” 

A tear escaped his eye and he was quick to bat it away. Tara continued to hold his hand while they sat in silence, watching the world pass them by from the park bench. 

When they parted ways, she gave him some numbers of therapists and he promised to call her if he felt the need to drink again. He had to admit he felt a little lighter by the time he returned home that evening. 

But then he walked in his door.

In the state he’d been in that morning he had forgotten that leaving his shit for brain’s dog alone all day would be a terrible idea. He’d also forgotten to feed the mangy thing. And boy had Taco protested. 

His couch was almost entirely ripped to shreds, the leather fabric clawed and scratched apart. The one remaining couch cushion Taco hadn’t already destroyed was now ruined, in a pile of fluff on the floor. 

He’d knocked over the coat rack and torn apart Spencer’s favourite navy blue pea coat. The coat rack had clearly knocked into the wall and left a dent behind, one more mark he would have to fix before he moved. 

On top of that there was a yellow urine stain in the middle of the living room and as Spencer moved further into the house he found Taco had also defecated at the bottom of the stairs. 

He ignored the mess and the dog, because if he didn’t he might actually strangle the mutt, and headed through to the kitchen. He opened the back door and Taco sprinted into the yard. 

He put food down for the moronic creature, wanting nothing more than to open the back gate and let the dog run free, he could tell the girls he accidentally got out. He cleaned up the pile of faeces in the hall and scrubbed the carpet of urine. 

He left the back door open while he trudged upstairs and was met with yet more destruction caused by the dog. 

Thankfully Daisy and Lily’s bedroom doors had been left shut but he’d failed to do the same with his own. One of his pillows had met the same fate as the couch cushion. He’d managed somehow to get the book off of Spencer’s nightstand and torn that to shreds, ripped pages littering his bed. 

He’d turned the trash can upside down and the used condom was laying in the middle of the room.

“Gross, so gross.” Spencer groaned, picking up the garbage, condom included and throwing it back in the trash. “I swear to god I am going to put you down myself, Taco.” 

In his ensuite, Taco had pulled his towel off of the back of the door and urinated on it. 

He snatched it up and marched downstairs where he tossed the soiled towel into the washing machine. Taco was back inside, happily eating his kibble without a care in the world. 

“Something needs to change.” He spat at the dog even though he couldn’t understand him. “I am not putting up with this.” 

Taco, not surprisingly, didn’t reply, instead carried on eating. 

Spencer closed the back door and slumped through to his living room, falling down on his trashed couch. 

He pulled out his cell phone and typed a quick text message. 

📲 To: Luke Alvez - Hey man, I don’t suppose you know any good dog trainers? This fucking creature is going to be the death of me. 

He hit send, before pulling out the list of names Tara had given him earlier. She’d put a little star next to one name in particular who she thought would be a good fit for Spencer. 

Before he could change his mind, he dialled the number. 

“Hello, you’ve reached the office of Doctor Maria Sanchez, Hannah speaking, how may I help?” A chipper female voice came down the line. 

“Uh, hi. A friend of mine gave me Doctor Sanchez’s number. I’d like to make an appointment I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“Ok, sure. You’d need to fill out a questionnaire but if you give me an email address I can get that sent over to you. You can just email it right back and Doctor Sanchez will review it and be in touch.” 

Spencer exhaled before reeling off his email address. A few minutes later he was hanging up. A reply from Luke awaited him. 

📱 Do I know any good dog trainers? You offend me, Reid. Who do you think trained Roxy? I’d be happy to help corral your pup. Just been called in on a case but I’ll hit you up when I’m back.

He put his phone down and exhaled deeply. He was starting to make strides. He was moving house, he’d gone to his first meeting, he was looking into a therapist and sorting out his nightmare dog. 

The next thing on the agenda was to buy a new couch. 

***

The following morning he opened his computer in his office and faced a four page pre-therapy questionnaire.

It started out simple enough, his name, date of birth occupation, current employer and his home address. Relatively straight forward stuff. The first set of questions were about his parents, what his childhood was like and a section to detail any siblings.

It wasn’t easy to fill out given his family history, but he managed it. It was the next section in which he started having issues. 

If married, please give the name and age of your spouse and the date of your marriage. If you have been married before, please write the names of your former spouses(s) and the date(s) of that (those) marriage(s).

Briefly describe your marital relationship(s). 

God-fucking-damnit.

He tried not to let himself think about what he was writing, just let his fingers glide across the keyboard without giving it too much thought. It was easy enough to type out her name and age and the date of their marriage. It was the second question he had difficulty with. 

He swallowed thickly as he started to type in the allocated box.

I became separated from my wife over a year ago when she informed me she had been having a three year long affair. We later got divorced. Before her affair we had a good marriage, for the most part. I wasn’t always home a lot due to my job but we were happy I think. I guess that’s not true though because if that were true then she wouldn’t have cheated on me. We have not remained on good terms. 

He started typing about his girls but then his eyes glanced at the next question and realised that was better saved, so he deleted that part and moved onto the next box. 

Please give the names and ages of all children and stepchildren, whether or not they are living at home.

Daisy Reid, fourteen / Lily Reid, seven. They live at home with me and stay with their mother every other weekend. 

He stopped typing to take a sip of coffee while he glanced at the next question. 

Do you or anyone in your family have a history of depression or other mental illness? Were any ever hospitalised for this? 

He closed his eyes and let out a staggered breath. He’d thought the actual therapy would be the hard part, this was supposed to be a walk in the park in comparison. He had another sip of coffee and began to type again.

My mother suffers from schizophrenia and I made the decision to institutionalise her when I was eighteen. 

Short and simple. He didn’t want to dive too much into this. But then the next question almost forced him to shut the computer down entirely and retreat back to bed. 

Have you or any member of your family ever had a problem of misusing alcohol or drugs? Who and for how long? Is there a current problem? 

He let out another breath, shaking his head at the computer as if it was somehow the device's fault. 

I had a problem with dilaudid between 2006 and 2007. I have been clean since but have recently realised I use alcohol as a coping mechanism. I am going to meetings and trying to get sober. 

The following few questions were about his educational history and his physical health which were much easier to answer. The next section was about his concerns about therapy and what he hoped to achieve from it. All fairly straightforward. 

The last section was a list of fifteen statements in which he was supposed to mark on a scale of 0 to 3 how often those problems had affected him in the last week, zero being none at all and three being severe. He took a breath and just tried to hurry through them. 

Feeling lonely 3

Low motivation to get things done 2

Trouble concentrating 3

Fatigue 3

Worry 3

Trouble falling asleep 3

Awaking during the night with problems returning to sleep 3

Tension in shoulders, neck or chest 3

Irritability 3

Thoughts of ending your own life 0

Feeling guilty 3

Feeling hopeless 3

Feeling worthless 3

Sexual concerns 0

Body discomfort 0

At the very least he hadn’t answered three to all of them, he thought, grimacing at his answers. Before he could talk himself out of it he replied to the email and attached the form, hitting send and not letting himself dwell on the answers he’d given. 

He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee, knowing he needed to go out and buy a replacement couch before he picked the kids up tomorrow. He didn’t enjoy the idea of them seeing the destruction their stupid dog had caused. 

It took him almost an hour of sitting at his desk, staring at the wall until he finally got his legs to cooperate and he stood up. Before he left the house he shut Taco in the kitchen, hoping to contain the mutt's cataclysmic behaviour.

And then he drove out to the district to a furniture store and reluctantly picked out a new couch, paying extra for the privilege of having it delivered the same day and for having them haul his old one off, before driving back home and waiting for them to show. 

His therapy application played on his mind all day, that and the fact he really wanted a drink. He didn’t call Tara, not wanting to bother her while they were on a case and just hoping he could stave off his cravings until it was time to pick up Daisy and Lily. 

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @angelicasworld

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[poorwritingandstalecoffee]

in vita, in media morte sumus. Ch.1

WC: 2K

Note: New series popping out! I really have no idea the direction of this series or how many chapters will be included. Also, updates will likely be spread out since I am in the middle of the semester. Therefore, patience will be greatly appreciated with how quickly I can shell out chapters. Also, this is only the second extended work I've done, so once again, patience and kindness are very much appreciated.

Note: Also, Desdemona is 19-20 years old. The terms of her education at Nevermore will be explained in the upcoming chapters. HINT: Nevermore has blended into a high school/college atmosphere for Outcasts using alternating schedules.

BUZZZ!

*Rustling* 

“I.D.? … Hmm, here for the Addams girl?”

“What gave it away? The black or the black?”

“Tish, play nice, my love.” 

“Ohh, a playful little barb never hurt anybody, dear. Now, where is our little dagger, hmm?”

“Right this way,” the guard grumbled with his head down. He pulled the radio to his mouth. “Open cell block 394.”

BUZZ! 

Their banter reached your ears before you reached the end of the hall. It made you want to claw your ears to bloody shreds and stuff them down the throat of the guard that would not stop picking at his fucking fingers—flicking dirt from underneath the dead nailbed with the toothpick. Swipe, dig, flick. Swipe, dig, flick! Nothing like family to incite you into a murder spree.

Morticia and Gomez turned a corner and met you at the halfway point between cell block 394 and cell block 394-C. “Aahh! Our little dagger! Look at you in your little red uniform,” said Gomez, clapping his hands as if to seal the finality of his joy.

Morticia smirked at you and murmured, “Only the best for an Adams.” She winked at you behind the bars separating the cell blocks, making your lip twitch. 

Despite your distaste for her overtly sweet manner, you did appreciate her respect for your reputation that has awarded you such an unmatched level of security—a uniquely colored uniform and private cell block, in fact—and fear that wafted off those you passed, including the guard who has yet to remove his eyes from your form. You suppose rightly so since you did have the propensity to pounce on those inside the prison with teeth slashing into their pliable flesh, even if your hands were permanently locked into a steel cage. 

You watched the guard pocket his dirty toothpick and slowly speak into his radio while eyes remained watchful of you, “Open the gate.” 

The security light overhead flashed green while the gate buzzed open from a remote control center, and you stepped through the threshold. You sighed and walked up to your mother and father. “Hello, parents. Did you get bored of trying to act like you could still procreate and decide to pay your eldest a visit finally?”

“Desdemona!” Morticia shrieked. 

Gomez chuckled and touched her back to quell her growing frustration. “Easy, Tish, she’s just warming up for the day. You didn’t mean it, did you, my little hellion?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How serious are you about breaking me out of here?” You narrowed your eyes at him while all four of you, including the guard, walked back to the entrance. As the four of you stepped outside the prisoner living quarters, Gomez turned and gestured toward the guard, who was hesitantly moving toward you with a set of keys jingling in his unsteady hands. You watched him fit the correct key into the lock of the steel cage and turn the little knobs inside, releasing the pressure from the cuffs and letting them bounce apart from your wrists before the box snapped open and thudded to the ground. Your brow raised while you rubbed at your sore wrists. Giving a cursory glance at the guard, you thought, ehh, there’s better prey than you, little piggy. 

You turned toward your father and mother as they said, “Dead serious, darling.” You smirked and followed them to the car. Lurch let you all in, moved into the driver's seat, and put the pedal on the floor, leaving dust and gravel flying in your wake with the prison and the shaking guard fading into little dark spots.

Turning back to your parents, you said, “So, who did you kill, poison, or bribe to get my indefinite sentence halted?” 

Morticia and Gomez stopped fawning over each other and whispering like teenagers about their little escapades in their youth that were similar to this one. They turned to you, and Morticia said with a familiar smirk, “A certain judge might have suddenly come to the belief that were you not immediately released, his bowels might begin imploding on him, causing massive internal bleeding that would quickly escalate to extreme bloodloss and sudden death.”

You raised your brow, thinking, gross, definitely not your style. Then again, yours and your parents’ signatures have never quite aligned. Have they? “And he agreed to that?”

“Well…a little give was admittedly needed on our part, little dagger. No justice system would simply allow a famed serial murderer to walk without some sort of agreed-upon rehabilitation plan. That is what our little friend informed us." Gomez said this with palms up and a placating smile, knowing you would add in that you could have done it without having to bend your will, albeit coming away with messier hands and the smell of blood on you. 

Scoffing, you looked out the window, knowing whatever they agreed to put you through would not be to your liking, which would most certainly make your parents smirk with satisfaction—Morticia, anyway. Your relationship with your parents has always been a complicated one. “So, what will this forced rehabilitation plan look like, hmm?”

You could practically feel Morticia buzzing with selfish glee as she slowly said it, letting her lips form each word wholly before dropping them before you to splatter into the carpeted floorboard under your feet. “You're going to attend school with your younger sister, Dezzy. Our old alma mater, Nevermore Academy.”

“WHAT?” You barely registered that she used that stupid, loathsome nickname because all you could hear was your blood ringing through your ears. Your heartbeat sped up, imagining you mingling with petty little tweens and other teenagers as they giggled, cursed, sweated, cried, and chatted with one another. Their germs and fluids mixing as bodies inevitably tangled, writhed, and pulled at one another while they threw away all of their intellectual capacities for brief moments of desire and ecstasy. You don’t know how Wednesday does it every day. God, I hope that place hasn’t changed her, you thought. 

“Oh, come now, Dezzy–

“I told you never to call me that! You know how I feel about that fucking nickname!” You screamed, images of you trapped and bashing your fists against the underside of the musty floorboards while tears streamed down your cheeks, listening to the girls chanting Dezzy! Dezzy! The scared little baby! above you flashed in your eyes. You blinked the memories away and looked at Morticia out of the corner of your eyes with betrayal and disappointment. She never fucking learns, you thought.

Morticia was always startled at your outbursts, the level of fury you could hurl at her in a second. Like the flip of a match, you exploded on her, which never fails to leave her speechless and hurt. She looked to Gomez for support but found him nudging his head towards you as a signal to apologize; Morticia, come on. She looked at you as you stared out the window, watching the foliage blur into greens and browns. Sighing, she thought, fucking stupid, you remember why she hates that name, hell you walked in on them doing it, Morticia! Leaning her head towards you, she tries to get your attention again and slowly says, “I’m sorry darling, I- I know, I shouldn’t have said that. It slipped out before I knew what I was saying, little dagger. Desdemona darling…” she waited for you to look at her, “forgive me?”

You studied her expression, saw the plea in her eyes, and remembered how she ripped out the floorboards, picked you up from that dark, spider-infested place, and held you in her arms. While you cried and clung to her, she held you and screamed how could you? What is wrong with you? You’re fucking monsters! to the group of blushing girls caught red-handed. You remember how she stormed into the headmaster’s office, demanding an explanation for why he didn’t protect you, why those girls were left unsupervised, why he let you go so long without a single friendship made at that damned school? Above all, you remember her vowing never to bring her daughter back to that hellhole and that he could say goodbye to his reputation and credentials as an educator. You recall as she carried you out of there, hearing her swearing on her mother’s grave that he and those girls would pay severely for making her baby scream and cry out in fear. Ohh, how you could hear her chanting something deadly in her spell room while Gomez talked with strange men about visiting the families of those unfortunate, monstrous people, and finally, you remember seeing four little dolls that looked so like the condemned from that school wind up on your mother’s desk in gruesome conditions with pins and burned bodies.

“Okay, fine, I forgive you—but only for the nickname, not for this nightmare you are about to put me through,” you grumbled and leaned your head on the back of the seat. 

Morticia smiled and forced herself not to reach out and clasp your hands because she knew how alike her daughters could be. Instead, she grasped Gomez’s arm and said, “Nevermore is a charming little gothic wonderland! We swear it is not like other schools; Nevermore is a place for freaks, ghouls, werewolves, vampires, and gothics alike. Tell her, Gomez.”

“Tish is right, my little dagger. Nevermore is unlike any school; it was founded by Poe himself, after all. The principal there is devoted to ensuring every student feels welcome…especially after what happened last year, the school has become more like a family of goths and freaks that protects its own.” 

“How touching,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm in response to their sickly sweet praises of the school. You looked out the window and saw the beginnings of a massive castle-like structure forming in the distance. Turning to your parents, you sighed, “Well, if I am to spend the rest of my sentence here, at least tell me more of this famous school and its esteemed principal that you’re so giddy to bore me over—quickly though, otherwise my ears might burst with anymore prolonged exposure to your insane joy.”

Morticia frowned at the word sentence and watched you smirk at her facial expression. Sighing, she thought, sometimes you and Wednesday are too alike before going into detail with Gomez about the academy’s history and the unfortunate events of last year. The tales of the raving monster they called the Hyde and its evil commander, how they ravaged the town, the school, and everyone that came unsuspectingly into their path—they were gruesome. Morticia and Gomez smirked at the unmistakable growing spark of curiosity and thrill in your eyes. An Adams through and through. They told you how Wednesday and her band of misfits were crucial to stopping the Hyde and its evil commander, Mrs. Thornhill, and how Wednesday’s known skill for potionmaking ended up saving the principal with one of her concocted antidotes. Indeed, what a tale of misery, murder, and mystery it was. Agatha Christie would be pleased, you thought. 

…

Staring up at the gothic architecture, in all its dark, sullen glory, you thought it impressive. At least your parents were not wrong about the appearance and atmosphere of the place. Nevermore is most certainly a school reserved for only the best of freaks and goths; you could see students roaming about under the gables, curved archways, gargoyles, and on the marbled and grassy surfaces of the quad and the lawn surrounding the gothic concrete creature. It looked more like an overdone mansion than a school. Students dressed in matching dark purple and blue uniforms, some with black glasses, others with mixed expressions of glee, curiosity, suspicion, or dread, and carrying books, backpacks, trinkets, or all three; it made them look like little characters from a story that were hiding powers and ambiguous morality. 

Making your way through the school entrance with your parents on your heels and gossiping about the glorious days of their youth—yuck!—you came face to face with the gold plaque of Principal Weems. You could hear her typing away on her laptop and talking on the phone about a banquet, or was it a dance? Her voice was distinctly sweet yet deep—how dark could it go?—and smoothly rich, the voice of someone who was not afraid to demand respect and authority she likely felt she was rightly due…and of someone who was used to receiving it promptly, with haste…someone who rarely found herself matched and challenged. Hmm, you might actually have some fun here, Des. With that thought, you knocked sharply on her door, hearing her voice come to a halt before she murmured a short apology and goodbye, followed by a short silence and then the rhythmic, steady click of her heels as she approached the other side of the wooden barrier. 

#michelle's works #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #principal larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems

[godisshook]

Team Player

David is my hero, the quarterback of the team, the top of his class, and the most popular guy on campus by far. I aspired to be like him, which is why I joined the team in the first place. Everything I did was to get his attention, and I was pumped for our first game of the semester, even though we were up against one of the best teams in the conference.

A blur of plays and calls followed, and in the chaos of the game, time seemed to pass by in an instant. With adrenaline flowing through me, I tried to make a field goal that would at least tie us with them. It was supposed to be my greatest moment, but I missed it. We lost. The world had greyed out from around me, as the rival team cheered their victory, and teammates patted my back for a good effort, I could only stand, motionless. Finally gathering myself, I looked around for David, hoping to explain myself to him, or at least absolve myself of shame, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Giving up, I headed to the locker room with the rest of the team.

My teammates broke into a cacophony in the locker room, "You're in trouble, newbie!" One teammate said in the far back. "I'm jealous, we didn't even lose my first year," another said. Owen, our center, whispered to me, "If you don't want to I'm down to swap!" Completely confused about what anyone was talking about, I asked Owen incredulously, "What the hell do you mean, and where's David?" I saw surprise and then amusement cross over Owen's face, as he replied under his breath, "Well, when we lose, David makes the newbie suck his cock, it's his way of blowing off steam." My eyes widened as complete and utter shock came over me, and I stammered, "Wha-" Before I could even get my question out, Owen spoke again, "Now you don't have to of course, and as I said before, I'm completely down to swap, I haven't had the chance to in ages!"

As the locker room cleared out, I was left alone with my thoughts. I looked up the address on the piece of paper; it was clearly David's place. My crush on him had started since freshman year, and if there was even a chance I could take it further, I had to take it. I contemplated my options; I go to his place and have a chance to give my crush a BJ, or swap and potentially regret it for the rest of my college life. Confronted with this; I made the obvious choice and was met by David as I got to his house. Within seconds, we were upstairs, and he pressed his lips into mine as we kissed. It was as if I was in a dream, and with my brain short-circuiting, I couldn't even question why this was his way of blowing off steam after a loss.

He pulled down his shorts, revealing his massive cock, and as my eyes widened, he let out a slight chuckle. Getting on my knees, I looked up at David for any further direction, to which he simply looked at me, and then his dick. Taking the hint, I slowly started sucking his cock, my tongue swirling around his tip as he grunted in pleasure. My heart was racing, "I really am sucking him off," I thought, as I continued. Suddenly, David took my head in his hands, pushed me into his cock, and moved my head back and forth, faster and faster. "Fuck, Fuckkk, Fuckkkk," David said in a low grunt as if he was holding back. In a moment, cum gushed from his tip, filling my throat as he pressed my head deeper.

I had thought David was done ravaging me, but he kept going, cumming all over my face. Now thoroughly done with me, he pulled his shorts back up, clearly finished. He threw a towel in my direction, which landed squarely on my face. It felt as if I was being hurried out like he was finished with me. I shouldn't feel sad right now; I just got to suck off the hottest guy I know. People would kill for the chance that I had, yet I still contemplated pushing things further. Deep within me, I didn't want things to end; I wanted more. In a flurry of emotion, I yelled, "Fuck you! How are you going to make me suck you off and not fuck me?"

My words were met with silence.

It seemed like I had crossed an invisible line, gone past the point of no return; I just didn't know the consequences. I kept my gaze on him, not breaking eye contact. With just a look he could make you cum, and he knew it. His expression darkened with desire as he finally said, "Go to my room, now." The order sent a shiver down my spine, and as my gaze slowly averted down to his shorts, I noticed his cock once again bulging in it. Unable to even respond, I let out a gulp, nodded, and walked to his room.

As his chain dangled over me, I could feel each rhythmic thrust, a mark of his many past sexual conquests. It was pure ecstasy; my dreams had come true. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he continued pressing into me, holding me close as his cock went deeper and deeper. As I could feel him pound into me, He had ravaged me completely. "I really just fucked my hero," I thought to myself, a smile coming over me. "After that, I might want us to lose again," David said with a smirk. Nestling myself in his arms, I replied, "How about we do it when we win instead?" Ruffling my hair, he simply answered, "New deal; I'll fuck you anytime."

#college guys #alpha muscle #campus files #football #athlete

[thatfreshi]

"Tough Crowd" (Uni AU P. 1)

Really embracing the catty queerness of these fuckers LMAO. Anyways, here's our little intro to Ravenguard Univeristy and Tav's living situation :)

Tw - mention of alcohol

@justporo (If you want me to tag you in part two, leave a comment!)

It's finally move-in day. After getting your Associate's degree at some small-town community college, you finally transferred to Ravenguard University, probably through sheer luck. Perhaps someone dropped out of the waitlist, but you're here now, moving into the place that'll be your home for the upcoming semesters. Soon enough you're asked for your name, and given the key to your room, quickly being ushered to the elevators. The volunteering students are clearly stressed by all the newcomers, so you don't exactly blame them for seeming impersonal.

You read your key, which has deemed you to be in room 717. Sneaking your way over to the floor buttons, you lightly tap 7, and place yourself in one of the empty corners of the elevator. After dropping off a few strangers on lower floors, you finally get to your destination, and find your dorm room shortly after. When you unlock the door, you immediately hear arguing.

"I need the room with the desk! I have far too many exams to study for. Besides, you don't seem like the studying type anyways."

Two women are yelling at each other, one with jet-black hair and the other with piercing eyes and an intimidating demeanor.

"We're all here to study fool."

"Well, as far as I know, you don't want to be a doctor. Besides, aren't you just here as an athlete? Or, my bad, were here as an athlete?"

At this point the ginger is fuming, fists clenched, but simply takes the room they were arguing over and slams the door, locking it immediately. The med student slams her fist on the door.

"Just wait til I tell the RA about this Lae'zel!"

She sighs, clearly still trying to let go of her anger. When she turns from the closed door, she finally realizes you're standing there.

"Sorry about that. Roommate problems, am I right?"

The pale woman nervously chuckles. Dressed in all black, she looks ready for a funeral, well if funerals were comfy and full of college students.

"Uh, yeah. Please don't tell me you're going to be arguing like this every night."

"Well, her and I don't particularly get along. I'm surprised housing even let us be in the same room after how many issues we've had. Though I'm sure I'll learn to tolerate her better in our living situation."

The woman ponders the thought for a moment, and then her eyes light up.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Shadowheart, and yes my parents are hippies. Most people call me Shadow since it's less cringe."

"Well, nice to meet you. Please tell me there's a room I can snag that you aren't fighting about."

"Oh, go down the hall and to the right. That one has a bigger wardrobe, but Lae and I both really wanted the desk."

Your phone vibrates, with a notification from some online magazine.

'Szarr: The Seven Models Behind the Magic'

"Why has this man been doing so many interviews?"

Shadowheart's ears perk up.

"You know Szarr, that fashion guy right? He's been all over the news, I cannot escape it."

"Oh. You may want to be careful how you talk about him. One of his precious prodigies goes here. Kind of a bitch honestly."

She makes a fake throw-up noise, rolling her eyes.

"Wait. One of his models goes here? I assumed they were all full-time."

"He's full-time alright. I've never seen Astarion pause for anything other than himself. Anyways, I suppose I need to unpack my things IN THE ROOM WITHOUT A DESK."

Shadowheart yells the last part loud enough for Lae'zel to hear, which coerces a groan from her behind the locked door. And just like that, she's locked away in her own room, leaving you with the room at the end of the hall. At least it has the nice wardrobe? You put on some music and start to unpack all your bags, soaking in the space. It leaves some to be desired, but you're excited nonetheless. You're woken from the trance however when there's a very loud knock at your dorm door. You wait for a moment, hoping one of the other two will get it, but the knocking simply continues obnoxiously. Making your way to the front door with a scowl on your face, you throw it open.

"Floor meeting in thirty minutes. If you or any of your roommates are late, I'll kill you."

You're met with the topic of your previous conversation: Astarion. While you aren't necessarily into fashion, you've seen so much about this guy as of recent, mostly from people thirsting on Twitter. You almost laugh, knowing Shadowheart will be pissed when she hears that he's the RA for their floor. He doesn't wait for you to respond and simply walks down to the next room. After closing the door, you call for your new gossipy friend.

"Oh Shadow, I have wonderful news!"

She opens her door and leans in the frame.

"Please tell me I heard that voice wrong."

"Nope. I guess if you want to complain about Lae'zel, you'll have to see your favorite person!"

She lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. I guess I'll just deal with her. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

You knock on Lae'zel's door to tell her about the meeting, but you're simply met with a yell of 'I know!'

"Geez, tough crowd."

"She's the toughest crowd you'll meet. Don't ever try to impress her, you'll die trying."

Shadowheart gives you this slice of advice while putting her hair in a black claw clip.

The next thirty minutes pass by quickly as you decorate the walls of your room. Posters, little pieces of art, pictures of friends from home. When you leave the room to go to the floor meeting, you're met with the overlapping voices of everyone from floor seven, clearly annoyed that they have to be here. You and Shadowheart sit on a couch in the common area, and Lae'zel stands off to the side.

"Okay, I'm going to make this quick."

The room gets quiet quickly as Astarion speaks up, pushing his shades down his nose slightly so he can make intense eye contact with anyone who interrupts him.

"I'm your RA for the year. No, I will not answer your calls. If I'm sleeping, you better not wake me up. I do not care if you have an air fryer in your room, but if you burn down the university I will be pissed. To make it entirely clear, I'm only doing this to make a little extra cash, so do not expect me to be, how do you say... present."

The room is silent, both pleased that he doesn't seem to care and entirely annoyed by his attitude.

"Any questions?"

Once again, no one speaks.

"Great! If you truly need something, I would suggest you go to the RA on floor eight, my wonderful friend Gale, as he actually cares about the well-being of strangers. Good day!"

The large group mutters as they all make their way back to their rooms. Shadowheart turns to whisper to you.

"Oh Gale fucking hates him, and I guarantee you he didn't sign off on being the RA of two floors. Can't wait to see that catfight."

You laugh at her comment, not noticing the white-haired man approaching the two of you.

"Shadowheart."

"Astarion."

"Who's your new friend?"

She then realizes she never actually asked your name.

"Tav. It's Tav."

Astarion makes a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"Fascinating. Well Tav, how would you like to be my plus-one to a party tonight? I would ask our emo queen here, but I'm sure she has some sulking and studying to do already."

"And I thought you'd be selling out on another Instagram post, but I guess you just really love bothering people. Have fun though, if you even know how to do that."

And with that comment. Shadowheart is back off to her room, most likely to sulk and study like Astarion said.

"Ugh, don't mind her. She just doesn't understand the hustle. Anyways, Tav was it? You seem like just the kind of person I'd love to silently drink champagne with."

You're silent for a moment, unsure if he really is as bad as Shadowheart makes him out to be.

"The champagne is free by the way."

What better way to sell a broke college student on a night out?

"Alright, guess I'm in."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #au #shadowheart #lae'zel #astarion #gale of waterdeep #freshiau

[mappingthesky]

"just let me take care of you" for ✈️🍌, pleeaaaseeee!!!

Jane is curled up on one end of the couch with a book in her hands. She’s read the same paragraph four or five times now, and would really like to move on to the next one, except she can’t, because-

UUGgghh!

“Oh my god,” Jane’s head hits the arm of the couch when she throws it back in frustration. “What?”

From the other end of the sofa, beyond where their legs are intertwined, Nymphia groans at her laptop screen. She’s uncharacteristically disheveled: her long hair is pulled into a messy, bumpy ponytail, and she’s wearing her glasses, which almost never happens. Not nearly enough for Jane’s liking, anyway. The black frames are thick and rounded and perched perfectly on her button nose, and if she wasn’t being so annoying right now then Jane would find her absolutely, irresistibly delicious.

“It’s all wrong,” Nymphia whines, pushing her stupid, sexy glasses up to nest in her hair while she rubs her eyes with her palms. The laptop, the source of her misery for the last two and a half weeks, rocks in her lap.

“It’s not,” Jane rolls her eyes and rehashes this conversation for what must be the eighty-seventh time. “It’s fine. It’s great, even! It’s probably the best fucking artist statement anyone’s ever read in the entirety of their miserable lives. They should be so lucky!”

Nymphia whines and stretches, a sliver of skin peeking out at the edge of her t shirt when she lifts her arms over her head. Jane momentarily forgets whatever it is she’s supposed to be annoyed about.

“Can you proof it for me?” Nymphia says when she’s tugging her shirt back into place and reaching for her laptop. Jane groans at the request, and definitely not at the lack of exposed skin.

“Ugh, Nymph,” Jane pleads. “Again?”

It’s only days before Nymphia’s final assignment is due - a full collection of garments complete with a written artist’s statement. It’s all they’ve talked about for what feels like weeks on end. Jane hasn’t been nearly as annoyed as she says she is. In Jane’s eyes Nymphia is something like a magician, turning whatever she touches into something miraculous and profound. It’s the reason why she’s let their living room become a war zone, littered with bolts of fabric and stray ribbon and a pincushion that somehow seems to be underfoot no matter how far she hurls the thing. She doesn’t mind that much, not really. It’s only until the end of the semester. Besides, Jane loves having Nymphia around. She’d much rather have her working at home, where she can make sure she eats and sleeps and remembers to wash her face before bed. It’s better than having her cooped up in a studio across town all night, working too hard to remember to take care of herself. Plus, Jane loves to watch Nymphia work - when she loses herself in a sketch or in the draping of fabric and her hair starts to slip from her ponytail, and her glasses are sliding down her nose, and her tongue rests at the corner of her mouth-

“You’re so much better with writing than I am!” Nymphia wails. Her voice is whiny and desperate and Jane’s head is in the fucking gutter.

While Nymphia could produce an entire wardrobe in a matter of days, brilliantly tailored and united under some pristine vision that Jane can’t fathom how her girlfriend ever came up with, the artist statement has thoroughly stumped her. It’s a meager assignment, 500 words maximum describing the inspiration for the collection, and has been the bane of Nymphia’s existence for the past four days. Naturally, it’s become the bane of Jane’s existence too.

“Baby,” Jane begs. She’s enjoyed all this time at home with Nymphia, and she’s proud of her, truly, but she would really like her cheery, horny, reliably unfocused girlfriend back.

Nymphia’s bottom lip curls outwards and her eyes flutter. “Please?”

Jane blinks. Nymphia is a little too good at getting exactly what she wants out of her. The worst part is that she knows it.

“Fine,” Jane concedes through gritted teeth, tossing her book to the floor and sitting forward. Nymphia cheers and claps and leans close to grab Jane’s face, almost succeeding until-

“On one condition,” Jane holds her hand up before Nymphia’s lips can find her cheek.

“Anything,” Nymphia coos, like she expects Jane to go easy on her.

“This is the last of the work you do tonight,” Jane says firmly, watching Nymphia’s mouth twist with anxiety. “I mean it. I can’t fucking hear you whine anymore.”

Nymphia’s anxiety is all too quickly replaced with a devious smile, a practiced sort of coercion, “I thought you loved to hear me wh-“

“That’s beside the point,” Jane doesn’t budge. Nymphia is a tease, a very tempting tease, but a tease nonetheless. Jane knows this well enough, she’s fallen victim to her traps more times than she cares to admit. “Do we have a deal?”

Nymphia falls back to the other end of the couch with a defeated hrmph. “Deal” she pouts.

With that, Jane snatches the laptop. She reads Nymphia’s essay intently, because she really does care, making minor grammatical tweaks here and there. The piece is well written, even without the bit of fluffing Jane’s done over the past few days. Nymphia is absolutely selling herself short. It may not be her preferred medium, but her unique vision shines through her words just the same as it does with her clothing.

“What?” Nymphia asks when a small, proud smile tugs at Jane’s lips. “What is it?”

Jane beams, her eyes lingering on the last few sentences. “It’s perfect.”

Nymphia lights up, “You really think so?”

Mhm, Jane hums, looking over to Nymphia where she’s curled into the corner of the couch, grinning. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

“Okay, because I was thinking I could-“ Nymphia starts to ramble, but Jane has already hit ‘save’ and is slamming the laptop shut. Nymphia’s eyes widen.

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Jane places the laptop on the floor.

“Yes, but-“

“Uh-uh,” Jane shakes her head, leaning forward. “I think you’re done for the night.”

Nymphia could try to make an escape, but it would be pointless. They both know it. “I am?”

“Yeah, you are.” Jane grabs at Nymphia’s ankles, dragging her closer until she’s lying flat on her back. Her glasses slide down her nose.

Nymphia is still muttering something about picking the right font when Jane silences her with a gentle palm over her mouth.

“You’ve done more than enough,” Jane tells her. “Just let me take care of you. Can you do that?”

Nymphia nods, wide-eyed and suddenly breathless. Jane pulls her hand away from Nymphia’s mouth. “Good girl.”

Her other hand is already sliding beneath Nymphia’s t-shirt, grazing her bare skin. She goes to pull it over her head, and Nymphia reaches for her glasses.

“No,” Jane catches her hand, kissing her knuckles before pinning her wrist above her head. “Those stay on.”

#scREAM I LOVED THIS ONE #we never speak on nymphia’s glasses and its so disrespectful #thank you for this anon!! #planymphia #she writes #prompt

[surftrips]

butterflies — part six.

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: after returning home from college for the summer, y/n runs into rafe cameron and the two form an unlikely relationship.

word count: ~ 1000

a/n: i was listening to taylor swift’s lover album while writing this which will become very obvious towards the end haha. only a few more chapters left! masterlist.

Rafe’s not even sure how Emma came back into his life. He’s convinced one of his frat brothers saw him moping around and called her up, assuming (incorrectly) that he was still hung up on her.

In reality, Rafe was still trying to get over you and how everything went down. It wasn’t ideal, and he was miserable on most days, but he still believed that leaving you alone was the best thing he could’ve done.

That is, until he found out that Emma had been lying to him.

To backtrack, she had simply showed up at the golf course one day to announce that she was in town for the week. 

“Emma? What are you doing here?” he had asked.

“My father’s here on business, thought I would tag along. Maybe see a familiar face… and I was right,” she winked. 

Rafe could hardly believe it. Here was this girl who had broken his heart, reentering his life as he was going through yet another heartbreak. 

But heartbreak makes one lonely, and it was unfair for him to refuse Emma’s company under the premise that he was “taken” by you, because he wasn’t. Rafe knew he had to move on eventually, he just wasn’t expecting to do it with his ex-girlfriend. 

She’s only staying for a week, Rafe thought to himself. It’s totally fine that she’s sleeping over. And we’re going out to eat together. And people on the island are starting to speculate. 

To make things clear, Rafe and Emma are not sleeping together. They’re not even holding hands. The furthest they’ve gotten is a side hug and the occasional hand brush, courtesy of Rafe’s boundary settings. He would probably die if you saw him and Emma out in public being touchy with each other. As for everyone else in town, he didn’t care who saw or what they thought. 

Even after a month, you were still the only person in town he cared about. 

Unfortunately for him, and maybe purposefully by Emma, one week became two. Two became three. Soon, she had her own place at the Cameron dinner table. 

“So, are you like Rafe’s girlfriend now?” Wheezie asked Emma once. 

Rafe coughed, “Oh, no-”

At the same time, Emma responded, “Actually, I was his girlfriend last semester. We just took a little break, didn’t we, Rafe?” 

Emma smiled sweetly at Rafe, who, refusing to start any discourse in front of his family, simply nodded. 

Sarah was frowning. 

—

Later that night, Rafe revisited the conversation Emma had with Wheezie at the dinner table. 

“Listen, Emma, I don’t know what we are or even what we’re doing right now, but I don’t think it’s dating. Do you?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t think we’re just friends either. There’s too much history between us,” she said. 

“But that’s just it,” Rafe sat up. “It’s too much history to get past, how are we supposed to just move on like nothing happened? How am I supposed to move on like you didn’t break my heart?” 

“Rafe, I’m here now,” Emma said quietly. “I’m sorry I hurt you, you know I loved you.” 

“Did you? Did you love me or did you love being with me?” Rafe’s voice was growing louder, he couldn’t help it. “Because when push came to shove, you didn’t fight for me. You let me go.” 

“Look, are you talking about that guy you saw me with after the breakup? Because he meant nothing to me, he was just a rebound.” 

“Great, like that makes me feel better. Emma, what are you really doing back here?” Rafe sighed. 

“I missed you,” she murmured. “I didn’t actually expect to see you when I came here with my dad, but I really, really wanted to. And when I did, I was so happy, I didn’t know how to approach the situation. I just want to be back in your life.” 

Rafe felt as though the universe was playing a trick on him. A few months ago, he would’ve hung on every last word that came from Emma’s lips. Now, they all sounded like empty promises and half-hearted lies. 

“You deserve better,” was what you had told him at the beginning of the summer. He didn’t believe you then, but it seemed so much clearer now. 

“Emma, I can’t do this again. You know it’s not going to end well,” Rafe began.

“Is this because of Y/N?” Emma interrupted. 

“What? How do you know Y/N?” Rafe felt his heartbeat quickening at the mention of your name. 

Emma stammered, “I-I heard Wheezie and Sarah talking about her.” 

Now, Rafe knew Emma was lying. Ever since your fight, his sisters had been careful not to mention your name around the house. 

“Please, no more lies.” 

“Fine,” Emma’s features hardened. “She may or may not have called you.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Anger was now radiating from Rafe. “When?” 

“Like last week, I don’t know,” her voice trailed off.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“I didn’t think it was important!” she said defensively. 

“It’s not up to you to decide what’s important and what’s not!” Rafe put his hands up to his face in frustration, looking around for his phone.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m calling her back,” he said. “You should leave. Goodbye, Emma.” 

“Rafe-” 

“I’m serious. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

The two were quiet for a moment. Rafe trying to stabilize his heart rate and Emma trying to gather her thoughts. 

“Fine, I’ll leave. But can I ask you one last thing?” She looked on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you love her?” 

Rafe used to think love was burning red: violently passionate, ready to explode at any given time. But he was wrong, it’s golden, like daylight. 

“I think I do.” 

And for the first time in a long time, he smiled, a real and true Rafe Cameron smile. The one that you had fallen in love with.

—

TAGLIST: @holy-macncheese-balls @everythingmarveltopgun @maybankslover @totallynotkaibiased @allsmilesreally7 @kys4-20 @golden-tangled-earphone @siesie2 @palmwinemami (let me know if you want to be added!)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x you #butterflies fic

[itsrainingbubbles]

Lawlu in highschool in art class

Law is in there just to get his art credit and Luffy is in there just because he thought it would be fun

Halfway through the semester law becomes Luffy's boyfriend and kills any chance law had at having a peaceful highschool experience

The art class is very important to this because I need Luffy drawing unrecognizable pictures and law having absolutely no clue what the hell he drew but by the end of the year law can immediately tell what Luffy was trying to draw and idk that just sounded cute to me

Luffy making drawings of him and law holding hands and kissing and going on dates and law having no clue what he drew. Luffy would pout but wouldn't tell him what it was he drew

In the beginning of the year law would be all like "how am I supposed to know what those scribbles are?" Or simply not acknowledge the drawing that was shoved in his face, he'd just glance at it and set it aside

Then when they become friends and law starts liking Luffy he'd try to kinda guess what he drew and he would think Luffy's pout was cute but he also wants to get it right for him

Then he starts to be able to tell and he's like 'oh', and Luffy smiles so wide and laughs and tells law he's been drawing the same things all semester

#monkey d. luffy #one piece #trafalgar law #lawlu

[agentmarvel]

Pairing: John Price/Reader

AU - Professor!Price & TA!Reader

MDNI - 18+ (minors and ageless blogs WILL BE BLOCKED)

Part 2 of 2 (part 1 here)

Read on ao3

♡

Kate Laswell is the only person John tells about you. It’s her guidance he seeks when he realizes how far up the creek without a paddle he is. Figures you have your confidant, he may as well assume his own. He’s known her longer than anyone else, and he knows she knows all the loopholes, since she faced a vaguely similar situation a few semesters before. All worked out well for her, so there’s hope for him, too, right?

John sits in her office, door locked and lights off. It’s safer that way; far less potential for eavesdroppers and interruptions.

“Oh, you’re in deep on this one, Price,” Kate chides with a grin over the edge of her coffee mug.

“That’s putting it mildly. What am I supposed to do here, Kate? It feels like every decision I make is wrong.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me about her,” she implores as she takes a sip, a soft smile etched into her fine-lined features.

He ponders for a moment on where to start, but when the dam breaks, it all just spills out. Nothing and everything, all at once. He tells Kate how fucking beautiful he thinks you are, all the things he absolutely adores about you, even the tiny little details, like your stupid red pen and the time he saw you yell at a vending machine on a bad day. He tells her about the way you work so well with students, and how helpful you are to him; what a stellar conversationalist you are, but how well you listen as well. He tells her about how you always make him laugh, how reassuring and kind and caring you are, how you really are every single thing he’s ever wanted rolled into one singular being, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that very thing since -

“You’re falling in love, aren’t you?”

“Aw, hell, Kate… What kind of pubescent horseshit - ”

“Answer the question, John.”

“Kate - “

“Yes or no, Price.” Her voice is firm but friendly, telling him to cut the shit and at least consider the possibility.

In a stunned silence, John sits with his thoughts for a moment, eyes locked on Kate as she cocks an eyebrow. He thinks back on his short-lived first marriage, how that the military was both the beginning and end of it. Felt more like convenience and holding off loneliness in his time between deployments than it ever did truly being in love. The second, while lasting exponentially longer, also felt equally as devoid. While he cared for that second wife on some level, it didn’t quite reach the depth of how he feels now, how he feels about you. If neither bout rang of actual, genuine emotional connection, then he can say with absolute honesty that, no, John Price has never really been in love. Not until now.

Everything around him seems to slow to a stop. He can no longer hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, only the rhythmic pounding in his chest. It’s like a switch is flicked, and the lightbulb in his head brightens until it bursts, sending fragments flying into every corner. He’s not stupid enough to try to touch that filament, so he allows it to settle. In a haze of falling glass, suddenly it all makes sense to him again. A revelation that he can’t tamp down now that it’s been put into words.

“...yeah, I think I am.”

Every nerve in his body is alight, begging him to scream it from the rooftops, make sure the whole world knows. 

He can’t yet, but he wants to.

“Christ,” he mutters instead, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve gone and fucked all this up, haven’t I?”

“Perhaps,” Kate muses, tucking an errant blonde strand behind her ear before folding her empty hands together on the desktop. “I mean, you did reject the poor girl at a very opportune - not to mention vulnerable - moment…” She sighs. “But I don’t think you’re completely beyond the realm of forgiveness. Find the right way to apologize to her, and she may start to let you back in.”

He’s unusually hesitant. Apologies have never been his strong suit. He’s painfully headstrong, rarely wrong and rarer to admit, so this is new territory. Mentally, he ticks off all the clichés, like flowers or a box of chocolates with a little card of a briefly expressed remorse or a surprise picnic where he spills his guts to you in hopes of some form of clemency. He wants to plan something bigger, more grandiose, more romantic, but Kate interjects before he can even begin.

“I can see the gears turning. Stop overthinking it, John. Just buy the girl some damn flowers, and tell her you’re sorry.”

♡

He did it. Bought you flowers, that is. Early this morning, he picked up a big fall arrangement in a stunning crystal vase. Took him way too fucking long to choose and he was almost late, but John’s pretty sure it’ll all be worth the look on that gorgeous face of yours when you see it. He takes his time placing it perfectly on your desk, giving you the fullest view upon first sight, and he tucks a little white envelope under the edge of the glass. 

It took quite a bit of time for him to even write the note inside. He wanted to convey how he feels without dragging out a full confession of just how hopelessly head-over-heels he is; that goal seemed to fall short beneath the tip of the pen as he all but outright tells you he loves you in neatly corded letters. The words on the page felt sufficient at the time, and he has to shut himself in his office to stop himself from second guessing to the point of re-writing it or just throwing it away period.

When the light kicks on in your office a few minutes after the start of his day, John feels his stomach flip. He hears a striking thud and a gasp of ‘aww’, and he’s cursing inwardly that he just had to have a student come in right at 8:00. After a few beats of silence, he hears a couple sniffles, and it has him a bit worried. Mr. Garrick would probably be understanding if he wanted to pop in and check on you, but he continues to talk to John like he doesn’t notice it, even if his expression softens just a little and his eyes dart to the side each time he hears it, too.

“So, does this mean you’re looking forward to finishing it?” John asks in earnest. Kyle had been quite vocal all semester about how much he was looking forward to exploring Stephen King’s Carrie, especially with it falling right around Halloween. It’s been a long time since John’s seen anyone but you get excited about his choice novels, even if they do tend to change every year.

“I actually, uh, finished it last week,” Kyle admits shyly. “Honestly, I just couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t just stop at her turning around to go home after all the shit she blew up! I needed to know what happened next, so I read ahead.”

Well, there’s no way John can be upset about that. It’s not every day one of these kids expressed interest in anything they’re reading. More often than not, they bitch about the amount of reading - if they even do it, that is. He can always tell the students that use Cliffs Notes or Sparknotes instead of actually doing the reading. So, the fact that Kyle, even just one student, is genuinely enjoying it - no, genuinely looking forward to reading more - seems to make all the work John’s put into this semester worth the while.

They go back and forth for a while, discussing the thematic elements and John details the rationale behind the novel’s subsequent banning in a majority of American schools. It’s a long geekfest between the two of them, and the only disruption is Mr. Garrick’s sudden realization that he’d stayed far too long and was late for his class.

“Thanks again, Professor Price!” he chirps, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’m really looking forward to what’s next!”

He darts out of the room, practically slamming the door behind him. John cringes as the latch bounces into the frame, and he sighs heavily, grateful for today’s break in his normally hectic schedule. Only two students on his books today; one of which is already out of the way, the other not until this afternoon. Gives him time to do more overthinking while he waits for you to free up. 

Settling himself further into his chair, John logs into his desktop and starts inputting grades from last week. Keeping his hands busy will help in keeping his mind busy, considering the small second voice in your office. From the sounds of it, it’s Ms. Graves.

It fascinates him, the way the two of you interact. You speak with her much differently than the other students who occupy your days without classes. There’s a much more candid sense of honesty, and he’s never heard either of you speak with such raw enthusiasm.

“What about ’Lullaby’ by the Cure?” he hears Pia ask.

“Good choice; how about Echo & the Bunnymen’s ‘the Killing Moon’?” you respond. He hears a hum of consideration, a few exchanged whispers - and some laughter - and that gets his attention.

Yeah, fuck it. He’s too invested in eavesdropping now to continue to pretend to be busy.

He hears the exchange of several more artists: the Cramps, Electric Light Orchestra, Prince, Oingo Boingo, the Doors, Bowie, Blondie, Siouxsie and the Banshees; all of which strike him with a baton of nostalgia. Lots of favorites in there, especially music he enjoyed growing up; some of his father’s top choices, too.. He’s only marginally impressed that the two of you can volley like this; you do enjoy 90s boy bands, after all. Bound to know plenty, eh?

Speaking of which, he hears Pia thank you for your suggestions. Her backpack rattles as he’s sure she’s tossing it on her shoulder, and he hears your office door close. He’s pretty certain you’ll have another appointment coming in soon, so he takes the opportunity to pop over.

“What was that about?” he asks from the now open doorway, expression curious. You look up from your laptop and smile more sincerely than he’s observed in a while, and John sees that big bouquet sitting front and center on your desk. That stirs his stomach and wakes the butterflies, fresh from the cocoons he’d tried to build over the weekend. They flutter this way and that, and he’s filled with a renewed desire to kiss you; one that never wanes, but ebbs and flows in intensity. Right now? Oh, right now, he wants to so god damn bad…

“Pia learns better with music. She listens while she reads, and it helps her remember the content when she listens to it again. Her grade has improved a lot since we started making playlists together.”

It sends a wave of warmth through his chest, the thought that you’ve been doing this for a few weeks. You’re arguably more dedicated to his students than he is at times, which says quite a bit. He’s pretty sure the look on his face matches up to those cartoons a lot of his students watch - what’s it called? Oh! Anime! He looks like every character that’s ever seen food or a pretty girl - heart eyes, pink cheeks, and an open mouth bordering on drooling.

“We sit down together at the start of every unit and make a playlist that matches the decade. Helps keep her centered in the story and prevents overlap so no information bleeds over from another book. It’s remarkable, reading her work and seeing her test scores; she’s really flourishing, Professor Price.”

John’s awestruck.

“Oh! Can I ask a favor?” Your inquiry draws his eyebrow up, implying you may ask. “Would you be willing to let her listen to music during the final? I’m willing to go old school, if you’re worried she’ll cheat; I have an old iPod at home that I can load up with the music, and we can keep it locked in your office until then. You’re welcome to go through it, too, just to make sure nothings hidden or anything. I just really - “

“Hey,” John says softly, effectively silencing you. “If you think she’ll do better being allowed to listen to music, we can make that work, love. I trust your judgment.”

If the incoming is any indicator, the flowers were the right call. You’re thawing, spring seemingly on its way, and Price will have to send Kate some sort of gift of gratitude.

You leap from your desk, and the next thing he knows, you’re throwing your arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze. He doesn’t register what’s happening in time to wrap himself around you, palms rising to meet you a beat too slow, and he finds himself missing the warmth radiating from your skin as you step back just as quickly. Your hands clasp in front of your chest, and you’re positively beaming.

“Thank you, Professor! I… We really appreciate it. Pia is going to be so happy!”

He can’t fight off the smile on his face. It’s absolutely adorable when you get excited; you’re wearing the same expression as the day he agreed to dance with you. He refuses to let this end the same way, so he takes a different path.

“She seems different with you,” he notes aloud. “Definitely not the same Ms. Graves I see in class.”

“Oh, I, uh… I know her pretty well outside of class. I… dated her brother for a while when I was doing my undergrad work.” You don’t seem too pleased to admit the latter, judging by your expression and the sudden appearance of nerves. He’d be lying if he said he was pleased to hear it. His stomach gnarls itself at the mere thought of you being with anyone else. To consider that someone else has kissed you, touched you, made love to you; that’s enough to make him crazy if he dwells on it too long. 

Don’t get him wrong, he’s under no illusion that you’re some sort of saint, even if just the sound of your voice is pure heaven. You’ve spoken about your dating history before, though it’s typically just in overheard fragments to Mr. MacTavish.

“How long?” He wants to clap a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. The words came out, and he can’t take them back or play it off like he isn’t actually curious. Instead, he stays still, hoping the look on his face reads as if this is friendly conversation and not him prying where he oughtn’t.

You seem surprised by his question, and his blood floods with panic.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he quickly throws out, raising his hands. “I’m so sorry; that was inappropriate.”

“Two years.” You shrug like it’s nothing, and John swallows his gum by accident. He wasn’t expecting that. Maybe a few dates, a couple months tops, but two years? Doesn’t seem possible for a guy like Phillip Graves to sustain a relationship that long, given his penchant for obnoxiously blatant flirtation and his wandering gaze, practically eye-fucking anything with a pulse.

"What happened?" Fuck it. He's going to be a Nosy Nellie. It’s selfish and shady, but he can learn a lot from this. Come hell or high water, he swears he’ll treat you better. He’ll take the lessons learned from lesser men’s fallacies (and/or women’s; he’s got some questions after the last conversation he eavesdropped on between you and Johnny).

“He couldn’t seem to stop flirting with other people, and I’m pretty sure he loved his car more than he ever loved me.” Your laugh is dry and humorless, but your wry smile does extend to your eyes. That tells him you’re over it. The hurt you may have felt when it happened doesn’t linger. Good news for John.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies, trying his best to be sympathetic. You shrug again.

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t still feel bad that it happened. You deserve better than that.”

He wants to tell you what you really deserve; how you deserve a man, not a man-child. You deserve a man who’s going to take good care of you, worship you, love you selflessly. Someone who will make you breakfast, warm up your car for you in the winter, hold your hand every chance they get. Someone who only has eyes for you. Someone like John.

But he can’t say that, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I do,” you agree with a nod. “Know someone who wants to treat me right?”

You say it with a laugh, and John smiles hesitantly, choosing his next words carefully.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

“Oh, yeah? Anybody I know?” It’s coy and cute. You know exactly what he means; he has a feeling you just want to hear him say it. I’d treat you right, honey. Let me show you. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, giving you a look that feels way too suggestive for the current environment.

“Yeah. I think you know him pretty well, actually,” he shrugs, nonchalantly holding his expression. “He’d be good to you.”

“Well, slip him my number, would ya? I could do with a nice date night soon.” You throw him a wink before turning back to your laptop, and John slowly slinks back into his office. Before he can close the door, you call for him again. He pops his head back in and sees his white envelope held up between your index and middle fingers, the flap torn open.

“Thank you for the flowers, sir. They’re beautiful.”

♡

There’s a rule in film: if you mention a gun in the first act, it must go off in the second. That’s not directly how the quote itself goes and this most certainly isn’t a film, but it still rings true.

It was only a matter of time before the proverbial gun went off, now that Price has inquired into your history with Phillip Graves. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon, though. Only a week passes before the soon-to-be-graduate rears his ugly little head.

“Oh, feminism, huh?”

The voice comes from your office, sultry and low, just barely within a range for John to hear it. His skin prickles, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He knows that voice; it’s the very one that’s haunted him for days now, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and holding you close in a way John is desperate to, but cannot yet. It’s Graves, the little prick, and that makes him nauseous.

You’re trying your hardest to explain the running theme of feminism in Carrie with the unit coming to a close, and Phillip’s ignoring the help you offer in favor of instead taking certain liberties with twisting everything you say into some sort of line or innuendo. Like that would ever work on you; you’re too smart not to see through that bullshit. You shut him down every time and ask him to focus on the material so you don’t have to deal with him next semester.

Still, it wrenches John’s gut in a way that bleeds him of his patience. He meant it when he said you deserve better than Phillip, and after the things you told him, there’s no fucking way he’s letting that weasel worm his way back in. You would never, he knows, but he doesn’t want Phillip having even the slightest sliver of hope.

Before he can stop himself, he’s knocking at the dividing door.

“Come in,” you call sweetly. He opens the door and sticks his head in, plastering the kindest, fakest smile on his face. You return the look as Graves sucks at his teeth, looking markedly impatient and making his irritation known.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” John says, syrup seeping into his tone. “But I think I might have accidentally deleted my gradebook. Can I borrow you for two quick seconds?”

“Of course,” you answer, tone laced with a bit more haste than either man apparently anticipated. “Excuse me just a moment, Mr. Graves. I’ll be right back in.”

You stand and push in your chair, making John’s stomach leap in the process. You’ve got on that burnt orange corduroy skirt that hugs your hips the way he’d someday like his hands to do and a plain, black, long sleeve top that matches the cling. It does nothing to disguise your perfect figure, his ideal figure, thrusting his erratically-beating heart into his throat entirely involuntarily. He never forgets how beautiful you are, not even for a second, but the visual reminders are always welcome.

He can feel the relief rolling off you in waves. Your expression stays neutral as you smooth out your skirt. There’s a gentle sway in your steps as you round the desk and follow John into his office. As he closes the door gently, you bee-line for his computer. A few clicks, and you look to him over your shoulder, perplexed, while he moves to stand behind you.

“Professor, your gradebook is fine. It’s right here.” You point at the monitor, and John nods.

“I know.”

“Then why - “ 

The words die on your tongue as John’s hands delicately close around the curve of your jaw. He hears the softest hitch in your breathing as he leans forward, half-lidded eyes searching your expression for any indicator that you want him to stop. He owes you that much.

“I should’ve done this weeks ago,” he murmurs, stroking a thumb across your cheek.

“John, what are you - “

His lips crash into yours, mouths meshing together like pieces of a puzzle, a perfect fit. It feels like centuries he’s waited for this moment, and the fire it spurs in his soul feels only comparable to the sun, licking up his throat like a solar flare.

You’re hesitant at first, rightfully so, but it doesn’t last long before that flame of desire kindles within you, and you melt into him, body molding to his. A particular breadth of warmth spreads across his chest as your hands come to rest against it. The tips of your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, twisting it in your fist as you tug him impossibly closer. He’ll take the time to map and memorize every inch of you when he isn’t so consumed by the way you move in tandem without faltering as you become so wholly entangled with each other.

As his arms ensnare your waist in a vise-like hold, one of your hands, so soft and kind, nails painted a pretty shade of plum, threads itself into his hair. John has to bite down to stop himself from outright moaning into your mouth, the favored fantasy that often played out while he masturbated seemingly coming to life just in one movement. Your lower lip somehow gets trapped between his teeth, though, and you are the one to moan, hushed and soft, just for him to hear. 

Fuck, if that doesn’t fuel the fire inside his abdomen. He’ll do anything, any-fucking-thing, to hear that sound again and again and again.

He walks you backwards until he feels the edge of his desk pressing against your backside. The hold he had on your waist is abandoned in favor of assuming a sturdy grip on the back of your soft thighs. No warning is given when he suddenly lifts you, depositing you on the top of his desk. He slots himself between your knees and leans over you, still wrapped in this heated exchange. The tip of your tongue flickers against his only briefly, and it makes him borderline feral with want.

Your thighs get one little squeeze before John lands one hand on your back and the other just below your ear. He guides you down until he’s practically laying on top of you. Instinct guides your legs to hitch over his hips, and he’s well aware that you can feel the growing bulge in his slacks pressing up against your covered center. He ruts into you feverishly and mindlessly, desperately chasing another of those sweet little noises.

He almost whines when he feels you pulling away from him, mouths separating only for you to press your forehead against his. There’s an attempt to reconnect on his behalf, but you decline with the softest whisper of his name.

“John, there’s still a student in my office.” He can feel the smile on your lips as he moves to your neck. His lips seal over a spot where he can feel your pulse racing. It sends more blood south, having even the slightest inkling that you’re just as affected as he is, and he struggles to stave off the urge to rip a hole in the middle of your pantyhose and see just how affected you are.

“So?” he grunts, nose nudging your ear lobe as he lowers his voice more. “Let the little bastard sit there. Let him hear how a real man treats a fuckin’ prize like you.”

You swat his chest playfully, chiding him for encouraging you to shirk your responsibilities; the responsibilities assigned to you by him, no less. Your thighs squeeze his midsection again when you guide his face back to yours, stealing another peck before holding his gaze with a softer expression.

“He’s a nightmare, I know, but he’s still paying for a quality education. Just give me ten minutes to wrap this up, and I’m all yours.”

I’m all yours - those three simple words loop in his head, a phrase he’s ached for, longed to hear, for months. His heart clenches at the thought; summer nights on the porch swing, his hand on your thigh while he drives, letting you fall asleep on his chest. He wants it all. He wants every inch of love and affection you can offer and wants to give his in return. In this moment, the way you’re looking at him through your lashes, it’s so sorely tempting to say three different words back. He can’t yet, but he wants to.

“I hate to seem impatient, love, but I don’t think I can wait another ten minutes.” His thumb strokes across your cheek endearingly, and just beneath his finger tips, he can feel your heartbeat hammering away. “Don’t know how I ever lasted a minute without you now that I’ve got little taste of ya.”

You let him kiss you again, chaste and tender, a stark contrast to the frenzy he felt in the minutes before.

“You always been such a sweet-talker, Price?” you whisper with a grin, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. He huffs out a muted laugh, trying to stifle his amusement. “Keep it up, and I might just let you keep me.”

John’s quiet a moment, basking in your borderline ethereal glow, before he murmurs, “I like the sound of that.”

A beat passes, appreciative and intimate glances exchanged, the two of you sharing breath. Oh, how hard-pressed he is to move, to allow the contact to dissipate, to willingly let you out of his arms, his sight, to shoo away the little leech awaiting on the other side of the door. It’s unfathomable, in his mind. Months of waiting, weeks of agonizing, and now that he’s got you exactly where he wants you, he has to let you go for even a second? Inconceivable. Preposterous.

With a gentle palm against his chest, though, you manage to convince him. He wraps his fingers around yours and lifts himself off of you with a checked grunt. God, you look beautiful like this - splayed out across the top of his desk, skirt rucked up higher than would be decent to make room for his large frame to slot between your thighs, chest rising and falling steadily, though you still seem breathless. The sight alone requires him to reach down with his unoccupied hand and adjust his stiff length just to make the wait bearable.

He pulls you to your feet, still careful to keep you close to him. Graceful touches follow as he helps you right your hair and smooth out your clothing. When nothing wayward is left to stall, you press your lips to his one more time and turn on your heel, eyes promising a swift return as he plants himself back in his chair.

♡

It doesn’t go further than that for the remaining weeks of the semester, but that doesn’t mean Price isn’t counting down the days. While there’s still plenty of heated makeout sessions and aggressively building sexual tension, he finds other ways to show his affection in the interim; he brings you coffee every morning, walks you to your car after hours because it gets dark out far earlier in the winter, sets the heater in the lecture hall a few degrees higher than he’d like to ensure you’re comfortable throughout classes.

Restraint is gentlemanly. Just because he’s no longer deterring himself from chasing you doesn’t mean he’s willing to forgo all the rules. Though he’s following his heart down a path that leads straight to you, his stubbornness won’t allow him to jeopardize your future. Plausible deniability until you’re safely under the tutelage of another professor.

He discussed the transfer with you long before requesting it. You were surprisingly amenable to making the change once John made it clear that it wasn’t based on your performance. He adores you, admires the work you’ve put in for both him and his students, and he’d be remiss if he let you think for a second that you’ve been anything less than perfect.

No, no. He only broached the subject in hopes of fostering the seed you’d planted months ago. The little seed that is only now peeking through the topsoil. A burgeoning affair of the heart that he’s hoping to see blossom into something far more beautiful very soon, something you can grow together. He’s already fully committed to making sure it gets plenty of water and sunshine, but having you remain his TA would flood the garden and keep the skies cloudy. Nothing could flourish unhindered that way. 

That’s not quite how he phrased it to you, though. He still plays his cards close to his chest and has yet to confess the full extent of his feelings. You’ve off-handedly mentioned bits and pieces of your near future plans - plans that John’s certainly a part of - but any discussion about where your entanglement is headed beyond stolen kisses has been… unclear. He’s not a presumptuous man. It’s not his place to assume you’re on the same page, to assume you want an actual relationship with him.

So, to avoid the pressure of expectations or labels, he simply said, “I’d feel better about seeing where this goes if you were under another instructor. It would be unfair of me to ask you to wait another semester. You don’t deserve to be kept a secret, love.”

The request was put in shortly after, though Simon had already signed off on it over a week before John even mentioned it to you.

He only briefly second guesses that decision seeing you now, hovering in the doorway between offices. You look as beautiful as always, sporting a simple, sensible sweater dress that accentuates your delightfully buxom figure. What’s unusual is the mournful smile on your lips and the banker’s box in your hands.

Your watery eyes, swimming with unshed tears, scan over his office. You sigh heavily through your nose, biting your lip to stop it from quivering. John is immediately thrust into comfort mode, ready to soothe whatever savage beast has upset you so. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” he asks softly, pushing aside the last of the stack of final exams atop his desk. Those can wait a bit longer; another day if need be.

“Oh, nothing,” you answer, clearly willing your voice not to crack. “Just a little sad that this is the last day. I’m really going to miss my office.”

It’s the little sniffle that follows that makes his chest ache. He’s smart enough to read between the lines. This has nothing to do with your office.

Without thought, Price automatically pushes his chair back and stands, shortening the distance that separates you in just a few strides. He takes the box from your hands, setting it in the empty seat closest to you. You’re looking at the floor now, avoiding his gaze. A curled finger beneath your chin tilts your head back up and gives you to choice but to look at him. 

“Don’t you give me that nonsense,” he chides with a soft smile. “What is it really, darling? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A few stray tears fall between blinks, and John is quick to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. He’s sure you can see every ounce of worry etched into his features, even as much as he’s trying to mask it. 

“I’m scared, John.” The admission surprises him. “I don’t like change. I don’t like not knowing what to expect.”

“I promise you, my dear, everything is going to be perfectly fine. Professor Riley will take excellent care of you. He’s a wealth of knowledge; well-versed, brilliant. I trust him. As for your office, it’ll be exactly as you leave it any time you want to come visit.”

“It’s not just that,” you interject, chewing at the inside of your cheek. There’s something more on the tip of your tongue, and he tilts his head just enough to prompt you to say it. “I just… I won’t get to spend as much time with you, will I?”

Price frowns.

“You’ll have all the time you want with me. Needn’t but ask, and I’ll be right there.”

That’s not what he wants to say. What he wants is to tell you that he’d sooner have you planted in his lap every second of every day so he never has to be away from you, that he doesn’t particularly enjoy the thought of sharing your time with any other man for any period of time (even if it is just Simon), that he values every fleeting moment he spends with you over any material thing in existence...

“It’s not just about what I want, John,” you counter in a hushed, wobbly voice. “What do you want?”

He sighs, taking your pretty face in his large hands. His mind is racing through a rolodex of anything and everything he could possibly say to keep that more lax, collected façade he’s curated intact; but the second he feels another tear drip onto his hand, it all goes out the window. He asks you to look at him, and you do. You look up at him with those bright, kind, teary eyes, and any ounce of resolve or restraint left in John’s body crumbles to bits. He takes a long blink and just lets the words come out how they may, consequences be damned. 

“I want you. Whatever you’re ready for, whatever you’re willing to give, I just want you.”

Words are often said to carry weight; some far too heavy, some not quite so, but all with their own heft. Like rocks tied to the soul, his grandmother used to say. Choose them wisely, and use them with caution, lest you be burdened by the stones in your mind. But John Price has never felt so weightless and free as the moment a syrupy, surreptitious smile settles on his lips and he utters a phrase he didn’t ever anticipate using before even taking you on a proper date: “I love you.”

Your expression softens. Dumbstruck, your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Your eyes search through even the deepest recesses of his, looking for some sign of deception or jest, but there is none to be found. Never will be. Not with him.

After a few beats of silence, John clears his throat, admittedly a bit sheepish.

“You don’t have to say it back. Just couldn’t -”

“No, John, I-I… I love you, too.”

He doesn’t waste even a fraction of a second pulling you into him further for a searing kiss, one you melt into as soon as his lips meet yours. It’s nothing like the dozens of times he’s kissed you before; there’s nothing frantic or frenzied or feverish about it this time. True, it gets his heart racing all the same. His blood still sings with the same carnal cravings. But his mind and body do not share the driver’s seat this time. No, this time, his heart has the wheel.

It’s almost instantaneous, how hard he gets while just kissing you. Happens every time, but this is the first where he doesn’t feel such an innate need to hide it from you. He has nothing left to hide anymore.

You’re held there in a languid but torrid lip-lock until your fingers curl into the collar of his sweater, like you’re trying to pull him impossibly closer. The first little tug begs for more, and John takes a step forward to grant your wish, effectively backing you into the wall. The second tug draws his hands downward, skating oh so gracefully along your sides until his firm grip settles around the curve of your hips. He gives you a gentle squeeze there, just tense enough to make you gasp before he licks into your mouth.

The feeling of his tongue sliding past your teeth seems to spark something wild in you. You abandon the give of his collar, instead weaving your fingers through his hair. An experimental tug makes him grunt - something you seem to like given the way your back arches from the wall, canting your hips up into his. John takes the opportunity to wedge his knees between your thighs, pressing securely against your clothed cunt. Your tongue prods his back as you grind into him a time or two, and like an electric shock, the motion has him pulling back just enough to speak clearly.

“You want me, pretty girl?” he asks gruffly, breathlessly. It’s near impossible to stop his eyes from migrating, but the way you’re fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back when you rub yourself against him again keeps him entranced. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Just… Just want you,” you pant, biting your lip, failing to hide the sweet little whimper that slips out. 

“Yeah? That all you want, sweetie? You already have me. I’m all yours.”

“You know what I mean, John.” 

He chuckles.

“You’ll need to be more specific than that, love. I haven’t spent all semester with a TA that can’t use her words, have I?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That won’t do at all, my love. Tell me exactly what you want, and I might just give it to you.”

“I-I want - oh fuck - I want your cock stuffed so deep i-inside me that I can f-feel it for days.” You whine, assuming a steady pace. It’s the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard. “Need you to fill me up. Been waiting for months, John.”

His mind goes blank. He’s dumbfounded. An entire dictionary at his disposal, and the only word that comes out of his mouth in response is a hushed, “Fuck.”

You seem to have usurped his confidence, based on the way you’re looking at him as you whisper, “Let me show you.”

Before he can process any of it, you’re guiding him back to his chair and sinking to your knees. Deft fingers make quick work of his belt while you mouth openly along the bulge in his slacks. He swears he’s dreaming when those dark blue nails unfasten the button and begin to pull down his zipper. 

Something in him short-circuits when he looks down and sees the wet patch you’ve left just above his knee. Either you’ve soaked through your panties, or you don’t have any on; he’ll find out which is the case soon enough, but it’s enough to keep him hard for hours.

His eyes dart back to your face, and you’re looking up at him expectantly, tugging his pants and briefs down in tandem, asking him so very sweetly to have a seat. Like a well-trained dog, he obeys, lower layers shoved to his ankles. Tugging a hair tie from your wrist, you make quick work of pulling your hair back. Once done, you only break eye contact to trail a fingertip down his throbbing erection, a haughty smirk tugging at your lips every time it twitches beneath your touch.

“You’ve got the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you mutter, palming it as it lays against his stomach just enough to incite a sharp gasp.

“Don’t tease me, woman,” he groans. “Been waitin’ just as long.”

Almost too delicately, you wrap your hand around his cock, middle finger and thumb barely missing each other. You give him a tight squeeze, making those fingers meet as you painstakingly slowly begin to pump the base. His head falls back against the chair with a muted thud, and the second his eyes close, you have your lips wrapped around his tip.

Your tongue flickers over that sensitive spot just below the head, and John sees white spots behind his eyelids. It’s been so long since anything has felt this good. In fact, he’s not sure if anything ever has. Nothing compares to you. Not by a long shot.

As heavy as those eyelids feel, he lifts his head, forcing himself to watch you work so he can commit every second to memory. That warm, wet, wanton mouth of yours just keeps sucking him deeper, worshiping each inch you take with appreciative hums and whimpers. The pressure is perfect, especially with your tongue pressed to the underside. Your soft hand works the length you’ve yet to reach, the drool leaking from your lips lubing it up for you.

When he finally nudges the back of your throat, you gag, but you don’t pull back. You push just a little farther first, forcing him into the start of the curve and giving him a swallow. What in the actual fuck did John Price ever do right to deserve an angel like you, huh? How in the hell did he ever get this fucking lucky?

The moment your head starts bobbing in his lap, he swears he’s actually died and gone to heaven, or rather, the closest thing he believes in. He has a deathgrip on the arm of his chair, and to ground himself, he has to put one hand on the back of your head; not pushing, not guiding, just resting to keep himself from floating away entirely.

It’s almost overwhelming, just how god damn good you feel. He’ll never get over it. He’ll never get used to it.

You haven’t stopped stroking that extra length since you started, but the other hand is conspicuously absent. He wonders what that hand is up to, but he can see the smallest sense of movement in your shoulder, and he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“Hands on my legs, love. Don’t you dare touch that cunt,” he growls, renewed confidence seeping down to his marrow. Pretty eyes narrowing just slightly, you place your other hand on his thigh. He can feel how wet your two middle fingers are, slick against his skin. The noise that comes out of him is one he doesn’t recognize - somewhere between a whimper and a moan, but somehow neither - as he grabs your wrist and pulls that hand to his lips. Taking those two fingers, he licks them clean. You’re just as delectable as he imagined, and the need to get his mouth on you rears its head. That little voice in the back of his head tells him you deserve it; it’s only right that he shows you how much he truly loves you after making you wait so long.

You pull his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, kitten-licking the tip between ragged breaths. Still pumping him and keeping pace, you duck your head down a little more. You begin alternating between sucking on his balls and tracing the seam up the middle. It’s only a few switches, but it feels like dozens before you start sucking on his dick again. His hips buck involuntarily, grip on your head tightening when he feels every muscle his abdomen tensing.

“Gonna cum if you don’t ease up,” he warns, but you continue with a hum. He has no choice but to guide you away by your hair, and he just about cums anyway at the sight of you.

Your makeup is smeared, little gray streaks running the length of your face. Your entire chin is glistening in the low warmth of the fading sunlight from the window. A few small, silvery strings of saliva and precum keep you connected just a second longer. Any hope you may have started the day with that your lipgloss would stay put was dashed by the first kiss, but is now an absolute impossibility. John almost feels bad about ruining your morning’s work, and by almost, he means not at all. The smile on your face is more than well worth it.

He stands, pushing the chair back with his legs.

“Get that gorgeous arse of yours on the desk, love.”

Divesting himself of his remaining clothing, he sees your eyes widen just a hair.

“Jesus, John,” you whisper, gaze roving his body like it’s a modern marvel. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“You’re one to bloody talk,” he retorts, letting the hem of his sweater fall from his hand. It crumples into a pile with his slacks, and he’s back on you sooner than it hits the floor.

Another blistering kiss, and he can taste himself on your tongue. It’s heady and intoxicating. Enough so that he’s already laying you back on top of the desk, just like the first time he kissed you. 

Like muscle memory, your legs come up astride his waist, and his hands are rucking your dress up over your hips. You only break away from him long enough to pull it the rest of the way off before pulling him back in. The hands used to guide you down work tirelessly to unhook your bra, and both offending garments are tossed aside carelessly. He’ll help you find them later.

He’s the one to disengage this time, the one to stare, the one marveling at the wonder before him. To say you’re beautiful, gorgeous, or any other synonym in his repertoire would be a disservice. There really is no word in the English language - or any other, for that matter - that really captures just how breathtaking you are. Every curve, every line, every mark, mole, freckle, dimple, it merely confirms what he’s surmised from the start: you are perfect.

A slew of words escape him, none of which are coherent to either of you, between the kisses he places along your jaw, down your neck, across your chest. His large hands cup your breasts, pushing them together in the middle. He seals his lips around one of your nipples and lets his tongue move in mindless patterns, adding little sucks or nibbles when he hears you give him a little sigh. The other gets the same treatment immediately following, but he doesn’t forget his mission. A mere detour won’t derail him.

John makes his way down your stomach in a slow trail, leaving hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses. Your hand is in his hair again, and you’re watching him like a hawk, brows furrowed in a throes of ardor.

Another prediction is seasoned as fact when he reaches your pussy. He doesn’t recall any underwear being removed, and yet, you’re bare to him. The evidence of your arousal extends from your lips to your inner thighs, and his cock throbs tirelessly between his legs at the mere thought of his effect on you. 

“Cheeky little minx,” he comments, heated breaths washing over your slit. “Were you planning on tonight going this way?”

Almost bashfully, you shake your head.

“I don’t like panty lines,” you cop. “Don’t think anyone else needs to imagine what’s under my clothes.”

He huffs out a chuckle before taking a knee, hitching yours over his shoulders. His arms circle beneath your ass, wrapping around until those big paws are settled on your hips. The tips of his fingers dig into the meat as he hauls you closer to the edge of the desk. 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmurs between the kisses he lays against your skin, kissing up one thigh, then the other, never taking his eyes off yours while he licks the slick from his lips. “Most stunning creature I’ve seen in all my life. Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You’re not given the chance to respond before he descends, licking a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue. You yelp, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your legs tense, but his hold keeps them from closing around him. As much as he’ll enjoy the free earmuffs on the impending colder nights, he wants you spread out right now.

He drinks you down, savoring how good you taste. You’re keening high in your throat, pulling his hair, digging your heels into his scapulae; he’d gladly spend the rest of his life between your legs if you’d let him.

The tip of his tongue nudges your swollen clit. You arch off the desk, panting. He sucks it between his lips, putting just the right pressure on it in a thrumming cycle. The sounds you’re making whisper of being close to the edge, and he wants to keep pushing.

“John, please,” you whine, squirming in his iron grip. “I want your fingers.”

He releases your clit, flicks his tongue over it one more time just to see you jolt. If you’re going to ask so sweetly, who is he to deny you?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Untangling one arm, Price wastes no time guiding his middle finger into your sopping entrance. It slides in like this is where it belongs. He uses the opposite thumb and forefinger to spread you open, eagerly easing a second finger in.

His hands are much larger than yours; thicker, longer fingers, meatier palms, knotted and scarred knuckles from his time in the service. Two of his digits equal three of yours. He’s gentle, cautious, and the addition of his ring finger lures him into a trance of wonderment, watching with rapt attention as your hole flutters, stretching to accommodate him.

You clench around him, a scarcely audible hiss sneaking between your teeth. The depth he reaches is far more than you’d ever manage on your own, he knows, and when he crooks his fingers, catching that sweet spot, you bow up again, grinding down into his hand.

The blissed out look you aim at him sparks the frenzy, and he’s ravenous, devouring you like a man starved. Lapping at your clit, hand keeping a steady pace, it doesn’t take long before you’re issuing a warning that you’re close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Not stoppin’ ���til you do.”

Your thighs clamp down around him when his efforts double. A dull thunk is barely heard as you throw your head back, and almost on cue, your walls are squeezing him, pulsating as a sharp bout of convulsion hits. He can’t make out the words you’re saying, so he tenderly guides you back down from the peak until you release him.

The heave of your chest as you try to catch your breath gives him pause. While he’s desperate to feel you wrapped around him, milking him for all he’s worth, he’d still be plenty satisfied finishing himself off at home if you needed a break. You look absolutely wrecked already, smeared makeup and mussed hair, sweat beading above your brow. He’s clearly done a number on you already, but when you spread those perfect legs again and start palming your tits in a way that makes his mouth water, John finds himself grabbing a throw pillow from the couch beneath the window.

In a rare display of raw, brute strength, he gathers both your legs in one arm and lifts your ass from the desk just enough to wedge the pillow in. He’s bumped into his own desk enough times to know what a nasty mark it can create, and he’ll be damned if you’re left with any bruises other than the ones he creates with the intimate intent of branding you as his.

“You ready, love?” he asks softly, guiding his drooling cock through your folds. Your wetness slicks him up nicely as you nod, tacking on a gentle ‘please’.

His tip settles in just the right place, and he pushes home in one fell stroke. Your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent moan, and John feels as if the air has been punched from his lungs. He has to steady himself to keep from cumming right then by holding just beneath your rib cage, the natural curve of your waist. It fits so immaculately in his hands, and it roots him into place.

This is real. You’re real. You’re really here, and this is really happening. 

“John,” you mewl, placing a delicate hand over one of his.

“Just… Gimme a second, sweetheart,” he mutters with a kind squeeze. “Feels too fuckin’ good bein’ inside you like this.”

One moment bleeds into another, and you’re so patient as he collects himself. No push, no prod, no protest; just the tips of your fingers tracing the veins in the back of his hand until he’s ready. When he is, he gives you a gentle tap of confirmation before experimentally rolling his hips.

He groans, the feeling still so intense as he works in shallow thrusts. You fit him like a glove, like you were made for him and him alone, like you’re meant to be his. A step away from the precipice does him no favors; he knows he’s not going to last long. With the way you’re wrapped around him, looking up at him with a degree of reverence reserved for someone who hand-painted all the stars in the night sky just for you, how could he?

His hips draw back further each stroke now, and he begins to pick up his pace. The meat of his thighs claps against your ass as he pulls your hips towards him at every collision. Your nails bite into his forearms. Every sound you make fuels his primal need to hear more, and he knows he’s hitting all the right spots when you’re slurring out swears and babbling nearly incoherently beneath him.

A bead of sweat drips down to the hollow of his throat. He glances down at where you’re joined, watching your sweet cunt stretch to swallow down his thick cock. A milky white ring has formed around the base. As many times as he’d pictured this exact moment, nothing in the most feral corners of his imagination could’ve conjured something so inherently erotic. Seeing his length disappear inside you over and over assures that he’ll never be satisfied with fucking his fist again, not after this.

The pad of his calloused thumb finds your swollen clit with ease. He rubs in tight, calculated circles, applying a little more pressure when you nearly shriek his name. He needs to see you come undone for him again.

“That feel good, love?” You nod. “Yeah? You like that, huh? Can feel that pretty pussy squeezin’ me. You’re takin’ me so well, honey.”

You’re barely coherent beneath him as he drives into that spot that keeps you breathless. He doesn’t know what you’re begging for, but you keep saying ‘please’. You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes on him, and they keep threatening to roll back. The sight only spurs him on. 

Any semblance of control is lost when you warn him that you’re close again. Words of encouragement pour out like a fountain before he can process what he’s saying. Your whole body tenses, walls clamping down around his length in even pulses, and John folds himself over you, fucking you through the waves.

“Shit, I - oh, fuck! - John, I-I… I love you.” You struggle to get it out between pants and moan and whines, but his heart soars all the same. He ruts into you feverishly, peppering your face with sloppy kisses as he chases that high. There’s no controlling the near whimpers that escape him as your orgasm pushes him to the brink of his own.

“‘Bout to cum, baby. Where do you want it?” he sighs into your mouth.

“Inside - please, want you to cum inside me.”

That’s what does him in. He pushes as deep as he can, tip kissing your cervix as he pumps rope after rope of warm white into you. The edges of his vision blur. He can’t remember a time in his life that he’s cum so hard, but he knows it won’t be the last. Not when there are too many months to make up for.

One more kiss, and he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

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