#doesn’t help that I utterly fucked up my sleep schedule over break

[thegaythespian]

every night I consider pulling an all nighter, already going to bed too late to not be tired in the morning

[boowanie]

pairing: jeonghan x bestfriend!reader

genre: angst and fluff

wc: 1.4k

summery: falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea.

eri’s note: again, can yoon jeonghan please stop bias wrecking me. i promise i’ll start writing for the other members soon, i’m just in the middle of a very hectic schedule at uni 🥺 also, i barely proofread this since i wrote this last night (2am) but i hope you beans enjoy it nonetheless 💘

with one last huff, you managed to squeeze your belongings in the back of your trunk while some of your pillows and duvet rested inside your car with jeonghan’s stuff thrown somewhere in the mix. this is going to be one hell of a move, you thought. however, you were excited to finally move out of your old apartment that was situated a little further away from your university compared to the new apartment that you were going to share with your bestfriend, jeonghan.

you smiled as jeonghan skipped out of your old apartment building, waving a piece of paper in his hand. “you nearly forgot chick n mix’s menu in your kitchen yn! you know we won’t be able to survive college without their chicken,” he whined, pulling at your sleeve. you waved him off and threw him your keys.

“and what do you expect me to do with this,” he asked, twirling the keyring with his pointer finger. you jutted out your lower lip, silently begging him to drive instead of you since you had been awake since four in the morning organising and placing your belongings into boxes.

jeonghan smiled as you grabbed his hand, the look on your face instantly melted his heart causing him to push you towards the passenger seat while he then walked towards the driver’s seat. he heard you faintly let out a “yay” before you opened the door and sat down. the drive to your new apartment was filled with silence and your occasional snores. you tried your best to stay awake to entertain jeonghan but as he waited for the light to turn green, you ended up dozing off with your hand holding his right hand.

“you sleepyhead,” was the last thing you heard as you dozed off for the first time that afternoon.

—

it was your second month living with jeonghan when you started seeing your bestfriend in a different light. his smiles that used to have no affect on you no longer remained the same. instead, his smiles made your heart skip a few beats and his usual flirting that you used to play along with had your stomach doing flips in every possible direction. but you were scared, you were damn scared of the thought of falling for your bestfriend of ten years when all he saw in you was someone he could trust and rely on, a friend.

thus, you tried your best to suppress your feelings, you tried your utmost best to ignore the jealousy that sometimes sparked in you whenever he brought random girls home after a night out with your friends. it didn’t help the fact that you could faintly hear them from your bedroom since the walls were somewhat thin.

you really really hated your blossoming feelings.

—

after the fifth month of living with jeonghan, you finally confirmed that you were inlove with him. it was an autumn’s night when he came home distressed and you knew he wasn’t having a good day when he ignored you when you greeted him like you usually did. you heard his door close with a bang and the heavy thud of a fist colliding with what you assumed was the wall.

you waited for ten minutes to pass until you entered his room. the first thing you noticed was the closed curtains which stopped any source of light from entering his room. the second thing you saw was his figure underneath his duvet. you studied him for a little bit, and you saw the way his figure was shaking from all the anger, you assumed.

you padded your way slowly towards him, careful not to make a noise. as you grew closer to him, you heard the faint sniffles that was coming from him and it broke your heart. without any hesitation, you lifted his duvet from his figure and situated yourself beside him. he didn’t complain nor did he move an inch which was a good sign. after a few moments of debating with yourself, you enclosed your arm around him and pulled jeonghan closer to you which caused him to face you. jeonghan stared at you for a moment until he broke down in tears, burying his face into your chest while you tried to soothe him with faint words.

an hour passed by when he finally calmed down and slept. you still had your arm around him but he adjusted his head on the pillow because he soaked your tshirt with his tears. you promised not to tease him about it which brought a smile to his face. jeonghan pecked your forehead before he drifted off to sleep. you watched him until his breathing steadied and that’s when you knew how screwed you were.

you watched your life flash before you and you realised how you have always been inlove with yoon jeonghan.

—

after seven months of living with jeonghan, you finally reached your limit.

when the girl he took home the night before walked out of your apartment door, you burst. the words that spewed from your mouth shocked him. it shocked him to the point where he couldn’t move from where was standing topless near his bedroom door.

“i’m fucking inlove with you, yoon jeonghan and i can’t stand another day seeing you with someone else because it’s breaking my heart and it’s ruining me piece by piece,” you yelled, your heart dropping to your stomach as you watched his eyes widen at your confession. you smacked a hand over your mouth, freezing as you realised the words you uttered.

“shit,” you mumbled, picking up your phone from the coffee table and running out of your shared apartment in a flash. yoon jeonghan continued to stand like a statue by his bedroom door, watching as your figure disappeared out of the apartment.

—

“you know you can’t ignore him for the rest of your life,” seungkwan and joshua said in unison. you muffled out an answer that none of them could hear.

“what?”

“i said,” you raised your head to look at the two, “i said i can always try.”

joshua rolled his eyes while seungkwan clicked his tongue at your words. you knew they were right because sooner or later, you were bound to go home. you couldn’t keep lounging around their apartment for the rest of the week and the clothes they were letting you borrow were getting out of hand.

“i texted him last night,” you muttered, which caught their attention. joshua and seungkwan leaned towards you in anticipation. “but all he said was he was sorry,” you sighed.

“sorry for what?” joshua asked, gripping seungkwan’s thigh.

“sorry because he doesn’t see me the way i see him, i guess which is fine. i didn’t expect him to return my feelings anyway,” you mumbled. joshua released seungkwan’s thigh from his grip and stood up. he walked towards the kitchen and grabbed his phone.

“jeonghan’s a dumbass and we all know it,” he said through his clenched teeth.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your body leaning into seungkwan’s arms as he tried to comfort you in his embrace. joshua furiously typed on his phone while you and seungkwan awaited for his reply.

“yoon jeonghan is completely and utterly inlove with you but your dumbass of a bestfriend is afraid that he’ll ruin the friendship that you guys built over the past ten years,” he started.

“why can’t he just let himself be happy? especially when it’s you that he’s inlove with!”

—

after joshua’s outburst, you were totally confused but you knew you had to talk to jeonghan. you bid joshua and seungkwan farewell after they dropped you home and with a nervous heart, you trudged your way into your apartment.

once jeonghan heard the door open, he threw the book he was reading for a class onto the coffee table and instantly ran towards you. you weren’t expecting him to be so eager for you to come home and it caught you off guard when he pulled you in for a hug; a hug that lasted for a long time until your legs were aching for some comfort.

“my legs are about to give out hannie, can we please sit down,” you mumbled against his chest. he tightened his grip around you as you spoke to him.

“i’m inlove with you-” he cleared his throat.

“i’m inlove with everything about you yn, and im sorry it took me years and joshua’s long text to realise how deeply inlove i am with you.” he cried. your breath got caught in your throat as he continued to detail the things he loved about you, your habits that made his heart swoon and lastly, the moments he realised when he fell for you.

“b-but why did you say sorry?”

“i meant i was sorry because i didn’t realise that you liked me back,” he pulled away and looked down at you, “or love me back?”

“love. it’s definitely love.”

[xpeachesncream]

off the grid | one

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 3384

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, slight flirting, nothin’ too cray

notes: as mentioned on ‘perfectly wrong,’ i tend to write short chapters, but that means there will be quite a few chapters ahead.

> series masterlist <

The jetlag must have hit you bad because the sun is shining in brightly through the windows and it's about to be 1PM.

"Aw, fuck." You say to yourself as you sit up and rub your face to wake yourself up. You feel like you've been hit by a truck, but there was no way you were going to spend your day sleeping and getting yourself on track. Time is of the essence.

You head downstairs to the bathroom to wash up and start getting yourself ready for today. The TV is on a random channel while you toast yourself some bread to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You didn't feel too hungry, solely because you were more excited to get out there and try the local food.

As you finish up your sandwich, you start to make your way back upstairs to get into your outfit, but you suddenly stop when you hear a voice outside in the hallway. At first, it didn't cause any alarm because it sounded distant enough to make you think it wasn't coming towards your way. However, that quickly changes when the voice is right outside the door and is clear as day.

"Yo, Yana! Open up!" The knocks came suddenly on the door. You hesitated, wondering if Yana had also just left without giving anyone a heads up because who in the hell was this man pounding on her door at this time? The day barely started for you. "Yana! Come on! Quit playing around before I knock this door down myself!" You definitely didn't want that, so you cross your arms tightly near your chest as you walk to the door. You reach for the door handle to swing it open, revealing a somewhat flustered male standing in front of you with a huge tupperware of food in his hands.

"Uh, hi? Can I help you?"

"You're not.. Yana?" His eyebrows furrowed. He welcomes himself in, almost causing you to trip over yourself as you move aside, checking the bathroom and quickly glancing up and around the loft.

"Last time I checked, I sure wasn't." You shut the door and cross your arms tightly as you watch him stand there. You couldn't help but notice how attractive he was - standing at a good 5'9-5'10, fair skin, grey, ash-blonde hair that was parted down the middle, with some layers falling around the front of his face. His lips were pink and plump, and you couldn't help but gaze at his beautiful eyes, which for sure had grey tinted lenses in at the moment. You could see his resemblance to Yana. He seemed way too unreal though, in a good way. You quickly checked your appearance in the mirror through the bathroom, making sure your hair wasn't a mess or that you weren't a mess in general. But lo and behold, you were still in your Hello Kitty pajama shirt and shorts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like that. I'm Yana's brother, Jimin. Park Jimin." He softly smiles at you and shows off his pearly whites, his hand on the nape of his neck as he quickly checks you out from head to toe. "Nice jammies."

"Well, I wasn't necessarily expecting an intrusion at this time." You wrap your arms around your chest to cover up Hello Kitty as much as you can.

"Right, sorry. She wasn't answering my calls or texts so I came over here to check on her, plus my mom asked me to bring this over. Any idea where she might be since you're apparently occupying her space now?"

"She didn't tell you anything?" His right eyebrow raises.

"No? Care to fill me in?"

"She put her loft up on a home exchange website, so we decided to swap homes for a bit. She's down at my apartment in California right n-"

"California? Since when? How long is she going to be there for?" He laughed a bit. "You're talking about my sister Yana, right? She doesn't go anywhere. She barely even leaves her house."

"I'm pretty sure we're talking about the same Yana." You pursed your lips into a fine line before chiming in again. "I just got here yesterday afternoon, so I'm sure she's still getting herself situated. We're switching back after Christmas."

"Why didn't she say anything?" You can tell the question wasn't necessarily directed towards you and moreso just Jimin thinking out loud, but you respond anyway. He has such a soft demeanor that you don't feel threatened by him being around you at all, even if this whole thing was accidental.

"I don't.. know? I'm really sorry, I don't know what to tell you." You shrugged. You felt bad Yana's own brother was out of the loop, but you get it. You were in the same spot as she was. You just had to do what you had to do without anyone holding you back sometimes.

"Nah, no worries. I'll get a hold of her somehow." He shakes his head and makes his way to the kitchen. He places the tupperware he has in his hands in the fridge, then toothlessly smiles back at you as it closes. "Since you're here, help yourself to my mom's food."

"Mm, are you sure? I mean I don't want to-"

He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "Seriously, Yana isn't here to eat it and it shouldn't go to waste."

"Why don't you eat it?"

"Because I have my own at home." He smiled. "You're not going to get out of this one, you know?"

"Thank you. Or, um, thanks to your mom." You rub your arm as you chuckle nervously while following him to the door. The fuck Y/N, don't start acting up around him now.

"Sorry about that again." He turns to smile at you again, hands now deep in his pockets. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." Jimin nods and chuckles. "I promise I don't just barge into people's homes like that."

"Mhm, your sister must think you're a handful."

"If anything, she's the handful, clearly." He cocks his head to the side. "California, huh?"

"The golden state." You shrug and chuckle. Really, Y/N? The golden state?

"I bet." Is all he says before he starts to back away from the door. "Well, I don't want to take more time out of your day. You must have some plans to get through. Thanks again, Y/N."

"Yeah, no problem." You watch as he walks down the hallway. As he descends down the steps, you gently shut the door and walk upstairs to finish getting ready so you can finally start your first adventure. To where? You don't know and that's a-okay.

[Y/N] 1:56pm: Hey Yana, I hope you're settled in! Your brother came here to drop off some food and to check on you. I may have told him you were in California, but I didn't say anything else after that. I'm sorry :( Hopefully that doesn't cause issues. Let me know if you need anything.

[Yana] 2:05pm: Hey! Haha no worries, I'm struggling a little with the sleep schedule but I'll be fine. Thanks for letting me know! Was he mad?

[Y/N] 2:07pm: No, he just couldn't believe you were out there since he claims you don't leave the house often. Haha.

[Yana] 2:08pm: Wow, he said that? Very Jimin like. He's 25 years old going on 80 so he shouldn't be one to talk. Agh, can't live with him, can't live without him. I'll deal with it. Hope my little brother didn't bother you too much after that! Many apologies if he did!

From what you gather, Yana is super sweet and you can tell she has a close relationship with her brother. You were quite surprised Jimin was her little brother, simply due his slightly overprotective nature and how he threatened to break down the door. Nonetheless, Jimin seemed to be concerned for his sister's wellbeing and you could tell he was sad when he realized she wasn't going to be around for awhile. You truly hope you didn't mess anything up or cause any issues for her plans though. It reminds you of your own friends and how you'll probably get the same earful in the next couple of hours. Until then though, you stick to the plan and tuck your phone deep into your bag before navigating the nearby streets to do some exploring.

Meanwhile, Jimin tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter as he enters the apartment he shares with his two bestfriends.

"You find her?" Taehyung sits on the couch with one foot up. He's holding a cup of tea in his hand while watching a movie on TV.

"Yana?"

"I'm sorry, were you looking for someone else besides your sister?" Taehyung asks sarcastically, which Jimin ignores.

"No, but I met Y/N." Jimin flatly responds as he plops onto the couch next to him and pulls up Yana's number to get a hold of her.

"Who is Y/N?"

"She's living at Yana's."

"Wait, what? She has a roommate now?" Taehyung looked at him, completely and utterly confused with this whole conversation.

"Nope. My sister is apparently in California cause she swapped homes with her."

"That's a thing?"

"I guess so." Taehyung watches as Jimin puts the phone to his ear.

"Yana, what the hell?" Jimin says into the phone as he stands up and walks towards his room.

"Calm down, fool. Why did you barge into my place like that? Perfect impression to give Y/N while she's still settling down."

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to California for the holidays?" He ran his hand through his hair. As guessed, he indeed had a very close relationship to his sister. Knowing she wouldn't be around for Christmas made him a pretty sad. He knew Yana had been wanting to get away for a bit, especially with the personal things she had going on, but he had wished she talked to him about what was going on first. He wanted to help in any way that he could.

"Because I knew if I did, you'd try and stop me."

"N-no!" He stuttered. "No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would've. Or, you would have tried to come with."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Chim, I just really want my own time in a new setting, away from everything that's familiar. Just for a bit." Jimin sighed. He wasn't going to argue.

"Alright, I get it. Please just stay safe out there, okay?"

"Yeah, I will. I'm surprised you haven't ran to mom yet." He chuckled.

"Jeez, is that what you think of me? A tattle-tale?"

"Mm, sometimes." She laughed. "You can be quite the baby."

"Hey, woah! This wasn't supposed to be about me." He grabbed his chest, feeling a little attacked by his sister. "Look, I'm not gonna say anything but eventually she's gonna notice. You know her."

"Then let her, I'll deal with it then."

"Alright, go for it." Jimin threw his hand up in defeat like Yana can see him somehow. Mom wasn't scary; if anything, she was always super supportive. However, Jimin and Yana both knew she'd be nothing but a worried mess knowing Yana was out in California on her own. "Let me know if you need anything from me, okay? Watch out for yourself down there."

"I will. I'll talk to you later, I'm gonna try to get on with my day before all I do is sleep. I love you."

"Love you too." Yana hangs up the phone, sighing at the mess she created with her luggage sprawled out in the room. She tried digging for something more appropriate for the Los Angeles weather at the moment, in which the sun was shining warmly but the surrounding morning air was cold. She headed back into the living room to scroll through her phone and figure out what to do with her day. She could go for some good coffee and breakfast right now, but where? Something walkable? She figured she could also uber around until she got used to the public transportation around here.

Some pancakes, eggs and—

Knock, knock, knock.

Yana sprung her head up to face the door, unsure of who could be here this early. She too was wondering if you had just left without notice, or if it could be the mailman delivering a package. But, this early? Is this how they did it in California? She peeks through the peephole to see a rather tall figure, wearing a beanie, hoodie, sweats, a coat and sneakers. He held two cups of coffee in his hands as he waited patiently for the door to be swung open.

"Hi." Yana said, cocking her head to the side as she held onto the door knob. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why she was answering the door and not his bestfriend.

"Hi, I'm sorry. Is Y/N here?" Yana chuckled and shook her head. Figures. They were exactly on the same page with this swap.

"No, I'm sorry. She's in Seoul." His eyes widened.

"Seoul? As in South Korea Seoul?" She nodded.

"Yeah, we swapped homes for the month. Sorry, I'm guessing she didn't tell you anything." He shook his head. "Come in. I'm Yana." She smiled, having him return the smile back.

"Namjoon." He steps in and directly goes for the kitchen to place the coffee cups down. "Help yourself to the coffee I brought over."

"Thanks." She smiled softly.

"So, when exactly did this swap happen?"

"I just got here not too long ago, actually. Y/N just got situated too."

"Damn, that recent?" Namjoon shook his head. "I don't get why she just upped and left like that."

"I'm sorry, I'm sure it wasn't anything personal."

"No need to apologize." He chuckled. "I'm kind of just thinking out loud here. It's a little random, that's all. I'm sure I'll hear the reasoning soon." He leaned his back against the counter. Yana thought he was really attractive, with the way he leaned back against the counter, buff arms crossed at the chest. She knew her reasoning for agreeing to the swap, especially with the troubles she's had with her ex, Jackson. But, to be honest, she wouldn't mind running into this man every so often. He showed off his dimple when he smiled and chuckled earlier, giving off some sort of calmness to his personality.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will."

"Did you guys know each other for awhile or something?"

"Nope, met completely out of the blue on the home exchange site."

"Nice." He nodded. He was just confused and almost shocked that you left without briefing him and Yoongi. Not that you owed them any explanation, but you've all been so transparent with each other due to the nature of your relationship. Why did you go off so far? Why didn't you let them tag along? What kind of Hannah Montana ass life are you living? "Definitely not something Y/N would do." Namjoon did a little head tilt.

"Are you her.. significant other?"

"God, no." He made a sour face. "We've been close since high school. Me, her and our other friend Yoongi. It's always been us three." She nodded.

"That's sweet." He smiled at her toothlessly, keeping his gaze on her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt her cheeks heat up, so she couldn't help but break the staring game by looking down at the floor.

"Sorry, you must have things to do. I'll get going." He pushed off on the counter.

"I was actually just trying to figure out what I could do with my day. Any recommendations?"

"Tons. Depends on what you're looking to do to start off your first day in LA." She chuckled.

"Not too much since the jetlag will hit me sometime soon."

"I can show you around if you'd like? It's honestly not easy getting around here without a car. Uber is cool and all but those surcharges can get to you." She smiled but hesitated to answer. They had literally just met, but she didn't feel any weird vibes coming from him. If anything, he was already showing how down to earth and laid back he was. "Only if you'd like, of course. I promise I don't bite or anything." She chuckled.

"Actually, yeah. I'm down for that. I just need to go get ready."

"Take your time." Namjoon hung over the kitchen counter to go through his phone as Yana walked away. He figured he could help her get some breakfast and take her down to Santa Monica, for starters.

Later that afternoon, Namjoon brought Yana back home to rest up early. There were only so many things you could do from early on and he could tell she was getting pretty tired even though she tried her hardest to keep up, which made him feel bad. He got to his apartment that he shared with Yoongi and threw his beanie and keys off to the side of the dining table. 

“Yoongi-ah!” He called out for Yoongi. The boy came out of his room, looking like he had just woken up from a deep nap.

“Why are you yelling for me?”

“Did you know Y/N was in Seoul?” 

“Our Y/N? In Seoul?”

“Yes, that’s what I just asked.” Yoongi scratched his head and sat down on the couch, head tilting back to rest on it. 

“No. The fuck? Since when?”

“Like a day or whatever ago, I don’t really want to calculate the time difference right now.”

“Why is she there?”

“Dunno. Wanna find out?” Yoongi scrolled through his phone and shook his head.

“They’re 15 hours ahead, so it’s like 8:30 AM there. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She’s probably ti-” Namjoon instantly went into the Favorites tab of his phone to quickly pull up your contact info and call you. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” The first time he called you through Facetime, you didn't pick up. So he tries again, completely ignoring the whole time difference shpeel from Yoongs.

"What?" You asked groggily on the other line, eyes still closed while you had the phone staring up at the ceiling so Namjoon couldn't see you.

"How's Seoul?"

"Namjoon, leave me alone. It's 8AM."

"You’re usually up by that time when you’re here, get up out of that bed.”

“Clearly, I’m not home. You just said it.” You groaned.

“I told you she would be mad.” Yoongi peeks his head into the small Facetime frame on Namjoon’s phone. “Just for the record Y/N, I told him not to call you.”

“Why didn't you tell me?! I brought coffee only to find Yana at your apartment.” Namjoon continues to ignore all cues.

"You met her and she had coffee. Sounds like a win-win to me."

"Why didn't you say anything?" He whined.

"Because I knew if I did, you and Yoongi would try and come along."

"Ah, wait, wait. Is that so bad?!" Yoongi chimed in, a little hurt from that statement.

"I love you both dearly, but I really just wanted this to be solo-dolo." Namjoon sighed.

"Are you okay at least?"

"Yes, I promise. I'd be even more fine if you both let me get a little bit more sleep."

"You didn't do this because of Romeo, did you?"

"I'd be lying if I said no. Look, for the most part, I just wanted to get away from LA for a bit. Get away from work and all the other stressors that home has been bringing. Okay?”

"I get it."

"Now stop going to my house and scaring Yana, you giant."

"I took her around today."

"Don't start with the funny business, Joonie."

"And what if the funny business comes to me instead?" He pulled the camera close to his face, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. ‘You’re ugly,’ You hear Yoongi faintly say in the background, who is now completely out of the frame.

"Bye." You hang up and turn over to try and head back to sleep. Let's get this straight - you love Namjoon and Yoongi. You've done a lot of things together and you always look for their company. But, there were things you needed to get past on your own. The work stress and the impostor syndrome, keeping up with LA, your ex and the on and off years you've been putting yourself through all the hurt.

You felt like you really couldn't blame anyone but yourself, especially with Romeo and how he had been treating you. He had been treating you like a convenience and he never showed any effort. Yet, you always gave in because this was a man you loved for nearly the past 5 years.

It was just time. You were done. You had to remind yourself who you were.

[chaoticallysapphic]

Oh my heart part three

-Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her.

A/N: soooo I’ve never written a kiss before, please give me constructive criticism on it so I can better my writing. This is the last part and I’m really happy with the ending, please let me know which part of this whole series was your favorite!

Word count: 6k

When Lin wakes up, all she feels is the mind splitting pain from her blow, flashes of what happen play in her mind, the last thing she remembers is hearing you scream her name. You, Lin, forces her eyes open which is a task an of itself, and tries to sit up, her muscles spasm and give out, causing her to fall back down onto where she is laying, wherever she is its moving; Tenzin comes into her eyesight, he leans over her as he checks her pupils and her pulse. “Thank spirits you're all right, I was worried for a minu-”

“You just left my sister?!” Lin hears Korra scream from somewhere nearby. No, no she can’t have heard her correctly, Lin tries to sit up once more but Tenzin tries to push her back down.

“Get off of me” she growls out, sitting up so she can finally see the group in front of her. It’s Korra with her fists clenched and her face all pinched and red, she looks like she may very well kill everyone on board, yes, Lin realizes now that they are on the police force blimp. “We couldn’t find her and tanks were shooting at us, we didn’t ha-”

“Where’s y/n?” Lin asks, all heads turn to Lin and Korra points at Bolin and Mako, spitting out “ask them, they just left her behind! Amon probably has her now!” Korra storms off, hitting the wall with her firebending on the way out.

Mako rubs the back of his neck, he does look sorry and Bolin looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Asami is the one who speaks up “When we got down there they were loading your officers into some trucks, they must have already put y/n on there because she wasn’t with you three.” Lin’s heart stops, your gone and the last words she may have ever said to you was “don’t be a nuisance,” fuck. Lin’s head falls into her hands as she tries to keep her breathing even, she pushed you away like everyone else, and like everyone else you left even if it was against your will. All those silly daydreams that she had scolded herself for having, all those desires, she never even got to say how your laugh makes every little worry on her mind vanish.

Tenzin places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze “we’ll find your officers Lin.” Oh right, fuck, not only did she let y/n down but also her officers. How is she going to tell all their families? How will she face the citizens of republic city after failing to protect them like she swore she would? Tenzin tries to push Lin back into laying down and this time she relents, her mind is swirling with the possibilities of what's happening to you right now but none of them are good, even if you do come out alive your bending will be taken away.

“From the looks of it she put up a fight, there was water everywhere…” Asami murmurs out somewhere behind her, Lin squeezes her eyes shut, maybe if she tries hard enough you’ll magically appear, maybe if she promises the spirits she’ll be nicer to everyone, especially you, they’ll give you back to her.

Back, Lin never had you in the first place, she shut you out and squashed any chance there may have been, at the time it seemed smart but now she lays here wishing she had kissed you at least once. On the tram she almost did, when you stepped closer to her Lin's thoughts were engulfed in you, her senses were filled with you, the scent of your perfume, your voice, and even your touch. She’d wanted to pull you into a never-ending kiss right there in front of everyone, wanted to throw all caution to the wind and finally let herself be yours.

Instead, she’d snapped at you with some vicious reply that she doesn’t even remember all too well, just that she called you a nuisance and the devastating look on your face at her response. She had to turn away from you, she couldn’t look into your eyes or else she knew she’d have caved. She would have held your face in her hands and given a million sincere apologies in hopes of erasing that look from your face.

Lin uses the last of her strength to turn her back on the bickering group of teens and falls back to sleep, except this time all she dreams about is finding you dead in some ditch.

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Lin spent her time on bed rest with you and her officers on her mind. She was deeply ashamed of her failure, she even had nightmares about if she did find you. In them you were either dead or close to it, in one you even declined her help to get medical attention and told her you’d rather die than live your life with her as a soulmate. That one had truly shattered her. There's a radio beside her bed, for the most part, it played nonsensical talk shows with mind-numbing segments, the only reason she had it on was that sometimes a police report was given.

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you this special report. Late last night equalists attacked city hall subduing councilman Tarlock and capturing avatar Korra details are still coming in but-” Lin turns it off and forces herself out of bed, pain erupts in her right arm and she has to stop for a second to hold it and let the pain subdue, it doesn’t completely disappear but it’s enough to get her out of bed.

She lets out a pained groan and heads over to the closet that has her clothes inside, her uniform stares at her mockingly, reminding her that she’s no longer chief of police but right now isn’t time for a pity party, so she gets out of her pajamas and into her usual white tank top and pants then metal bends the armor on. Lin looks down at her breastplate and stares at her pin that marks as such and rips it off, tossing it onto her nightstand. She has to find Korra, you’d want her to find Korra.

Lin leaves the hospital with a coat over her armor to not so subtly hide what she's wearing underneath and storms off to retrieve Asami from her cell. She metal bends the door off and soon the two are off, Asami is walking next to her, trying to keep up with the pace “we’re gonna find them, I know we will” Asami says, Lin sighs and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. She hope’s so.

She busts Bolin and Mako out next, reluctantly but she knows her best bet at finding everyone in time is with them by her side. Her next destination is Tenzin's office, once inside she finds him sitting at his desk on the telephone, he eyes them, a surprised look appearing on his face which causes Lin to roll her eyes. Did he expect her to pout until someone else fixed this mess?

“I… have to go,” he says to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Call me back the minute you hear anything-” he immediately ends the call, going to stand from his seat with his hands up in the air. “- Lin what... What are… what are you” he sputters out before his shoulders sag and he gives her an exasperated look. “You should be in the hospital! And you three-” he begins, pointing his fingers at the younger three of the group, “- should be in prison!”

“I figured you could use our help finding Korra” she replies, she wants to say find you, but she knows her best bet at finding you is through your sister, and if Lin found you first, you’d be enraged to find your little sister missing. They all theorize on how to start the search, Asami, Bolin, and Mako run off after Mako says he might know where to go. Lin looks up at Tenzin, letting out a deep sigh “wherever Amon is keeping Korra, I bet that's where y/n and my officers are too.”

Tenzin looks into Lin’s eyes and says with the utmost confidence “let's bring them all home Lin.” Everyone eventually boards Oogi and Mako directs Tenzin where to go. Besides his directions it's utterly quiet on the back of the sky bison, everyone is tense and buzzing with the hope that his hunch is correct. Eventually, they land in a city square and upon climbing down Mako immediately runs over to one of the streets “the truck that took Bolin went this way” he states, pointing at the winding road.

They walk down the street for at least two blocks before coming to an intersection, everyone slowly comes to a halt as Asami breaks the silence “which way?” Bolin strokes his chin as he steps closer to the street in front of them and replies “this way seems familiar.”

Lin, not wanting to go out on a hunch, especially one made by him, bends one of her shoes off and slams her foot down, she closes her eyes as she tries to see what's beneath the surface. A tunnel! It's to the left instead of straight and Lin bends her shoe back on, pointing left “there's a tunnel nearby!”

They break off into a sprint once more and come upon an unused storm drain that has a massive tunnel covered by a metal grate. Motorcycle tracks are leading into the tunnel, confirming their growing suspicions. “Korra has to be in there… somewhere,” Mako says as Lin bends the gate upwards with a bang.

They walk for at least fifteen minutes before they come to a grinding halt, in front of them are five separate tunnels splitting off into different directions. Mako is bending some fire in his hand to help illuminate their path. He doesn’t stop though, he points to a tunnel and tells them he thinks it's this way. With no other option, they all follow after him and continue their descent into the unknown. Soon they hear the revving of motorcycles behind them, Lin orders them all to hide and they all press themselves into a hidden nook. A secret door opens up for the cyclists and they speed inside without a single idea of what they’ve just done.

That pesky feeling of hope blooms in Lin’s chest once more, she runs over to the secret door that has since been shut and feels around before bending it open. It slams open and without a second to lose they race down this secret tunnel with abandon. There's a large room before them with equalists working inside, there are multiple vehicles inside and a tram system leading down three tunnels straight ahead.

One of the trams arrives and an equalist with a feminine voice walks up to the one holding a clipboard and says “everything was delivered to the prison, sir.” Both are fools, far too comfortable with the area because they walk away leaving the contraption unattended. “That’s where they must be keeping Korra” Tenzin whispers. And y/n, Lin thinks, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, forcing herself to focus and says “we need to get down that tunnel.”

She waves at them, signaling them to follow her as she sneaks towards the tram. Once onboard, Asami drives it for them, going as fast as she can while Tenzin and Lin stand upfront, on guard for anything that may be lurking in the shadows. Once they see a light ahead seeping into the otherwise dark tunnel Lin orders them off and everyone presses their backs against the wall as the tram continues speeding down to the landing.

“It’s empty,” one idiotic officer says, and another reply in a snarky tone “yeah, I can see that.” Before either can investigate further, Lin shoots out her metal wires and yanks them into the darkness with them. She knocks them out, perhaps a bit too harshly but she’s beyond caring and ties them up so they can’t run off to warn anyone else. Using her aseismic senses, she’s able to locate her men… but not y/n.

“What about Korra?” Mako questions, his tone borderline irritable. Lin keeps a calm composure and replies “I don’t see her yet.” Mako and Tenzin follow Lin as she leads the way through the prison, all of the cells they pass are empty, strange. When they turn a corner two guards are waiting, as they ready themselves for a fight, Tenzin uses his bending to knock them out against the walls. Too easy.

When Lin finally finds their cell, all of them are sitting on their bunks with their heads down. Lin bends the bars apart but none of them seem to care as they stare up at her. “Chief Beifong?” officer Song asks, his voice is weak and Lin immediately knows that she’s failed her men.

“I’m too late, aren’t I? That monster already took your bending, didn’t he?” Song nods, his face solemn and Lin clenches her fists, having to look away from him or else she might just crack. “I’m so sorry... Come on, let's get you out of here” Lin turns her back on them and hears them follow after her, that means yours is gone too, wherever you are.

When Lin rounds the corner, she finds Mako holding one of the guards against the wall, one of his fists alight with fire. “I scanned the entire prison, Korra and y/n aren’t here.”

“Why would Tarlock make up a story about getting attacked?” Mako drops the guy and the guard falls to the floor, there's liquid on the floor beneath him that wasn’t there before, that wimp pissed himself. “Because he has Korra” she replies, Lin pushes past Mako and squats down to be eye level with the shaking guard, she wraps her hand around his neck but doesn’t put any pressure on him, it’s a threat and his eyes widen in fear as he realizes it. “W-We don’t have the avatar! I… I swea-”

“Where is y/n, she most likely came in on the same truck as my officers” Lin demands. The color drains from his face at her question, he begins stuttering out some kind of incoherent reply about how he doesn’t know but she can tell he’s lying through his teeth. Lin applies pressure and asks again. “Where. Is. She?”

“Sh-she killed her guards, they took her to a special place!” the guard has spit falling out of the side of his mouth, tears racing down his cheeks, she loosens her hold just a bit. Did you kill someone? It must have been before they took your bending away. “Where?!”

“It’s done below, you have to take an eleva-”

“Show me” she growls out, she yanks him up to his feet and pushes him away from the wall, he stumbles a bit but Tenzin catches his forearm, she can tell he’s not too pleased with her but she doesn’t care. Mako leads Lin's men back to the tram while Tenzin stays with her, keeping his hold on the blubbering guard. He leads them back down where the officers were held but keeps moving forward. There’s a locked door made of solid platinum, the guard pulls a switch out of his pocket and flicks it, causing the door to harshly slide open with a bang. He keeps leading them, his shoulders shaking.

They go down a twisting staircase and stop at an elevator stationed at the halfway point. He opens the metal sliding doors up and the three climb inside. There are a million buttons on the panel in front of them, if Lin came alone she’d have no clue where to start, but thankfully this wimp knows exactly what button to press.

“Oh man, Amons gonna kill me” he sobs out, snot drips into his mouth as he throws his head into his hands. Tenzin gives Lin a look of discomfort, neither are good at comforting people, both can’t be around someone whos crying without becoming incredibly uncomfortable. Tenzin lets out a sigh when he realizes Lin won’t give in.

“We’ll take you with us, so he can’t,” he says softly, the guards head flies up to look at Tenzin, the air bender takes a step back as snot and spit going flying, Lin scrunches her nose up in disgust. “Really?” he whispers, Tenzin nods and before he can even stop it, the guard flings his arms around him and squeezes him tight. Lin feels a chuckle bubbling up her throat at the sight of Tenzin's horrified gaze, he mouths ‘help me’ but Lin just turns her head to look at the door. The elevator dings and the doors creak open to reveal a dark hallway ahead of them. The guard pulls away from Tenzin and pats his shoulder, offering him a smile full of gratitude.

He leads them down the hall before they stop at another door, also made of platinum. Once again he pulls out his controller full of switches and flicks one, making the door slam open. Its pitch black inside, Lin takes a hesitant step inside. The sound of something scraping against the floor echoed through the room and Lin steps out of the way just seconds before you appear, holding up a metal chair, you swing it where she once was.

“Y/n,” Lin says, she sees your arms shaking as you drop the chair, you fall to your knees from exerting to much energy, “Lin?” your voice is hoarse, and when you lift your head to glance up at her, something inside of her cracks. Your hair is matted with dry blood, the side of your face is caked in it and there are bags under your eyes, your skin is so pale and despite only being locked up for a week you look so weak, your cheeks are hollowed out.

Lin finally knocks herself out of her thoughts when she hears you whimper and she scrambles down onto her knees to cup your face, she inspects you for any open wounds, or signs of illness, you bring one of your hands up to loosely grip her wrist and Lin gasps at the sight of your bloodied fingers.

“She… uh she was scratching a lot when we first put her in here,” he says hesitantly. Lin’s head swings over to him, suddenly the promise Tenzin made seems impossible, she wants to kill him and anyone else involved in your suffering.

“Why?” Lin spits out before he can answer her you reply softly “it was so dark.” Lin pulls you into her arms, burrowing her head into the crook of your neck, you fall into her arms, letting go of any tension within you as you become pliant to her will.

Someone clears their throat and Lin lifts her head to see Tenzin staring at her in confusion. “We should hurry,” he says, Lin nods and goes to stand but you grip onto her shoulders, she looks down and sees you try to stand, but your legs shake and you almost fall back down. She catches you and picks you up bridal style, you rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes when you come out into the light. You hiss due to the pain and burrow your face into the fabric of her coat.

Something warm lights up her heart at the action but she smothers it, now's not the time. On the way back to the others Tenzin continues to stare at Lin oddly as the guard continues to lead them out.

You're sure this is a dream, you screamed for anyone down below, begged the spirits for a savior, and sobbed for mercy. But you gave up hope after a few days inside, it seemed you’d been left to rot, every few days someone would stop by with a small bowl of what can only be described as kitchen scraps and a sip of water. They were prolonging what felt like the inevitable, you felt so close to death, with your bending gone you had become weakened and you didn’t have any water to help strengthen you.

Halfway back to the others an ear-splitting siren went off as the lights in the prison repeatedly flashed red. Everyone broke into a sprint and ran down the stairs that reunited them with the others.

“Let's go, people!” Bolin calls out as everyone boards the tram, once inside Asami speeds off, behind them a set of headlights flashes as another tram picks up speed, Lin sees Bolin bend the tunnel into collapsing right on top of the second tram and if not for the situation she might have given him a pat on the back. Lin gives you to Tenzin who carefully holds you close as she shouts out “We got more company, hang on!” she shouts as she bends a metal vent to act as a ramp for them. Due to the speed of the tram, it keeps its momentum, she then bends away from the earth in front of them to allow them to enter another tunnel above.

The tram screeches as it's off its tracks and now on the stone before abruptly coming to a halt, everyone groans, the impact has caused them to either fly from their seats or in poor Asami’s case, bang her head into the metal wall in front of her. Tenzin had used his air bending to keep both of you seated, adding enough pressure that when everyone went flying, you both just experienced a jolt.

Lin opens up a hole above, letting the sun shed light on the otherwise dim tunnel. Tenzin gets everyone out with his air bending, including the officer that Lin is most definitely arresting and sentencing to life if she can have anything to do with it. Once up above, Lin goes to take you from his arms but Tenzin pulls back and stares her down.

“What was that about down there?” he questions. In another world Tenzin would have been the one fretting over you, he’d taken you both in and sworn to your parents that he’d protect you. Whilst Korra was a bit rough and hard to handle, you’d play with his children, you kept Jinora company when she felt left out, and helped feed the sky bison whenever you could.

You’d already talked to Pema about how you’d help with the delivery of their next child you’d briefly trained at a healing school in the southern tribe before you decided to follow Korra here and had helped many women deliver healthy babies into the world. You were like a daughter to him, so Lin's unusual display of affection almost unnerved him.

Before Lin can come up with some kind of retort, you turn your head, your eyes squinted as you try to adjust to the light. “Lin?” you say, you reach out for her and without thinking of Tenzin she steps closer and grabs your hand. “I need to take her to the hospital Tenzin and you need to deal with Tarlock.”

Tenzin scowls before carefully handing you to Lin, almost immediately you clutch her coat and snuggle in as close as you can. His brows knit together as the pieces of the puzzle finally snap into place. “But…” he begins, Lin stops him before he can bombard her with questions. “I need to get her to a doctor as soon as possible.” She knows later down the line she’ll have to have a long talk with him, explaining herself and… this thing between the two of you. She rushes off in the direction of the hospital, it’s four blocks away which isn’t too far but she’s filled with fear that somehow you’ll die in her arms if she doesn’t hurry. Once inside the waiting room, Lin calls out for help and two nurses rush forward with a wheelchair once they see you in her arms.

They whisk you away, or try to, one of the nurses tries to convince Lin to stay behind but she won’t be separated from you, not until she knows you're completely safe. “She’s my soulmate and I’ll arrest anyone who tries to keep me away from her right now.” That shuts her up. Lin’s never pulled that kind of card before, and honestly, she wouldn’t arrest someone unless they’d done something illegal but you're getting farther away and her heart is beating faster. The nurse blanches and Lin takes that as her queue to run after you.

The same doctor who looked after Lin, which he repeatedly tries to convince her to go back to her room and rest, to which she declines, looks you over for any injuries. The back of your head is healing, very slowly though and it doesn’t look like it’s been properly cleaned so he has one of the nurses do that as he checks the rest of your body.

“Does it hurt anywhere besides your head and your hands?” he asks, to which you can’t offer a proper reply. Everywhere hurts, you're sore and weak and you feel like if you close your eyes you may never open them again. The doctor sighs, “we need some bone broth and -” he starts listing off medicines to the nurses who scurry off and he orders two others to clean your fingers which elicits a pained groan out of you.

Lin kneels and stays there the whole time, once the nurse arrives with a warm bowl of broth Lin takes it from her and helps you sip it. She nudges her arm underneath your neck to prop your head up and gently brings the bowl up to your lips before tilting it slowly to allow only a little at a time. You happily drink it but can only get about halfway before you claim your too full to continue.

She frowns but relents, not wanting to push you. Eventually, the nurses move you to a proper bed, one like Lin’s, after they clean you up and tuck you underneath the blankets. You’ve long since fallen asleep and the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow throughout the room. You already look a bit better, one of the nurses gave Lin a warm, wet cloth when asked so she could gently wipe your face clean of all the dried up blood. It’s been roughly two hours since Lin entered the hospital and she already wants out, but not without you. This is a public place and therefore means it's easier to attack, if she lets her guard down Amon may very well try to steal you away once more.

Tenzin and the others, sans Korra, enters the hospital room as Lin finishes wiping up the dirt above your brow and when she hears them, she immediately sets the cloth onto the table, embarrassment floods through her at being caught and she knows she shouldn’t care but she does.

“Tarlock is a blood bender,” Bolin says, raising his hands in the air “and he has Korra!” Mako jabs Bolin in the stomach as everyone shushes him, you stir, letting out a groan before stilling once more, thankfully he didn’t wake you, or Lin definitely would have knocked some sense into him.

“We should all go to air temple island, we’ll be safer together-” Lin goes to speak up, she won’t leave you behind “- y/n will too. I spoke with a nurse outside who says she doesn’t have any serious injuries, just malnourished and therefore very weak. Food and rest will help.” He clears his throat and looks Lin in the eyes “I’d like to speak outside for a moment.”

She stands up, knowing that she needs to get this talk over with. Asami takes Lin's seat beside you as she walks out of the room and down the hall just enough so that they are out of earshot. “She’s my soulmate” Lin starts, her hand once more grazes the burnt mark that now fills her with so much regret. Tenzin looks away before letting out a deep sigh.

“How?” he questions. She lied to him for so long, he’s seen her body bare and knows that she doesn’t have a mark, anymore. His eyes follow her hand and a look of shock takes over his features “It wasn’t a work-related accident, was it?” His jaw clenches as he stares her down. She burnt it right before they went out for the first time, he’d claimed he would find the man responsible for her scar but she’d always shrugged it off. It makes sense.

“No… I was ashamed” she grits her teeth as she remembers sobbing over the burn, telling herself to get over it and that it was for the better. That she’d be happy with Tenzin and wouldn’t need some infantile immature young adult in her life. But you aren’t immature, you're so strong and courageous, she’s seen how you care for those around you and honestly, she doesn’t get how your friends with Bolin and Mako since they are both downright annoying whilst you are anything but.

“And now?” he questions, she knows he probably has a million little judgments he wants to spew out, most likely scold her for something that she can’t control and she’s grateful for him reigning it and trying to remain calm. She doesn’t think she can handle anything else that requires even an ounce of effort after how today has gone.

“I tried to push her away, I told her it wouldn’t work but…” Lin tries to find her next words but there's a lump forming in her throat and she will not cry, not in public, and definitely not in front of Tenzin.

“But she was captured” he finishes for her and she sharply nods, staring at some water stain on the wall up above his right shoulder. “I want you to be happy Lin, even if this does seem strange to me, if you both make each other happy then I’ll get over my preconceived judgments and support you both.”

Lin simply nods, tears are threatening to fall from her eyes so she mutters a “thank you” and heads to the bathroom to compose herself. Tenzin understands, he heads back to your hospital room as Lin barges into the thankfully empty bathroom and begins to cry. You're fine, you're safe and relatively healthy and you will be fine. All she can hope is that once you’ve recovered you’ll forgive her, Lin never apologizes or admits she's wrong but for you, she’ll do so in an instant. She’ll get on her knees for you, beg you even. She’ll be humiliated but it will have been worth it if you give her another shot, one that she’ll make sure she doesn’t screw up.

Tenzin’s approval means so much to her, he probably doesn’t realize it either. She might never be close to him again after what happened but she still sees him as her family, if he’d have shamed her Lin wouldn’t have been able to go on, which she’ll never let him know.

Lin wipes the tears out of her eyes and waits until the redness and puffiness die down before leaving the bathroom and heading back into your room. You're sitting up and are listening to Tenzin with a tired smile on your face as he talks to you about who knows what. Your hair is still caked in dried up blood with bags under your eyes but still, you take Lins breath away.

Tenzin ushers everyone out of the room to give the two of you privacy, Bolin puts up a bit of a fight but relents when Lin fixes him with a glare that has him racing on out of the room before anyone else. Tenzin places his hand on Lin’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze before shutting the door behind him on the way out.

“Lin” you begin and in an instant, she’s rushing over to your side, she stops herself just as she’s about to take your hand, worried about your reaction. You slowly reach your hand up and interlock your fingers, there’s this look on your face like you're waiting for Lin to pull away in disgust. Instead, Lin gives your hand a gentle squeeze and slowly sits on the stool beside her bed like before.

“I’m sorry,” she says earnestly before you can say whatever was on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes widen but you don’t respond, you're waiting for her to continue, to elaborate so you don’t end up getting hurt again.

“I..” Lin gulps, “I thought I’d be a burden to you, I’m old, practically married to my job, I definitely won’t be winning any awards for my personality-” you crack a smile at that, it warms her heart “-and I don’t want kids. I thought maybe you’d want someone like Bolin or Mako because they could give you those kinds of things I can’t, I like to be in bed by nine and I’ve never even set foot in a dance club before. I’m… I’m not young like you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, Lin furrows her brows but otherwise nods, your other hand, the one not holding Lin's hand comes up to rest on her scarred cheek. “Did you ever think that maybe I want everything you can give me? No matter how much or how little it may be. I don’t want kids, sure they're nice but they are messy and time-consuming, it’s a job for life with no weekends.” Lin laughs at that, spirits, she doesn’t know if she believes you, it seems too good to be true.

“I can’t take someone else leaving me” she states, a pained look settling on her features. Your eyes soften and you pull Lin closer to you, she’s leaning against the bed now, your noses almost touching. You rub your thumb soothingly across her cheek, you're trying to find the right words to say. You can’t mess this up.

“I can’t promise I’ll never get mad at you or I'll never irritate you. We’ll probably have a string of fights throughout our years together but… I’ll never leave you, Lin, you’re all I want out of this life.” Lin’s eyes widen as unshed tears brim at the corners of her eyes. She’s never been told something so heartfelt, so romantic before.

She leans up further until your lips are inches apart and waits for a breath, waits to see if you’ll pull away, and claim that this is all a joke. But instead, you close the gap and let go of her hand just so you can cup both sides of her face. Your lips are so soft and delicate as you pull her closer until your chest to chest like back on the tram. Lin deepens the kiss, her hands resting on your waist, she’s too scared of gripping you in fear of hurting you in your fragile state. You lick the bottom of her lip and she opens her mouth all too eagerly, her knee is now resting on the edge of the bed so she can wrap her arms around you, pulling you flush against her.

Too soon you pull away from her, panting against her mouth and when Lin opens her eyes she has to fight the urge to pull you back into another passionate kiss. Your pupils are blown, cheeks flushed a deep red with swollen lips. She tries to capture it within her mind for safekeeping

“I think I love you” you whisper, your voice is hoarse and you thread your fingers through her hair, lightly gripping it. Lin has to keep herself from moaning at said action. That cynical side of her brain shouts within her skull that you're lying but Lin ignores it, she pecks you on the lips which you eagerly try to deepen but she pulls away just a few inches so she can talk.

“I think I love you too,” Lin whispers, too scared of breaking this moment that almost feels sacred. A smile spreads across your lips as you pull her into a kiss once more. Lin happily kisses you, her heart blooms with a million budding roses, all for you as she finally lets go of all her fears, all her insecurities, and enjoys the feel of you against her. Finally, she thinks

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 7

I.VII

Masterlist

Warning: rough sex, degradation, sub drop

Song(s): “Power” by Bastille

After your call, Hotch finds himself straightening up his living room, cleaning the day-old cups, plates, and bottles off the table, and washing all the dishes in the sink. He’s not sure why he’s so worried about keeping the place clean, but he just knows you’ll make some comment about it when you get here. You’re always making sarcastic, snippy comments about everything he does. That’s not to say he doesn’t laugh at you or enjoy your biting humor, it’s refreshing to meet someone driven who is still able to maintain levity and positivity.

His eyes dart to the clock, checking the time once again, hoping you’ll knock on the door soon. His mind wanders back to your previous rendezvous in his office. He feels the blood rush to his face and neck, already feeling excited to see you. You’re absolutely wicked… and he loves it.

He’s hypnotized by you. It’s in the way you always press that pen of yours to your bottom lip and pull it down a little. You know just how to catch his attention and make him stumble over his words, and he’s pretty sure you manage to do it without even consciously trying. That’s what mystifies him the most. The way you’re so naïve to your own power over him.

He’s sure that when asked, you would merely deny it, laughing off the idea. You would argue that it’s he who has the power in this relationship. Deep down, it's you. You will always have power over him. He is truly risking everything for you. It’s not like he hasn’t done all of this before, but with you he’s already taken more risks than ever. He’s broken a daily meeting schedule. He’s texting you from his private number. He’s inviting you over to his house.

The loud knock at the door pulls him out of his thoughts and he rushes over to answer.

He lets a large smile come over his face but it falls once he sees you. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair falling around your face wildly, probably from running your hands through it so much. Your arms are firmly crossed against your chest. You look as if you’re actually about to explode with rage.

"Please, be less excited to be here," Hotch tries to joke and tease you but you barely crack a smile, pushing past him into the house.

"Fuck Charles Miller," You groan out and drop onto the couch in Hotch’s living room.

Hotch is plenty familiar with Charles Miller. In all honesty, he would love to never hear about or see Charles Miller ever again. "He did something to you?"

You glance over at him, biting your bottom lip fiercely, "He kissed me. Well… I kissed him." You pause, "No he kissed me."

The room is completely silent for a second, the only sound is your heavy breathing as you attempt to calm down. Hotch isn’t sure what to say. For starters, he’s definitely not happy to hear you’re going around kissing other men. Boys. Not men. Charlie Miller is hardly a man.

"It’s just… who the fuck does he think he is? I’m just absolutely sick of men who think that just because you show them the smallest modicum of kindness, it means you want to sleep with them. For fuck’s sake, Charlie is my best friend, was he just thinking about sleeping with me this whole time?" You heave out another long sigh, "Listen I’m not entirely innocent, I kissed him back but he was so touchy, you know? So really it’s his fault. And mine… I don’t know."

Hotch knows that you could ramble on forever if he doesn’t say something. To be honest, he doesn’t care about the specifics of who kissed who. Something about that boy’s hands all over you makes his anger levels rise. "He did what?" His voice is strained and he sounds much angrier than he intends to.

Your eyes snap up to his, obviously aware of the intense tone of his voice. "Did you not listen to what I just said?"

"I heard what you said," He feels himself grinding his teeth together, tightening every muscle in his jaw. He crosses his arms, holding one hand up to his face, rubbing his fingers together slightly. Your eyes dart down to his hand and that’s when he stops the small motion. He’s doing the hand thing again. The thing you pointed out to him. Now that he’s aware of it, he feels intensely vulnerable. Almost exposed. You can tell this is getting to him and it’s because of that damned hand thing.

"Are you angry with me?" You stand up from the couch and Hotch stays grounded in place. What he really wants to do is walk over to you, wrap his hand around your neck, yank you close to him, and kiss you until you’re weak in the knees. He wants to remind you just how good you are with him. Just how amazing it feels to be passionate with you.

"No," His curt reply gives him away. He can’t pretend that this information about you and Charlie isn’t eating away at him.

"You’re mad at me." You say it again, as a statement of fact. In reality, he’s not angry with you. He’s angry with himself. He’s angry at himself for letting you affect him so much. He’s angry at himself because he knows he’s growing attached. He knows it’s not fair to be possessive with you. He can’t ask you to be exclusively sleeping with him when he has no intentions to pursue anything real with you. It’s a physical attraction. Does he enjoy spending time with you? Yes. Does he ever foresee himself spending time with you without having sex with you? Probably not.

"I’m not mad at you." Hotch shakes his head slightly but his closed-off body language is giving him away. He curses himself again for teaching you so well. For telling you all about reading body language to understand people better. He curses himself because he sees the way those wide eyes of yours run over his body, drinking in every detail of him. Your eyes are back on his face, tracing over the lines of his face. He’s always prided himself on a good poker face, but it’s insanely obvious the discomfort he feels at the current moment.

You scoff, "I’m going to leave. I can’t… it’s late and I don’t feel like fighting with you over this," You keep your arms firmly crossed and walking back towards the front door, but Hotch shoots his hand out to grab your arm. He can’t let you simply walk out of here.

"I don’t want to fight with you," His replies are short. He doesn’t really know what to say. He can’t possibly tell you that the jealousy surging through him is burning him. It’s shredding him apart and he doesn’t know if he can hold it all in. He doesn’t want anyone else to put their hands on you the way that he puts his hands on you. No one will appreciate you the way he does. He understands you. He knows how you work. He knows how your mind works. That’s why he gets to have you. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

He understands your drive for success, your passion to be at the top. He recognizes the same qualities in you as he sees in himself. There’s a long moment where the two of you just stand there. His hand firmly gripping your upper arm and your eyes searching his facial expression for any sign of what he might be thinking.

"You have no right to be mad at me. For all I know you could be sleeping with every other bright-eyed, ambitious law student that runs up to you after class begging for extra help," He feels you starting to pull away from him but he keeps his grip on your arm tight to keep you close.

He shakes his head subtly, furrowing his brows, "But I’m not. I haven’t slept with anyone else since I started this with you." He pauses for a second, "Have you been sleeping with other people?"

"No, no," You shake your head, "It’s just you. I’m only sleeping with you."

Hotch expects that to ease the knots and turning of his stomach but it doesn’t. He still feels the anger and jealousy coursing through him like fire rippling under his skin.

——

"I don’t like that he—" Hotch pauses as he glances down at his hand that is still firmly wrapped around your arm. You can sense that he's struggling with his words. He’s looking for the right way to say what he’s thinking. It confuses you. Hotch confuses you. How could someone so intelligent, so composed, so utterly ruthless in the courtroom, so attention-grabbing, so demanding and dominant in every sphere of life struggle to form words around you?

"I don’t like that he put his hands on you. I don’t like that he touched your body." Hotch’s jaw clicks into place, tensed with clenched teeth. Now it’s your turn to struggle with your words. What could you possibly say to alleviate what he’s feeling? You can’t tell him how Charlie had his hand up your skirt. So you do the only thing that you know will make him feel better. The only thing that will pull him out of his head right now.

You move in close and kiss him passionately. Immediately, you can sense just how riled up he is. His hands race over your body, grabbing any flesh he can in his needy grip.

Hotch pulls away from you for a second, breathless, cheeks flushed, "I don’t want anyone else touching you like this," His voice comes out as a low gravelly moan and he kisses you again.

Between kisses and moans, you utter, ‘Bedroom?’ and Hotch simply takes you through his home, only breaking the kiss for a second to lead you upstairs. He grabs your hand in his, practically pulling you up the stairs behind him. Within seconds of stepping into his room, he has you pinned up against the wall behind you, his lips passionately meeting yours.

"Care to show me all the ways that no one else is allowed to touch me?" You smirk as his head burrows its way under your jaw, his mouth nipping lightly at your skin.

"You know one of these days that smart mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble," He grabs your face, shoving his thumb into your mouth. You grin at him as you slowly suck, swirling your tongue around his thumb, showing him just how much your ‘smart mouth’ can do. When he drags his thumb from your mouth, he trails a line of saliva down your chin but doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

"Sorry, sir," You pout slightly and from the way his glossy eyes run down your body, you know that you two won’t be able to tease each other for long tonight. Both of you just need each other right now. Your body is practically begging him, the deep fire of arousal growing in the pit of your stomach.

Every single touch sets you on fire and you know that together you are explosive. You and hotch are dynamic. He takes your breath away just to shock you back to life with every electrifying touch, look, kiss, and word.

In this moment, as the two of you barrel backward towards the bed, you’re aware just how deep into this you are already. You’re already being sucked into this whirlwind of an affair with Hotch. But if there's anything you know of illicit affairs, eventually the fire will dwindle. The excitement of it all will fade. You don’t know when, and you don’t know how, but you just know it will. But you don’t have time to consider that now, while Hotch continues his assault on your neck, his hands traveling all the way down your torso, his fingertips featherlight on your skin contrasting with the small sharp nips he gives your neck and collarbone.

His fingertips ghost up under your shirt, tracing over the bare skin on your abdomen and you let out a hiss over your clenched teeth when his warm hands begin to massage your breasts through the cups of your bra.

"You don’t need anyone else," His hands make quick work of removing your shirt and pants and unclasping your bra. You attempt to keep up with his fast pace reaching for his shirt and pulling it up over his head. "I think I need to remind you," Once all your clothing now lives in a pile on the floor, Hotch moves to hover over you, his lips inching ever closer to yours but never touching, "That no one can fuck you like I can."

"Please," You whine helpless and submissive in his presence, "I need you, sir."

"No one can touch you like this," Hotch leans in close to murmur by your ear. Your heart is racing as his fingers thrust into you at an agonizingly slow start. You scrunch your eyes shut in an attempt to contain your pleasure.

"Eyes open, look at me pretty girl," He grabs your chin in his hands, tilting your face up towards him, "I want to see your face when I make you come."

His fingers work faster and deeper, rough and unrelenting, sending you closer and closer to your orgasm. You lean up, to press another kiss to his lips, your legs feeling shaky as you struggle to breathe properly, the tension building in your body like a sneeze.

You’re reduced to a series of incoherent pants and chants but you settle on just begging him. "Please sir, please! Please make me come, Sir."

Hotch doesn’t let up on his motions but reaches to rub your clit with his thumb. The sensation is enough to send you toppling over the edge, screaming and moaning his name as you tighten around his fingers.

Hotch practically lifts you entirely up off the bed, to flip you over so that your face is pressed into the mattress. He runs his rough, calloused hands over your ass, which is turning a myriad of lovely colors at this point. You hiss at the sensitivity which elicits a wicked chuckle from Hotch, "I see I have a lasting impression on you," He braces himself, rubbing just the tip of his cock against you. You attempt to squirm around, hoping to gain just a little bit more contact from him. Your heart is still racing wildly, your breath coming in short pants after your first orgasm.

He immediately buries himself inside of you and your eyes start to roll back in your head.

"Oh fuck daddy, you’re so big," You let out a strangled groan and cry of pleasure, your body trembling and shaking uncontrollably.

"And you’re going to take all of me, aren’t you doll?" His hands claw and grab at your ass and hips, as he attempts to steady himself. He thrusts into you, bottoming out before pulling out entirely just to slam into you over and over again. That, in combination with the dull aching pain from your bottom, causes you to grab the comforter and sheets on the bed tightly in your fists.

Your mind is spinning with the combination of pain and pleasure, biting down harshly on your bottom lip to contain your loud cries.

Hotch tangles a hand in your hair, simultaneously yanking you up closer while he bends down close to your ear, "Don’t go quiet on me now, baby," His voice gets caught in his throat a little in between moans, "There’s no one else here. Let me hear just how good I make you feel."

Hotch releases your head forcefully and you have to stick your arms out to keep from smashing your face into the mattress. You let out a series of curses as Hotch continues his reckless pace. He raises his hand to smack your ass again and this time it hurts, like really fucking hurts and you can’t help but scream out, "Fuck!"

"I’m gonna come again, sir!" You moan louder and louder with each unrelenting thrust and you attempt to crane your head around to look at him. Your arms are shaking and you can barely hold yourself up as you feel your orgasm take over your whole body, vision blurring, your mind falling into the foggy high.

"Good girl," Hotch grunts and continues to fuck you through your orgasm, which just seems to heighten the immense pleasure coursing through you. You’re so spent you don't even realize that he’s finished and his thrusts have come to a shuddering halt. He rolls over next to you, and the both of you just stay there for a few moments as you attempt to catch your breath. You don’t roll over to your back, way too weak to even move at the moment. You feel Hotch’s arm tuck underneath your body, helping you roll over, sliding you up on the bed a little.

"You alright?" He looks over you. You finally get a good look at him and you smile widely at the small pieces of hair that have fallen out of place. There's a slight sheen on his forehead and cheeks, and the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he attempts to catch his breath has you feeling flustered all over again.

"Mhm," You moan and stretch your arms up, your muscles already growing sore. He nods in response and turns his attention away from you, throwing his head back, leaning against the headboard. You tuck your legs under the cool sheets on his bed, finally getting some nice relief for your completely bruised and flaming hot bottom.

You both sit there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound is the soft hum of the ceiling fan which seems to be what’s drawing Hotch’s attention. Your attention, however, can’t be pulled away from him. You trace your eyes over his hooked nose, his soft lips, his sharp jawline.

You avert your eyes before you speak to him, "I don’t want other people… other women to get to touch you like this either."

The room goes silent. He’s much quieter than you expect. Not that Hotch is much of a conversationalist after sex, or even in general. The space between your bodies suddenly seems like a great divide when nearly seconds ago your bodies couldn’t be any closer. He huffs softly.

"What?" Your ego takes a heavy blow from the way he dismissively lets air out of his nose again. You force a little laugh to hide your confusion and discomfort, "Is that so unreasonable for me to ask of you?"

"I already told you earlier, I haven’t slept with anyone since we started sleeping together," He shifts in the bed. You swear you see his fingers start to rub together but as soon as your eyes dart down to his hand he stops.

"Well, that isn’t exactly the same as what I’m asking of you." Your firmer tone catches Hotch’s attention. He looks over at you.

"When would I find the time to sleep with someone else. I’m busy with the three courses I teach and I have my hands full with you already." His jaw is set tight, his eye line unwavering from the focus on your face. There is not even a ghost of a smile on his face. He’s stone-cold, unreadable, completely stoic.

"Your hands full? What does that even mean?" Scrunching up your brows you attempt to move a little closer to him. It feels as if the room just got colder and the space between the two of you grows by the second.

"I spend a lot of time with you, that’s all. There’s no one else I would sleep with right now anyway." He starts to pull off the covers and swings his legs around to the side of the bed, forcing you to look at his back. He’s hunched over, running his hands over his face, resting his elbows on his thighs. You can see the frustration with you in his body language. I mean his body is practically screaming at you to shut up and leave him alone. Have you really upset him that much by simply asking him not to see other people?

That’s when you start gnawing at your bottom lip. He’s dodging your request. He’s giving you responses, but not a simple, ‘I won’t sleep with anyone else.’ His responses are conditional. He’s not sleeping with anyone else just because there isn’t anyone else who interests him. But if there was someone who did? Would he sleep with them? Even though he has you?

It’s wildly unfair. You’re not allowed to see anyone else but he gets to dance around your question and act all vague and mysterious., Not only does it show a lack of respect for you, but it's becoming increasingly clear that he doesn’t see you as his equal in any way. He doesn’t believe he has to hold himself to the standards that you hold him to.

"It’s late. You should get home soon, I’m sure you have class early tomorrow." Hotch gets up from the bed, walking into his bathroom.

You hear the shower water run in the bathroom and Hotch steps back into the room, walking to his dresser to get out clean clothes. You’re speechless, barely managing to get out the word, "What?" You sit up to get a better look at him, pulling the sheets to wrap around your body.

"I can call you a car or something so you can get home," He nods, adjusting the towel wrapped around his waist. Is he really kicking you out on your ass at this hour? It’s nearly two in the morning, and he’s kicking you out?

"No, I can call a car myself," You gather up your clothes in your arms, wishing to be clothed and out of his home as soon as possible. Hotch wordlessly disappears into his bathroom. The door closes and it seems to rattle you deep down. That last slam of a door is the one thing that seems to finally break you out of the dreamy, lust-filled haze that has been your time with Professor Hotchner. The rose-colored glasses come off for you to realize that this agreement is inherently flawed.

That’s the thing about torrid affairs with their stolen glances and electric touches. Eventually, the spark dies. The mystery and thrill of it all fade away. Eventually, it stalls. It starts to die. And from there?

Well, there’s only one way to go from there.

Down.

Chapter 8: I.VIII →

[aclosetfan]

Ask Game: Any number that has been asked yet.

oof ope sorry I missed this! I've got a ton of homework (school started up again :/ one year left tho!), but I'm going to take a moment to get this out of my ask box!!

No one ever asked about Operation Bummer, which I really only like for the name tbh. It's a blues story. BubsxBoomer = Bummer. get it?? listen, it's funny, okay? trust me. it should be their pairing name but not one ever listens to me 🙄

Okay, so let me set the stage:

Bloss: she's home for the summer :( and she doesn't want to be. She's going into her sophomore year of undergrad somewhere on the east coast, and like most almost sophomores from prestigious schools, she thinks she knows everything.

Bubbles: studying to be a Spanish teacher! Also a sophomore, but going to TownU in Townsville. Has a huge huge huge crush on her Spanish partner Pablo, but he breaks her heart early on, and she's taking it out on every guy she knows.

Butters: not in college. Didn't know what to do with her life, so she just stayed home. Acting super sus. And now constantly smells like cupcakes (??) as opposed to sweat and dirt. (She's still bloody tho?) Idk it's just sus. She's also making *~pancakes~* more often!

Brick: "it's summertime, I've got my hat on backward, and it's time to party." (low-key high-key excited that Bloss is back for the summer because things were getting way too boring in Townsville without her to mess with)

Butch: Coming home every morning bruised, bloody, and PISSED. which isn't too abnormal, but he's not making them ~*waffles*~ anymore :/

Boomer: would like to make out with someone. is not making out with someone. horny.

The Quick and Dirty Plot Rundown:

the girls and the boys don't get along at all

the greens are in a suspiciously good mood until one day they're not

this affects both Blossom and Brick, respectively, because they've gotten quite used to their green sibling cooperating to their ever whim.

Separately, Bloss confronts Bubs, and Brick confronts Boomer. The reds are like "OMG somethings totally absolutely utterly wrong with [insert green sibling]. Aren't they acting totally strange???

the blues are both like lol no? [insert green sibling] is always grumpy. it was actually more weird that they were so uncharacteristically happy???

the red, respectively, are like, uh no [insert blue sibling], you are most definitely wrong. we need to investigate.

the blues and the reds end up figuring out that both the green siblings were acting weird through so happenstance--I'm thinking like a cheesy fight, where the greens don't allow their red siblings to blow a bunch of hot air and waste everyone's time. The reds are highly offended by this sentiment and start bitching about their siblings.

the reds somehow (in all their superior wisdom and intellect /s) are like "OMG wait! They must have been banging!" (Blossom doesn't say banging tho, that's Brick).

the blues are like uh no????????????????? they most definitely weren't.

the reds are like lol you two are so cute they definitely were, secretly because they thought we'd be mad, and then they broke up, and now they're fighting like exes, and this doesn't benefit us anymore because no one's making pancakes/waffles in the morning, and the reason breakfast isn't happening is because they're so upset about the break-up. (Brick really really hits the waffle thing and everyone ends up being like OK dude we GET it. and again, he's like no you don't.)

Blues are like srsly guys this is a real stretch

((because it is. the greens weren't/aren't dating.))

reds are like lmao shut up we're getting them back together. (it's also hinted that the reds are a little bored)

so the reds make up all these crazy schemes to get the greens together again and force the blues to execute the plans! Why the blues? well, the reds obviously can't execute the plans because as Brick states, "coaches don't play." Anyhow, the reds are too busy trying to one-up each other to honestly care if their plans work.

And because they honestly don't care, the plans keep backfiring.

for real, the greens don't like each other so ofc the plans aren't working on them. You wanna know who the plans are working on tho???

yeah.

lmao.

the blues.

the plans are going so horribly wrong that the blues bond over how pointless the project is. Boomer's like, "why am I the dumb one again?" and Bubbles like, "lmao dude mood." And then as time progresses, they start to have fun with it.

during the "dinner and a movie," they initiate a popcorn fight in the middle of a cheesy romcom

during the "whoa did I just randomly run into you at the mall?? Plan," they have fun trying to outdo each other at the shitty arcade games.

At the carnival, they stuff their faces with concession stand food and ride all the rides until they get sick (and end up holding hands on the Ferris wheel "accidentally")

you can see where this is going right? A bunch of cute dates where the blues learn the importance of "not judging a book by its cover" and "listen you wanted to make out with someone, it might as well be your sworn enemy, they're not doing anything important today anyway."

I'm so gross, I literally plan a "seven minutes in heaven" scene just because I can.

Sorry, I digress.

Obviously, the blues are getting cozy, the reds are fighting, and the greens are getting hella suspicious. Rather simultaneously, the greens corner their respective blues and (in boomer's case) beat the info out of them.

The reds "brilliant" idea unravels fast. Turns out, Butch was pissy because he was having trouble beating this new guy that just randomly popped up in the underground fighting ring he was participating in

buttercup is pissy because she's trying to keep the little bakery she secretly works part-time at open by making a extra cash on the side. To do so she started participating in this underground fighting ring, and Butch is getting a little too close for comfort in terms of discovering her true identity. She also has an inconsistent sleep schedule and it's making her a little nutty.

the "truce" ends

things go back to "normal"

the end?

nope.

Buttercup's like, "hey bloss--

"--is there something off about Boomer?" Butch asked Brick.

What, no, you're crazy, [insert blue sibling] is always like this, says the red sibling

Shockingly, the reds are wrong again.

The blues are heartbroken. They don't get to go out on their "dates" anymore, they don't get to have fun anymore, and most importantly, there's no more making out :((((

The greens--incredibly astute for a bunch of dumb angry jocks--put two and two together fast, and are like, "oh fuck off for real?? We're seriously doing this?? We're seriously going to play matchmaker??"

they both agree no no they'll absolutely not do that! Not at all! No way! No freakin--oh no is [insert blue sibling] crying?

So, ANYWAY, boom! Operation Bummer is in full swing all over again. The greens put aside their differences to help their favorite blue siblings because there's nothing worse than seeing a blue sibling pout.

The greens are definitely like "this is really going to make our strictly working relationships so weird, but whatever, if they break up, then things just go back to normal anyway."

They threaten the reds :) confront the blues :) get them back together so they'll finally stop crying :) tentatively smooth things over with their parental figures :) and then, when peace is finally achieved, the greens go right back to fighting each other like HIM intended :)

(but ya know, after everything they've been through, maybe now when they fight, they avoid punching each other in the face. it doesn't mean anything. it isn't like they like each other or anything. that would be soooo stupid...lol unless--)

[cockasinthebird]

Prompt 212! I hope it's a good one, but it's your writing so I'm sure it'll be fantastic! Congrats again on 500!! 💕😊💖 -opaldraws

@opaldraws yeah I’m also tagging your other blog, what about it 😌💕

212. “Did you just call to get off to my voice?”

Now, I haven’t written it a lot, but I absolutely L O V E phone sex fics, and for the sake of it, I’ve written this a bit into the future; not quiet a modern day au, but more of an... early 2000′s au, because I wanted them to have phones, but not something modern and smart, so for the sake of the prompt, imagine that they both have that super iconic Nokia 3310, you know exactly which one 😂😂🤣

Also this includes mechanic Billy, another of my favourite aus

Thank you again so much for prompting me, babe!!!! I think it’s fantastic, so, for your pleasure, 1.7k words, enjoy~

-

Steve rolls around in sheets that still smell of Billy. He stretches out with a grunt, naked and lazy blissful, the clock on his side of the bed says 10:13 am, on a typical Tuesday morning. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and stares at a water stain in the corner of the ceiling, one which Billy claims that if you squint, it looks like a voluptuous woman. 

To think, three months they’ve lived here now, a shitty little one bedroom apartment down on mainstreet, walking distance from the workshop and Family Video, yet Billy insists every day on driving the camaro, revving the engine and showing off in front of his envious coworkers. 

Three months since they became official, three months since Neil kicked Billy out, three months since Steve’s father cut him out of the will. 

Three months they’ve spent every night together, yet, as Steve presses his face into Billy’s pillow, inhaling the musky scent of his sweat, he still yearns all the same as he did back in high school. The same old desperation and neediness fills him just at the mere thought of his boyfriend. And he’s hardly to blame, being naked in their bed, in their apartment. 

He breathes in deep again and sighs contentedly into the fabric, raising his hips to allow for a hand to slip beneath, fingers grazing gently across hardening flesh.

Their schedules don’t always align, Billy being off on weekends, Steve on, leaving the poor brunette home alone Tuesdays and Thursdays. And he misses him already, as needy and pathetic and clingy as that might be, making him anxious and doubtful, but Billy calls it cute and sweet and that, “I miss you, too, baby,” so maybe someday Steve will learn that this kind of behaviour and thought is ok when you’re in love, and won’t get pushed away for it.

Billy never pushes him away, no he holds him, kisses him, loves him. Tells him every day with the sweetest kisses. In the mornings when they’re rushing off to work because they stayed in bed for too long. In the evening when they’re cooking dinner and eating together by the little round table. In the night when they’re pressed together soft and slow, rough and fast, skin on skin on skin.

Steve closes his hand around his full dick and strokes at a far too slow pace, enjoying the pleasant sparks that spread around his lower abdomen and thighs, not enough for release, but enough for him to moan lightly into Billy’s pillow. He runs his other arm beneath it to hug it tighter against his face, wishing to be as close to Billy as he can right now.

God he really needs Billy right now… Billy Billy Billy… If he closes his eyes and focuses hard enough, he can almost imagine that it’s Billy’s hand stroking him now, calloused and worn from work, strong and firm, he tightens his grip, thrusting into his fingers with jittery and impatient hips.

He turns his head to look at his phone on the bedside table, thinking, tempted to call. And he only really wastes a few brief seconds convincing himself, before he’s reaching for it with his free hand, the motion of his other hand becoming lackadaisical as he finds Billy’s phone number on his phone.

The ringing like a drum solo, his heart beating hard and loud in tact. 

“Hey honey,” Billy says with a voice pure with adoration, and Steve’s heart calms down immediately, feeling his dulcet tone embrace his heart.

“You’re up early,” he teases.

“Yeah, I…” Steve trails off, not really sure what to say, just really wanted to listen to Billy talk. “H-how’s work?”

“Oh you won’t believe what I’m looking at!” the eagerness in his voice palpable, “This old couple comes in with the most gorgeous Cadillac from the 70s! Says they’re taking retirement ‘on the road’, but it’s been sputtering an awful lot lately, so now,” he pauses for the sake of dramatic effect, “I get to clean this old gals engine! New spark plugs, cleaning the carburetor, and an oil change on the house.”

Even if Steve doesn’t know what any of that really means, he gets a near second-hand thrill from how excited Billy is. Also it paints a perfect picture, Billy with his jumpsuit tied around his waist because he loves to show off those arms, covered in oil and grease and sweat, the dirty, white tank top, hair tied back.

There’s a longer pause before Billy asks, “What are you up to?” something in his tone that might imply he knows exactly what Steve’s doing.

“I-I’m still in bed,” Steve responds with all the self-control he has, albeit not a lot of it.

“Oh yeah?” Billy’s voice deep and raspy all of a sudden. “And what are you doing in bed? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re sleeping.”

Steve rolls on to his back and looks down at where his prick has started leaking; the pre helping with the dryness as he swipes his thumb over the head. 

“Come on, princess,” Billy drawls when there’s no response, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I-I- ahh…” Steve moans gingerly before biting down on his lip. “I’m touching myself.”

“Thinking about anyone in particular?”

The obvious answer being, “You.”

His phone nearly vibrates when Billy chuckles like rolling thunder. “So… did you just call to get off to my voice?”

“Yes,” Steve says without a filter, lust slowly pulling him apart as he jerks a bit faster to the sensuous tone of Billy.

“That’s awfully naughty of you.”

A breathless, “Fuck,” escapes him as he screws his eyes shot to picture Billy again.

“Calling me like this, in the middle of my work day… Do you know how hard that makes me? Listening to you pant and moan like that? Making it impossible to focus on my work, baby.”

He leans into the phone, moans a bit louder, unadulterated, let’s out a slight, “Billy…”

And Billy laughs. “Oh that’s so unfair, you saying my name like that when I can’t do anything about it. When I come home later, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The echo of a lock comes through the phone and Steve blinks open.

“What are you doing?”

Next he hears just a light clink of a belt.

“I’m in the employees bathroom, taking a break. You didn’t think I’d just let you get off on your own, did you? Don’t be so selfish.”

“Billy, are you-”

“I am,” he sighs with satisfaction - a roughness to the edge of his voice.

A sigh and insinuation that gives Steve all the right clues for the perfect picture of Billy, sitting with his legs spread out, cock out through the hole in his boxers to stroke it, making Steve’s own kick and drip more. He slides further down their bed as he raises his hips into his fist, closing his eyes again to focus on Billy’s breathing, his words.

“Mmmh, when I get off from work, when I get home in 4 hours, you better be naked, waiting for me as I step through the door.”

Steve imagines it just so, listening to Billy like he’s being told a story- a promise. 

“We won’t make it to the bedroom - I can’t wait that long to touch you again.”

“Billy,” he whines and runs his hand a bit too fast, chasing an all too soon release.

“I’m gonna have you bent over the dining table, eating you out till you’re begging me to finger you open. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty boy?”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck-” 

Each word sending static shivers through his entire being, making him buck his hips harder, thrusting with abandon into the whimsical motion of his hand. He presses the phone between his face and the pillow, to allow his left hand the freedom to go down, squeezing his balls tenderly, pressing and massaging his taint beneath.

“God, shit- arrh- listen to you, princess, so obedient and willing… Getting so wet just from my voice, hmmm…” his deep, carnal humming vibrates through the phone. “And once you’re all stretched out and ready from four of my fingers, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be on the verge of tears, all sensitive from my big cock.”

“Please, Billy,” he whines, oh so close, the fuse burning quickly at the speed of his hand.

“Fuck I love it when you say my name like that, all needy and horny and pliant, begging for me to pound your ass, fuck- ah-”

“Billy,” Steve whines and really milks it for all it’s worth, drawing it out into a full moan. “Billy I’m so close.”

“Let me hear you cum, baby,” Billy growls out, rugged with laboured breathing.

“God, fuck- fuck, a-ah-” And Steve doesn’t keep quiet, opens wide as he arches his back, lifts his hips high into the air as he pumps himself with fervor, cum spurting from his throbbing cock and onto his chest, a splash reaching his throat from the raised angle. Billy has, on numerous occasions, called it “pornographic,” says that Steve gives a better performance, riding on his dick, than any of the actors on tape.

Billy grunts and groans on the other end, struggling to keep his own euphoria down no doubt, but it is clear to Steve that his boyfriend is right there with him, and listening to him cum gives him a deep rooted thrill, an incredible sense of satisfaction that can almost rival his own orgasm.

They pant and gasp for air together, Billy sounding more like he’s been diving too deep for too long, but chuckles all the same.

“Mmmmh glad you called, bambi,” he hums deep and satisfied and happy.

A joy that brings such elation to Steve’s own heart.

“Me, too,” he laughs back, short and utterly exhausted. He could absolutely go for a nap now.

“Now, you have…” a pause as Billy no doubt looks at his wristwatch, “three hours and about twenty minutes to get cleaned up, regain your energy, and drink lots of water, because when I get home, I’m gonna have to punish you for this.”

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter fifteen

genre: angst

warnings: prison, mentions of solitary confinement, mentions of physical abuse, spoilers for The Good Doctor, spoilers for Lucifer, alcohol, drugging

word count: 7.1k

summary: spencer gets used to life in prison in the worst ways. amelia goes through a rollercoaster of emotions and tries to cope with spencer being out of reach. she tries to stay positive and convince others that she is okay.

i’d like to say once again that having a good understanding of the prison arc is helpful in reading this fic. i don’t explain every single detail (because it’s unnecessary to) and if you’re not familiar w the storyline, it’ll be harder to comprehend.

school is over so i’ll have more time to edit and post!!!! yay!! enjoy the chapter :)

SPENCER

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, it's clear!"

My heart pounds against my chest and that's all I can feel. Absolute fear and absolute helplessness. I can't do anything here. I've accepted that but maybe I've just been lying to myself. How can I ever accept that I can't do anything to protect myself or protect others? I’ve spent my life protecting. I need to protect. I need to. 

The fear and the panic are overwhelming and I'm thrashing around. I can't do anything to stop it. I wish it would stop. The panic is overwhelming. It's consuming. It's eating me alive. It’s too uch. It’s way too much. I need to go and protect. I need to protect.

"Help! Help!"

I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and my hair matted to my forehead. The images of my dead friend are still flashing in my head and as badly as I want to forget, I know I never will. My back and bottom ache from the metal cot I’m on, my limbs stiff in the smaller-than-twin, poor excuse of a mattress.

I twist my body and reach under my pillow, pulling out the journal that my counselor had given me and the pencil, scribbling down my stream of consciousness as quickly as I possibly can. It's barely readable in my chicken scratch writing but who cares enough to read what I have to say anyway? No one. Nobody cares here. Nobody cares about me. I’m nothing.

Getting more and more intense. Got to fall deeper in to beat them. I've lost friends before, but not like this. Not in a box where I have no control. Or do I? Starting to think like them, starting to survive like them. I'm here because I made a choice. What if that means I don't get out alive?

My blood runs cold as I dot the question mark with my trembling hand. I swipe my hand across my dripping forehead and grimace at how wet my hand comes back. I throw my journal onto the floor and lay back down, forcing my eyelids closed.

How could I expect myself to sleep? I'm foolish to think I will. But I keep up the illusion for a while and keep my eyes closed, hoping that sleep will draw me in, but it never does. I just keep replaying the events that plague me every night, and eventually, my eyelids snap open again. The gory images were too much. Then the beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed images became too painful. I scrunch up my eyebrows when I feel a headache forming between them.

My eyes immediately land on the journal, and red hot flames replace my brown orbs. That journal is horrible. It's filled with depressing content and it's falling apart and it's a disgusting brown color. It doesn't have my name in beautiful calligraphy on the front, and perfect drawings of beakers and coffee cups and strawberries and books and records players and decks of cards, and my confessions of love for my girlfriend inside. It doesn't have any of that beauty on the inside. No, this journal contains my deteriorating mind and my disappearing conscience.

Barely having control of my tired muscles, I roll off the bed and land on my hands and knees, holding in my grunts of agony. The cell block is almost silent, aside from the fans blowing around stale, warm air, and I don't intend to piss off anyone by disrupting their sleep. I keep my mouth shut after the initial impact sound. 

I make the bed. I fold the corner of the sheets, so they are absolutely perfect. I fold the blanket and tuck it under the mattress. I smooth my hands over the top of the bed to make it perfect. It has to be perfect. If the bed isn’t perfect, it will get torn apart by the officers. They will rip up my bed and take away my blanket and pillow and humiliate me in front of the whole cell block. I don’t need that to happen again. I experienced that on my first week here and I vowed to never let it happen again. I make the bed and then I make it again, then fix it, then arrange it perfectly one more time. Finally. Perfection. It has to be perfect.

I push my journal against the wall and lay on my back, setting my feet flat against the floor and tucking my hands behind my head. I keep count in my mind as I lift my chin to my knees, ignoring the burn in my abs and the sharp pain in my spine from the concrete I'm rolling my bones against.

Once I've reached my goal number, twenty higher than yesterday’s number, I roll over onto my hands and lift myself up, and start my press ups. I begin a new, higher count in my head as I continuously bring my nose to the concrete, and with each time my biceps flex, the anger flares up. I clench my jaw and my stomach bubbles and my head gets light.

Fuck prison. Fuck it. Fuck the fact that I have to be here. Fuck Frazier and fuck his gang and fuck his shank and fuck the fact that he killed Luis. Fuck this whole situation. This is madness.

I'm becoming them. I am them. I either become them or I die, and I refuse to die in here. I refuse to die without curing Alzheimer's and getting married and having children and spending my life hunting the very people I'm locked in here with. I refuse to die knowing that there's a whole life I could live if I keep fighting. I refuse to break law after law in here like my life doesn't matter in the free world. I refuse to lose the person that I was, even if he's slipping further and further away by the second. Even if every time I try to recall the person I was, the images of my own face get more and more blurry. They’re hard to make out.

And maybe he's already gone and I've already sucked in the traits of the felons around me. Maybe I just refuse to accept who I am now. That's more likely than the lies I feed myself.

I work my muscles until the sun peeks in through the tiny window across from my cell. I'm drenched in sweat, even more than before, and my muscles are aching, but it's easy to forget. And if I can't forget, then it's easy to revel and bask in the intense pain.

The correctional officers bring us to the chow hall and we all collect our disgusting food and eat as quickly as possible. We usually only have three minutes for meals. Three minutes. That's it. It was horrible at first. I had to sit at a table, alone, with my shoulders hunched, shoveling food into my mouth. If you don’t eat at chow, you don’t eat at all. I always used to go back to my cell and curl up in my bed, thinking I was going to throw up. The combination of moldy, rotten food and a three-minute time crunch to eat has horrifying results. But now, three minutes is child's play. Three minutes is eating leisurely. I could eat my entire meal in exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Three minutes, now, is generous.

After breakfast is visitation and, to no one’s surprise, my name is called. I wonder who's on Garcia's list for today. They haven't managed to stick to a set schedule yet, due to cases and traveling, so I have no way of predicting who I'll see. I’m always left to wander into the visitation room and come up with lies on the spot. 

I stick my hands out and allow Wilkins to slap cuffs on me, but I never meet his eyes. I wouldn't dare to. No amount of crunches or push-ups will ever prepare me to take him. I keep my eyes down and, shamefully, let him push me towards the visitation room.

I scan the little tables for a familiar face and smile the tiniest bit when I see Rossi sitting and waiting for me. He hasn't come to visit me yet, and out of the two people I don't want to visit me at all-- my girlfriend and my mom-- I've been waiting to see him. I resist the urge to push the person in front of me to get as much time with Rossi as possible. I wouldn’t dare risk pushing someone. I don't need a fight to send me to solitary confinement. Huh. Actually, solitary confinement doesn't seem too bad right now. I could get away from all these other inmates who want to hurt me. I could relax in solitary.

I sit down and just give Rossi an expecting look, utterly speechless. I've had so many questions to ask him. I've needed so much advice, but now I have nothing to say. My voice is stuck in my throat. His facial hair is longer. The bags under his eyes are a shade darker. Luckily, he speaks first. "You haven't slept." Okay, not what I wanted or needed him to say.

I just shrug nonchalantly. "It's been a while." What else can I say?

Rossi just nods. What else can he do? "I heard about your friend, Delgado. I'm really sorry, Spence," Again, not what I wanted or needed him to say. I don't want to hear or talk about Luis anymore. I'm tired of dwelling on that. I feel guilty enough. I don't need to see his slit throat every time I close my eyes and then open my eyes and talk about him. I don't need that. When I'm unresponsive to this, Rossi continues. "Is there anyone you can talk to?"

I roll my eyes to the back of my head. If my mother were here, she would warn me that if I do that long enough, my eyes would get stuck there. "We have group therapy once a week. The counselor wants me to keep a journal. So I am, but I don't really think it's helping."

Rossi's furrows his eyebrows. "How come?"

A scoff escapes my lips before I can stop it. "Because no one in here is honest. I mean, not a single person can admit that they're terrified," my cuffs rattle as I move my hands as if to hone in what I'm saying. "If we can't agree on that one basic truth, then it doesn't really matter."

"They could just be numb to it all." That's what Rossi offers up. It could help. It would help if I was in the free world.

"Well," my voice softens and even though I know there are gang members around me and people who want to hurt me, I let my guard down, "I'm not. There's," I drop my head the tiniest bit, "there's a helplessness in here that causes people to do things they'd never consider."

Rossi sighs, and this was what I was scared of. I open up and he has nothing to say to me. He has no world-class wisdom to offer. I'm prepared to do what I did to Garcia and practically ignore him for the rest of the visit, but when he reaches into his jacket, my intrigue beats out my disappointment.

I recognize the calligraphy on the front of the envelope as soon as I see it. It's on the front of every single one of my journals that still lay in my desk drawer. It looks as beautiful as ever in black ink, outlined and accented in a yellow pen. There's a lump in my throat that I try to swallow.

"I had to flash my badge just to get it in here so you better read it. I'm not letting you refuse to read this like you refuse to see her," Rossi moves the letter closer to me, directly in my eyesight.

I swallow the thick lump and slowly raise my cuffed hands to grab the envelope. I carefully, without ripping my cursive name, make a slice in the top with my finger and pull out pieces of paper that I recognize to be paper ripped out of Amelia's journal.

"Did you read this?" I ask Rossi as I place the envelope down.

"It was still sealed, wasn't it?"

I nod and stay silent as I drop my head again. I could cry just at the sight of Amelia's handwriting. She touched this paper. This specific piece of paper. This piece of paper was in her hands, in her apartment, and now it’s in my hands. She sat and put pen to paper and wrote this out for me to read. And with one final breath, I finally bring myself to actually start reading it.

To my love dove,

Hi!! How are you? I'm only okay, but there's something I need to tell you can it can't wait any longer.

I started watching this tv show called The Good Doctor a few weeks ago and I've finished the entire series. Honestly, Spencer, it's so amazing. I think you would love it so much.

I know you don't watch that much tv, unless I'm around, so I'll tell you what it's about. The show is about this resident surgeon named Shaun Murphy who is fighting to get a job at a hospital, but the administration of the hospital won't give him a job because he has autism. But then he saves a child's life in an airport or something (I can't remember exactly, it’s been a while) and does a procedure that is really innovative and outside the box and it floors everyone and the hospital hires him.

The show follows him navigating adult life and relationships and his job and him learning how to be less dependent on older people telling him what to do. He gets a girlfriend and loses his virginity and then starts talking about sex at work which is fucking hilarious but also stupidly inappropriate, and he has a friend who's a girl who his girlfriend has a problem with.

And then (I'm sorry, baby, but spoilers are coming!!)  they kill off one of the main characters at the end of the third season! How dumb! Melendez was one of my favorite characters and he was just about to admit to Claire that he's in love with her and then they killed him off for such a stupid reason. The season ends on a cliffhanger! You know how much I hate cliffhangers. And that plot of Claire and Melendez falling in love was teased at for so long and they gave it to us just to take it right away!!!! Cruel!! Do I have grounds to sue for emotional distress? I think there is. I should get on this.

Okay. I've calmed down now.

Fine. You caught me. I haven't. I'll never calm down from my heartbreak over Dr. Melendez. But I can move on for now.

I think you would really like this show and I'd be willing to watch it again with you. I think you'd enjoy it. They talk a lot about medical terms and medical procedures and there’s diagrams and everything. And whether they're accurate and precise or not, I'm sure you'd enjoy picking out mistakes in the procedures or telling me why the procedures are revolutionary. And no matter which option it is, I'm ready to listen and learn.

Before I watched The Good Doctor, I finished watching Lucifer, but I know that you hated that show. But he went back to Hell!!!!!!!!!!! He really did That!!!!! He left Chloe and went to Hell!!!!!! So fucking rude. I screamed out loud when he said he was leaving. Thankfully, there's going to be a season five and maybe I'll make you watch that with me so we can see what happens with Lucifer and Chloe. I debated on watching Star Trek or Doctor Who because you're always talking about how much you love those shows, but I know I won't understand it. I'll need you to explain it to me. I think I'll just wait to watch those with you. Sounds like a good date night to me.

I love you more than words can even express. I miss you more than I will ever be able to say (or in this case, write). I know you're not doing well and I know you don't want to see me but I hope that hearing from me helps you in some way. I don't know how it would but I hope it does.

I love you. I promise, I'll see you so soon.

With all the love in my tiny body,

from your pretty girl,

Amelia <3

ps. idk if you're shaving your face in there but... I'm curious to see what you look like with a mustache and beard... that's a sight I never thought you'd let me see. Hmm. I shouldn't let my mind wander. Sorry. I love you. Kisses.

I read over her letter once, twice, three times. Every time I read it, I notice something new. Every time I read the letter, I notice a teardrop beside a word, of a subtle smudge of a pen, or another hesitation in her pen stroke.

I read it again. And then I read it again. But then I read it one more time. And just when I think I've had enough, I read it another time. I’m on the tenth read before the wheels actually start turning in my head, slower than usual. This letter has distraction written all over it in Amelia’s pretty writing. I don't like medical dramas and I hated Lucifer. She knows that. She acknowledged that in her letter. But this is the kind of thing she would tell me as we're eating dinner when I get home from a case, or as we're laying in bed, or when we're showering, or when we're sitting on the balcony of one of our apartments. This serves that purpose, except this time, it's in letter form. She's distracting me. God, I would give anything to break out of here and drag her to a courthouse and marry her right now.

"Reid?"

My head snaps up when Rossi speaks, and when I force our eyes to meet, he's holding out a pen. I know for a fact that pens aren't allowed. Pens could be considered a weapon in the hands of the wrong inmate. He snuck this in, and I'm not sure how, but I don't want to know how.

I snatch the pen out of his hand and rip the sides of the envelope so there's more room to write, scribbling down my thoughts as fast as possible. I don't want to get caught. If I do, I can't imagine the trouble I'll get in, especially if Wilkins catches me. When I'm pleased with what I've written, I fold up the envelope and hand that and the pen back to Rossi. But I keep the letter, tucking it into the waistband of my pants so it's completely out of sight.

Rossi smiles, putting the envelope back in his jacket pocket and flattening the lapels. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her--" I'm cut off by a sharp alarm going off, a guard screaming about a lockdown, and for all the inmates to return to their cells. I sigh, rising to my feet. "It's all there. Just give that to her."

///

AMELIA

///

"Hi, Jeannie," My voice is only a mumble as I greet the receptionist. She gives me a pitiful smile, another new tradition that has only formed in the last few weeks, handing over a visitor's pass and watching as I clip it to the pocket of my jacket.

I drag myself to the elevator and hit the up button, drag myself inside, and when it opens on the sixth floor, I drag myself to Penelope's office. My mood is lower than it has been lately. I didn’t really think it could get any lower. But here I am with a heart heart, hunched shoulders, and the inability to smile. I'm not sure why I feel like this on this specific day, as opposed to any other shitty day, but maybe it's because I know that Penelope went to visit Spencer today. All I know is that I barely wanted to drag myself off of Jenna's couch this morning and get dressed and show up here. I could barely pay attention to the new episode of The Good Doctor that Jenna coaxed me into watching with her last night. I could barely get myself to come through the front doors of the building, but I show up to the BAU every single morning like I work here.

I plug in the code to Penelope's door and push it open, and I’m welcomed to a sight that I didn't think I'd see for a while. Luke is kneeling in front of Penelope, and at first, I think that he's finally confessing his feelings for her. My first intention is to silently back away and let them have their moment. His hands are on her knees and she isn’t insulting him, so nothing about this interaction could be bad, right? But then I notice that she's crying, and my heart drops. I don’t back away. 

My hand slips off the doorknob and it slams shut, making me flinch on impact. The two stare up at me like deer caught in headlights. I see this expression way too much for my liking nowadays. And judging by the sheer fact that there are still tears dripping down Penelope's cheeks, this isn't good. Nothing is ever good anymore.

"What happened?" I don't step closer, I don't grab Penelope's hand, I don't touch Luke's shoulder. My heart is pounding against my chest and my hands are starting to shake.

Luke glances at Penelope before rising to his feet. "Garcia went to see Reid today."

"I know," I snap faster than I intended to. "What happened to him? Is he okay? What--" my voice betrays me and I can't choke out another question.

Luke sucks in a breath, keeping a stony, emotionless face. "He got beat up."

"Beat up?" I regurgitate the disgusting words that have just been spewed at me, backing myself against the wall. "He got--"

Penelope stands up and moves towards me, lacking her normal finesse. "His face had bruises and he seemed agitated but he seemed fine otherwise--"

"He's not fine if he got beat up," My anger, somehow, quickly dissipates and turns to heartache. My heart pounds against my chest at an alarming rate. My eyes flood with tears and my knees start to give out from under me, and I go sliding to the ground, curling into myself. "He's trapped inside with the people who beat him up and there's nothing he can do."

"Listen," Luke kneels in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder, but I can't bring myself to shake it off or even look up at him, "I'm gonna get an extra set of eyes on Reid. He's mentioned something about another inmate that sounds like an ex-FBI agent, and I think I know how I can get him to protect Reid. Amelia, he's gonna be okay. I'm gonna go to the prison right now and figure this all out. You call me if you need anything at all."

Luke stands again and smiles at Penelope, quickly leaving the room. And once he's gone, Penelope takes his place on the floor beside me, sitting with her legs straight out. She's silent, but I'm not sure why. Is she giving me space? Is she waiting for me to speak? Is she figuring out what to say? Is she too scared to say anything? I wouldn't blame her if she was. I'm not the person I was anymore.

I reach into my pocket and pull out Spencer's medallion, passing it between my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whisper, keeping my gaze on the metal circle. "I haven't exactly been a best friend lately, or a friend at all. I've just been a bitch."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Penelope insists, scooting closer to me. "This is a really hard time for you. It's understandable. I don't expect you to want to be listening to my guy problems or wanting to drink wine. I mean, I don't even want to be doing either of those things. It seems too...cheerful for right now."

My lips quiver and I try to hold back my tears, but no matter how hard I squeeze the medallion, my tears won’t retreat and my pain doesn’t disappear. "I just really miss him, and I'm really worried about him."

"We all are," Penelope sighs, patting my leg. "But we're working as hard as we can to get him out."

"I know you are," I flip the medallion over and stare down at the compass. "I just hope he comes home soon because I don't know how much longer I'll last without him."

///

The snapping of my pencil against paper shakes me back to reality, and my head pops up. I find that I've been jamming my pencil into my sketchbook, creating a hole in the paper that has effectively ruined my drawing and maybe even ruined my entire sketchbook.

A groan leaves my lips and I drop my sketchbook to the floor, my pencil following. I shouldn't be upset. Whatever it was I was drawing was horrible anyway. I haven't drawn anything good since Spencer got arrested. My art revolves around joy and happiness and the good things in my life and if I don't have any of that, how am I expected to make art?

"Hey," Jenna comes and sits beside me, placing a cup of tea on the coffee table. I don't touch it. She never makes it as good as Spencer. She picks up the sketchbook and lets out a sigh. "It's a shame there's a hole in it now. I liked what you were drawing."

"It was bad," I respond, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. "Nothing in there was any good."

"I disagree," Jenna drops the book and slings her arm around my shoulder, drawing me into her embrace. She’s not nearly as warm as Spencer. "Sometimes, our best work comes from dark places. You know, like comedians. A lot of comedians have depression and--"

"Jen, I appreciate it but I'm not in the mood for this," I murmur, eyelids feeling heavy. I rest my head on her lap and stare up at her, resisting the urge to purr as she starts to brush her fingers through my hair, but it's nothing like the way Spencer does it. Spencer, somehow, doesn't let his fingers get caught in my curls and he doesn't tug on knots. His hands are big and veiny and strong and not dainty and tiny like Jenna's.

"I'm sorry," Jenna apologizes with a heavy sigh.

"No, I'm sorry," I catch her hand in mine and intertwine our fingers, squeezing tightly. "I've been horrible lately. I've just-- what I'm going through with Spencer is no reason to be acting like a bad friend to you. You've been so generous and so helpful and so--"

"Hey, listen," Jenna cuts me off with her sweet smile, "when everything with Spencer is resolved and he's settled at home with his mom and with you, then you can take me out and throw me a Jenna appreciation party. But for right now, don't worry about me. Just worry about you and staying healthy and trying to stay happy, and focus your energy on your happy memories with Spencer."

"You're the best, have I ever told you that?"

"Hey!" Jenna exclaims. "Save it for the appreciation party."

I smile back up at my best friend, nodding slowly. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. Once I get my shit together, I'll throw you an amazing party."

"And I look forward to it," Jenna quips, and then looks at the time. "Okay, I've gotta get to a meeting but you're welcome to stay here if you want. My apartment is all yours."

"No, I think I'm gonna go home for a bit. Probably shower and then get to the BAU with fresh clothes. I feel all," I sit up, brushing my fingers over my cheeks and grimacing, "greasy and oily."

Jenna returns my ruined sketchbook and ushers me out the door, watching me get into my car to make sure I get there safely. I wave goodbye to her before driving off, not even bothering to turn on the radio. I never do anymore.

Trudging up to my door, I unlock it and toss my keys aside, throwing my bag down on the floor and kneeling down to take off my shoes. I pull out my hair tie and drop it to the floor, then leave a trail of clothes to the kitchen. First my denim jacket, then my socks, then my crop top. I'm left in my bra and sweatpants in the middle of the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for something to eat. It’s nearly empty. Of course it is. I haven’t had the energy to go shopping lately. 

I reach my hand out but I pause and scrunch up my nose at a strong scent. Why does it smell like bubblegum in here? Again. I don’t even like the scent or taste of bubblegum, and I obviously didn’t buy any gum recently. I roll my eyes, wandering over to the window to open it further and let out the smell. I breathe in a bit of the fresh air and sigh, stepping away and going back to my original plan of getting something to eat. Maybe the older woman next door has a bubblegum candle that she likes to light whenever I’m home. 

But the smell is persistent and it's filling my lungs and my brain and my tongue. I start to walk towards the window again but my feet don't let me. It's like there's someone telling me not to go and breath in the fresh air outside, and so, I don't. I stand in the middle of my kitchen like a floundering fish, gripping the island with white knuckles. My head feels fuzzy. My eyes feel like they should be rolling into my skull. It’s that familiar feeling of not having control over myself. That sickly familiar feeling of someone standing right behind me, whispering in my ear and telling me what to do. 

But then I feel the urge to shut the window completely, so I do. I rush over and slam it closed with so much force that I think I might break the glass. But I'm confused. I'm so confused. The bubblegum smell is nauseating so why am I closing the window? What is telling me to close the window? Who is telling me to close the window?

I feel my feet walking over to the couch and I lay down. My eyelids feel heavy and I don't stop myself when I feel an intense need to lay down and close my eyes, to rest. I curl up and drift off comfortably, into the best sleep I've gotten since I had the privilege of sleeping in a bed with Spencer.

When I finally wake again, my head is pounding. I whine out loud, curling my knees into my chest and tossing my arm over my eyes, trying to block out the lights above me. But nothing works so I roll off the couch, falling onto my knees in a pathetic heap. I lift my head, finding an empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I didn’t drink wine today. The bottle is empty but I didn’t drink. I mean, I feel hungover but I know I didn’t drink. The smell of bubblegum is gone. 

I reach around for my phone, but after groping the couch and the coffee table, I come up empty. I conclude that I've left it in my backpack which I dropped beside the door. I grind my teeth as my muscles pop when I stand and walk over to the foyer, rubbing my eyes and letting out a dramatically loud yawn. When I get to the foyer, I find that my backpack is nowhere in sight. That's odd. I could have sworn that I left it here when I got home from Jenna's apartment, but I guess in my blackout, I moved it.

I turn on my heel to head back to the kitchen, and the first thing I notice is that it's not morning anymore. It's dark out. My head whips towards the clock and I find that it's almost midnight. I must have gotten drunk. I must have finished that whole bottle myself and the alcohol made me forget. I drank the entire day away, somehow. That's not like me. That's never happened before. I drink wine all the time, I know I can hold my wine. How did one single bottle of wine do this to me?

Shaking my head at myself and pushing away my pathetic tears, I move on to my kitchen. Surely enough, the contents of my backpack are strewn across the island and my phone is right there. What I need it for? I'm not sure. But despite the fact that I've just woken up, I'm exhausted. So with my phone in my hand, half dressed, belly button ring falling out, hair tangled, head pounding, and my brain swirling, I drag myself up the stairs and collapse into bed.

The sheets smell like him. They always do. They always will. The pillow he claimed as his own will always be stained with the scent of his cologne, and no matter the amount of times I wash it, it was always smell like him. I roll over and hug his pillow to my chest, and this time, I don't stop the dam from breaking. I let the tears flow down my cheeks relentlessly and I let the sobs rack my body and I let myself succumb to the depression I've barely been fighting off.

But I don't let my mind succumb too much, not to the bad thoughts that are hounding me. I stumble off the bed and into my bedside table, pulling out my journal and holding it in my lap. My pen moves faster than my mind does and before I know it, I'm signing my name at the end. I don't even proofread it. I don't check for spelling or grammar errors or try to dry the tear stains or fix any pen smudges. I just rip out the pages, fold them up, put on some clothes, and jump in my car. 

The doors the the sixth floor open as I fiddle with my visitors pass on my hip. I see Stephen first and he smiles at me, stepping out of the way and gesturing me for me to go past. I thank him softly and go tiptoeing by, pulling open the bullpen door and stepping in. JJ and Tara are talking with Anderson and Kevin by the coffee machine and I send them a wave, but I don't go over to talk. I haven't been in the mood for small talk lately. And besides, it’s midnight. Everyone is here incredibly late to work and small talk would distract them from their obvious mountain of work. They don’t need the extra worry of me showing up hungover and confused. I keep my head down to avoid everyone. 

I pass Emily and get to Dave's door, knocking much softer than I have in the past. He calls for me to enter, and when I do, I give him one of the fake smiles I've become so accustomed to lately. "Hi," I state gently.

"Hi," he gestures for me to sit, and when I do, he closes to door. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I nod quickly, probably way too quickly, and bring my backpack into my lap, digging through the contents. "I saw that--"

"Are you drunk?" He interrupts me, narrowing his eyes at me as he takes a seat again.

I fiend surprise, shaking my head. "No! Of course not! Why would you--"

"Your eyes are bloodshot and you're not speaking properly, you're slurring your words," Dave points out bluntly.

I don't move my gaze from his as my hands finally land on what I was searching for, and I pull it out, holding it to him. "I saw on Garcia's board that you're the next to visit Spencer. Could you bring that to him? It's just a letter."

Dave takes the envelope from my hand and admires the calligraphy on the front, the same I always use to label Spencer's sketchbooks. He nods and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "I'll bring it. The prison checks everything and--"

"If they confiscate it, I don't wanna know," I tell him, standing and putting my backpack on again, heading towards his office door. "Just-- everything I have to say is in that letter. I've gotten it out and even if he doesn't get to read it," I shrug my shoulders up to my ears and laugh pitifully, "whatever. I just hope he's safe now."

I go home. I leave with my head down and tears in my eyes. Dave is going to think I’m a crazy drunk who can’t control herself. The reality is, I don’t even know what happened today. I’m just confused and sad. I’m missing Spencer, I hate the smell of bubblegum, and I can’t do my job anymore. Everything is fucking horrible. Everything has gone to shit.

Like clockwork, I bring myself to the BAU the next morning. Freshly showered and in presentable clothes, looking better than I have in months. An obvious overcompensation for what Dave said to me yesterday. I need to show him somehow that I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay but I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I should have practiced my fake smile in the elevator.

"Hey, you," Penelope smiles softly as I walk into her lair, dropping my backpack on the empty desk. "Feeling okay?"

"Meh," I shrug, sitting down in a free chair and drawing my knees to my chest. "I'm trying to keep my spirits up. It's hard, you know? It keeps getting longer and longer since I've seen him and the longer it gets, the harder it gets. I’m trying to keep it together. It’s hard, P."

"I think I may be able to help with that," Dave's voice at the door makes the both of us jump. Neither of us had even realized he had come in right behind me. But I jump to my feet and smooth down my skirt, adjusting my nose ring so it’s perfect and brushing my straightened hair behind my ears.

"Help with that?" Penelope repeats, glancing between us. "Help with that how?"

Dave reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the envelope for the letter I'd written for Spencer, and my heart drops to my feet. Why was I thinking? What made me think he would be able to bring my letter in? He's in a maximum-security prison. Spencer can barely take a shower without prison guard eyes on him. He's not going to be able to get a letter from a visitor without it being checked and rejected first.

"I told you I didn't wanna know if he could see it," I whisper, looking down at my lap and hating the way my eyes instantly burn with tears. I’ve cried too much lately. "You should've just thrown it out. I don't want it back, just--"

He drops the envelope onto my lap to shut me up, but now, it's unfolded and there's writing on the inside. My body jerks ungracefully when I recognize Spencer's handwriting and I snatch it up to read what he's written for me.

To my pretty girl,

The Good Doctor sounds like a great show, and even though you've basically spoiled the whole show for me, I'd love to rewatch it with you. Medical dramas tend to be incorrect with their facts so I'd like to see how much of the show is accurate. And no, I will not watch Lucifer with you. But I will absolutely watch Star Trek and Doctor Who with you. It would be my pleasure to explain them to you.

I think of you every single day. You are the reason I'm pushing through and you are the reason I'm still alive. You are the reason I get out of bed and you are the reason I'm sane at all. You're still my north. Don't forget that. I’m going to come home to you.

Like you said, words cannot describe how intensely and how badly I miss you. Things are hard right now but I promise that I'll see you soon and I promise that everything will be okay.

Listen to some Brahms or Mozart for me. I love you so much.

With all the love I have left to give,

Your Dove

ps. There are no razors here and I haven't shaved in months. Enjoy.

pps. Thank you for distracting me. It worked wonders. You're truly amazing.

I read his letter over and over and over. I examine every single word on the page and I barely even notice when my tears start to fall on the paper. His writing is messy, it always has been, but it's so beautiful. Maybe I think it's so extraordinarily beautiful because I know he touched this piece of paper and now I'm touching it. It's from his heart. It's from him. It's from my Spencer.

"Penny," I whimper out, and she is at my side in a second, placing her hand on my shoulder. "He—” I sniffle and hiccup, “he promised."

"He promised?" She echoes, her voice sounding hopeful but like she's talking to a child. "What did he promise?"

"He promised that everything is gonna be okay," I clutch the paper in my hand, admiring its beauty and counting the strokes that Spencer made with the pen. "And he told me again that I'm his north and-- that's good, right? He's still there, you know, mentally."

Penelope nods at me, reaching down to wipe my tears. "Yeah, Amelia, that's really good that he said those things."

I drop the letter to the floor and throw my arms around Dave, crying into his shoulder. "Thank you so much. Thank you for doing this for me."

He hugs me back tightly. "Anything to see you and the kid happy. Anything for you two."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrrywildflower @penemily @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere​ @shrimpyblog​ @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter​ @whxt-to-write​ @inkandexchange​ @just-call-me-non​

[aknosde]

Okay, you know earlier this week when I dropped a paragraph of a fic? I actually finished it, and the end isn’t the best so I’m posting it here and not on AO3.

Loneliness - (featuring my HoH Percy and Clarisse head cannons)

TW for attempted self harm and a generally bad mental space

Percy’s never really had a mentor. When he was young he was put in a few organizations as a mentee. The type of organizations that are supposed to make things easier on kids like him, brown and black kids with “authority problems”. They never really clicked though, sometimes it was him, a lot of the time it was the supposed mentor. He had never cared much, it’s not like they could help him in a way that mattered.

Then there was Luke. Luke who was tall and strong and quick and really, really, really good with a sword. Maybe some of it was a crush, but he had never met someone who he was so encapsulated by. Luke was cool, intelligent, and good looking. He was everything Percy ever wanted and ever wanted to be.

Luke left a bitter taste in Percy’s mouth and a scar on his hand and a distaste for soda. Luke left Percy with an even quicker brain and a knot in his stomach that turned into a murder plot for his stepfather. He drew Percy in time and time again with a hatred that was laced with unrequited love and left Annabeth with blood stains on her dagger and both of them with salt stains on their cheeks and the taste of ash on their tongues.

After Luke was Beckendorf. Granted Percy had had a bit of a crush on him too. Beckendorf was pure, not in the way some white campers might call Hazel innocent. He was just kind, and genuine, and warm. Percy looked up at Beckendorf, big, strong, brave, caring, and he thought this, this is something I could do. I might not be able to be a big hero, but I can do this. I want this.

Beckendorf left Percy with no body for the shroud to cover. He left Percy with inside jokes that would never again be completed and a desire in his brain to constantly be in the forges and to keep as far away from them as possible. Beckendorf left a hole in Percy’s heart that was filled by blood and guilt. Percy looks at the acid scars on his foot with a longing for the time when Beckendorf was taken by giant ants.

And after Beckendorf there was no one. Suddenly Percy was one of the oldest campers. A war veteran. Supposedly the strongest demigod alive. He wasn’t just a counselor now, of his cabin that was solely him, he was a senior counselor. Jake Mason sat in Beck’s seat and Percy cried because suddenly he was alone.

He shouldn’t feel alone. When Annabeth holds his hand while they wait for breakfast he shouldn’t feel alone. When Grover makes enchiladas in the kitchen of the Big House and they eat them together in a field Percy shouldn’t feel alone. When Nico comes running into Percy’s cabin telling Percy that Mythomagic is apparently run by demigods and that they made a card of Nico he shouldn’t feel alone.

It only gets worse when he’s back at home. His mom goes through their normal post-quest routine. She gives him time and space and love. She takes him to the doctor’s. His old prescriptions get refilled, adderall, meperidine. Sally tries again to find a demigod therapist, to no avail. They don’t celebrate his birthday this year.

He’s at Goode without Rachel and he has no other friends. He’s never really been good at that, the whole friend thing, and now it’s practically impossible finding someone who isn’t uneasy around him. He sits in the back of his physics class and eats alone at lunch and sleeps in Paul’s office during breaks.

A teacher hands him back an essay and there��s a paperclip in the corner keeping all the pages together. There is a B+ on it with a smiley face, and Percy takes the paper clip and sharpens it and tries to scratch his skin. It doesn’t do anything. His skin still won’t break, there is just a faint redness. Only after scratching away mindlessly for weeks does he realize that he’s writing words. Last words. “Go!” “Don’t let it happen again.” “Tell him I’m sorry.”

He can fill up his schedule with school and homework and swim and skating and basketball. He can wake up in the morning and eat breakfast and take adderall and carry around the other small orange bottle waiting for his skin to revolt against him. He feels disgusting and empty. Like a demon in a suit of skin that used to be Percy. He misses two years ago when the war wasn’t looming over head, when he and Annabeth and Silena and Beck would all hang out, when he and Clarisse had weekly midnight basketball games.

Grover knows. Grover’s gotta know. For one thing, there’s the empathy link. And Grover is calling multiple times a week, and he always asks how Percy is, if he’s alright. Percy lies “I’m all good man, don’t worry. How’s work?” Then Grover goes off on a tangent about pollution or some shit he saw a human do and the way he purses his lips when he’s worried doesn’t come back until they’re hanging up.

He hates it, the lying. He’s only told lies to protect others, when he doesn’t have enough information yet, when he needs to save them. Now he is lying for himself. How fucking selfish does he have to be? But he’s so lonely, and he can’t bare to lose anyone else. It feels like the smallest step out of line will make his world crumble.

So he lies. He lies his ass off, and he doesn’t know if he’s good at it, but he could be. When Annabeth comes over one weekend, all the way from California, and she asks about the pill bottle rattling in his pocket he says that it’s adderall and she turns back to the tv. When his mom asks if he’s made new friends he says yes, and proceeds to tell a mortal version of something that he and Beck did last year.

One day Rachel comes into the city to visit her parents. They’re sitting on a bench in Central Park and he takes the paperclip out of his coat pocket and goes to work on his wrist while they talk. It’s habit by now. Rachel stops in the middle of her sentence and gently pries the paperclip from his hands and in its place she leaves a blue eyeliner pencil.

Soon his arms are covered in names and words and horrifically beautiful drawings. Blue pigment against brown skin and pink scars, all swirling together. The pencil runs out quickly, but a week later, just as he’s about to take the paperclip back out, an envelope arrives. Sitting in the bottom is a new pencil of blue eyeliner. Percy throws the paperclip in the trash.

By Thanksgiving break Percy isn’t feeling good exactly, he’s feeling mildly better. Loneliness still hits him, in pangs. He’ll be walking to lunch and he’ll have to jump in the canoe lake because he can’t handle it, and swimming is a good excuse for missing a meal.

He wakes up early in the morning and sits in Rachel’s cave waiting for her to wake up. She makes hot chocolate and points out drawings she particularly likes, and then he’ll wash his arms off ready to begin again.

Days are filled with meetings. Meetings with Chiron and meetings with other counselors, trying to make up for being away at school. When he’s not in meetings he trains. Sometimes himself, but a lot of newer or younger campers. The disarming technique he teaches throws him back to Luke and he gives the campers a five minute break hoping the feeling leaves.  

Evenings are being tossed between one person and another. Racing up the climbing wall with Annabeth and laughing at the top and sitting there for way too long. Stopping by the Aphrodite cabin where Drew will catch him up on everything he’s missed being away or being busy. He sits on the floor of the Hades cabin trying for the fifth time to understand Mythomagic.

Every night since he’s gotten back Clarisse raps on his door at two in the morning and they play one v. one on the basketball court until they end up on their backs under the stars. There’s rarely any talking. It’s dark outside and Clarisse has left her hearing aids in her cabin and he’s left his back in Manhattan. Not like he ever uses them in public.

He’s still lonely. 

Maybe Clarisse can read his mind because she taps his leg and they sit up facing each other. He can just barely see her fingers in the moonlight.

“Sometimes people can be lonely not because they are alone but because they miss someone. You have a lot of people to miss.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” He signs back.

“Oh be quiet punk.”

They both break into laughter then, before she continues.

“Miss them. As much as you fucking want. I was in love with Silena, and she died, and Drew is a bitch about it, but she has a right to be.”

Percy is struck again by how similar he and Clarisse are, their lives and their feelings and their actions. The only difference is that Clarisse grants herself the freedom to do what she wants, and he’s scared to death of doing that himself.

“But, and do not ever tell anybody I told you this, a lot of people would miss you. You can pull away and feel lonely but you can’t disappear. Annabeth needs you, Rachel needs you, Nico and Will and Drew need you. And gods fucking dammit, I need you.”

Clarisse stands and pulls him up behind her. They part ways, heading back to their cabins. Percy mulls her words over in his head as he finally drifts into sleep, his body completely and utterly exhausted. Suddenly there is a blue-gold light, and he remembers Annabeth, and then everything is dark and there’s the smell of pine.

[missinghan]

time lapse ⤖ seo changbin

❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst

❖ word count : 14,9k.

❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to. 

one.

Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you. 

Oh, boy were you wrong.

But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?

Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible. 

He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief. 

“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”

You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.” 

“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom. 

You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives. 

“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”

You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.” 

He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?” 

His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend. 

“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic. 

He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?” 

“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?” 

“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“

“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”

“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“

You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”

“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”

“But, but—“

You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.” 

“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?” 

You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks. 

“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.” 

“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.” 

Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“Because you’re hot as shit!”

He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.” 

You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”

two.

As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match. 

The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously. 

“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off. 

You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’. 

Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love. 

As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met. 

“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.” 

You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?” 

You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass. 

“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.” 

You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”

“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”

You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint. 

Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?” 

It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight. 

But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.” 

“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”

Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant. 

The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”

“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so. 

three.

Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place. 

The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece. 

Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you. 

Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive. 

In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you. 

Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here. 

Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you�� problem. 

And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin. 

Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?

“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night. 

You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?” 

Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips. 

For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?

“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.

He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet. 

“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.” 

He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group. 

“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”

“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear. 

You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”

Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”

“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses. 

Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend. 

That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder. 

“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can. 

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”

You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse. 

“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”

[9:35 p.m.]

y/n | hey, pick me up already. 

meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here. 

meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.

[9:36 p.m.]

y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?

meanhoe | paranoid.

[9:37 p.m.]

meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.

meanhoe | in graphic details.

[9:38 p.m.]

y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead? 

y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.

[9:39 p.m.]

meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?

y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.

y/n | goodnight.

[ 9:40p.m. ]

meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!

y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.

You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”

He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”

four.

“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.” 

“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?” 

He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?

“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.” 

Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.” 

Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?” 

“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts. 

Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”

“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.” 

“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?” 

Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”

“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.” 

A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”

“Looks good in black?”

Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom. 

A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”

Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face. 

“What are you? Four?”

Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

He protests triumphantly. “See?”

“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“

Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”

Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.” 

Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”

“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?” 

Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits. 

Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”

Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet. 

“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you. 

[8:23 a.m.]

y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.

y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?

meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.

meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.

five.

You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge. 

Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges. 

“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice. 

Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously. 

You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time. 

“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?” 

You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.” 

Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”

“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.” 

“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you. 

You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”

“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits. 

Now, where is that guy Jackson?

As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“

“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?

You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being. 

And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately. 

When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak. 

“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.” 

Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.”  And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way. 

“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.” 

You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.” 

“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack. 

You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?” 

“Your brother, obviously.” 

You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.” 

six.

Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging. 

Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted. 

Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege. 

The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more. 

And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep. 

“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle. 

You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.” 

Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.

“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused. 

You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.” 

Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made. 

“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid. 

Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.” 

You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”

He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.” 

You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes. 

“What internship?” You ask. 

seven.

Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope. 

He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day. 

And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.

Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have. 

He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place. 

It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think. 

You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!” 

He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”

“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”

Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”

You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”

“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!” 

You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”

He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!” 

“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.” 

“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. 

Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless. 

So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway. 

“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.” 

Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it. 

Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.” 

Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“ 

You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”

“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.

He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”

eight.

It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak. 

Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation. 

It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin. 

And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful. 

“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach. 

You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily. 

Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?” 

“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”

You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.” 

Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”

[ 9:23p.m. ]

meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!

meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!

meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.

meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!

meanhoe | COME HOME!!

Oh. My. God. 

nine.

“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones. 

You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life. 

Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you. 

Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..

The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward. 

Great, now what?

Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?” 

Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?” 

“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played? 

He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense. 

You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you? 

“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact. 

Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.

Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time. 

He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.” 

“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora. 

That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks. 

You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!” 

In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place. 

“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.” 

ten.

One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up. 

Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode. 

But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope. 

“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.” 

You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight. 

Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours. 

As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating. 

“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?” 

“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.” 

Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?” 

The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his. 

“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.” 

You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds. 

“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs. 

“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.” 

“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?” 

You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.” 

“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?

Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”

You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.” 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

eleven.

That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed. 

When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone. 

It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’. 

Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened. 

Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too. 

So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence. 

The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him. 

Just because he’s Seo Changbin. 

You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most. 

“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares. 

The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”

“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”

She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now. 

You look down. “About what?”

“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”

You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”

“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?” 

Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms. 

Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”

“And why should I believe you?” 

Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.” 

You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?” 

Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”

Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.” 

“So..?” 

“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”

You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right. 

twelve.

From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore. 

But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did. 

You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again. 

It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up. 

“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable. 

You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”

“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans. 

“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine. 

He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck. 

You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood. 

When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work. 

Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere. 

The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing. 

“for_you.mp4”

It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file. 

“Is this thing on?” 

You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally. 

“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.” 

You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.” 

When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”

What notification?

Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”

“Neverending Story ( Demo ).” 

Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind. 

“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle

I'll always protect you

For you,

I can even go against time

Just to appear in front of you

I believe, I believe

Even if the world changes

Can you promise that we won't?”

The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for? 

As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door. 

Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?” 

Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”

“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life. 

He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose. 

Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to. 

Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.

[beatles-slash-fiction]

OT5 Part 5...

*****

The next day the boys have the day off.

Brian still has insurance woes to deal with as well as a mountain of paperwork. He’s got schedules and press conferences to finalise, as well as contracts to re-read which contain so much legal jargon they make his head hurt.

So Brian stays at the hotel while the boys go out to explore the city, slowly working his way through his tasks for the day.

It’s mind-numbingly boring, and Brian’s thoughts keep drifting to his boys.

His beautiful boys, who will have to drag themselves to his room once again tonight for another attempt at the task he’s set them.

He wonders if he’s being too harsh. Simultaneous orgasms are hard enough to achieve for two people, let alone four. And the boys are really trying.

But there are lessons for them to learn, and they’re so close now. Brian knows they can do this. And he knows it will bring them closer together.

A day spent locked up in a hotel room alone means that Brian is very much looking forward to dinner with the boys, and by the time he’s packing away his papers he feels as though he could skip down to the hotel restaurant downstairs.

The boys are already waiting for him at the table when he arrives, and Brian can already feel the stress of the day melting away as he takes a seat.

“How was your day?” Paul asks with a smile.

“Dull,” Brian chuckles, immediately lighting a cigarette. “But it’s got a little better now that I can see your lovely faces. Tell me about your day.”

Ringo excitedly recounts the sights the four of them visited today, as well as a story about John stepping in an ankle-deep puddle outside the train station.

Brian is content to just listen to them tell him about their adventures of the day while they eat, but he can’t help but notice that George is being rather quiet. The youngest lad is always quieter than the others, but he seems a bit...off tonight.

He doesn’t even finish his dinner, which is very unlike George.

“He was sick this morning,” John says to Brian quietly when they’re strolling back up to their rooms.

Brian feels his stomach drop, and the panic must show on his face because John chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Eppy. That’s what I thought at first too. But we’re all careful and we got a test for him to take earlier. It’s not that.”

Brian lets out a sigh of relief. That’s one scenario he can’t deal with right now.

“I think he’s nervous,” John says with a shrug. “About tonight.”

Brian can’t help but worry now. He’s seen how much George has struggled with this task over the last few nights, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed the boy to breaking point. Destroyed his confidence and self-esteem.

Brian would never forgive himself.

“I’ve been thinking, lads,” Brian says as they pause outside the door to his room. “Why don’t we have a night off from the punishment tonight? Three nights in a row is quite tiring.”

The boys look a little surprised, but all happily agree to a night off.

“You’ll be back here tomorrow though,” Brian says firmly. “I meant it when I said you’ll do this until you get it right. And I want you all to go straight to bed now. To sleep. No messing around.”

“Yes, Eppy,” the boys chorus before heading towards their rooms in a fit of giggles.

Brian gently grabs George by his wrist before he can disappear. “It’s our night together tonight. Did you still want to sleep with me? John says you’ve been a bit poorly, so it’s not a problem if you’d rather just go back to your room and have a cuddle with one of the other lads.”

George gives a tired smile. “No, I’ll sleep with you. I’d like to. Let me grab my stuff.”

Brian watches the younger man disappear, loosening his tie and wondering if he’s fucked things up permanently.

*****

George turns up already dressed in his pyjamas, and toes off the fluffy hotel slippers before heading straight for the bed.

“Teeth?” Brian asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Already brushed,” George yawns, settling under the covers.

Brian settles down next to him, trying not to think about how young George looks right now. Sometimes Brian forgets that George is only twenty-two.

“Did you have a nice day today?” Brian asks, stroking George’s hair.

“Mm. It was funny listening to John complain about having wet shoes all day.”

They both share a quiet chuckle. George nudges their feet together beneath the covers.

“How are you feeling?” Brian slips his fingers beneath George’s top to stroke his stomach. “Do you still have trouble with your tummy?”

“Nah, I’m feeling a lot better now. Thanks.” George meets Brian’s eyes. “The lads thought I might be-“

“Yes.” Brian laughs nervously. “So did I. But John told me you confirmed otherwise.” His voice turns more serious. “You know I’d take care of you though, if you were? I’d take care of everything.”

George smiles at him shyly, leaning forward for a kiss.

Brian can’t let himself get carried away. This is a job. That’s all. One day his boys won’t need him anymore. He can’t fool himself into thinking this could ever be anything more. He can’t let himself think about that.

George swallows, shifting closer to Brian to rest his head on the older man’s chest. “I don’t think we should do the task anymore. It’s not fair on the others.”

Brian doesn’t say anything. He can feel George’s heart pounding, and he knows how nervous the younger man must be to bring this up.

“I’m not trying to get out of my punishment,” George adds quickly. “I promise, Brian. I’m really not. I know we misbehaved the other day and we let you down. But I can’t do this task. The others have all done really well, and I’m dragging them down. So maybe you could just punish me separately on my own. Let the others off. They’ve basically done what you expect of them so they shouldn’t have to keep at it.”

Brian chuckles, stroking George’s cheek. “Actually, they haven’t done what I expect of them. Why on earth do you think you’re the one dragging the group down?”

George blinks, confused. “Because I can’t come when I’m supposed to.”

“And that’s your fault, is it?”

George still looks utterly confused.

“This is a group task, George. The others should be helping you to achieve orgasm when you need to. They should be paying attention to your needs.”

George bites his lip, as if he’s never considered this.

Brian has seen it hundreds of times in the studio and on stage. The boys still seem to see George as the baby of the group, the junior. Someone to be directed rather than listened to. It doesn’t exactly surprise him that that’s translated into this task.

“You’ll have to tell them what your needs are though,” Brian adds. “They’re not mind-readers. So tell me. What do you need from them to help you all achieve this task?”

And because Brian is in a particularly sentimental mood, he presses a kiss to George’s bare throat.

“I need them to stop bossing me around,” George sighs. “It doesn’t help when they’re putting pressure on me.”

“Good,” Brian encourages. “And is there anything they could do to help you?”

George immediately turns red. “Well...um. I always like it when they say nice stuff to me, y’know? Like when they give me compliments. And call me nice names.”

“Ah,” Brian says knowingly. “Lovely. Well why don’t you tell them that? And maybe your next attempt at this task won’t feel like a punishment.”

That shy smile returns, showing off George’s little vampire teeth.

“Get some rest, lovely lad.” Brian kisses George gently. “You’re gonna be my very good boy tomorrow night and give this another go, aren’t you?”

George nods, eyes shining. “Yes. I’m gonna try. Love you, Brian.”

Brian closes his eyes, his heart bubbling. He can’t let his feelings get in the way of his job. He can’t allow that to happen.

“I love you too, my darling.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[noncommited-writer]

i know

Starker — Another prompt I chose for myself.

Prompt: Grumpy Morning Heads

A/N: I had fun with this even though it is quite short. I wanted to explore a little more of the ‘established relationship’ part of Starker and how older Peter ties into it, especially because he isn’t as naive or young.

Tags: Fluff, established relationship, slight Steve Rogers bashing, protective Peter, mention of sex.

Peter puts his hands over his eyes, cursing Friday under his breath for allowing such an abrupt wake-up call—at least compared to yesterday morning when she chimed in with a soft ‘It’s morning, Boss, past your usual circadian rhythm.’

What’s the point of it being their vacation if they can’t sleep in, wake anytime they want. That’s the whole point of taking a break—allowing a pause in the throes of superhero life, especially when their sleep schedules are unbelievably messed up almost daily.

Sunbeams hit his bare skin, warmth crawling across his body in contrast to the white cool sheets under his hands. The drowsiness under his eyelids wisp away the longer he sees the light shine through the big windows. For once, he wishes Tony didn’t have an obsession with walls made of glass.

“Tony,” he whispers. The man next to him in the bed, still tangled in the weighted blanket, grumbles.

“Tell Friday to—” a yawn is ripped out of Peter’s mouth, “—close the windows.”

“Do you mean the curtains, Mr. Parker?” Friday’s wry tone fills the room. Smart-ass A.I. She really is one of Tony’s creations. Peter can only imagine how insufferable Ultron must have been.

He snorts and waves a hand lazily. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. It’s too early to be this bright.”

“It’s eleven thirty-two, Mr. Parker.”

Peter groans, and slaps a hand over his face. If it must be, he supposes.

He turns over to Tony first, placing a soft kiss on his forehead which illicit a smile from the older man. Peter then rolls to his side, sitting up at the edge of the bed. He stretches, satisfied when he’s heard at least four joints pop, then gets to his feet. He’s glad they shared a shower before getting back into bed because of there’s one thing he hates, it’s waking up covered in dried fluids, smelling of sex.

He shuffles to the kitchen, still yawning and shaking off the last of fatigue in his muscles. He’s lucky he has enhanced healing otherwise he’d be so sore that he wouldn’t even be able to make it to the kitchen.

His hand idly grabs for a mug, and he huffs a soft laugh when he sees which one it is. A kitten wearing Iron Man booties printed over the front of the cup, peering at the camera with big blue eyes. He saw it when he walked past a gift shop. There was a rack full of superhero themed items. Peter couldn’t help melting and laughing at the same time when he saw the mug.

“Coffee is ready,” Friday says, a much softer lilt to her voice compared to her voice in the bedroom a moment ago. Peter supposes it was meant more to irritate Tony than him.

“Thanks, Fri. You’re a peach.” Peter beams at the camera in the corner, and he swears he can hear the lights in the room hum louder—as if the building were purring in satisfaction.

He adds in the usual—two teaspoons of sugar and milk (Tony is always appalled when he sees Peter making his coffee)—and he crosses the kitchen to reach yet another glass wall.

It’s a little ironic. Glass walls for one of the most closed off people. Peter huffs a small chuckle into his coffee. But maybe that isn’t it. Because Tony is one of those people who never stops wearing his heart on his sleeve. It’s always clear to Peter when Tony is struggling or hurt. Tony makes sure to let his troubles be known, even if it hurts to be vulnerable, cracked open. It’s what makes Tony heroic. He’s always laying his life—and his heart—on the line, even if other people don’t see it.

Peter’s fingers tighten around his mug.

People like Rogers.

“Hey, sweetheart, is that coffee I smell?” Two toned arms slide around Peter’s waist, and immediately the tension leaks out, eyes opening despite not remembering closing them. Tony pauses behind him.

“Is something wrong?”

Brown eyes stare at him, concerned, through the reflection of the glass. Peter quirks his lips, almost dry. “No. Nothing.”

Tony presses his lips to Peter’s shoulder, not breaking their eye contact. “C’mon. You can tell me anything.”

Peter sips his coffee, laying his free hand over Tony’s warm embrace. He sucks on his teeth, a flash of irritation flickering over his face. “Thinking about how much of an asshole Rogers is.”

He feels a smile press into his shoulder.

“Still protective, huh?”

Peter chuckles, pulling on one of Tony’s hand to kiss his fingertips, intertwining their hands. “How can I not be? He’s such… such a dick!”

Tony laughs, a soft tickling sound that wraps Peter up in warmth, better than his hold does.

Tony rests his chin over Peter’s shoulder, staring at both of their reflections with heated reverence. He sighs, tugging on Peter until they’re flushed.

Peter can feeling the hard beating of Tony’s loving heart through his pajamas, and he can’t stop himself from melting into his boyfriend.

“Fuck Rogers,” Peter mumbles. Tony laughs again, kissing the nape of Peter’s neck.

Peter still remembers how utterly broken the centennial left Tony, wounds that go beyond physical hurt. His trust, his heart was broken, and the damn private

(—he isn’t even a real captain)

left Tony to pick up the remaining pieces. Cut a hole through his suit and his will. Peter wasn’t there when Tony had to fix everything—still too young back then, too naïve to truly love Tony yet—but he wishes he was. He wishes he helped in the painful healing process, wishes he was there when Tony needed someone. Sure, he had Pepper, Rhodes, Happy, hell even Aunt May because they built some sort of affinity after she found out about Spider-Man, but he knows it wasn’t even close to let the gaping scars heal properly.

Even when they first started dating (only halfway through his college years), there was this air of unresolved hurt, unfinished business that Peter knew he shouldn’t tangle himself with. But he did anyway, and doesn’t regret any of it. He only wishes he was there earlier.

“You’re here now, you know.” Tony tightens his hold. A shuddering breath is pulled from Peter. God, it’s as if Tony can read his mind.

“You don’t have to hold that over your head. You shouldn’t, sweetheart. It was my problem and I was the only one who could myself out of it.”

Peter sighs, sipping his coffee to take a moment to gather his wits. “I know. I just… wished I was there a little earlier.”

Tony’s wistful smile twists Peter’s heart. “No, Peter. If anything, you came into my life at the perfect time.”

Tony spins him around in his arms, and doesn’t give a second for Peter to breathe before they’re kissing.

It’s the exact opposite of what it was like last night. That was passionate, carnal, almost selfish. This is soft, gentle, warm and everything that Peter feels whenever Tony is around. It’s loving and forgiving, a stark contrast to what their tense relationship was like at the beginning.

“I love you,” Peter mumbles against Tony’s lips. The man only presses his forehead to his, a small smirk on his lips.

“I know.”

Peter snorts. “You Han Solo’d me?”

Tony kisses him again, and Peter can feel him shaking a little bit in laughter. Once he pulls away, that’s when he says, “I love you too, Pete. And nothing in the world can change that.”

[allie1804-fan]

Malaise (Chapter 3 Just Friends No Benefits)

Chapter 1, 2

Warnings Brief mentions of sex

A couple of weeks after the appointment with Tara, Keanu found himself at a loose end and really needing to “scratch the itch” as it were. He called Lucy, one of his “friends”

“Oh hey Ke” she said somewhat hesitantly “How are you doing?”

“ah I’m good thanks, just had some free time at last and thought maybe we could re-connect?”

“uh,errm, well that sounds great ……………but I should tell you, things have changed for me in the past few months”

“Oh, how so?”

The phone went quiet at her end for a few seconds.

 “I’m engaged!”

Now there was a pause his end while he sought to process this news, tamp down his personal disappointment and muster some happiness for her!

“Oh my god, congrats, that’s amazing news, who’s the lucky guy?”

Lucy proceeded to tell him how she’d met her new love Jamie and when the wedding was scheduled etc and they concluded the call with her agreeing to a celebratory lunch date with Keanu the following week, somewhere suitably fancy – he was nothing if not chivalrous even as he was letting go of one of his options for sex in future.

He made the next call straight away, figuring that if there was going to be more disappointment, then he might as well get it all done in one go and if there was a chance that one of his “friends” was free, then it would lift him out of the funk Lucy’s news had left him in. Karen agreed to come over later, saying she could tell he was lonely from the tone of his voice but she also said she’d been meaning to talk to him, just talk, for ages so he already felt that the shutters were coming down there too and that hanging out was all they would be doing.

As they tucked into a take-out pizza and beers that evening, they stuck to small talk but when she wiped her mouth after her last piece, Keanu could feel that she was holding back from making a pronouncement.

“Keanu, if I had to guess why I’m here right now, I’d put my money on you being lonely ……..  and horny and hopeful of moving onto the sofa shortly and working your charm on me”

His eyes widened and he took a swig of his beer.

“My, you’re awfully forthright tonight hun!”

“Well it’s true isn’t it, how many times in the past year have we hung out and not had sex?!”

“errrm, none”

“Correct, and the things is, Keanu, much as I love you and much as you are  fun to be around, so  giving and sexy as hell, I need to move on from being, well, one of your fuck buddies basically. Yes, that’s right, I know that I’m not the only one and I know no promises were ever made, that wasn’t the deal, but I want, no, I need a relationship with a man that gives me more. And the longer I am jumping to your tune like some child following the Pied Piper, the less I’m able to be open to a proper grown-up relationship. One where I prioritise what I want and need, something longer term with commitment on both sides. One where that person can give me time and not just occasional fun and  gifts but strictly on his terms. I’m honestly not complaining about what we had. We were both honest about it and it worked then, but not now. I’m sorry.”

Keanu smiled, a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes

“Good while it lasted though huh?”

“Yes!” she grinned “and I’m not breaking up with you, not as a friend, I hope I can always be your friend”

“Sure, of course, no chance of one final send off huh?” he asked, eyes twinkling mischievously

She pushed him in the chest “no way, that’s just a slippery slope right back where we came from, you cheeky boy!”

They hugged and spent another hour or so chatting and getting used to being ‘just friends’, Keanu trying to avoid staring at her breasts like he would normally.

After she’d gone, he called his third option.

“what a glutton for punishment!” he thought. “Might as well choose between becoming a monk or taking out a direct payment to the agency each month if this one doesn’t work out!

It turned out that Martha, his third girl was out of town on a 6 month work placement. When he called, he recognised a European dial tone and she picked up speaking with a sleepy voice. It was about 7am where she was in Italy.  The opportunity had come up out of the blue and she’d only been there a week and hadn’t gotten round to telling people who weren’t in her immediate circle that she was going.

They talked briefly and he said he would try and tie in a visit if he was in Europe whilst she was still there. He might have movie promo or a bike related trip to make. He hung up feeling utterly dejected. Two of his options were done for good and he wouldn’t mind betting that Martha would meet some gorgeous Italian stallion while she was there and that would be that, finished.

 “God you’re pathetic Reeves” he said out loud to no-one. “The world is your oyster, you’re single - check, rich – check, OK looking – check, what the hell is your problem?”

He took himself off to bed, found some porn to watch and jerked off angrily but despite the ejaculation, the satisfied sleep that should follow eluded him, and when he awoke as dawn was breaking through, he felt a grey malaise shrouding his senses, dulling his movements and fogging his brain.

He had a new film starting in a month’s time but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the character research he should have been doing, learning his lines or working out to make sure he looked the part.  He would look at his phone and think about calling the agency but he didn’t want to get hooked and for that to be his only sexual outlet just seemed kind of tragic. For a couple of weeks  he’d spend his days either sleeping or drinking or tooling  around on his bike for hours up in the mountains. None of that helped him to shake the sense of emptiness and foreboding that filled his spirit.

First his mother noticed he was being slightly morose when they met for lunch one day. He was usually charming with her but he was monosyllabic and not the least bit enthused about their meal, his new film or the latest bike launch with Arch. Patricia flagged her worries to Karina who called round on spec a few days after to find him lolling on the sofa, listening to John Coltrane. His hair was unwashed, he smelled of whiskey and cigarettes and he’d clearly told his housekeeper to stay away for at least 2 weeks.

Alex was next to join the list of people telling him they were worried about him and begging him to share his worries. Even Rob, his band mate who was often a bit oblivious to others’ problems, could tell just from the flatness in his voice when he spoke to him on the phone.

Keanu assured them all that he just needed to get back to work.  

A week before he was due back, with little done to prepare still, he made a decision and called the agency again for Tara. He left instructions about repeating something they had done before that fell into the ‘unusual’ category. It wasn’t that weird but certainly outside the realms of straight sex. When Tara saw the request, she wondered if something was wrong too. That last time he had this request, he had been out of sorts mentally. When he messaged her about dinner, she chose Ramen noodles thinking that would be light and vaguely healthy. She didn’t imagine burgers or pizzas would do him good if he was in a funk about something.  She chose a cosy, close fitting woollen dress in cream for their “date” and hoped she could sooth him if he was troubled.

Keanu greeted her at the door bare foot and freshly showered. Truth be told he hadn’t showered for days before that and, since he had shunned the housekeeper for 2 weeks, just half an hour before her arrival he had cleared up and shoved a load of rubbish and dirty clothes in the garage where she wouldn’t see. The ramen arrived soon after her and they ate in comfortable silence.

 “You OK, Keanu. You look a little tired if you don’t mind me saying. Are you on a shoot again? You don’t usually see me when you’re shooting”

 “naaah, next week,  shooting starts next week and I’m so not ready!”

 “That’s not like you”

“I know, I know, I dunno what’s wrong really, so I figured ……………….”

“Do you really think THAT will help?”

“Well , yeah, don’t you?”

“Not sure to be honest, I’m pretty sure sex would help but that kind of sex???”

What he had asked was for her to tie him up and take him. They had not done that in a long while. The last time her feeling was that it was driven by a deep inner need to submit all control and give up calling the shots. She hadn’t understood then what brought it on but afterwards, he’d gone off to New York, filmed John Wick and made an absolutely cracking film. Maybe this would work for him this time too.

Tara enjoyed the feeling of power at bringing him very slowly to a powerful release and she could feast her eyes on him the whole time and tease him, frustrated as he was not to be able to touch her breasts, lying totally at her mercy.

Afterwards she stayed much longer for the aftercare, making them both a cocoa and trying to get him to open up. He confessed about the friends with benefits situation and she posed the idea that maybe, faced with escorts being his only option and finding that lacking, just maybe his needs emotionally were changing.

“Maybe  it’s time to let your guard down again and let someone in”

“dangerous territory” he muttered

“for who?” she pushed, arching an eye-brow.

“no good has ever come of it, not for me and not for them”

“and how many tries have there been?” she pushed. “how many in the last 10 years say”

He formed his fingers into a 0

“thought so” she said smugly “you don’t even know how it would go if you don’t try”

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Missed Moments with You

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 14353

Summary: Almost six months after Baz drunkenly stumbled back into Simon's life, they're still together and happy. Well, mostly. It'd be great if they had more time together, but work keeps getting in the way. Can their relationship survive their real lives?

Read on AO3

Sequel to “Back to Haunt Me”

AN: HAHAHAHAHA I DID IT BITCHES!!!! I FINALLY FINISHED A FIC AFTER MONTHS OF ILLNESS AND WRITER'S BLOCK!!!! Seriously, I could not do ANYTHING for so long. But I was finally able to do this! Big thanks to @carryonmylovelies for all her help and encouragement. She is the best.

Sadly, I couldn't get this to fit into any of my requests. I will try to get to those, I promise. My brain is just not functioning at full capacity and really hasn't for awhile. Hope you enjoy this one tho :)

Disclaimer: I am not a teacher or a psychiatrist. Most of my knowledge comes from being a student and a therapy/psychiatry patient, plus a little research online. This is not meant to be a super duper accurate representation of either. Dramatic License was taken.

———————————————

Simon

Even though it’s soft, I still hear the door close. It’s not like I have super ears. I’ve just been sleeping lightly, trying to stay up until Baz comes back. I hear him quietly take off his ugly shoes, walk towards the room, and open the door. I stay still as he flops down next to me and gets under the blanket. He lazily throws an arm over my side, long nose pressed against my neck. I love when he does this, wraps himself around me. Baz makes me feel so happy.

“Hey,” I say, barely a whisper. “How was the hospital?”

Baz’s groan reverberates down my skin. “Nearly punched a patient’s father in the face.”

“Sounds like the usual.”

“Mhm. Just another day and night at University College Hospital.” He tosses his leg over mine. Sometimes I swear he wants to bloody climb me. “You should be asleep, Snow, it’s late.”

“You’re up.”

“Because I’m a medical resident and my hours are completely insane. You’re allowed the luxury of a mostly normal sleep schedule, take advantage of it.”

I grab his hand over my stomach, weaving our fingers together. “I like waiting for you.”

“Mm.” He nuzzles closer and holds me tighter, then presses a soft kiss behind my ear. I’m in heaven. “Sap.”

“Always.” I kiss the back of his hand. “We should both sleep now, love.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Night, love.”

I close my eyes, finally sinking into sleep as my wonderful, exhausted boyfriend holds me tight.

———————————————

I’m woken up by my alarm blaring shitty hair metal at top volume. Baz lets out a loud groan into my shoulder.

“Why do you play that rubbish?” he growls. “Why not some nice classical?”

“Because this rubbish wakes me up.” I reluctantly extract myself from Baz’s lovely arms. I hear him roll onto his stomach and spread out in a starfish on my bed. He loves cuddling with me, but he also likes to stretch out his long limbs. I grab my glasses, returning my ability to see properly, then turn around to look at him, and my mouth drops open.

“Baz!” I shout. “You climbed into my bed in your fucking scrubs again!?”

Baz lifts his head slightly and pulls at his light blue scrubs, eyebrows pulled together. “Hm, looks like I did.”

“They’re filthy!”

“No.” He flops back down, face smushed into my pillow. “I washed them yesterday. There’s just a bit of dried blood on my trouser leg. No sick or spinal fluid this time.”

I shake my head, but it’s with a smile. “I can’t believe my neat freak former roommate has developed such low standards of cleanliness.”

Baz makes an annoyed grunting sound before sinking further into my bed. I chuckle and press a kiss to his hairline. He’s already asleep again.

I grab my bathrobe and go into the kitchen, a smile on my face. It’s been five months since Basilton Pitch drunkenly wandered his way back into my life. I never imagined we would see each other again, let alone start dating. But it’s been pretty great. Baz is so much more than I thought he was. I already knew he was brilliant, but he’s also hilarious and kind and utterly amazing. I’m happier with him, and I think Baz is happier with me too.

The only problem is exactly what Baz warned me about when we started dating; he’s insanely busy. The hospital has him on a weird, inconsistent schedule. He’ll sometimes work for over twelve hours then collapse for an entire day afterwards. If that wasn’t hard enough, when this started, I didn’t factor in my own job. Very dumb, considering what I do. When I’m not teaching, I’m usually grading or writing lesson plans, so it’s not like I have a lot of free time either. We once went two and a half weeks without seeing each other. It was awful, but both of us understood. Still missed him though. I miss him a lot. In nearly six months, we’ve been on three proper dates. It’s not that I like fancy dinners and shit, I just like being with Baz. I wish we could be together more.

I stop to give Cherry her morning pet and wet food. She purrs under my hand. Then I make myself instant coffee, the ambrosia of primary teachers, and toaster waffles. I leave some for Baz to heat up later. He has pretty refined tastes, but no one can resist toaster waffles. He’ll probably be up to eat them around noon, when we’ll Skype chat while I have lunch at school. It’s my favourite part of the day. I want it to happen more often.

The phone ringing breaks me out of my lovesick melancholy. Penny’s grinning face stares back at me. I quickly pick it up. “Hey, Pen.”

“Hey Si,” she says, voice crackling slightly. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going alright. Just making myself some shit coffee and toaster waffles.”

“I’m a bit horrified your breakfast habits haven’t changed since uni.”

I scoff very self righteously. “Neither have yours. Last time I visited, you were stuffing your face with pop tarts.”

“You have no proof of that.” I can feel Penny’s glare from across the bloody Atlantic.

“No,” I chuckle. “I guess I don’t. Oh, I did almost get video proof of Baz wolfing down two Big Macs. He finished just after I got my phone out, it was amazing.”

“Ha! Get a video of it when it happens next time, then show me that and I’ll owe you a pint.”

“I’ll try next time we go out.” I slump a little in my chair.  “If we go out...”

Penny sighs in a particular way. It’s the one she uses when she knows I’m down and wants to bring me back up. “Baz still working those long shifts, huh?”

“Yeah, so he’s tired a lot. And our schedules have trouble syncing up. It really sucks and it’s not like either of us have a choice in it, especially him. But still it...it’s like- I just-”

“Part of you doesn’t give a shit about work, you just want to be together more.”

I sink further on the chair, so much so I fear I’m going to melt into the vinyl. “Kinda, yeah. Does that...does that make me a bad boyfriend and person?”

“No, no, absolutely not, Simon. It makes you a normal person who desires their partner.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, but Baz warned me about his job. He told me that he would have insane hours and it would make having a relationship really hard. I told him it was okay, that we would make it work, so I can’t get mad now, right?”

“You’re allowed to be upset that you don’t get to see your boyfriend as much as you wish you could.”

“I guess, yeah.” I shove half a toaster waffle in my mouth. It marginally helps. “I don’t know what to do, Pen. I can’t ask Baz to cut his hours, it’ll mess up his degree and piss off the doctors cause they’ll say he’s ‘not being dedicated’, which is a load of bollocks but it’ll happen. And it’s not like I can change when I work. There doesn’t seem to be a solution.”

Penny sighs. “I don’t know what to tell you, Si. There’s no easy way to deal with this. I think you just have to talk things out.” I groan heavily. “Yeah, I know, you hate talking. But can you think of anything else?”

“No,” I grumble. “Save for just shagging him senseless so we can both let off some nervous stress.”

“Sex doesn’t fix everything.”

“Well, no, but it would be nice to try it period.”

“You two still haven’t slept together?!” she says far too loudly. I hope Micah isn’t home. God, that would be embarrassing. “It’s been months!”

“I know,” I groan, “but we’ve both been busy and tired, especially Baz. Mostly we’ve just been snogging, which is awesome. Baz is a great kisser.”

“Too much information, Si.”

“Sorry, sorry. I like kissing, I’d just like to do...other stuff too.”

“Which is perfectly understandable, and the only way it’s going to ever happen is if you figure out where to go in your relationship. And that’s only going to happen by  talking about it and working something out that both of you can live with.”

I eat another toaster waffle. Again, helps a little, not enough. “That’s hard.”

“And necessary if you want to keep this relationship.” There’s a short pause and I try to speak before Penny interrupts me. “You definitely do want to keep it, right?”

My leg jerks so hard I nearly knock my coffee over. “Of course I do! Baz is kind and amazing and funny and brilliant and I fucking lo-”

We both go silent. I put a hand over my mouth. Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost said that. I haven’t even thought about it before, until now. (Typical, I don’t figure it out until I’m right in the middle of shit.) I mean, I’ve thought about it in a sort of abstract, future way. But not right now, not after only five months together when we spent seven years apart and an equal amount of time hating each other. Could I really be in love already?

“Shit, really?” Penny whispers. “You love him?”

I bite my nails, something I haven’t done since second year of uni. “Uh, I guess, maybe. I don’t know. It’s way too soon and I’m not exactly that experienced in love. I don’t think I can say for sure of anything...”

“Okay. What can you say for sure then?”

“Well,” I stop chewing on my nails, “I know I care about Baz. I enjoy being around him. And I really, really,  really  like him.”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I can deal with that.”

“Good, stick with that, don’t jump too far. Figure out where you two stand before you start talking about love.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, similar to Baz. I’m picking a lot up from him, “I know, I know.” My eyes catch the clock. “Oh shit, I’ve got to go right now. If I’m late my kids are going to destroy the classroom.”

Penny snorts. “The trials of a parent of thirty two children.”

“Exactly. Talk to you later, Pen, love you.”

“Love you too, Si, bye!”

The phone clicks off, leaving me hopelessly alone with my thoughts. So, I want to be around Baz more. That’s reasonable, he’s my boyfriend. But neither of us can be around more because of our beloved jobs. I’m going to have to find some solution. But not right now because I’m going to be very, very late. I rush out the door with only the thoughts of the tube schedule on my mind.

———————————————

“Lishie, no,” I say, taking the marker from her hand, “that’s a shared class writing utensil, you can’t chew on it.”

Lishie pouts at me, blinking her big brown eyes. “But Mr. Snow,” she whines.

“None of that, please. If you must chew on something, please use your own pencil.” I lean down to look at her drawing of a castle. “This is your favourite place, huh?”

“Yeah.” She points at her lovely pink palace. “This is my Lishie only place. It keeps my brother out and shoots lasers at bad guys.”

I nod with a big smile. “Both are very important. Nice work.” I turn to Zahir. His drawing is of a beautiful shoreline with a fiery sunset. “And what place is this?”

“It’s the view from my grandparent’s house,” he chirps.

“It looks lovely, Zahir, good job.”

I stand up and check the other kids. They’re all doing wonderfully. I help where needed, handing them markers and giving colour suggestions. Luckily the kiddos are being good today. I don’t think I can handle their particular brand of tornado like insanity right now.

“Mr. Snow, look what I did!” I lean down to Harrison’s level. His picture is of himself with his two Mums holding hands under an abundance of trees.

“It’s amazing, Harry,” I say. “Where are you three in this picture?”

“We’re at the camping ground where my Mums met. They got married at the lake last year. We go there every summer break.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet.”

“Are you married, Mr. Snow?” Rosanne calls out. I hate mean nicknames. They’re a dumb bullying tactic. At the same time though, “Nosey Rosie” is occasionally apt. Not that I’d ever say that out loud, of course.

“No, I’m not married, Rose,” I say calmly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

The kids start muttering and giggling. I sigh, shaking my head. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend either. But my love life is none of your business, munchkins.”

“A boyfriend?” Liza shouts. “My mum said you probably have a boyfriend.”

I sigh and rub my temple. Well, while her mother is correct, the beautiful and single Ms.Thorn has also made many advances on me. I suppose me being gay rationalises my kind rejections of her. I believe she needs to get over herself.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” I hate lying to the kids, but I’m not going to talk about my relationship with them. “Again, my love life is personal.”

Thandi gasps, and leans over to Riya beside her. Her tone suggests a whisper, but her volume shows she absolutely means to be heard. “What if Mr. Snow has a  secret girlfriend or boyfriend?”

They all start chattering away with big grins on their faces. I sigh heavily. There is nothing ten year olds love more than gossiping, especially about their teachers. I’ve caught my munchkins talking about if the football coach and year 11 science teacher are together. (They aren’t. Both Coach Markova and Mr. Saadia have been married for over twenty years. Their husbands are wonderful friends.) I don’t want to become the next rumour on the playground.

“Okay, hush up all of you,” I say loudly. They all quiet down. “It’s not appropriate to discuss my personal life, so you’re going to stop right now, understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Snow,” they reply all at once in a shamed, slightly annoyed tone. It’s one I’m extremely familiar with.

“Good. Now go back to your drawings, or we’ll start the maths worksheets early.”

They all gasp, then go back to drawing. I hear whispers about normal things, like Power Rangers and Disney movies. I sigh and return to my desk, leaning back in the chair. Honestly, even if I did want to answer the kids, I wouldn’t be sure what to say. I do have a boyfriend officially, but I barely see him. Twice a week at best. It’s not his fault, he tries his best. I fuck up more than him honestly. I just wish we could be...more boyfriends? That doesn’t make sense.

My pocket buzzes and I pull out my phone. I’m not supposed to use it during class hours, but the kids are working right now, it’s fine. The text is from Baz. My pulse speeds up like it does every time. But when I open it, my heart drops instead.

Baz [13:40] Hey love. So sorry but I can’t come over tonight. Need to pick up an extra shift. I promise I’ll make it up to you ❤️

I sigh heavily, trying to suppress the disappointment and hurt. It’s not his fault, he’s doing his best. We’ll figure something out. Right?

Simon [13:41] it’s alright love we’ll find another time

Baz [13:41] ❤️

———————————————

“No, no, hold the rock like this.” Baz adjusts my grip. I love his fingers, long and elegant. If he wasn’t a doctor, I think he would make an incredible pianist.

“How does the way I hold the rock change anything?” I ask.

“It helps you get the right angle to skip it.”

I frown in confusion. “I thought the rock’s shape helped with that.”

“Both help. So,” he guides my arm back, “let’s try.”

Baz’s callused fingers caress my bare skin. I let out a shaky breath. God, I shouldn’t get this hot and bothered from Baz just touching me. I’m not some horndog, I can wait for sex. The pent up tension is just...getting to me a bit.

“Now flick it, Snow,” Baz says.

I fling the stone forward. It flies over the pond, sending ripples across the aquamarine water. The stone nearly reaches the other side before finally dropping. I’m grinning ear to ear. When I turn around, Baz is too.

“Wonderful job, love.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I knew you could do it.”

God, I’m going to melt into a puddle. I peck his lips softly. “Thanks for showing me, love.”

He kisses me back, a bit firmer. I would snog the life out of him right now if we weren’t in the middle of Regent’s Park, apparently a popular relaxation spot for UCLH. We’re surrounded by nurses chatting, residents resting, and doctors smoking cigarettes. (Baz says doctors truly have the least regard for their own health.) We sadly pull apart and take a seat on a bench. I put my head on his strong shoulder, and he throws his arm around me.

“How were psych rounds today?” I ask.

“Awful,” he groans. “Mr. Teversham still refuses to take his medication, and Mx. Joseph is fighting therapy at every turn.”

“Hm, well, you expected this. Any ideas?”

“Mx. Joseph needs to be in therapy without  knowing they're in therapy. Mr. Teversham needs to be sedated so he can’t yell at me anymore.”

I snort. “Not sure that’s legal.”

“It’s not, but one can dream. Both probably need adjustments in their medications but that would affect serotonin levels too much at this delicate stage of treatment.”

“Mm, that sucks. Anything you could do for now?”

“More group therapy and coping techniques, I suppose. Little else we can do.”

I nod thoughtfully. Honestly, I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I try to be interested. It’s important to him so I do my best. 

He slowly strokes my hair. I lean closer to him. “How’s your work going, love?”

“It’s alright. Kids aren’t being too destructive. Oh, I’ve been working on something else though.”

Baz smiles, pulling me closer. “What’s that?”

“A new scone recipe.”

He lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back so far some of his gelled hair gets dislodged. I like the way a few raven strands fall in his face. “You seriously haven’t run out of new ones to try?”

I shrug. “Not yet. Maybe one day.”

“And then you’ll start making your own.”

“Probably.” I throw both arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. “I’ll give them to you to try.”

He chuckles softly. “Well, maybe. I have to stay in good shape to keep up with the other residents, and I can’t mess up what little sleep I have.”

I deflate slightly. Right, he’s gotta watch his health more than me. I should remember that. Bloody hell, I’m a terrible boyfriend. “R-Right. Well, I’ll make something else for you I guess...”

He makes a humming noise, but I can’t tell what it means. I’m horrible at non-verbal cues and unfortunately Baz is still no exception. I want to ask him about being around, about us being together, but the words get all tangled in my throat. I don’t know how to ask him without sounding like a selfish arse. 

(Maybe I am a selfish arse. Maybe I don’t deserve this, deserve him.)

(No no, Simon, stop it, stop with the self deprecation.)

(Even though he is better than me...)

I’m about to open my mouth when two clashing beeps ring out. Baz and I scramble to our phones.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Emergency staff meeting in twenty minutes. I’m gonna need to get a cab.”

“Me too,” Baz sighs. “Dr. Dehnavi wants to talk to me about a new inpatient. I suppose I should be flattered, but I’m more annoyed.”

“We’re both suffering it seems.”

“Apparently.” Baz leans over and pecks my lips. I lean forward, just slightly, asking for more that I can’t have right now. “I’ll text you later, love.”

“Yeah, me too.” We dash off in different directions. The questions I have still hang in my throat, but I put them down for now. Next time. Maybe...

———————————————

Thursday April 21

Baz [06:06] Hi, love. I’m finally done my night shift. We still on for the cafe this afternoon?

Simon [07:01] hey sorry I didn’t get this until now. unfortunately i’ve got some last minute extra tutoring to do with Sasha sorry 

Baz [07:02] It’s alright. You free Friday night?

Simon [07:02] nah got grading ☹️ gotta go to class ttyl!

Baz [07:02] Alright, talk to you later.

———————————————

Sunday April 30

Simon [17:37] hey baz can I come over tonight?

Baz [17:58] Unfortunately not. I’m on call for OBGYN all night. Lots of sitting with tiny sick babies in the NICU...

Simon [18:05] fuck that doesn’t sound fun at all ☹️

Baz [18:06] Absolutely is not. I’ll text you later okay?

Simon [18:06] Okay ❤️

———————————————

Wednesday May 8

Baz [22:24] I miss you

Simon [22:24] I miss you too

———————————————

My phone rings at lunch. Baz’s slightly smiling face looks right back at me. I took the photo one night when we were watching telly. He’s got his hair all piled up in a bun, wearing an LSE sweatshirt. He looks gorgeous, as always. I’m so entranced by the picture that I answer it just before the last ring.

“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Baz replies, sounding extremely tired. (He’s been sounding like that more and more lately.) “How’s your day been?”

“Not too bad. Joey fired a spitball at me, but I took the straw away pretty quickly.“

“Dear Lord, you teach monsters.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Nope, just children, love. They’re naturally nightmares.”

“Don’t have to tell me, Snow, I have four younger siblings.” He sighs, and I can imagine him tilting his head back, hair falling down behind him. It’s a nice image. “Are you free next Friday?”

“Hm, let me check.” I look at my Google calendar, which is filled to the brim with multicoloured event tabs, everything from field trips to when lesson plans need to be done. (I consider the second one more a guideline than a rule.) Friday is surprisingly blank. A grin breaks out across my face. “Yeah, Friday is good. Got something in mind?”

“Well, I finally have a Friday off. So I was thinking we could dress up and go somewhere nice. Somewhere with fine food, candles, a generally romantic atmosphere. Does that sound good to you?”

I can’t help biting my bottom lip like some stupid teenager. I haven’t seen my boyfriend in person in nearly three weeks, sue me. Sure there’s been some texting and calls and Facetimes, but none of that compares to the real thing. I’ve missed how Baz’s long fingers feel between mine, or the way he cups my cheek perfectly when he kisses me. I just want to be with him. And finally we have a chance.

“That sounds very good. And uh...” I take a pause to muscle up courage to say what I really,  really  want to say. “Do you want to go to my place afterwards? And sleep over? But y’know...not sleep?” Baz snorts. My cheeks are probably bright red. I groan and rub my forehead. “Sorry, that sounded dumb. I’m an adult, I should be able to talk about sex openly.”

Baz sighs in his strangely affectionate way. “Well, we both know you’re not the best with words, Snow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Okay, true. But the message still got across right? What I’m asking? But please don’t feel pressured, I just wanted to ask if we could try...”

“Yes, it definitely did. And I would love to try. I think six months is a long enough wait. And I’m really sorry about that.”

“Don’t blame yourself, love, we’ve both been pretty physically absent. Life has just been nuts for us.”

“Agreed. So it’ll be nice to...unwind a bit.”

My face is absolutely bright red now. A lot of inappropriate thoughts are racing through my head right now. I have to shove them down so my brain doesn’t start dribbling out my ears before I have to go back to teaching.

“I-I would like that a lot too.” And of course the first lunch bell decides to ring just then. I groan loudly. “Fuck, lunch is over. Kids will be back soon. Text you later to set up details?”

“Sounds good. Bye, darling.

“Bye, darling.”

I listen until Baz hangs up, then press my phone to my chest with a sigh. I feel so unbelievably giddy. It’s ridiculous, really, to be this excited about a dinner and (possible) sex. But for some reason, my chest is so full it's about to explode. I want to run around the room, shouting to the heavens that I’m going on a lovely, romantic date with Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

Fuck, maybe I really am love. That’s a terrifying, wonderful thought.

———————————————

“Does my hair look alright?” I tousle it to the left, then to the right, then to the left again. Penny sighs and shakes her head on my screen.

“It looks fine either way. But if you don’t decide soon, you’re going to be late!”

I groan and tighten my tie, trying to see myself in my tiny image in the corner. “I know, I know, I just want this to be perfect.”

“Nothing can be perfect, Si.”

“Yeah, but I can try.” I sigh, buttoning my grey suit jacket. This is the one nice suit I own, and I took great precautions to keep it from getting wrinkled on my way to work. “So much hasn’t gone right or easily in our relationship. I want one thing to not go down the drain.”

Penny nods thoughtfully. “Understandable. Just also be realistic.”

“Yes, I will.” I check my watch (a graduation gift from Penny that goes really well with my suit) and inhale sharply. “Shit, I really do have to go. Bye, Pen!”

She waves with a big, toothy smile. “Bye, Si, good luck!”

“Thank you!”

We press the red button at the same time. I tuck my phone into my jacket, then do a last cursory look at myself. No wrinkles? Check. Dashingly messy hair? Check. “Supplies” for later waiting in my bedside table at home? Absolutely check. Awesome. I’m so bloody excited I could seriously start flying right now.

“M-Mr. Snow?”

My head head whips around at the small, familiar voice. It’s Jeremy, with his wavy brown hair and little freckles. He’s sniffling, wiping his nose and blood shot eyes. I immediately rush forward and get on my knees in front of him.

“Jeremy? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He makes a big sniff, more tears falling down his cheeks. “M-My dad was supposed to pick me up outside, but he never came! And Ms. Reinhart tried to call my mum and she’s not answering and I don’t know what to do!”

He breaks out into another sob. He wraps his little arms around my neck, crying into my shoulder. I pat his back, trying to comfort as best I can. Poor kid. I’m unfortunately aware of what Jeremy’s parents are like. This isn’t out of character for them. His dad’s probably off with his college age mistress and his mum is partying late with her friends. From what I know, Jeremy was an accidental teen pregnancy, and now his parents hate each other and resent Jeremy for “ruining” their young lives. (Baz would say something about emotional stunting and projecting and shit.) This is the first time they’ve truly abandoned him though. Poor, poor kid.

“Is there anyone you trust who could come get you?” I ask quietly.

“My aunt,” he sniffles. “But she’s super far away.”

“Okay, where does she live?”

“L-Luton, I think.”

Fuck, he’s not exaggerating. Luton is an hour away on a good day, and it’s the middle of London rush hour. His parents may be able get here before her, but she’s probably much more stable than both of them put together.

“Alright. Do you know her number?”

Jeremy nods and moves off my shoulder. He pulls out a cheap flip phone. One of his parents probably gave it to him for emergencies. That’s one good decision on their part. He then hands it to me. The contact is listed as “Auntie Caroline.” I stand up and press dial, Jeremy still clinging to my leg. It only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Jeremy?” a seemingly female voice says, sounding utterly frantic. “Are you okay, love?”

“Hi,” I say, “I’m Simon Snow, Jeremy’s teacher. Don’t worry, he’s here with me, he’s safe.”

She lets out a very deep sigh. “Oh thank god. Is there something wrong?”

“Unfortunately, yes. His father was supposed to pick him up but hasn’t shown, and his mother isn’t answering her calls.”

“Those bastards,” she growls. “My brother and his good for nothing wife have already put him through hell, but this just takes the bloody cake!”

“Believe me, I agree with you. Considering our shared opinion, I was hoping you could come pick him up? I know it’s a lot to ask this late and you’re all the way in Luton but-”

“Don't have to ask me twice. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But it’s going to take me an hour, maybe two.”

I think about Baz, about everything we have planned, about every missed connection these past few weeks. But then I look down at Jeremy, who has the most tragic expression I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. I sigh heavily, then put the phone back to my ear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him at school until you come. Let me give you the address.”

I rattle off the school’s address, my room number, and the best route to get here. She listens raptly, obviously scribbling it all down.

“Alright, got it. Thank you, Mr. Snow, this means so much to me.”

“No problem, see you soon.”

The line clicks off. I get back down in front of Jeremy. “Your aunt is going to be here soon, Jer. Until then, we’re gonna stay here and sit tight. Okay?”

Jeremy nods, wiping away more snot. “O-Okay.”

“Awesome. How about you go sit in the reading corner and I’ll join you in just a sec.”

“Okay.” He throws himself at me, hugging me tight. “Thank you, Mr. Snow.”

I smile and pat his head. “You’re very welcome, Jeremy. Now go read and get your mind off all this.”

He pulls away and runs over to the reading nook, throwing himself into the neon pink bean bag chair. He grabs a Harry Potter book. Good pick, it’s something he’s familiar with. Though I hate to think how much he relates to the way Harry grew up.

I go to my desk on the other side of the room and take my phone out. Baz’s beautiful contact picture stares back at me, and my heart twists painfully. I hate this situation. I hate that I’m doing this again after nearly three bloody weeks of no physical contact. I can only hope he can understand. And forgive me. The other end rings three times. 

“Hey.” Baz’s honey sweet voice is both comforting and painful right now.

“Hey,” I sigh.

“Oh no, that’s not a good ‘hey,’ is it?”

“No, unfortunately, it’s not.” I run a hand through my hair. “Remember Jeremy? One of my kids?”

“Yes, the one with the arsehole parents.”

“Yeah, that’s him. And tonight his parents have really taken the cake. Dad was supposed to be here but is probably off shagging his barely legal mistress, and mum is probably out clubbing and not picking up either.”

“Bloody hell, what a nightmare.”

“Exactly.” I slump into my chair, tugging my tie loose. “His aunt’s coming to pick him up, but...she lives in Luton...”

It’s Baz’s turn to sigh deeply. “And you’re going to have to stay with him until she gets there.”

God, I'm such an arsehole, and a predictable one at that. “I’m so, so sorry, Baz. I really wanted to go out tonight, and I know you don’t get many days off. This is such an out of the blue thing and I can’t just leave him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s alright, Snow, I understand. I’ll hold you to that promise, okay?”

“Please do. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“That’s good. Bye, love.” The tinge of sadness in Baz’s voice fucking kills me.

“Bye, darling.”

He hangs up, and I hang my head with a quiet groan. I’m such a dickhead. I could’ve left Jeremy with Ms. Reinhart and went on my date, but I know she has a sick mother at home that she takes care of. Then I would have ruined the date by feeling all guilty and shit. I hate that this is probably the best choice.

“Mr. Snow?” I turn to Jeremy. He’s looking at me with a furrowed brow and pout. “Are you okay?”

I shove all my guilt and worry deep down, and put a big smile on my face. “Yeah, I’m good, Jer. Now how about you read some Harry Potter to me? I’d love to hear it.”

A grin breaks out on his face. “Okay.”

I leave my jacket and tie on my desk and stride over to him. I sit in the beanbag next to him. (Of course I didn’t get these things just for the kids.) Jeremy opens the book to his page.

“Chapter 12,” he starts with gusto

And I sit there listening to him for God knows how long. I laugh, make comments, correct his pronunciation when needed. I'm still a teacher after all. Then when the chapter is done, we watch silly animal videos on my laptop. I make sure Jeremy is happy. He deserves that after all of this. He needs to feel safe. I just wish it wasn’t at the sacrifice of Baz getting stood up,  again. God, am I ever going to get to see my boyfriend again? Is the universe ever going to let us have a moment together? I can’t really blame the universe though, I guess. This was my choice. I’m awful. Baz doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him, honestly.

Soon enough, a middle aged woman with long pink and purple hair sticks her head through the door at the other side of the room. “Hello?”

Jeremy grins and drops the book immediately. “Auntie Caroline!”

Caroline grins and catches Jeremy right in her arms, holding him up high. I walk to them but keep a good distance. “Hey munchkin, good to see you. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Snow stayed with me. We watched kittens!”

“That sounds awesome.” Caroline turns to me. “Thank you so much, Mr. Snow. Is there any way I can repay you?”

I wave my hand. “Don’t worry, no payment is needed. Just glad Jeremy has somewhere to go.

Her face falls slightly. She puts Jeremy down, touching his head. “Can you go get all your stuff, dear?”

“Okay!” Jeremy races off to the cubby area at ten year old speed. It’s a unique phenomenon. Caroline looks at me with a very serious expression.

“Here’s the thing,” she says in a hushed tone, “I’ve been trying to build a custody case for months, but I haven’t been able to get concrete proof of abuse and neglect. This changes things. If my lawyer needs you to, could you please testify at the custody hearing? I know it’s a lot to ask. You’ve already done so much, so if you can’t, I understand-”

“Say no more.” I take a sticky note from my desk and write out my mobile number. “Here. Tell your lawyer they’re free to call me. I’ll do anything to help Jeremy get somewhere safe.”

She sighs and takes the note. “Thank you, Mr. Snow.”

“Please, call me Simon. Only my students have to use my last name so I can pretend I have their respect.”

She chuckles. “Okay, Simon. It’s no wonder Jeremy says you’re his favourite teacher.”

Well, I don’t need an ego stroke (at least that’s what I tell myself), but...it’s nice. I nod with a humble smile. “Good to know.”

Jeremy runs up, wearing his bright red power rangers backpack. “Ready.”

“Awesome. Say goodbye to Mr. Snow.”

Jeremy gives me a big, full arm wave. “Bye bye, Mr. Snow.”

I tousle his hair, making him giggle. “Bye, Jeremy. See you Monday.”

“See you!” He grabs Caroline’s hand and literally skips away with her. Honestly, I’ve never seen him this happy outside of class. He usually hangs his head and slumps off after hanging around in the cubby area for as long as possible. I know the patter well. It's what I used to do before I went to Watford, when I was stuck in shitty group homes. I hope Caroline gets custody. Jeremy deserves to be happy.

Slowly but surely, I collect all my stuff, from my snot covered jacket to my book bag. I look at my phone, and see a few texts from Baz.

Baz [16:56] Hey, just wanted to reassure you that I’m not upset, I understand. I’ll get another day off eventually.

Baz [18:30] I’ve got some takeout, it’s lovely. I’ll save some for you the next time you come over ❤️

Baz [19:18] I’m going to bed soon. Hope Jeremy gets to his aunt’s safe. Good night, love.

I sigh, my heart feeling like a lead balloon. I absolutely need to make this up to him. I’ll figure something out when my brain isn’t so exhausted. For now, I can at least text him back.

Simon [19:23] Sleep well, love. I’ll talk to you in the morning ❤️

Baz doesn’t reply. He’s probably asleep. Probably...

I walk home with my shoulders slumped and feeling like an utter, utter twat.

———————————————

“I’m a dick,” I groan.

“You’re not a dick,” Penny says. “You did the right thing and kept a student safe. That makes you an incredible teacher.”

“And a crap boyfriend.” I throw my cookie dough on the counter a little too hard. It makes an awful splat noise.

“Well, maybe, but Baz has bailed because of his work as well. And he said he understood.”

I grumble as I roll out little balls between my hands. Baking always helps me calm down. Well, usually. Right now I’m close to crushing each one. “Yeah, I guess, but I still feel super bad.”

“Well, take him out on his next day off.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle darkly, “that’ll probably be in about two or three months.”

Penny sighs, sounding just as defeated as I feel. “That fucking sucks. I can’t believe his schedule is really that insane.”

“He works himself to the bone, because he’s a great doctor and he’s going to be a great psychiatrist. It just means we don’t get a lot of time together, but it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. Both of you need to carve out more time for each other. You’re not the only one who is having issues, Si.”

“Yeah, but like, he can’t help but work more. Being a doctor is more demanding than being a teacher. He doesn’t have control of his hours.”

“Neither do you!” She’s practically yelling. “Being a good teacher means going above and beyond for your students. Therefore, you  have to put in extra hours if you want your students to have a great education.”

I make a semi agreement noise. My non-verbal way of saying she may have a point but I don’t like it. “Okay, maybe. But Baz doesn’t deserve to be neglected because of it.”

“Of course he doesn’t, Si, which is why you have to make time for him. And he has to do the same for you if you want this relationship to work.”

“I know you’re right, Pen, I just don’t know how.”

There’s a small pause, and I can imagine Pen stroking her chin like the old scholar she is in spirit. It’s comforting to think of. Penny thinking was a staple of the best parts of my childhood.

“What time is it where you are?” she asks.

I look down at my watch. “Uh, about 11?”

“Good. Finish what you’re baking, bring it to the hospital, surprise Baz with home baked treats. Then see if you can get Baz to go to lunch with you. If not, at least give him something to eat during his insane shift. Try to talk to him or ask him to talk about all this later. Sound doable?”

I’m grinning so wide it threatens to dislodge my earbuds. “Yeah, definitely sounds doable. Thanks, Pen.”

“No problem. Si. Now can I run this new lesson plan by you?”

“Absolutely, go ahead.”

Penny starts rattling off her curriculum points while I throw the cookies in the oven. And for the first time today, I feel good. I feel hopeful. It’s nice. I’ve missed it.

———————————————

UCLH is a towering, intimidating giant of white metal and panes of glass. It’s hard to not feel freaked out looking at it. Anytime I went to the hospital as a kid it was because of a fight at the group home or injuries from particularly awful foster parents. There was never a good reason to be here. Until now, that is.

From what I remember, Baz said he would be on psychiatry today. Problem is, I have no idea where the fuck that is. I can barely navigate my tiny school. This is an entirely different, far more sterile beast. I walk to the front desk where a man with big round glasses and very cool arm tattoos is sitting.

“Hi,” I say cheerily as possible.

“Hello,” he replies with a perfect, pearly white smile and a thick American accent. “How can I help you today?”

“Uh, I’m looking for the psychiatry wing? Specifically for Dr. Grimm-Pitch.”

“Okay. Are you a patient...?

“No, no, I’m his boyfriend. Got some stuff to drop off for him if he’s not too busy.” I hold up the Christmas tupperware filled with raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies. They’re Baz’s favourite.

The man’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, you’re Basil’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah, last time I checked,” I chuckle.

“Wow. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Shepard, from Omaha, Nebraska.” 

He holds out his hand, and I of course shake it. “Nice to meet you, Shepard from Omaha, Nebraska. I’m Simon, from uh, Lancashire, I guess.”

“Good too meet you too, man.” He leans his cheek on his hand. “Y’know, Basil has mentioned you exist a couple times, but won’t say anything else no matter how much I beg him.”

I shrug with a smile. “He’s a private person.”

“Yeah, but if I were dating you, I’d be bragging about it.”

Well, now my face must look utterly ridiculous. I’m twenty five years old and blushing from one compliment. “T-Thanks, wow. You’re pretty forward.”

He throws his head back laughing. “Nah, just blunt, man. And way too nosy, at least according to your boyfriend. Says I have some sort of anxiety fueled need to overshare and figure out everything about people."

"That...sounds odd."

Shepard shrugs. "Pretty sure it's made up. Besides, I already have two therapists. Don't need a third one." He laughs, and I laugh along with him. Thought part of me is truly concerned about him. Hope he's okay, he seems nice. "Anyway, I hope Basil is less intense outside of work than here.”

“Most of the time, yeah. He’s got his softer side, just has trouble showing it.”

“Believe it when I see it. Also,” he hands me a pamphlet, “psychiatry is on the fifth floor. Take the south elevator up and turn to the right. Basil should be at the front desk. Said he had patient files to sort all day.”

“Awesome, thanks.” I take out a cookie and hold it out to him. “Here, you can have this, unless you’re allergic to berries, gluten, or dairy.”

“Nope. I will happily take that.” He plucks it from my hand. “Thanks, man. Tell Basil I say hi, and I still have his pen.”

“Will do, thanks!”

He waves me off with half the cookie already in his mouth. Interesting guy. I may have to come back to talk to him more.

I follow Shepard’s instructions as best I can. Though I get lost trying to find the elevators,  twice. The halls twist and turn and loop back in on themselves. Seriously, who designed this hospital, Willy Wonka? Eventually I finally make it to the elevators and suffer in the sanitizer smelling tube for five floors. The psychiatry floor itself isn’t too bad, just kind of bland. Lots of blank grey walls and inoffensive paintings of scenic nature. And it’s pretty straight forward compared to the first floor. I just have to walk down the hall, turn at the “front desk” sign, and there will be-

I freeze in place. There’s Baz, with some redheaded guy leaning on his desk.

“Come on, Basil, you can’t be serious,” he says in a smooth, beautiful voice. “I’d totally shag Dr. Mayer over Dr. Dehnavi. Mayer has such polished charm.”

“Hm, I prefer a more ruggish look,” Baz replies with a half smile. “And Dehnavi gets that wonderful five o’clock shadow after a day of rounds.”

“True, very true. Not so hot when he’s yelling about oral board prep.”

Baz lets out a laugh, shaking his head. Wisps of black hair fall in his face. He looks at the redhead with a sly smile. “Well, I haven’t gotten to that point yet. But I do get an earful about SSRI dosage levels.”

“Oh lord, you’re giving me baby doctor flashbacks, stop. I’m scared Dr. D is going to be on the other side to yell our asses into submission.” 

They laugh together, and redhead moves closer to Baz, their hands nearly touching. My heart drops to the ground and burrows into the centre of the fucking Earth.

Baz looks at ease, content, and most of all, this guy seems to understand what the hell he’s talking about. Definitely more than I ever have. And he’s super bloody attractive. And he’s there, like I haven’t been. Fuck. Deep down, I thought this was going to happen, but it’s still ripping me apart. Baz has found someone better. I’m just the stupid poor orphaned kid he had a crush on in school. Now he’s gotten those old feelings out of his system and he’s found someone, another doctor no less, who can easily be a better boyfriend. Bloody hell, I’m about to cry. I need to go, right now.

I quietly and quickly get away. Going back through the hospital is a blur. And not just because my eyes are filled with tears and fogging up my glasses. My brain is a jumbled, heartbroken mess that can’t focus on anything. I think Shepard waves at me as I walk past but I can’t bring myself to respond right now. I don’t stop moving until I throw myself into my car, tossing the cookies on the front seat.

Finally, I have to stop. And worse I have to think. So, Baz has found a new guy. Some pretty red haired doctor who makes him laugh with doctor humour and probably doesn’t bail. He’s probably going to break up with me today. I should just break up with him, save him the hassle...

I’m gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white. My cheeks are raw from wiping tears away. I think about losing Baz, losing a chance to make things better, and it's the worst pain I've ever felt. A small part of me thought that maybe Baz was it. That he was the person I could actually, possibly spend the rest of my life with. Maybe it was a stupid thought. I was so stupid.

My head falls forward, forehead pressed against the wheel. And I just cry.

———————————————

I’ve called in sick for a week. I’ve never called in for that long, not once in my teaching career. But I can’t get off my couch, let alone leave my flat. I’ve been laying here for days, surrounded by takeaway wrappers, watching old Dr. Who episodes, cuddling Cherry nonstop. Penny is probably worried about me but I haven’t really been using my phone. I’ve tried to call Baz a few times, but always hang up before it starts dialing. I know I should just rip off the band-aid already. But I’m a coward, I guess. I’ll just lay here, waiting for Baz to call me and finally dump me. Every time I think about it, I still cry a little.

The phone rings and my heart gets so tight I can hardly breathe. Fuck, this is it. I slowly lift it up. But it’s not Baz’s photo I see, or Penny’s. Rather, it’s Agatha’s, grinning with her soft California tan. I press talk right away.

“Hello?” I say

“Oh thank god,” Agatha sighs, “you’re alive. We were all sure you’d been in a horrible accident or something!”

“Um, no, I’m fine, just a little under the weather.”

“Then why haven’t you been answering your fucking texts, you arse?!”

I move the phone away from my ear slightly to avoid hearing loss. “I told you, I’ve been sick. Haven’t felt like responding...”

“Okay, that excuse could work on Baz or even Penny, but I’m not buying it. Cut the crap, Simon, what’s wrong?”

I sigh, running a hand over my face. Well, she’s here, and I’m too tired to make up another lie. “Baz is breaking up with me.”

“What?!” I move the phone again. Agatha is going to make me go partially deaf in one phone call. “That dickhead! I- Wait, what do you mean is?”

“Well, uh...he hasn’t dumped me yet...”

Agatha takes a pause. I can imagine her expression right now. Probably a lot of confusion mixed with disbelief. “Okay, please explain this to me, because I’m so lost.”

I sit up, scratching the back of my neck. “Well, um, Baz and I have been having issues meeting up for the past month. Things kept happening. Baz had this wonderful date planned after three weeks of not seeing each other. But then a kid from my class needed someone to stay with him because his stupid parents wouldn’t show up and we had to wait for someone else. So I cancelled and Baz said he understood but I still felt awful. Then the next day I was going to bring him cookies to say sorry, but when I got there, I saw him chatting with this redhead doctor. And I realised Baz had found someone better. Hoped it wouldn't happen but yeah, he’s going to break up with me. Just waiting for him to call or come over. I’d do it myself but I’m too much of a wimp.”

There’s a long drawn out silence. The only sounds are the California waves on Aggie’s end and Cherry meowing for attention on mine. More than ever, I wish I was a mind reader. I want to know what’s going through her head. It’s probably less muddled than mine.

“Simon,” she says slowly, “I need you to know that I’m only saying this because I love you very, very much. This all comes from a place of caring.”

“Uh...okay?” Now I really need to know what’s in her head. But I think I’m about to find out.

Agatha takes a few deep breaths, and then, well...explodes. “You absolute, goddamn fucking numpty! You’re seriously throwing away objectively the best relationship you’ve ever had because you saw him chit chatting with some redheaded twat!? For Christ’s sake, Simon, this is beyond idiotic and self destructive!”

“Hey I-”

“Shush, Simon!” I shut my mouth. “I get you have some serious self esteem issues, Si, but what happened to acknowledging and dealing with them? You are not a warm body for Baz until he finds someone ‘better.’ He’s been pining after you since bloody Watford and being with you is his dream come true. I know because he’s told me so!”

My cheeks flush a little. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really! He adores you, Si, he thinks you hung the bloody moon. In no world would he just up and dump you!”

“I-I mean, yeah, but like, I’ve been an awful boyfriend lately. I wouldn’t blame him if he did...”

“You really think Basilton Pitch, king of overthinking and future psychiatrist, would dump you without first trying to talk?”

“Um, well, I can see your point.”

“Good. I promise you, Simon, he doesn’t want to break up with you. But if you don’t talk to him soon, it may be too late. So get your arse in gear and get your guy. Or I’ll come from all the way across a continent and an ocean just to smack you upside the head.”

I chuckle softly. Huh, this is the first time that’s happened in awhile. Feels good to laugh. “Okay, will do. Thank you, Ags.”

“You’re very welcome, Si. Please send me an update later so I know you’re okay? And Penny too so she doesn’t blow a gasket.”

“I promise. Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Simon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The second my phone is off, I jump up. I’m invigorated with new energy, both happy and terrified. I may have just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me because I’m insecure as fuck. I’ve got to fix it. Before it’s too late.

I pick up all the takeaway containers at lightning speed. They don’t all fit into my trash though (God that’s sad), so I have to get a new trash bag. At least I don’t have a depression nest anymore. That’s a good start. Next step, I run to the shower. I smell fucking ripe. No way I can apologize while smelling like the bottom of a McDonald’s dumpster. Thank every god that I still have some hot water left. I scrub quickly and furiously until I stop feeling so gross.

I jump out and go to my room. Unfortunately, I haven’t done my laundry in a week either. The only things I have are a baggy pair of jeans and one of Baz’s shirts. It’s soft cream with flower buds on it. For all his dark brooding, Baz has a thing for florals. It smells like him, cedar and bergamot with a hint of hospital antiseptic. I put it on.

I’m halfway through the buttons when I hear my door open and close. What the fuck? Who’s here? Who has a key?

“Snow?” Baz’s voice calls out. “Simon, are you here?”

Oh. Oh shit. I dash out of my room, shirt still half open. I even slide on my laminate floor like a cartoon character. Baz is standing in my entryway. And he looks like a total mess. His hair is disheveled, there are huge dark circles under his eyes, and he’s got close to an actual honest to god beard. We just stare at each other way too long. Until I can find my words again.

“Baz,” I stutter. “Hi. W-What are you-”

“Oh thank god.” He runs forward and throws his arms around me in the tightest hug I’ve ever felt. “You’re alive. I thought you were dead or in a coma or-” He pulls back. His eyebrows are all scrunched up. “Is that my shirt?”

My face starts to heat up. “Um, uh, yeah. Didn’t have anything else. I was going to see you. What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

He scoffs, but it’s with a smile. “No, not really, I’ve been worried sick all week. You weren’t answering my texts or Bunce’s. I was scared shitless. I came here because it was my last resort.” He pushes back my hair, rubbing his thumbs along my temple. It’s downright tender. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.” His hands move to my shoulders. “Where did you go?”

“I, uh-” I hang my head. “I-I did something dumb. And I got super sad and I didn’t know what to do. So I was just here a lot...”

His eyes grow wide. “You were here at your apartment? All week?”

“Um, yeah...”

He steps back and blinks. His face is just blank, and honestly it’s more freaky than him panicking. “You’ve been home alone all week, and didn’t tell me?” I nod slowly. That blank face suddenly morphs into unbridled anger. “What the fuck, Snow?! You couldn’t take two seconds to text me back to let me know you’re bloody alive?!”

“I-I didn’t know you texted.”

“Check your phone!”

I scramble over to my couch and scoop up my phone. I haven’t looked at my notifications out of fear. Oh...oh fuck. 53 missed text messages, and 42 are from Baz. My stomach feels like it’s full of rocks. I really am the worst.

“Oh god,” I say, voice very strained. “I’m so sorry, Baz, I was just so caught up in my shit, I wasn’t checking my phone-”

“Obviously.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Why did you come to my work?”

My eyes go very wide and my body becomes very stiff. “Wait, you saw me there?”

“No, but Shepard came to talk to me the next day. He asked if my boyfriend was alright because he ran out looking upset. I was surprised he knew who my boyfriend was, and even more so that you were there. So why were you at UCLH and talk to me?”

“Uh, I wanted to talk to you and say sorry for standing you up. B-But when I came, you were um, talking to this guy...” I curl in myself, rubbing my arm. “And I freaked out because I thought after I fucked up the date you’d found someone better and...were going to dump me.”

I look up, and Baz’s jaw is wide open. He drags his hands down his face. “Oh my god, Simon,” he groans, “after all the time we’ve spent together, I can’t believe you still think that low of me.”

“N-No! I don’t!”

“You thought I would dump you after six months together because of a cancelled date? Which you cancelled to help a neglected child?! I’m not a monster, Snow, I’d never do that.”

“Y-Yeah, I know, Baz. It’s just...” I rub the back of my neck. “When I saw you with him, it made all this shit come up and I totally panicked-”

“I understand that, Simon. But it was one conversation with another guy! Why did you ghost me instead of just talking?”

He sounds less angry, more desperate than anything. But it makes me feel even worse. “Because...because I got scared and anxious and I hated seeing it so much...yeah.”

Baz’s mouth is a thin line. “That’s not a real answer, Snow. Why on Earth did you think the worst of me instead of trying to talk?”

“It’s not about you!” I shout desperately. All the words are so muddled up, I can’t get them out. It’s not Baz’s fault, my brain is just being so unhelpful right now. I wasn’t ready for this talk, fuck.

“What does that mean? You stopped talking to me because you thought I was bloody cheating on you! How is this not about me in some capacity?!”

“I didn’t think you were cheating! I just- I thought- I just got so freaked out because I didn’t want to lose you-”

“You weren’t going to lose me!”

“But I thought I was and that scared me so much because I- well, I-”

“Because what, Snow?!”

“Because I love you, you massive arsehole!”

The room goes absolutely, perfectly silent. Baz’s lips have fallen wide open. I inhale sharply. Oh God, did I really just say that out loud? I clap a hand over my mouth and look down, trying to get my breathing under control. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m such an idiot. Baz is going to dump me for sure. Adores me or not, I’ve probably scared him off. My hand falls down.

“I’m so sorry, Baz,” I say softly. “I-I didn’t mean to say that. It just came out-”

“Did you mean it?” I lift my eyes up slightly. I expect Baz to look horrified, angry, maybe even disgusted. But instead he looks...kind of awestruck? His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them before. I think about lying, but I don’t think he’s upset. And I have a feeling that if I lie he will be. I think I need to stop hiding my feelings from Baz.

“Yeah. I did.”

His lips fall open even more. And I swear, he’s smiling a little. My heart is beating faster. “Seriously? You...you love me?  In love with me?”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down my racing mind. I nod and take a small step forward. Not crowding Baz, but getting closer. “Yeah. I'm in love with you, Baz. I-I know it’s too soon, but I can’t help-”

Baz cuts me off with the most intense, head spinning, world shaking kiss of my life. He presses the small of my back with one hand and grabs my curls with the other. I literally stumble backwards from it. Baz takes the chance to press me against my hallway wall. Like he’s shielding from the world with his own body. He’s kissing me so hard, so passionately, and I can’t help but melt. 

Is this Baz’s way of saying he loves me too? I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t care. This is heavenly to the Nth degree. I’m good at turning off my brain when needed. So that’s exactly what I do.

I push back against Baz with equal force. He groans so deeply it makes me shudder. I grip his face tight, pushing my fingers through his tangled but still soft hair. He drags his tongue along my bottom teeth, slowly and carefully. I nearly melt into a puddle. We’ve never kissed like this before. Even our most intense snogging sections don’t come close. It’s like Baz is trying to touch and grab every part of me but can’t decide which. I don’t mind. He can have it. I’d give him all that I am and more. I’d tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber.

Baz runs his hands down my thigh. I can feel the heat through my trackies. He hooks under one of my knees, pulling it up. I think I get the message. (I hope). I jump, fully prepared to fall flat on my arse, but Baz catches me easily. I wrap my legs around his waist while he holds me up above him. Christ, he’s strong. It’s so hot. And I love this angle, because I can snog the life out of him more easily. This is amazing. But I still want more.

I pull off his mouth (sadly), just enough so I can speak. “Bed?”

Baz just nods and kisses me again. He pulls us off the wall. He barely stumbles as he walks us through my flat. I scramble to unbutton his shirt. I know Baz is really into this because he’s making no fuss about me possibly ruining his clothes. Soon enough, we stumble into my bedroom. Baz quickly kicks the door shut, cutting off the rest of the world, and I don’t mind one bit.

———————————————

Baz and I roll apart solely because we need to breathe. Our chests are heaving. My blankets and sheets are completely tangled around us. I’m more sweaty than the one time I tried to go to a cross fit class. However, this was a way better workout. I’m glad I kept all those supplies in my nightstand.

So, now I know what sex with Baz is like. It’s sweaty, vigorous, a little awkward, and so,  so  incredible. Pretty sure my brains have been thoroughly fucked out. It takes me a few panting moments for me to muster up a singular word.

“Wow,” I say. My voice is really hoarse, but I absolutely don’t mind.

Baz lets out a small laugh. His voice sounds rough too. It’s really hot. “Still very eloquent.”

“Fuck off.” I lightly push his sweaty shoulder. But when I start to pull back, Baz grabs my wrist and tugs me towards him. Before I know it, Baz is kissing me again. It’s soft, slow but so unbelievably hot. I completely melt into his arms. He’s so warm and strong and I could spend an eternity wrapped up in him. No more work or life, just Baz and I in this bed forever. My god that would be a dream come true.

He pulls off to kiss across my cheeks, then down my neck. He already knows the exact spots that drive me insane. (Well, Baz has always been a quick study.) My eyes flutter closed. I’m falling into that haze again, where my head gets foggy and I can only think in “yes” and “please” and  “more.” Part of me wants to sink back into that bliss, but the aching of my out of shape muscles is unfortunately more insistent.

“Baz,” I whisper, “as much as I would like a fourth round, I’d also like to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Baz groans, but relents and rolls onto his back. We settle for just staring at each other. I don’t mind. Baz is always gorgeous but he is a different kind of beautiful right now. His face is all flushed, pupils blown wide, black hair plastered to his damp forehead. And I thought I couldn’t get more attracted to him.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, absolutely.” I cup his face, running a thumb on his cheekbone. “You?”

“I’m bloody fantastic.” He spreads his fingers out on my side, tracing the most delicate patterns that make me shudder. “Can’t believe I was so scared of this.”

My heart beats faster as my eyebrows scrunch up. “Scared? Of what?  Me? I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize, Snow. I wasn’t scared of you, not at all.” He sighs and pulls me a little bit closer. “I just built up sex with you so much in my head that it became overwhelming. I was terrified of fucking it up after wanting it for so long.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it from the start too. Six months of sexual tension really mess with your head.”

He chuckles. I like the way his breath hits my skin. “Simon, love, I first fantasised about sleeping with you when we were 15.”

I was already flushed, but now I’m on fire. It’s a miracle I’m not a pile of ash right now. I flap my mouth open and closed like a fish for too long. Baz just smiles at me like I’m beautiful or something, not a total deer in the headlights.

“R-Really?” I finally get out. “That long?!”

“Mhm. I told you, Snow, I figured out I wanted you in fifth year. Puberty was a bloody nightmare with you right across the room.” We laugh quietly together. But I genuinely feel bad for Baz. I hold the back of his head, running my fingers through his soft hair.

“I’m sorry you went through that, love. Must’ve been awful.”

Baz sighs, putting his hand on mine. “Thank you. At least things worked out in the end." He pecks the tips of my fingers. "I’m glad we finally did this. Real life was far better than any fantasy.”

I kiss the corner of his smile. He giggles, so small and adorable, something I never would’ve thought Baz was capable of until six months ago. I’m so happy. And my heart sinks, thinking about how this was almost over because I was so insecure.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, and Baz’s face becomes much more serious. “I-I’m sorry that I vanished without telling you. That was immature and dumb. And I’m sorry for scaring you. I promise I won’t ever do that again.”

Baz nods slowly, mouth twisting from side to side. He brings our hands between us, holding me tight. “I accept your apology. Just, what happened, love? I’m still not sure what you meant.”

Well, I knew this was coming. Doesn’t make it any easier. I clutch him hard, like I’m scared he’ll go. But if the last hour or two means anything, I don’t think he will. Still, I hold him tight.

“That’s a long story,” I sigh.

Baz presses his lips to the back of my hand. It’s firm and comforting. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”

I carefully roll onto my back. Baz goes onto his side, propping his head up with his free arm. We keep our hands together. I really can’t let go of him right now.

“I meant it when I said it wasn’t about you,” I say. “It’s really not. I don’t think you’re a terrible person who would dump or cheat on me. It’s more that...that I was scared and felt worthless. Part of me has always felt worthless, unlovable. Sometimes my brain is like ‘your own parents didn’t want you, why would anyone else?’”

“Simon-”

“You don’t need to tell me it’s not true, Baz, I know. Most of me does, anyway. But sometimes that mean voice gets louder, and it’s been louder lately. Not because of you, not really. It’s because I think you’re incredible and brilliant and that mean voice kept telling me ‘why the hell is he with you? He’s way too good for you. He’ll find someone better.’ And after weeks of missed dates and the whole dinner fiasco, it got worse. Then when I saw you with the other doctor I guess the anxiety just took over. And I just sort of shut down.”

Baz moves closer. “I’m sorry, that’s horrible.”

“Thanks.” I sigh and run a hand through my tangled hair, like I’m trying to pull the stress out of myself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this. I didn’t want to dump all my shit on you. It’s a lot to deal with and I should deal with it on my own, not pull you in.”

“Simon,” Baz says firmly, holding himself above me, “you can absolutely pull me into your shit. I want to know everything you’re worried and scared about, so I can be there to help if you want. You never have to hide anything because I love every single part of you, no matter how insecure or sad.”

I stare at him for too long. My heartbeat is roaring in my ears. Slowly, a smile stretches out across my face. “You love me?”

Baz’s face pulls together in confusion, and for a moment I’m scared he’s going to take it back, because I’m not worth it. But then I push that fear down because Baz cares about me. He’s shown that again and again. I'm not unworthy of his love.

“Did I not say it?” he says, genuinely surprised and concerned.

“I mean, maybe, but things were a bit...chaotic before.” My eyes flick over to our rumpled clothing strewn across my room. It honestly looks like a tornado somehow hit both a Primark and a Topshop. Baz laughs with a nod.

“Okay, good point. Let me correct that then.” He delicately holds my chin, making sure our eyes meet. Black hair surrounds his face like a dark halo. His deep sea eyes sparkle with his gorgeous smile. Everything about him is absolutely stunning. “I love you, Simon Snow. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, because you are the most kind, most caring, most wonderful man I’ve ever known. You are not a holding place or my second choice. Got that?”

I nod very vigorously. I can’t speak right now, my throat is too filled up with all my emotions for words. I wipe my snot and tears with the back of my hand. Extremely unsexy. God I’m a mess. But Baz still looks at me like I’m the most gorgeous thing in the world, because he loves me, imperfections and all. 

“Don’t cry, love,” Baz chuckles, “it’s okay.”

“Just overwhelmed,” I say, still sniffling, “and happy. I love you too.”

Baz kisses my forehead.  “I know, and I’m very happy as well.” He tucks his head into the crook of my neck. “Not to get all psychiatrist, but these issues of hidden insecurities and fear we both have are going to reoccur if we don’t communicate more.”

I nod, rubbing the arm he has across my chest. “Yeah, I agree.”

“Good.” He rolls slightly, chin placed on my shoulder. “In the name of communication then, I think not seeing each other for weeks on end isn’t good for us. We need to try to meet in person more.”

“Yeah, definitely. I think not seeing you for a while made my anxiety get worse. Thought you would dump me because it was too hard for us to meet up.”

“Honestly,” Baz sighs, “I felt something similar. Not as badly as you, I think, but still not fun. The self deprecating part of me wondered when you would finally get sick of my insane schedule and break up with me. I’m not exactly the easiest person to date. Or the easiest person, period.”

I laugh quietly and tug him closer. "Me neither, love."

Baz smiles all the way to his ears. He kisses me firmly, making my head spin, before pulling me away just as quickly. Our noses stay pressed together. “Suppose we match then, love.”

I throw my arms around his neck. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning. “And you like that?”

“I love it.”

“Me too.” I press against his back, reveling in his warm, smooth skin. “I promise to make more time for you. I want this to work. ”

Baz kisses a mole on my cheek. “So do I. I’m in this for the long haul, Simon.”

“Good, because I’m not letting you go.”

“I would love nothing more.”

I grab Baz’s head and smash our mouths together again. Baz instantly returns it, holding me tight. His body is a warm blanket on top of me, protecting me from anything bad in the world. Yeah, I could spend the rest of my life with Baz. I want that so much. Our snogging gets more intense. And each of us can definitely feel our mutual arousal pressed against our thighs.

Baz pulls off my mouth, but only a little. “What happened to needing to walk tomorrow?”

I shrug with a sly smile. “Eh, who needs walking? You can just carry me everywhere.”

He grins once before kissing me hard. I’m truly a lucky guy. And it’s incredible that Baz thinks the same. I’m living a charmed life.

———————————————

Three months later

“Y’know,” I pant, “you could help.”

Baz looks up from his phone, one eyebrow propped up. “Who carried all your KitchenAid hardware to our new place?”

“Okay, yeah, but that was  down the hall, not up four flights of stairs.” I drop another box of books and breathe heavily.

“That mixer was very heavy.”

“Baz.”

He lets out a very dramatic groan, making a show of hanging his head over the back of Penny’s settee. “Fine. I’ll help.”

I don’t miss the joking glint in his eyes. Arsehole. He just likes making a show of it. He kisses my cheek on the way out. I slap his arse, making him yelp, but his smirk tells me he’s not upset at all.

“Are you two flirting?” Penny calls out from the hall. “I told you, my flat is a flirt free zone!”

“No flirting, Bunce,” Baz says. “Just some light groping on Snow’s part.”

Penny groans so loud I’m pretty sure the whole floor can hear her. She walks in with a box filled with figurines. She glares at me viciously. I throw my hands up in surrender.

“I slapped his arse, didn’t grab it.”

“That’s not much better, Si.” She places the box on the ground and puts her hands on her hips. “Focus more on moving and less on your boyfriend’s arse.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Pen, I’m sorry.” I wrap her up in a tight hug, and she holds me just as close. She’s been doing that a lot lately. I don’t mind. “Y’know, that offer to fly to Chicago and kick Micah’s arse is still on the table.”

That finally makes her laugh. She shakes her head against my chest. “No, it’s alright. I’m mad but not really vengeful. He tried to break up with me, I just wasn’t listening to him.”

“Still not an excuse to start dating someone else.”

“Yeah, I guess," she sniffles. "Thanks for subletting your flat to me."

I kiss the top of her head. "You're very welcome, Pen. Anything for you."

She holds me tighter. I let her hang on to me. It’s the least I can do.

“After all the fuss you made about me helping,” Baz shouts, “now you’re just standing there, Snow? Really?”

I sigh and look up over Penny’s head. Baz is balancing two large boxes because he likes to show off how strong he is. But he’s being helpful, and his strength is hot, so I don’t mind.

“I am comforting my friend,” I say, tone very high and mighty and mocking.

“Yes, but avoiding work must be a plus.”

“Oh, absolutely. And teasing you.”

Penny laughs and pulls back from me, looking at Baz as he puts down the boxes. “As a psychiatrist, you think it says something that even though you’re together now, you two still bicker like in school?”

Baz tilts his head side to side, stroking his chin like a great scholar. “Probably could say something about regressing to old patterns of behaviour from when we were children. But now after time together, working out our issues, and forming better patterns of behaviour, the bickering is now a show of affection rather than true antagonism. Therefore it has transformed into a healthy relationship feature from a bad one. A rare but possible event.”

Penny blinks at him. I’m trying to hide my blush. Don’t really want Penny to know how hot I find Baz being all smart and shit. Still have no idea what he’s talking about, but now I definitely want to rip his clothes off. Penny would kill me though. Murder would not be sexy.

“God,” she chuckles, “you really are a psychiatrist.”

“Yeah he is!” Shepard stumbles in, a box wobbling precariously on his arms. “Either that or he’s a weirdo who enjoys being in a hospital all the time for some reason.” The box tips over. I run up and catch it just in time. “Oh, whoops, sorry.”

“You break it, you suffer Bunce’s wrath, Shep,” Baz says.

“Damn right you do.” Penny walks past him, leveling a look over her glasses. Shepard gulps and watches her as she goes downstairs. And he follows her to help, looking totally out of it.

A pair of familiar arms wrap around my waist. Baz rests his chin on my shoulder. “In my humble psychiatrist opinion, I think our dear American might have a little crush on Bunce.”

I chuckle, cupping his cheek. “I wouldn’t blame him. Pen is pretty awesome.”

“Oh," he says with a teasing lilt, "should I be worried that she’s living down the hall from us now?”

I scoff and roll my eyes like he does at stupid people on telly. “Should  I be worried about you working with Dr. Lamb?”

Baz makes a very unattractive dry heaving sound. “Never. That backstabbing twat can go eat a bag of rusty screws. Only reason I give him the time of day is because he’s got my supervisor wrapped around his stupid finger.”

“And if you piss him off you’ll lose important psychiatry rounds, yes, yes, I know. He’s still gonna try to flirt with you.”

“Yeah, because he’s a twat. But I only want you.” He kisses a mole on my neck, his favourite one. “I love you, Simon.”

I kiss his temple. “I love you too.”

“I love you  so much I’m willing to give up my lovely condo to move into your weird exposed brick hipster building.”

I scoff and turn to him, arms around his slender neck. “Wasn’t it  your idea to move into a bigger place here because it’s closer to both of our workplaces?”

He smiles, kissing the tip of my nose. Bastard. I hated his teasing in school, but he’s right, now it’s out of love. Crazy, stupid, wonderful love. “Since when do you listen to me?”

“You have a good idea every once in a while.”

“How about this one?” He kisses me firmly. When he pulls back a little, my heart is beating rapidly.

“Yeah, I like that one.”

“Good.” We kiss again, soft and slow. Never before have I felt so safe and content kissing someone. Baz can hold me close and make all my worries go away. Part of me still can’t believe I get to have this. A person who adores me completely, including every single weird, flawed, stupid part too. But I have to stop thinking like that. I’m allowed to be happy. I’m allowed to be with someone so incredible. And someone so incredible can absolutely love me back. The work we've both put in to being together shows our mutual care again and again. We deserve to be happy together. It's amazing.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Baz and I pull apart to look at Penny’s glaring face. “We leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re already defiling my apartment?”

“This is still technically Snow’s flat, you know,” Baz says smoothly.

“And you don’t want to know how we’ve already defiled it.” I give the biggest shit eating grin I can.

Penny waves her hands in front of herself. “Nope, nope, I’d rather live in blissful ignorance. Also, Simon," Penny hands me an envelope, "postman came. This is for you. Thought I'd grab it before they accidentally delivered it to me."

I rip it open with ease. Inside is a paper with familiar terrible handwriting. I grin ear to ear. Baz looks over my shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's from Jeremy." I scan down the letter. Luckily I'm adept at deciphering kid writing. "He says he misses me but likes his aunt's place a lot. They garden a lot and he's playing football on a community team.:

"All sound great," Penny says, having moved to the shoulder not occupied by Baz.

"Yeah, definitely. Oh, and he's got a new kitten. And guess what he named him?"

"What?" Penny and Baz say at the same time. It's pretty hilarious but I keep myself from laughing to avoid any glares.

"Snow." I hold up a Polaroid picture of a grinning Jeremy holding a small, fluffy white cat. Both of them can't help but make awing noises.

"Adorable," Baz says. "You did a good job with that kid, Snow."

I kiss his cheek. "Thanks, love."

"I want a cat," Penny sighs. Her nose scrunches up. "Am I going to turn into a crazy cat lady?"

"Hey," I say, "you were the one who told me that was a sexist stereotype. So no, you're going to be a very sane, wonderful, brilliant cat lady." I lean closer, whispering in her ear. "And maybe, once you feel better, you can try talking to a certain American. I think he's got a thing for you."

Penny sticks her tongue out, but before she can respond, Shepard comes stumbling in with a box of china. He places it very carefully. I can see him not so subtly watching Penny out of the corner of his eye. I don't think he wants to piss her off again. “Okay, I think that’s all of it. Wow, a lot of books. Reminds me of my Mom's office back in Omaha.”

"So I remind you of your mum?" Penny asks, arms crossed over her chest. Shepard's eyes go wide. I snort into Baz's shoulder

"No! No, definitely not, I just mean...you're both super smart."

Penny scoffs. "Good answer, American. Now let's get all my books unpacked."

I groan loudly. “Come on, Pen, not today. Why don’t we go to mine and Baz’s flat and we’ll make you dinner?”

“You mean I’ll be making dinner.” Baz raises his eyebrow at me. “You can’t cook, Simon.”

“I’ve been learning!”

He sighs over dramatically. “Very well. You can chop the onions.”

“I’ll take it.” I put my arm on Penny’s shoulders. She leans into me like always. “Come on, let’s eat.”

“Can I come?” Shepard asks, beaming wide. Who could say no to that face?

“Of course! You deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

“Awesome!” He dashes up beside Pen, looking all cute. And I can see Penny smiling, just a little. I’m glad to see her happy.

I put Jeremy's letter in my pocket. It's going right on the fridge the second we get to mine and Baz’s new place. Baz takes my hand in his, weaving our fingers together. He smiles, looking at me from the corner of his eye. I feel like I could fly on the power of love alone right now.

God, I truly have an amazing life.

———————————————

Awwww stupidly in love, just how I like it. Tbh I started writing this before Wayward So came out, and after I decided I wanted to deal with their communication issues like in the book but resolve them. I'm not throwing shade, just stating an opinion, plz don't kill me lol. But I do hope you all liked it! I never planned on writing a sequel but sometimes shit works out like that. I do have another idea for a short one shot but don't hold me to that, life is pretty nuts rn and I don't have a lot of free time, hence why this took me so long. Anyway, have a good day/night y'all!

[missorgana]

interrupt me

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2502

warning: swearing

summary: Finn wants Poe to be his boyfriend, so badly, it's sort of unbelievable he hasn't asked him already. But he doesn't know how. (high school AU)

(finnpoe week 2020 is here yall!!! so excited for my baby event tbh. annddd here’s my first fic for it, i chose high school au bcus well im cheesy ok. if u want to enter finnpoe week with me you can check out the event blog and my post here!! hope you enjoy this fluffy mess!)

read on ao3

“So?”

When Finn realises this is the only greeting he’s getting from his best friend, he gives her a semi-awkward chuckle, as he always does when he can’t quite figure out what she’s on about.

Very much not the first time.

“So… what?”

And she raises her eyebrows in an offended look.

Offended in the only way Rey can be, because she’s never seriously been mad at him, mind you.

“I can’t believe you.” she simply tells him, opening her locker in the process.

Okay, maybe Finn has an idea of what’s frustrating her. After all, she texted him about it last night. A text he was keen to avoid at that time.

“I got your text, I swear-”

“And you didn’t respond because of the reason I suspect?”

Man, Rey really should be a psychic or something. Kind of freaky how she’s always two steps ahead of him.

Her annoyance did fade slightly when Finn let his defeat show.

“I know, I promised you.” and he tells her while shoving the chemistry book down in his bag, the bell interrupting before he continues, “But, I, uh. It just wasn’t the right time, okay?”

Rey’s shoulders are still tense, she huffs, but ultimately shrugs.

“You also said that after your last three dates, you know.”

He does know. Yes, he knows too well.

Long story short, Finn’s been going out with Poe for nearly three months now. Exactly, pretty Poe, the prettiest person ever in the entire world, probably.

The boy who asked him out after many history lessons of looking at each other in secret, and talks of doing homework together that only resulted in giggling and gushing about Hozier.

Well, Rey thinks it’s about time they became official. Like, officially a couple.

She does this because she loves Finn, and she loves them, and yes, he wants Poe to be his boyfriend, so badly, it’s sort of unbelievable he hasn’t asked him already.

But see, he doesn’t know how.

Or of course, he knows the words, but it’s like, whenever he’s with Poe, his mind implodes and revels in whatever they’re doing, and at the end of the day, he’s none the wiser.

They’re on the way to class, and they’re gonna be late either way, so Finn asks his best friend, “I know. But, you know, what if… I mean, what if he doesn’t want to?”

Rey still looks at him in all her stubbornness, but rubs her shoulder, clearly sensing his worry.

His worry goes deep, because yes, they’ve been going out for three months, but, you know, Poe’s like the star of this school. Star of the student council, if anything.

Finn just can’t help doubting himself. Wondering, Poe’s too good for him, or maybe, Poe hasn’t asked him because what they have, what made him ask out Finn isn’t there for him anymore.

He hopes none of that is the case. But he’s always had a habit of overthinking.

“I love you.” she tells him, a certainty in her voice, tugging on his arm just a bit so they won’t be in real trouble with Ms. Holdo, “And he’s so lost in you. I know it’s scary, but he isn’t asking, and if you don’t ask, nothing’s gonna happen.”

She’s right. So right.

So he links their arms and runs down the hall, figuring it speaks louder than words.

…

Finn finds himself thinking a lot.

This isn’t exactly unusual, but, you know, sometimes he overthinks.

Seriously, he knows he needs to ask Poe already.

But his concerns aren’t crazy, okay?

He’s actually already met Poe’s mom, last month, albeit it wasn’t planned. It was maybe too fast. They’re going fast. Or what?

Rey’s assured him enough times now that three months is a perfectly healthy time to become an item, or whatever you call it.

It’s not like they’re popular. Poe’s got a bit of hype, but he’s not at the top of the food chain.

And you know, reputation isn’t all that matters.

Or he tries to tell himself that, because what if it is to Poe?

Before his best friend made him promise to make the move, as she calls it, she was visibly upset, perhaps more than himself, when the other boy hadn’t asked him first.

Maybe he’s just as nervous as Finn. Like, it’s valid, right?

But also, Poe’s been in a couple of relationships before, and yes, that might not sound like much, but Finn’s never been serious with anyone prior to this.

And he didn’t really think it would bother him until now, where Finn ponders his inexperience, and might be edging towards a mental breakdown in the middle of the history lesson, when said boy on his mind touches his hand under the table.

Yes, Rey was only bitter for a few days when the boys started sitting together, “leaving her behind”, as she called it. But she doesn’t really mind now that Rose transferred, he’s sure.

Finn always thinks Poe wants to borrow a pencil when he touches his hand, or has a question, or something mundane.

But he might be getting used to Poe reaching out just for the sake of the touch, sooner or later.

Only the other boy whispers when Ms. Holdo has her back turned, “You okay?”

Oh, so he can tell. That’s great.

No, really, it’s great, because this boy’s so empathetic, when he’s not fiercely protective, or sarcastically defensive.

Finn wonders if he’s thinking of the same thing.

He actually got started on a question last time, some form of it, anyway, but they were not so generously interrupted by some of Poe’s friends, Jess and Snap, he’s pretty sure. That scared him off. Embarrassing, he knows.

Besides, it was like, ten minutes, and Poe seemed just as embarrassed, and they more or less cheered them on. Lovebirds, they called them.

“Ignore them, please.” the other boy told him, like, a million times. He was so cute blushing like that.

If only Finn hadn’t abruptly chickened out when he tried to get the question, instead distracting Poe with whatever he saw first, which, very fitting, was ice cream.

Man, the other boy eats so much ice cream, he has to admit he’s slightly worried about his health.

He’s got a lot of things to worry about, huh.

“Of course I am.” he whispers back, and fuck, he’s just barely caught when Ms. Holdo turns around, and he’s got this feeling like Poe doesn’t believe him, but the conversation’s over like that.

The boy’s smile is a reassurance. A little bit, at least.

…

Is he avoiding Poe? Or is Poe avoiding him?

Finn doesn’t really know, to be honest.

They haven’t seen each other in, what, four days now, because he’s letting his head get the best of him, and he declined the boy’s offer to accompany him for the football game, instead having another nerve wracking conversation, filled with possible ways his crush could call them off.

Rey probably thinks he’s overdramatic, but she doesn’t say, and spends a good two hours calming him down, because she’s lovely.

It isn’t just a crush anymore, Finn realises.

God, he likes him, so much.

And on their last date, it started raining, like in every cheesy teen movie ever, and when he couldn’t hide that he was freezing, Poe, of course, gave him his jacket.

It’s just too much.

Not long after his phone call with Rey, his roommate returns from the game, and Rose tells him that Poe missed him.

Does that make him feel good or bad?

They text a lot.

Like, late into the night a lot, to a point where his sleep schedule might’ve gone for the worse. He’ll restore it sooner or later.

Anyway, Poe seemed like he had something on his mind yesterday. At least, he was taking a while to answer, and usually, his texts keep flying almost a second after Finn’s replied.

But whatever he felt coming never came. The other boy had to go, that is, and Finn thought, maybe this time, he’ll ask.

Or maybe he was looking for a sensitive way to break up. Shit. He wouldn’t break up with him via text, though, surely? Poe’s respectable. He’s got manners.

Or maybe the world just doesn’t want them to communicate anymore, ever, and will just continue to interrupt them, which is rude and totally unfair.

Even at the library this guy, honestly, he can’t remember the name for his life, but this guy had some issue with a suggestion of Poe’s in the council, which he apparently felt the need to bring up then.

The curly haired boy in front of him gave an, “I’m kind of busy, right now.” three times before the other student, finally, minded his own business.

Maybe Poe thinks Finn doesn’t want him around him anymore after avoiding him. Why does he do this?

He hates conflict. It can die in a pit.

Even though it isn’t a conflict, like his best friend so wisely told him, maybe he’s just a bit stupid, or maybe his worst nightmare is true and Poe doesn’t want anything serious.

His head feels like it might explode.

The girl discarding her shoes shoots him a weird look.

Of course, she can tell he’s nervous, just as much as Rey, or probably anyone else, at this point, but Rose has developed a sense of knowing when Finn needs to be left alone.

So, she brews them both tea and lays down with her headphones on, but not before handing him something cold and metal, which turns out to be a pin.

It’s a tiny yellow sun.

Finn doesn’t have to ask who it’s from, or who he’s hoping it’s from, anyway, because the boy is so utterly cheesy that he’s compared him to sunshine on more than one occasion.

Even more cheesy that Poe got him a gift relating to a stupid nickname. But also, he loves it. Loves it a little too much.

It’s ridiculous.

So he’ll opt to sleep now, tugging Poe’s jacket a bit tighter around him.

…

Poe’s suggested to skip school today, and Rey swears she’ll nag Finn to no end if he doesn’t go along, so here he is.

Of course this boy wants to get ice cream.

And of course he knows a perfect place, as he says, which, surprisingly, is a junkyard filled with old cars, which Finn sees little wrong with.

He’s pretty sure the rich people in this stupid town probably discard these for the newest model. Poe laughs and agrees when he voices his thought.

When they’re side by side on a blue Corvette hood, ice cream and marshmallows long gone, it’s silent, except the other boy’s humming.

Maybe this is the right time. Or the worst time. Wait, he can’t think like that, he should listen to Rey.

Finn might as well get it over with, if the worst case scenario is really gonna happen, right?

And so he decides to open his mouth with his thought along with him, only Poe does the same, and there’s a small cluster of “Hey-”s and “Oh-”s and “Sorry”s.

So maybe the boy has decided to end it on a good note, like a goodbye date.

Could be worse, right?

“I was thinking, uh…” Poe begins, but it doesn’t seem to end, and Finn nods him along, and sits up straighter, maybe it’ll be easier to bite the emotion in him like that.

“Yeah?”

The boy chuckles at himself.

It’s like he doesn’t want to look at him, cause he’s keeping his eyes on his lap, but then, gaze turning towards Finn again and biting his lip.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

And Finn’s ready to deflect, to shrug off the hurt, get up and leave, when, holy shit, what did he just say?

Exactly the thing he wants him to say? Exactly the thing he wants to say? Unbelievable.

He’s got to have a few seconds to process that. Which is probably what makes Poe freak out, because he’s suddenly, almost, taking the words back, “If you think it’s too fast I understand, I-”

“No!” he exclaims. A bit louder than he wanted, alright, good thing this yard’s practically abandoned.

“No, Poe, I really want that. Like, oh my god.”

“Really?”

The nods are eager, and Poe’s smiling so much brighter now. Finn can barely hold himself from copying it.

“But seriously, I thought you’d break up, or I mean, stop our dates or something.”

Now that offended look is familiar, has Poe been spending time with Rey? Could fool him, at least.

He almost gasps, which reminds Finn how truly ridiculous he is, when he’s not keeping up his status in debate.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, and yes, is the answer, and Finn can’t help feeling bad, so he tries to make it better by touching his hand, the same way the other boy’s got the habit to in class.

“Yeah, I mean, I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough.”

Now Poe looks distraught, like Finn told him a puppy died or something, and Finn wants to shrug it off, but the boy meets his lips before he gets the chance.

Okay, he would call this a rude interruption, if he didn’t like this so much. He’ll let it slide, just this once.

“Who put that idea into your head?” Poe says, like he’s already out of breath, it’s adorable, “You’re, like, God. Too good to be true.”

And instead of answering Finn continues this cycle of kissing his boyfriend’s lips and cheek and neck, really, they’re a lot better at this than talking.

It’s so much nicer than talking too, but Poe has to finish his sentence, he assumes, “I would’ve asked sooner, you know. But I feel like everyone keeps interrupting us lately.”

It’s like their minds are one, Finn’s sure Rey’s gonna roll her eyes at them after this.

He almost can’t speak when they’re both laughing, and Poe’s touching his face, now, that’s what’ll take up his mind, “Me too.”

Honestly, Finn would let the boy say more, if he wasn’t his boyfriend now, right, so when Poe is starting on a rant of those exact problems, there’s really no other choice than direct him away from the negativity and back to kissing him again, because he loves his voice, but that’s just about enough talking now, he thinks.

“Boyfriend?” and of course, Poe laughs again at that, tipping his head back, but quick to turn his gaze back, because every quirk just makes him even more pretty.

“Yes?”

And he replies, “Can I interrupt you, though?”, not even waiting for an answer before he’s pulling him in for the millionth kiss, it seems, cupping his neck and tugging on his hair.

It’s impossible that Poe can smile even wider, surely, but he does.

“I guess I’ll allow it.”

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

I love badboy!harry but he’s only soft for y/n like fuuuck

“Fucking son of a bitch,” he growls, his furious, electric green eyes skimming over the disgusting, drunken brute he’s got a hold of by the collar. Lazy apologies frantically slip out of the man’s mouth, a laugh slipping at the end as he raises his arms up in defence.

“Hey, bro, it’s not my fault! She didn’t even tell me she had a boyfriend. And that little dress she’s wearing... You sure she wasn’t enjoying it?”

Crack

The sound of a nose cracking was evident within the bar, the volume and violence associated with the gesture silencing the heaps of college students inside of the club. All eyes were on Harry Styles, the football star and quarterback, usually a mystery to the rest of the student body. The most anyone ever got out of him was a sneer or lazy acknowledgement. The girls always twirled stands of their hair in between their fingers at the sight of his curly, dark locks and the boys couldn’t help but give him an obvious onceover every time he walked into the room.

He was madly popular for his attitude, silent, deadly, and admittedly equally, madly attractive. Harry Styles was always ready with a snappy comeback or a glare given from the simple flash of his intelligent eyes, clad in a leather jacket that fight almost too right, perfectly slicked back, thick thatches of hair, and a smirk. Throwing punches wasn’t anything new for the bad boy and his group of misfits, but this was new.

He was angry in a way they’d never seen Harry angry— it was as if his eyes were dimmed with lava and his silence spoke volumes more than the disdain dripping from his cherry lips, his clenched teeth gritting hard enough to shake the entirety of the campus.

And for what?

A girl, it seemed.

“Fucking bastard,” Harry spat onto the offending man’s grimy face, his long, calloused fingers coming back bloody. He kicked him away afterwards, huffing at the moans and cries the prick howled. Just about to kick his ribs, Harry growled when Niall Horan pulled him back, keeping a strong grip on his struggling arms.

“It’s not worth it. Stop, Styles,” Niall warned.

“Let. Me. Go, Niall,” he spoke between gritted teeth.

“Y/N will wear whatever she wants wherever she wants, whenever she wants, and if you do so much as think about her I will tear off every muscle in your pathetic little body,” Harry hissed at the bloody heap on the floor, his volume gradually increasing into a roar.

Breaking free from the Irish gang member’s grip, Harry formed his fingers into a fist before pounding them into the disgusting bastard’s body again, hearing every crack fizzle into satisfaction. He kicked at each rib and tore at whatever flesh his hands could grope and pinch. Blood flowed down his face once the man beneath him gained enough consciousness to bust Harry’s lips.

He was seeing red, kicking at every inch of the man that had even attempted to hurt his girl. Brief moments where he could hear alarmed screams and shouts of ‘Harry, campus security!’ from Niall and Zayn were unimportant. He was seeing anger and the need to do her right.

A small cry in the midst of everything shattered the red.

“Harry, stop. Stop,” y/n pleaded, her soft, quiet voice breaking with every punch he sent flying.

Fuck, Harry cussed internally. She sounded afraid. She was afraid.

When he looks back at her, she’s shaking, tears threatening to spill from her wide, doe eyes and her lips wobbling in that way they do when she’s upset. Her fingers are fiddling nervously and her eyes are disappointed and sad.

They were supposed to go on a date after this. We’re only supposed to stay at the club for ten minutes to catch up with some friends for a while, then go to that fancy French restaurant y/n’s eyes always glaze over when she’s reading the Yelp reviews on it, but she refuses to let herself splurge on a college student budget.

She’s been stressing herself out, isolating herself with nothing but papers and small dormitories while chanting her Anatomy and Physics notes as if they’re some hazing ritual sent by a cult instead of preparation for finals. Her sleep schedule is off and the only times Harry can see her or force her to consume something other than coffee and energy bars (and maybe get her to take a shower) is when she’s huddled in some corner in the library.

So, he tells her to keep this day available and reserved the best table at the restaurant. It was no problem. Harry came from wealth, and besides, none of that matters with y/n. She saw him in a way no one else ever had or ever would. y/n treated him gently, treated him as if he were everything to her and saw him as someone she could trust with every intelligent, insightful thought and every emotion she had ever felt.

And he’s so careful with her, determined to keep away from that bad boy facade. Although it felt confusing at first to let his guard down in front of this beautiful, sweet girl he’d met in his Philosophy class, slowly it became easier and it freed him, somehow. Even Niall and Zayn to a liking to y/n. It was impossible to reject her.

His eyes nearly burnt into ashes once he saw her in that dress she never wears. She looked so pretty and his heart beat was so wild and erratic he hoped she couldn’t hear it already. Her lips were painted red and her eyes held the sky. It was everything.

But then some bastard had the nerve to touch her and make her feel uncomfortable even after y/n clearly stated she was with someone and even if she weren’t, she didn’t want him in her space. From that point, Harry had lost the control he’d so carefully preserved. He couldn’t stand anyone being treated like that.

She was afraid now. Trying so hard to keep it together when the seams were so close to falling apart and failing. The tears came down her sad, pretty face in streams she shyly tried to hide behind her thick locks of hair. y/n looked utterly terrified, and as he licked at the wounds on his torn lip, Harry couldn’t blame her.

“What are you all looking at,” he barked, his eyes dark and blank once more, the bar suddenly colder as some people grabbed the offensive bastard off of the floor and everyone was forced to return to partying and getting drunk, although their thoughts and interest was somewhere else. He knew she didn’t like that much attention.

She leaves the bar, and he follows. The sky is black and the white streetlights reflect in the light, drizzling rain pouring from the sky. The road is empty, the dark path shining with water.

“y/n...” Harry trails off, unsure of where to begin and not accustomed to feeling this way about anyone. His eyes snap upto her figure once she turns away from him, beginning to walk away.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she whispers, eyes downturned and shining with tears. “I don’t wanna go to the restaurant anymore. I hafta go.”

“y/n, wait,” he’s desperate, narrowing his eyes slightly as the rain pours over them, latching his hand onto her wrist lightly after circling it. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She doesn’t expect him to keep her from walking away and the tears come down, little gasps escaping her chest.

“Oh, baby, please don’t cry. Don’t cry, please. Can’t handle it,” he pleads, his own emotions festering inside of his chest in complicated motions. She doesn’t fight it when he pulls her into his chest, warm tears leaking from her pretty, sad irises and through the fabric of his shirt.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t want to do anything bad, swear,” Harry hiccuped, his own hard exterior crumbling as his eyes grew wide and frantic, brimming with moisture. “Didn’t want to make you sad, y/n. I swear I was just trying to make him go away, because he invaded your privacy. I’m not bad. Am I? I’m trying not to and-“

“Harry, stop. I’m not mad,” y/n mumbles. “I just come from a family and circle of friends who didn’t ever bother to care for me. I just didn’t expect you to step in when no one else ever has.”

Something in Harry’s electric green eyes intensifies as he gazes attentively down at y/n, his jaw clenching and his chest throbbing with both sadness and contentment that they would be the only ones to look after each other.

Harry grabs her as she turns to leave, pulling her closer to him despite her widened doe eyes and breathlessness. The intensity in his eyes silences all argument or notion to flee. His eyes lock onto hers, moments before his large, calloused hands lift to cup at her tightened jaw.

He kisses her.

Soft is the first thing Y/N thinks of at her first taste of his mouth, moving in sync with hers. Soft when everything about this, them has been so hard. She swears she’s never met someone like him- someone with such granite for temperament to the outside world, but such a complex when it came to himself. His cherry lips are just right and his mouth covers hers almost tentatively, a test and a challenge. and she shivers, teetering within his hold and almost losing balance from the sheer intensity and silent emotion expressed from his lips on hers. Paying no mind to every difference and every hardship they’d ever crossed and would ever, she throws her arms around his broad shoulders and clutches onto him for dear life, and the guttural moan which escapes from the back of his throat is enough for her to clasp her hand onto the back of his neck, scratching slightly against his scalp through his silky curls. It’s enough for her to lose all sense of control. She thrusts her chest sleek against his, and kisses him hard.

y/n is glued to harry as if he’s everything she needs to survive and he does the same.

The hot, summer rain is thrumming down their backs and the night seems to stop just for them- capturing this moment. The stages are set, the emotions feel right, and this moment is theirs and only theirs, and who can take it away from them?

So, they kiss.

Two people from two different worlds, connected solely by understanding each other in ways the world never could. Their teeth clash against each other and the electricity in his eyes is now coursing throughout her body. His lips transmit liquid fire and the heat is what she yearns for. Her hot palms keep him close and they’ve never felt this way before.

She’s the first one to pull away, gasping as her lungs painfully attempt to inhale the cool, night air. Her wild eyes flicker from his swollen lips to his equally flustered eyes, messy curls, and the faint hint of warmth in his cheeks and she wonders how she must look.

“I don’t care about what they say,” she breathes in desperation, “I don’t care about what they say.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice raspy, but charming all the while. It’s playful and so him. His eyes glitter with an emotion she can’t quite figure out yet, but it’s warm and safe and wonderful, so she snuggles into his warm chest some more, muttering a ‘yeah’ and sighing as the rain pounds down on her back.

She can hear the slight smirk in his deep voice, but also the vulnerability and promise when he rests his warm lips on the somewhat wet surface on the hollow of her throat and mumbles:

“Me neither, princess.”

MASTERLIST