#i have to attend this seminar so this will be next semester (he was like 'you could have done it this semester' and i was just

[lily-blue]

13 reasons why | reason no.7: their iced coffee can mend a broken heart

☆ characters: manager!wonwoo & teacher assistant!you (Yuri - ‘98 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, angst, fluff ☆ summary: after your boyfriend breaks up with you in public, you tell yourself you aren’t ready for another relationship; however, Wonwoo is willing to wait until you are ☆ words: 9,1k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town​ ♥ for proofreading this chapter; i appreciate you a lot, i hope you know it ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois​

➼ chapter index

Getting a chance to challenge yourself as a teacher assistant had always been the plan. It was an amazing teaching experience at a prestigious university that you would have been a fool to decline even if you would have liked to work with high schoolers in the future. Many of your students were barely out of high school anyway, the memory of CSATs struggles still vivid in their mind. It was as good of an opportunity as you could get without working experience and you had always liked being a busy bee anyway.

You didn’t mind when you needed to answer ridiculous questions in and outside of class. You never complained when you had to grade assignments on top of submitting your own papers. A part of you actually liked giving detailed, written feedback to freshmen because it was always harder to guide them in person despite your seniority. You might have been confident in what you knew and had learned through the years, but the lingering awkwardness before speaking to someone for the first time often made you insecure. You needed a fair amount of time to get used to people.

Drumming on the hard surface of your old phone’s screen, you counted the seconds until the subway’s door opened and you could finally ran towards the café where your boyfriend was waiting for you. Joon had called you a few minutes past your lunch break, so you had been already teaching Creative Writing to a smaller group of students at your favourite seminar that semester, but luckily, you had time to read his messages while you had been waiting in line in front of your professor’s office for next week’s exam papers, hence all were good. You had agreed to meet at a coffee shop halfway between his workplace and the university, then promised him that you would be quick.

Relatively speaking, it shouldn’t have taken longer than ten more minutes. You had been the next one in line, you had only needed to pick up the papers and go, but professor Byeon had been adamant to tell you about the teaching opportunity at the high school where her son was attending and you couldn’t have left until you had gotten every possible contact information and instruction you might have needed to apply for the job. It was your dream job after all and she had willingly offered to write you a recommendation letter.

You were out of breath by the time you pushed the double doors open and you almost crashed into someone close to the entrance of Coffee Carat when you rushed inside without knowing where exactly your boyfriend was sitting.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologised, but the gesture was also rushed; you didn’t even look the person in the eyes, too busy to scan the shop’s customer area.

Joon was chuckling when your gaze fell on his figure, but he didn’t laugh at your dishevelled appearance as he usually would have done with endearment written all over his face. Instead, he was staring at his phone. The sight pulled the corners of your mouth upwards. You wondered whether he was still playing with the same game he had shown you two weeks ago or he had already found another one he could have obsessed over.

Since you couldn’t see any drinks or pastries on the table in front of your boyfriend, you decided to surprise him for being so patient and understanding; thus, you walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of espresso for him with sugar and milk, two pieces of chocolate shortcake, and an iced coffee for yourself. It might have been late October already, but the cold weather never urged you to opt for something warmer.

‘I am so sorry, miss. Our freezer is currently out of order, but our manager is already on it. In the meantime, I can make you any other drink on the menu for the same price or if it is not a huge inconvenience, I can prepare your drink when hyung is back with the ice. In case of the latter, it is obviously on the house,’ the barista informed you politely with an apologetic smile and you stole a glance at Joon before you made a decision.

‘It’s fine. I can wait for it,’ you reassured him a bit clumsily, telling him where you would sit, so he could find you easier later.

Although the kind barista - Seokmin as his nametag suggested - offered a helping hand with the goods you had ordered, you told him you could manage and you really did. You lifted up the packed tray with ease and carried it to your table without any mishaps.

‘I’m sorry it took me so long,’ you started as soon as you took a seat across from Joon, even before you took off your coat. You didn’t intend to take his support for granted, not like how your mom had done to your father before he had left, so you always made sure to apologise first when something like this happened.

‘It’s not like it’s surprising anymore, is it?’ Your boyfriend retorted with a chuckle, making you frown with his comment, although you were aware you deserved it. The two of you had gotten together in January and you had made a habit of being late from dates and skipping on them altogether because of your other responsibilities. The only reason you could still show your face around him and his friends was that you knew you genuinely tried your hardest to be present in your relationship.

And he appreciated you for it just as much as you appreciated him for not giving up on you.

‘Okay, I admit that, but this time, I promise I have a really good reason for being late,’ you claimed while you reached out for one of the shortcakes and placed it in front of you on the table. You picked up a fork and sliced a small bite off it so that you could try it moderately. You didn’t want to make the same mistake you had made at the restaurant where you had gone with Joon on your 100th day: it had been a fancy place in Gangnam, but you had almost choked on their cheesecake, it had been that dry.

‘You always have a good reason for it,’ your boyfriend reminded you, his teasing wording as familiar as the furrow between his brows lately. He was right, though. You would have never made him wait without a good reason: whenever it happened, you were convinced that you either had a slightly more important task to finish or something you couldn’t have missed out on.

‘It’s true, but this time, it’s huge! You won’t believe i–’

‘I think it’s enough,’ Joon claimed, his voice lacking the warmth it always held when he was talking to you. The way he was looking at you now rendered you immobile; the fork in your hand trembled a bit before it came to a clumsy halt in front of your lips.

‘What?’

Your first thought was that Joon had had one of those awful days at work. It happened rarely, but when his sunbae gave him too much extra work or criticised his performance too harshly, he couldn’t bear other people’s happiness. Their achievements and excitement only upsetted him more and made him say things he wouldn’t have said otherwise.

‘We should break up. No… we need to break up,’ your boyfriend stumbled over his words in order to find the most suitable ones that wouldn’t have left any space for misunderstandings. One glance at his hardened features made it obvious that he didn’t want you to cling onto him and whine. He had the same look in his eyes when he had scolded you in front of his friends for being too excited about the movie you had been about to watch in the cinema and when he had told you how to behave around his family members before he had introduced you to his parents. ‘Look, I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being someone’s second, third and fourth choice when I should be their one and only,’ he explained and your throat closed up while you were listening.

‘I…’ hadn’t meant to make you feel that way; this was what you wanted to tell Joon, but the words refused to come out of your mouth.

‘I’m leaving then. I’ve already packed your things, you can pick them up whenever you have some spare time, but I would prefer it if you didn’t come over unannounced.’ Your eyes were brimming with tears, but you tried your best to not let them run down your cheeks. You didn’t want to make a scene in public; you hated how he was doing this to you in public. ‘Could you give your keys back now? My landlord wouldn’t want anyone to copy them and…’

At that point, your brain got too overwhelmed to comprehend what he was saying. Not that it really mattered whether he wanted you to give those keys back because he truly believed you would have broken into his apartment when you two weren’t in a relationship anymore or it was his landlord’s request for safety reasons. Because at the end of the day, you had no right to have them in your possession anymore, anyway.

You swallowed the itchy knot in your throat, but it came back again by the time you grabbed your bag and found the requested item in the middle of the chaos. You loved your tote bag a lot, it had cute cats painted on the harsh canvas on both sides and you had bought it on sale in your freshman year, but it didn’t help much in situations like this: when your nerves made it hard to do anything efficiently.

‘Here,’ you mumbled, resisting the urge to smash the keychain against the table. That would have only drawn more attention to you and a part of you had already felt like everyone was giving you the side glances and judging you for being an awful girlfriend.

You didn’t take your eyes off the half-eaten shortcake on your plate. You couldn’t. If you had done so, you would have most probably started to wail because of how utterly miserable you felt while Joon had walked out on you so easily. You didn’t understand how you could have been so ignorant of the signs. Since there must have been signs. No one broke up with their partner of one year on a whim. Your behaviour must have been bugging your boyfriend for a while by the time he had come to this decision.

It didn’t take too much time: in a matter of mere seconds, you were already drowning in your own self-blame and self-hatred. If you had been a better girlfriend, your ex wouldn’t have felt the need to part ways with you in a coffee shop. He would have taken you to a private place and let you cry on his shoulder before he said goodbye.

You were pulled back to reality when someone put a glass of iced coffee on your table and your blurry eyes fell on an equally blurry man with rounded glasses.

‘Here, your iced coffee, miss. I am so sorry for the wait,’ the man said and while it must have been unintentional, his words broke something in you.

You were an ugly crier. There was not a single person you knew who would have claimed the opposite when your shoulders were shaking rhythmically, your cheeks turned red and puffy, and your tears got into your mouth along with your snot. When you cried, you cried like a child who felt like their life was about to end and maybe you actually felt the same way each and every time it happened. You definitely felt that way when the stranger turned his back on you, then turned back towards you twice within a minute.

‘Do you not want your iced coffee anymore?’ The man asked, his question barely registering in your mind until he wrapped his fingers around the glass and took it in his hand again.

If you had been in the right state of mind, you would have realised that you had never paid for your drink and that you were acting ridiculous when you reached out for it nevertheless, but at that moment, you couldn’t think rationally. Your emotions took control of your actions and your lips trembled in distress before you could have done anything about it.

‘Or… you want it. Of course, you do,’ the man mumbled as he put the drink back on the table and slid it right in front of you.

You observed his movements with mesmerism; your wailing quieted down and turned into a soundless sobbing that still shook your body, but not as intensely as it had done before. You pulled the glass closer to yourself and took a tentative sip from the most delicious chocolate coffee you had ever tried.

The awkwardness was palpable. You kind of felt sorry for the waiter who was still standing by your table when you eventually cleared your throat and wiped the tears off your cheeks with the back of your hand.

‘I am so sorry,’ the man mumbled, who looked a lot younger now that you could see him for yourself with a clearer vision. You had never been too good at guessing other people’s age, but at first glance, you would have said that he couldn’t have been that much older than you. Which made you feel weird when you tried to refer to him as a man in your head.

You couldn’t have helped but giggle at how absurd of a turn your train of thoughts had taken. Especially because it reminded you of the very same open lecture that had made you choose journalism as your major.

‘Are you… Is everything alright?’ The boy asked and you shook your head despite showing him one of your softest smiles. 

‘I’m having a rough day,’ you admitted before you took another sip from your cold drink and willed yourself to focus on your shortcake instead of looking around in the customer area. It would have done you no good if you had seen anyone staring at you with pity or laughing at something completely unrelatable just for your brain to convince you that everyone was as fixated on your misfortune as you were on other people’s opinion. 

‘If I said something–’

‘You didn’t. I mean, it’s not just that. I…’ you stirred your drink with the paper straw you had gotten with your coffee, then shifted your gaze from the floating ice cubes to the boy. ‘It’s not your fault.’

You weren’t good with strangers; you weren’t too good at reading your loved ones’ feelings and thoughts, either. You wondered whether the same went for this waiter, too, who opened and closed his mouth multiple times just to leave you wondering and swallow back his words in the end.

‘Thank you for the co–’

‘Hyung!’ The same barista who had informed you about the broken freezer cut you off, his firm voice urging your company to span his head towards the counter as though he knew the younger boy was calling for him. Maybe, he did. You couldn’t have been sure how many of the working employees were older than the smiley barista or how many of them worked that day to begin with. Most customers didn’t pay attention to these kinds of details and you definitely weren’t an exception.

‘They need me,’ the boy said in an apologetic manner as though he owed you anything when he obviously didn’t. If anyone, you were the one who should have done something for him for acting so non-judgemental when he had seen you going through a mild mental breakdown in the middle of their coffee shop.

‘Thank you for the coffee,’ you decided to say, since what else could you have told him? It was obvious that they needed him. You could have heard when the barista had called for him. It felt like it would have been super embarrassing if you had repeated the obvious. Especially because based on how loudly and urgently the younger boy had screamed, everyone with ears was aware that something wasn’t quite alright at the counter.

‘My name is Wonwoo,’ the boy blurted out, but before your brain could have processed what he meant by that or given your name to him in exchange, he turned his back to you and power walked to the quickly accumulating crowd around his coworker.

You didn’t keep your eyes on him. You weren’t super curious about the drama, either. Thus, you turned back to your food and took a couple of deep breaths. The overwhelming sadness that stressed your chest was still there, your lips still trembled here and there due to certain bittersweet memories, but the longer you were at the coffee shop, the less you thought it was all your fault.

You were obviously aware that your break-up was more on you than on Joon, though. But he could have shared his concerns and worries with you sooner, when you could have still been able to work on your problems together.

You might have planned to spend the rest of the day with your boyfriend to make up for your late arrival - which meant you could have gone a night without checking the questionnaire for professor Byeon -, but you didn’t stay long in the shop. You packed your things after you finished your drink and decided to carry the tray back to the counter, so that you could have told the barista that no one touched the second shortcake. It was delicious, the chocolate between the layers melted in your mouth while the whipped cream on the top complemented its subtle bitterness perfectly, but you had bought it for Joon, hence you couldn’t eat it.

‘Are you sure you do not want me to put it into a paper bag for you, miss? Our bags are all eco-friendly,’ the smiley barista informed you when it was finally your turn in front of the counter, but you just shook your head and fished a few won bills out of your wallet to pay for the iced coffee. ‘It is okay. Like I said, the drink was on the house.’

You blinked up at him, bashful, when the memory came back to you and shot a grateful smile at him before you bid your goodbye.

A part of you might have resented the place because of what Joon had done to you that day, but you knew you would have never been able to hate the employees who worked at Coffee Carat that afternoon thanks to the warmth they planted in your heart with their kindness.

In the following days, you had five midterm exams to study for, a couple of more exams to monitor, and a bunch of exam papers to grade, so your brain barely had any time to rest, let alone ponder over what you could have done differently in your relationship with Joon. Since your ex-boyfriend had been your first serious relationship, your knowledge of heartbreak and how to deal with the pain was strictly based on what you had seen in movies. Yet, other than the most random waves of sadness, you experienced none of the expected extremes. You had a healthy appetite, you didn’t feel the urge to get rid of the gifts he had given you during that one year while you had been together, and you hadn’t thrown your heaviest book at him when you had gone over for your stuff.

Once you had less obligations to fulfil, however, your brain couldn’t stop reminiscing about the afternoon when Joon had pulled the rug from under your feet. At nights, when you were too tired to be productive, but not tired enough to black out, your thoughts kept wandering: you wondered whether your ex would have given you more time to accept his decision if you had chosen a different shortcake for dessert; would he have stayed if you had begged him to? You also couldn’t get rid of the feeling that you should have paid for your iced coffee. Sure, the smiley barista had said it had been on the house because of the inconvenience, but hadn’t you put their waiter in a tough position when you had cried your eyes out in front of him? He had definitely looked uncomfortable when he couldn’t have decided whether you had wanted the coffee or not.

Might it have been because your family had been fairly poor until you had graduated from middle school and your mother’s online business had gone viral, but you didn’t like the idea of freebies. They reminded you of snickering and pity, so you much preferred working for what you had and paying for other people’s food or necessities when you went out with friends and acquaintances. Thus, it only took you a couple of days to come to the conclusion that you needed to pay back at least for the waiter’s kindness for your inner peace to be restored.

The day after the delivery service had dropped your order off at your doorstep, you woke up super early, so that you could leave the package at Coffee Carat anonymously. Your plan was foolproof: all you needed to do was arrive at the shop before any of the employees and hang the plastic bag with Wonwoo’s name on it on the door handle. Even your five-year-old sister could have done it if she had been strong enough to lift the gift above her head. You could almost hear her lisping “easy-peasy” in your ears when you closed your eyes on the bus for those three stops that separated you from the café.

You almost failed, though. 

The plastic bag was already swinging back and forth on the handle, you just wanted to make sure that the handwritten letter on the top of the package was visible, when the smiley barista from that day made your blood run cold with his loud yelp. Your shoulders tensed up as you snapped your head in his direction, then quickly let go of the bag and turned your back to him and his blond friend before your eyes could have met his.

Although your first instinct was to run, you forced yourself to walk at a natural speed since it would have drawn more attention if you had suddenly speedwalked to the closest bus stop, which was actually in the opposite direction. You didn’t have the luxury to take the latter into account. You had to get away from there as soon as possible without getting caught. You just had to get away quickly.

Which you did at the cost of being fifteen minutes late from your meetup with your friend, Xiaoxiao, but the girl had been a sweetheart as always and bought you a chicken-mayo sandwich, too, at the campus convenience store for breakfast, so that you could have spent every crucial minute on your final project that was due by Friday. With your individual, packed schedules, it was a drag to find time for these offline sessions - no wonder the library was practically deserted when you both were available -, but they were a part of the requirement and at least you both took your academic career seriously.

Having yet another strict deadline in your life was also the perfect distraction you needed. So you wasted no time on useless chatters and taking a huge bite from the dry sandwich, you got to work. At that, at least, you were excellent.

On the day of your job interview at the high school professor Byeon had mentioned to you, you decided to give yourself a well-deserved break. Thus, you skipped your Adult Education lecture for your minor and wrote a list about cliche things you had always wanted to do as a university student, but never had the time or energy for.

You started the day off with a veggie smoothie that you made with your own hands, then took a bunch of pictures of it just for fun, too embarrassed to send it to anyone - especially because Xiaoxiao would have wanted one for herself in exchange for her notes (she was a big foodie) and called you out on its terrible taste the moment you gave it to her. That, and your only other option would have been your mom who would have scolded you for wasting your time in the kitchen. She was the type of person who didn’t see much value in being a traditional woman because she had hated her life when she had been forced to live as a housewife despite her husband’s incapability to provide for his family on his own.

Later, you put on warm clothes and searched for an empty bench at a park not so far from the job interview’s location. You wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but you had somehow managed to underestimate the November weather; thus, couldn’t concentrate on the book you had brought with yourself after the second chapter. Still, it was an aesthetic experience you could have finally ticked off your wishlist, so you stayed there until it was time for you to carry your (hopefully) future coworkers off their feet with your enthusiasm.

For lunch, you went to one of those homey diners where the owners knew all of their regulars and chirped their ears off about personal matters when there weren’t a lot of customers in the shop. It was a little overwhelming - very overwhelming to be honest -, but it reminded you of family gatherings when your parents had been still together, so you finished your jjigae in a good mood.

You didn’t plan to stay out all day. You had movies and series to catch up on, youtube videos that had been sitting on your watch-it-later list for months, and a couple of house chores to do since your laundry, for example, was long overdue.

However, when you walked past the coffee shop where your ex-boyfriend had pulled the rug from under your feet a couple of weeks ago, your gaze fell on a familiar blue scarf and a boy with two heavy-looking boxes in his hands, and your steps came to a subconscious halt. You were standing on the opposite side of the road, wondering whether you should have helped him with the door, but the smiley barista was faster. He came to Wonwoo’s help before you could have made up your mind, leaving you hanging in an odd state of mind: should you have gone home? Should you have walked inside?

You weren’t sure you were ready to have an iced coffee at one of their tables yet. And a part of you said you had already repaid the waiter’s kindness when you had bought him that scarf to keep him warm. But a drink to go had never killed anyone, had it? It could have been a nice step forwards on your way of moving on.

Still, your hand was trembling when you pushed the handle downwards and your heart was beating in your throat while you were waiting for your turn in the line. With every tiny step you took forwards, coming inside felt a stupider idea. Yet, you stood your ground. Mostly, because there were already people behind you and it would have been awkward if you had run out of the coffee shop without a plastic cup in your hand.

‘Welcome to Coffee Carat! What can I get for you, miss?’ The polite question pulled you out of your thoughts, eyes growing wide at the realisation that there was no one between you and the counter.

‘I…’ you stuttered before you took a step forward and put yourself together. ‘An iced coffee to go, please,’ you muttered, eager fingers fidgeting with the hem of your coat even after the boy took a plastic cup in his hand, put it on the inox grill, and pushed a button on the huge coffee machine you couldn’t see.

‘You must love iced coffee a lot,’ he commented, but because he didn’t look at you while he was talking, you couldn’t decide whether he was talking to you or talking to himself. Were you expected to say something to that? Did he mean it as a joke? You weren’t sure your sense of humour matched his in case he was waiting for a laugh. ‘I am sorry. It is just, last time…’

‘Oh?’ You let out a surprised sound when his apology reached your ears. Disoriented, you felt a bit bad for making him feel as though he had offended you, when you were just taken aback by the ease he had cracked a joke around you after last time. Considering that you were right and he had tried to be funny. ‘Yeah. I can’t drink too fast and it tastes weird when it starts to get colder, so I just… choose to drink it cold from the beginning,’ you explained sheepishly, a soft smile tugging on the corners of your mouth when he bit into his lower lip and scratched his nape out of embarrassment.

The light tint of his rosy ears was something you could resonate with. Yours turned crimson, too, when you felt like you had said too much.

‘Makes sense,’ Wonwoo concluded quietly and you couldn’t help it, you let out a small huff upon hearing him. You weren’t sure funny was the right word to describe him, but to you, he was amusing. ‘I am not making fun of you. It does sound logical,’ he defended himself while he opened their freezer and filled another plastic cup with ice cubes. You wondered whether he should have done that first or this was the standard way baristas made iced coffees in this coffee shop.

You didn’t ask him how much he remembered from last time or whether he knew it was you who had written him that letter in which you had expressed your gratitude and asked him to stay warm in the chilly weather, but the way he looked at you when he slid the cup towards you on the counter said it all. He could have put two and two together. He was aware that the person to whom he had brought warmth with his consideration wasn’t someone else despite how the iced coffee he had served you that day was rather cold.

You were chewing your cheek out of nervousness when you took a couple of bills out of your wallet even before the boy told you how much you owed him for your coffee.

‘Anything else?’ He asked and you hesitated. It hadn’t been that long that you had eaten, so you obviously weren’t hungry, but these delicious, baked goods at coffee shops were desserts anyway. You could always find some place for dessert.

‘A croissant, please,’ you decided and chose a raspberry croissant with dried raspberry pieces on the top and raspberry-vanilla cream on the inside. You had never tried or seen anything like that before - it had a few dark pink stripes on it beside the usual, golden brown ones as though its dough had been made of raspberry -, but it had caught your eyes the moment you had turned towards their sweets, so you couldn’t resist. You hoped it would be as delicious as their chocolate shortcakes.

You wished it had tasted even better!

‘Here,’ the boy said when he handed you a paper bag with the coffee shop’s logo painted on it, his smile warm and indecipherable while he told you how much your order cost in total.

Your fingers didn’t touch when you took the croissant from him, but you felt as though you had been struck by lightning when your eyes met. It made no sense: the effect his piercing yet soft gaze had on you. So you paid for everything as fast as you could, then shoved the change into your tote bag along with your croissant and bid your goodbye.

It was a matter of sheer luck that you didn’t walk into the double door on your way out, but somehow you managed. You even got back to your student apartment in one piece, without your heart breaking out of your ribcage.

You were sitting on the floor, elbows leaned on the coffee table you used as a dining table due to the lack of space in your home, when you noticed the extra croissant in the paper bag you had gotten for free. It must have been Wonwoo’s way of saying thank you for your gift, it had to be, but in a way, it was what started it all: the neverending saga of small smiles, bashful conversations, and thoughtful presents you surprised each other with to repay for something both of you thought was basic human decency on your own part.

It was on the third day of winter break that you decided to stay inside the coffee shop while you finished your usual iced coffee with a dessert of Sooryeon’s choice. You wouldn’t have called the girl - or any of the employees of Coffee Carat for that matter - your friend, but she liked promoting their desserts to you whenever you seemed indecisive and you didn’t have the heart or confidence to tell her that at the first time you hadn’t been contemplating about what to order. You had been wondering where Wonwoo could have been as you couldn’t have seen him anywhere and whether he had liked the book you had bought him the week before.

You chose an empty table close to the windows because they were the furthest from the huge coffee bean sticker you had sat under the last time, then fished the same book you had read on the day of your job interview out of your tote bag to catch up on some reading. You would have liked to finish Rey’s The Enchanted Forest before the New Year began because you had started it months ago and you knew you wouldn’t have too much free time once the new semester started. Especially because then you wouldn’t only work as a teacher assistant anymore, but as a substitute literature teacher, too.

Sometimes you were convinced you overworked yourself and that you would be burnt out at the age of thirty, but you loved your busy schedule. Your endless to-dos were what made you feel accomplished. Wasting just one day, when everyone had limited time in life, always felt like you threw away something important. Something most people held onto desperately until their last breath. 

You took a bite from your brownie and pushed aside your lingering worries. It wasn’t that you would be a university student forever and you didn’t have too many friends to spend time with anyway. One more year and you would get your first degree. From then on, only your pedagogy minor would take up your time beside work and that wouldn’t last much longer, either, just another ten months. You could do it.

‘Hey,’ a familiar, deep voice addressed you and you turned your head to the left so that you could see Wonwoo’s face when he shot a soft smile in your direction. You reciprocated the gesture without noticing. ‘Sooryeon said it’s already winter break. How do you like it so far?’ He asked; the question a bit clumsy, but heart-warming at the same time.

‘It’s a bit… slow. But I’m not complaining,’ you said as you slid your index finger between the pages and placed the book on your lap. ‘Does the coffee shop go on a break, too? Will you be able to rest during the holidays?’

It was always interesting to see the contrast between how awkward you felt your questions were and how happy Wonwoo got when you engaged into a conversation with him despite his duties that often put an abrupt end to your talks. If you wanted to be honest, you didn’t mind the unlucky circumstances. In fact! They made each of your encounters more precious since you both needed to make an effort for them to happen.

‘We will be closed on the 25th, but other than that, I’ll be here on most days,’ he said and you acknowledged it with a nod. By now, you knew that he wasn’t just any waiter in the coffee shop. He was the manager of the place who was kind of a substitute for the owner when he wasn’t around. And that man had a whole wedding to plan, so he was less frequently around since he had proposed to his fiancée.

You and Wonwoo had obviously talked about a couple of different topics through the weeks, not only your responsibilities at work and school, but there were times when you still found yourself wondering whether you were allowed to ask personal questions and if you had been, where was that fine line you shouldn’t have crossed.

You were about to ask him whether he celebrated Christmas at all when he cleared his throat and broke the temporary silence.

‘Speaking of the holidays… Will you come to the charity event? It’s on the 23rd,’ he asked, referring to the event you had already seen on social media and of which they had posters all over the place. You honestly hadn’t thought of coming since you would go back home for the holidays, but Guri wasn’t that far from Seoul. You could always catch the last train and got home in time to help your mother with the Christmas tree. ‘We could come together if you are wary of coming alone. It’s my day off, but I’ll bring some presents to the kids, so… not together together, though. I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, I’m just not sure it’s appropriate considering that it hasn’t been that long since you broke up with your boyfriend…’

You had never heard Wonwoo speak so much under one breath. And while you thought his rambling was adorable - not to mention his rosy ears -, you wished to put his heart at ease, so you put aside your book and turned towards him with your entire body.

‘Wonwoo…’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,’ he apologised, tugging on your heartstrings with how weak his voice sounded. For some reason, you hated seeing him like this. Especially because it was you who made him feel so bad about his suggestion; although, you did so unintentionally.

‘You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,’ you reassured him and based on the sigh that left his mouth, he must have believed you. ‘It’s just, Joon broke up with me because I didn’t have enough time for him. I’m a bit reluctant to get back into dating,’ you explained, finding it odd how easily the words had fallen from your lips when not exactly two minutes ago, you had been wary whether you two had been close enough to talk about personal matters.

It seemed like, from your point of view, you were.

Still, the silence that usually pulled you into its warm embrace around him refused to bring you the same comfort. Instead, you felt anxious. Had you been mistaken? Had you crossed a line with how much you had said? Did he see you in a different light now?

‘I would have waited for you,’ the boy claimed in the end, stirring up dozens of conflicting emotions in you with his statement. On one hand, you were grateful for his approach, that he didn’t think you had deserved to be dumped because of your behaviour. On the other hand, he sounded too sure of himself, too hopeful and you didn’t want him to take your words lightly. You weren’t just saying you were busy. You were really, genuinely way too busy for a serious relationship. (Or any kind of relationship, truly, including platonic friendships that demanded more than a couple of hours of your time per week.)

‘He waited for me, too. All the time. That was where things went wrong,’ you insisted, which brought more silence into your conversation.

You didn’t think your concerns were overdramatic. You were simply cautious, because you didn’t want to make the same mistake again, especially not with someone like Wonwoo who deserved the whole world and more. He deserved more than what you could have given him at the current period of your life: late replies and indoor dates because you were too tired to do anything else but cuddle with him in bed.

Wonwoo wasn’t oblivious or stupid. He must have known that you tried to reject him in the least painful way possible without damaging the bond you had built during the past weeks. Still, when you looked up at his face, he was smiling.

‘That doesn’t matter to me. People are different,’ he reassured you and you might have been delusional, but the care he formed every syllable with and the way he looked at you like you were someone he wanted to protect made you feel as though this was his way of telling you that he would wait. That only if you had given him a chance, he would have waited for you and appreciated every date with you regardless of how short they would have been.

The weight of the implication closed up your throat, hence you were grateful when he didn’t push your boundaries more. Not that it should have taken you by surprise. He never did.

Your heart skipped a silly beat when instead of more questions, the boy put a minimalistic yet beautiful daily planner on your table. It was his turn to surprise you with a present, you were aware of it, too, somewhere in the back of your mind, but it still took you aback. You were seriously at a loss for words when you thanked him with a bashful smile.

‘There’s a letter in it. It’s like a book report about the book you gave me last time. I finished it yesterday,’ he explained and your first instinct upon hearing the news was to jump on the opportunity and ask him how he had liked the plot, which was stupid. This was exactly what his letter was about.

Cheeks rose-tinted and palms clammy, a massive amount of anxiety was lifted off your chest when Minghao chose the next second to walk up to Wonwoo and tell him about the woman who came for the job interview. You knew from the boy that they were currently looking for a second baker who could have helped Mingyu with the immense amount of baked goods he needed to prepare from day to day, but you had no idea it was a part of his job to evaluate the candidates. It made sense, though. He was the manager of the shop, after all.

After the boys went back to work, you spent long hours by your table, enjoying your lack of concrete plans for that day. You finished your book and got so excited about the sequel that you ordered it online. You jotted down a couple of important tasks in your new planner. You also paid more attention to your surroundings between two sips and bites, wondering whether it had always been so entertaining to just exist or it was the unique atmosphere of the coffee shop that turned mundane activities into something worth experiencing.

In the meantime, you pondered over Wonwoo’s words more frequently than your confidence would have let you admit. You thought about how differently you and your family members saw the world. You thought about all the fundamental things you disagree on with Xiaoxiao despite loving her with your whole heart. You recalled every single fight you had had with Joon and thought: Shoot! How insignificant they appeared to be compared to those millions of harmonious agreements you had come to in that almost one year you had spent together. Could those differences have mattered more than you had initially thought? Had it been a mistake when you had been deliberately oblivious of your differences because it had been easier to concentrate on your similarities?

Were differences a good thing or a bad thing? Where did the line lay from where too many disagreements would have torn a relationship apart?

You didn’t find the answers that day. You were also reluctant to believe that just because Wonwoo was right about how every person was different, he could have also been right about the difference in their opinion about the importance of time spent together with their partner. Could such a significant deviation exist at all when it came to human connection?

You were almost convinced that you had more questions by the end of the boy’s shift than how many you had had when he had asked you about the charity event, but you were still smiling when Wonwoo walked up to you in his streetwear and offered you to walk you to the bus stop in case you were still up for it.

You obviously had nothing against spending a bit of more time with him just because of the awkwardness that had lingered around you when you had been talking about your break-up. Especially because when you looked him in the eyes, you realised that waiting for him to finish at work hadn’t been bad at all. You simply weren’t ready to admit: just like his, your definition of waiting for someone you liked might have differed from Joon’s, too.

To you, it was more about the barely noticeable excitement of anticipation than the wasted time you could have spent more wisely. It was about the reward in the end instead of those long minutes or hours it took you to reach the finish line.

And this might have been easily the reason that ultimately led to the end of your first serious relationship. Not the number of differences you had, but the nature of those that reappeared in your everyday life over and over. Joon was too focused on the negative aspects of your busy schedule and you were too happy to see the problems.

This conclusion helped you feel less guilty.

You hadn’t had much time to decide whether you would have shown up at the café’s charity event, only five and a half days to be precise, but you had made up your mind an average of five times a day before you had written a curt message to Wonwoo about what kinds of gifts you should have bought for the children.

Since there wasn’t a maximum amount of presents each participants should have left on the table in the back of the shop where Yeseo and Seokmin were collecting them, you arrived with one for each age group they had announced on the posters beforehand, then exchanged your free coffee or dessert coupon at the counter for a glass of iced coffee.

‘These coupons don’t have an expiration date. You could have taken one for each box and used them another time,’ Wonwoo enlightened you while he was waiting for his pumpkin pie hot chocolate. It was a seasonal item on the menu along with their cinnamon-apple pie latte and gingerbread macchiato, but no matter how christmassy they sounded, they were all hot drinks and those were a big no for you under every circumstance.

‘Yeseo made sure I knew, but it’s for a good cause. It would’ve felt wrong to take more,’ you explained, failing to find an empty table in the customer area until Wonwoo tilted his head to the right and encouraged you to follow his line of sight. ‘I’ll go and take a seat,’ you claimed with a relieved heart, glad that you wouldn’t have to stand awkwardly beside the counter until the event officially came to an end.

People had almost an hour left to bring their presents to the coffee shop before the girlfriend of one of Wonwoo’s friends arrived with her minivan and took them to the children’s hospital near your university.

You shot a grateful smile at the boy when he put the tray in the middle of your table and took your coffee off it the same moment Wonwoo put one of the shortcakes in front of you. You hadn’t ordered any dessert, but accepted it without a word or making a fuss about how it was your turn to surprise him with something he might have liked.

‘Thank you,’ you said instead, only realising it belatedly that you didn’t feel burdened by the error in the unspoken order or the fact that he gave you something for free.

If you wanted to be honest, you weren’t sure how you felt about the change. You had been taught in your whole life that owing others could be dangerous; you had been unable to accept gifts from Joon without a frown throughout your whole relationship. But if anything, it only proved to you that you might have been more ready to give a chance to Wonwoo’s theory than you had thought.

You still stalled.

Even though you had a separate present for him in your bag, you let him bring up topics that had nothing to do with the holidays. You jumped on the opportunity to talk about your future plans like a starving man jumped on a loaf of dry bread and inquired about his. How had he ended up at Coffee Carat with a literature degree? Had he always wanted to be a coffee shop manager? Didn’t he seek something more tranquil like libraries and those hidden bookstores in the heart of Seoul he liked to visit in his free time so much?

With every answer he gave you, you had two and three more to ask, but you made sure to add comfortable silence to your afternoon, too, because you knew you would always have another chance to get to know him more and because you didn’t want to overwhelm him with your slowly growing curiosity. 

You also felt awkward whenever you talked so much and with that came the urge to play with the closest napkin, tear it to tiny little pieces and look at the snow-like pile intently, so that you had a reason to avoid eye contact.

‘I brought you something,’ you blurted out at one point, after your third glass of iced coffee, when there were only a couple of people left in the shop. Maybe, you were on caffeine high. Maybe, you found Wonwoo irresistibly cute when he reminded you of the consequences of a fourth glass. Either way, you felt you were finally ready.

Your smile was small albeit genuine when you reached for your tote bag and pulled a square shaped present out of it. It was wrapped in midnight blue paper and neatly decorated with silver ribbons for aesthetics. The more time you had spent on making it look perfect, the less you had thought of the book you had chosen this time, which had definitely kept you from overthinking it. It was just a book, after all.

Even if, to the both of you, it might have meant more. In case he had meant when he had said he would have waited for you.

‘Here,’ you mumbled, too nervous for your own good while you paid close attention to the boy’s reaction. He didn’t seem surprised, which made sense since he must have anticipated it the same way you always did after you had given him something. It was like… like an unsaid promise that sooner or later you would get something in return.

You held back your breath while Wonwoo’s long fingers tore apart the wrapping paper ever so gently and debated whether you should have observed his facial expressions or kept your gaze on your empty glass.

‘Is this…’ the boy broke the silence, his deep voice borderline hopeful as he reached for your hand to gain your attention.

You gulped and nodded, letting his fingertips brush aside your nerves as they fondled the back of your hand.

‘Yeah, I…’ you started, staring at the cover of the book you had bought for him, at the capital letters that said: Ready for the fall.

The book itself had nothing to do with relationships. It was a sequel of a fantasy you had never heard about, but when you had been wandering around the bookstore to pick the perfect novel for him, you couldn’t have left it there. 

‘I’d like to give this… us a try. But before you say anything, Wonwoo-yah, I need you to know that I might not be the best girlfriend you can get. I’m busy and I will be even busier once the next semester starts. I might fall asleep in the middle of our date nights and be late from dinners. I might forget important dates and…’ you bit into your lip when he squeezed your hand and a part of you expected him to say your words meant you weren’t really ready, but instead, he just smiled at you as though you had given him something wonderful.

‘It’s okay. I’m okay with baby steps,’ he reassured you. ‘It’s also okay if we don’t put a label on our relationship immediately. We could hang out outside of the coffee shop more often at first, just the two of us,’ he proposed and his consideration took the invisible burdens of high expectations off your shoulders.

You squeezed his hand back.

‘I need to go back to Guri for Christmas, but I’ll be back on the 28th,’ you said, not letting go of his hand. ‘We could… grab dinner together,’ you suggested, loving how easy it was to find a date that was good for the both of you even though you knew it was easy because it was still winter break. It would become harder with time.

The possibility that your relationship with Wonwoo would hurt him in the long run scared you, but one glance at his warm, chocolate brown orbs gave you hope. Thus, when he walked you home later that night, then said his goodbye in front of your building with a clumsy bear hug, you wished you had made the right decision.

This time, you wanted to do it right. You wanted to keep all the unsaid and voiced out promises relationships were built on, because if you had been worth the wait, he had been worth the extra effort.

➼ next reason

[portra400s]

MUN INTRO: hey! my name's peyton [th/th, cst, 21+] & i'll be writing for sverre olsen, lee hyeon, selena palacio & dylan hwang here. you can find me on discord @ #seamonkeydefender & please feel free to add me w/o asking as well! discord is my preferred plotting method. all of my characters are on sideblogs aside from sverre, so i will be dming from this blog when necessary... hehe

CHARA INTRO: first up, sverre olsen. he's a 26yr old grad student studying @ jeju natl university on the gks scholarship. he's an assistant editor for the local paper, but mostly works remotely as he spends a lot of time in jeju city for school. currently on his ~2nd year of living in yuseong bay. you can view his stats here & his pinterest here if interested!

answer the following prompts, either ooc or ic!

when did your muse first arrive in yuseong bay?: technically, about three and a half years ago when he did a semester abroad @ jeju natl uni as an undergrad student. he was living in jeju city, but a friend brought him to yuseong bay to see the meteor shower and he kind of fell in love with the place, which prompted him to consider doing the entirety of his grad studies in jeju. obviously, things ended up working out in his favor and he moved to yuseong bay two years ago.

what does an average day look like for your muse?: wake up at 6:30am, check on his cat (let her in if she spent the night outside; let her out if she spent the night inside) / make sure she has food, get ready, grab a quick coffee & breakfast @ andante cafe, catch the bus to jeju city, hate his life for about 7 hours, catch the bus back to yuseong bay, check on his cat (let her in if she spent the day outside; let her out if she spent the day inside), spend the rest of his evening working thru his laptop, which he will usually do in a public setting in order to people watch and daydream about having more friends than he does, try to go to bed by 10:30pm, usually lay awake regretting until midnight. rinse, repeat.

where can your muse usually be found?: around 7:30am he'll make a brief appearance at cafe andante (every weekday) / 8am to 3pm he'll be in jeju city @ jeju natl uni (mon, tues, thurs, fri) / frequently makes appearances at daeyanghwa florals to buy himself flowers, usually around 5:30/6pm / stops by ojo records about once every two weeks to see if anyone's given up any old records that might be up his alley / seen in the vicinity of hanwha resort wednesdays around 11:30am for undisclosed reasons, shut up, no you didn't see him there, that must've been someone else / does his weekly grocery shopping at lemon martes on wednesdays somewhere between 2pm and 5pm, usually loiters for a bit hoping to have a meetcute (hasn't happened yet, maybe next time?).

how does your muse feel about hanwha resort?: admittedly indifferent, but the general consensus suggests that he shouldn't be too into the idea, so he'll talk his fair share of shit if the social situation calls for it. unfortunately his parents chose to purchase a timeshare as an excuse to be closer to him for at least two weeks out of the year, so that's both making sverre truly hate the place but also making the locals think he's a supporter since his name is also on the timeshare and he has to attend the seminars.

is there an aspiration for your muse to stay in or leave yuseong bay?: eh... he's got a stray cat that's taken a shine to him, he's on a full-ride scholarship and still has another year to go before he gets his master's degree, and rent's cheaper here than it is in jeju city, so he's got reasons to stay at least for the next year. however, he doesn't romanticize yuseong bay like he used to & wouldn't be opposed to relocating—regardless, he'll have to go back to the netherlands once he's done with school, soooo...

answer the following, ooc!

list your muse's three favorite songs: annie's song by john denver, chateau lobby #4 (in c for two virgins) by father john misty, my girl by the temptations; a fan of emotionally-charged, old (or old-sounding) love songs.

describe your muse's wardrobe: “grandpacore,” to put it simply. a color palette of neutrals in vintage inspired pieces. a lot of chunky sweaters, loose trousers & loafers, has sometimes been told that his fashion choices are “reminiscent of oatmeal,” whatever that means. occasionally breaks out a bold t-shirt or sweatshirt with some ironic phrase on it. accessorizes with messenger bags, dad hats, minimal gold jewelry & retro (sun)glasses. has a collection of converse high-tops, but rarely wears them these days.

color, word, and emoji to describe your muse: beige, "oatmeal", 🧸

three strong likes and dislikes for your muse: really likes animals (especially ones that people are usually afraid of or grossed out by, i.e possums, insects, rodents), the sound of the ocean (including putting a big shell up to his ear to "hear the ocean"), laughing / really doesn't like ac/dc, traveling by taxi, action movies.

three positive and negative traits for your muse: positive affectionate, sincere, intelligent / negative obsessive, irrational, dependent.

three talents and shortcomings for your muse: talents cooking, picking up new words, befriending wild critters / shortcomings can't drive, nervous about making phonecalls, low spice tolerance.

a relevant goal or arch for your character to overcome: at the moment, sverre's an assistant editor for the local newspaper; in the remaining time that he'll be in yuseong bay, he would like to be promoted to just... an editor... but that probably won't happen. aside from that, he's currently The Loser of Yuseong Bay so it would be nice to see him gain more confidence in himself / make meaningful friendships!

[softspiderling]

crush talk below the cut heheh

okay so… my CRUSH let’s call him eggsy he’s one of my english class and in one of my educational science classes. the educational science class is a block seminar tho, so we had the intro session at the beginning of the semester and then we just have three full days of the class. so i’ve seen him in the english class first and then the intro session of the educational science class was on zoom and his camera was on so i recognized him (also bc he’s mad hot)

anyways i’ve been talking about him with my friend cleo bc i said that he’s hot and blablabla anyways today i was saving cleo a seat next to me, our friend mary was sitting to my right. i sent a few people away bc i was saving the spot for cleo. Eggsy walks in past the free row in the front (his friend was behind him) and walks straight to the empty seat next to me, (his friend sits down in the first row). he starts pulling out the chair next to me and i was like freezing bc bro on the one hand i wanted to save the seat for cleo and on the other hand eggsy😭 i told him hey can u just maybe scoot over if my friend comes right and he said sure. class hasn’t started yet and i was working on my presentation for the educational science class (lets call it esc from now on) this weekend. and i was like “i need to talk to him” so i turned to him and said “hey aren’t u in my esc class this weekend per chance” like girl yes he is and he was like omg yes and we started talking about it blabla and we were saying like how it’s so long (friday to sunday, 10am-6pm) and he was like yeah bc i have another class on fridays from 8-10am so i’ll be at uni for 10 hours and i was like yeah i have another block seminar next weekend which is only like one and a half day and he was like “oh which one” and i said history and he was like oh okay okay. WHILE WE WEFE TALKING this man started taking his hoodie off. AND IT WADNT EVEN WARM RIGHT LIKE HE JUST DID IT FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES😭 and we were just like talking and blabla anyways class starts and the prof hands out the attendance sheet where we have to sign our names. eggsy hands me the list, and i was flipping through the pages waiting to see if he was gonna offer me his pen (i only had my ipad and computer on the desk) I NOTICE HIM WATCHING ME and he goes “do you need my pen” and i was like “yes id love your pen👀” i died dead

meanwhile i was texting my friends mad freaking out with eggsy next to me 😭😭

anyways at the end of the class it was running longer than it was supposed to,eggsy started checking the time on his phone and i side eyed him and then we both started laughing😭 when class was over we like packed up our shit, cleo and mary both left pretty quick, eggsy turns around to me and says “see you friday” OMFGGGG i died

[boba-beom]

it's honestly so great, i really missed being here. home. with the people i love. i spent most of my life here and sometimes, i really miss it and i wish i could've been able to stay here for uni as well. that happens when you live abroad i guess, you long for your home, for your people, for your language, for your culture and your food.

omg you had your birthday?? belated happy birthday 🥺 i hope you had an amazing time with the people you love❤️ i haven't known you for that long, but i really enjoy talking to you and seeing your posts on my notifs. you always manage to bring a smile on my face c:

LMAO NOT THE "you're getting older" message pls😭 i don't know much about the whole situation, but he seems confusing? is he being friendly or is this going to become some sort of casual thing between the two of you? idk if you've ever watched friends, but there's this submarine guy phoebe went out with at some point and basically he resurfaced every 2 years and they had the most amazing time together. so it could be something like thaaaat? or it could be just him being friendly. guys are so confusing honestly😭

ah, i swear, rediscovering things is a whole new experience and i'm sure you'll enjoy it as if it's the first time. i just love it when muscle memory kicks in, cause it feels like "wow i can't believe i remember this" and also "damn it, i AM good" LOL. what type of guitar do you usually play though? classical, acoustic or electric?

ahh, you're welcome. honestly at this point i'm convinced that you could write about a trashbag and i still would like it, because your writing is that good. it captivates you in its own way and i enjoy seeing all these scenarios i've never thought of or seen before on here (• ♡ •)

that sounds like a good idea. i hope everything goes well with your coursework and you get a good grade. you got this!!❤️

when it comes to university, i start my next semester in april and my timetable is such a mess, i'm really not looking forward to the next semester in a way lol. but on the other hand, i'm super excited for some of the lectures and seminars i'll be attending. we're finally taking two clinical psychology lectures and this one seminar about mental disorders. the clinical part has always been my main interest ever since i started my bachelor's, so i'm excited to finally dive in deeper. oh, that reminds me. what are you studying if you don't mind me asking?

that's so true smiles, thank you🥺❤️ i'll definitely tag you once it's out, thank you for being so supportive❤️❤️

ohh the uni trip sounds so exciting, i hope you had a good time!! and it sounds like you've had a very productive couple of days!! hope you're also resting and taking care of yourself <3 pls that post made me so soft, it was so well written and i just loved the moments between mc and beomgyu🥺 really showcased how well they matched each-other, almost fitting perfectly into one-another like two puzzle pieces. i also use bullet points to write sometimes haha they really do help with planning/brainstorming and then also connecting everything into one once you're done.

i've been pretty well tbh, just eating a lot and having a good time with my friends and family hehe. i can't believe i go home in three days though, these past few days really felt like a fever dream.

of course being in the comfort of your own home is the best over anything, but I'm really happy you got to spend time with your loved ones <3

this was longer than I expected lmao

and thank you! yes, it was only a small celebration since I had quite a loud one last year. plus I only stayed home for 3 days since I had uni a couple of days after my birthday.

it's funny actually, yesterday he went to my home city for an interview and he was there for two nights, but last night was his last night in the city and I was added to a group call with him and our bsf. my bsf left the call around 2am but he and I kept talking until 6am :') and he had a train to catch at 10am... it was nice, I feel like I did genuinely get to know him a little more without having our bsf there to prompt us to talk. but I feel like I enjoy talking to him, but I think I'm going to leave it at just friends... for now since that's all what it feels like at the minute :>

that's so true! and I have an electro-acoustic guitar!! I do want an electric guitar at some point though, or even a bass too. are there any other instruments you want to learn or have played in the past?

and pls, you're too sweet :') I do have the tendency to use flowery terms and what not, I can't help it though hehe but thank you so so much for always being so interested and I love hearing your feedback because I always wanna know what goes on through someone's mind or their thoughts about anything of mine that they've read.

but thank you! I've been progressing well, but I do need to make timetable or a schedule for things I need to do, slowly but surely I will be okay!

I hope your next semester won't be too hard on you! omg my sister does psychology too and clinical is something she's wanting to do :> I do interior architecture and design! I'm loving it, truly, but it's just the fact the deadline's coming closer is something that makes me anxious about my work is all.

I had a long rest over the weekend and I've been back on the grind since monday so I've been keeping on track with what I've been wanting to do! and yes, that piece was written a little differently than what I usually do but, again, thank you for liking it so much! I'm happy my imagination was envisioned well to you<3 and for writing, everyone has their own ways, as long as you enjoy the process then go for it!

I hope you have/had a save flight, my love! as always, there will be more times when you can come back home and spend time with them again! it's just something you can look forward to next time, yano? rest up and I hope you have good days ahead of you 💕

[tardis--dreams]

I enrolled into a course on aviation linguistics solely because my professor has talked about this non stop ever since my first semester and I just realized I'm not actually that interested in the topic and I just kinda wanna know what makes it worth talking about it so much

[itsgoldenlikedayllight]

oh and - i got a 1.0 on an english assignment and the prof remembered my name and told me i did a very good job so thats goooood!

[funkymonkeymeg]

Professor!Daniel x Reader

Okay I have a LOT of thoughts about Professor!Daniel and after today’s shit show I feel like we could all use this (btw I envision Daniel as an English/literature teacher in this)

The first lecture he was already totally enamoured by you. Sitting there with your reading glasses on, your copy of the book the class was studying full of coloured post it notes and your scribbled thoughts. You listened to his every word, frantically writing down everything he said about the book so you could compile it with your own notes. At the end of the lecture, he was ready to call you over to get to know who exactly you were and get to know you more but there were so many students rushing out of the lecture hall and rushing in for the next class, he lost sight of you. But he knew that there was something special about you, he had to find out more

The next day you had a seminar with Professor Ricciardo. The beauty of this seminar class was that it was a lot smaller than the lectures – only a handful of students would attend, giving you all plenty opportunities to discuss the book you had been studying and bounce ideas off each other. Daniel could hardly wait to see you again and hear your thoughts on the text he had chosen for the class to study that semester. His heart sank when he strolled into the classroom, only to be greeted with 5 students, none of them you. With a heavy sigh, he placed his old, battered briefcase on the desk and turned to the students sat in front of him, trying to plant a grin on his face. “Hi, I’m Professor Ricciardo, your literature teacher for this semester. I trust you have already read the novel for this class and have some thoughts on the text,” he said, turning to retrieve his own copy of the book from his briefcase. Just as he was about to turn back to the class, he heard the classroom door open and someone rushing in. “I’m so sorry professor, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was rereading the text and lost track of time and then I couldn’t find the room and I’m so so sorry,” the person rambled, slightly out of breath. Daniel sighed, ready to give the student in question a piece of his mind but as he turned to look at them, he realised it was you. The same student he was transfixed by only the previous day. There you were, slightly out of breath, flushed pink cheeks, your hair hastily pulled up into a messy bun which was held together by only a pen. He swallowed. “No worries at all, we’ve only just begun. Grab a seat and we can get started,” he smiled before leaning back on his desk. You sheepily smiled back at him before grabbing the only vacant seat, unfortunately right at the back of the room. The next hour was filled with Daniel sharing his thoughts about the text to the students in the room, stealing glances at you whenever he could. He noticed that you seemed to be the only student taking notes, the others more interested in whatever was on their phones. At no point during that class did you take your phone out, instead scribbling in your little notebook, a slight frown on your face and pursed lips as a sign of concentration. As he was halfway through an explanation of his thoughts on the main character, he noticed another student had their hand raised. “Yes, Mr…?” he asked, gesturing his hand towards the student. “Miles. I just wanted to say that I think you’re wrong about the main character. It’s in her best interest to marry the man chosen by her parents, he has a lot of money and by marrying him and taking his name, she’ll have a much more successful life,” the young man lounged back in his seat and smirked at Daniel. Daniel sighed, every year he had students like this that couldn’t appreciate the uniqueness of the main character and her struggles throughout the book. Before he could respond, he heard a scoff from the back of the room. He, along with the rest of the class, turned to look at you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?” he asked gently. You looked up from your notebook, not realising the entire class had stopped at your outburst. “Um, well I just…” you stammered, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. “C’mon, you were brave enough to scoff at me, let’s hear your thoughts,” Miles sneered. Daniel was ready to intervene and steer the conversation towards a different topic, but you spoke first. “Well, Mr Miles, I just wanted to say that I respectfully disagree with your opinion. The main character is not interested in money or fame, and thus by marrying her arranged husband, would only plunge herself into a lifetime of misery and regret. She is seeking love and passion from her life, something that her arranged husband has already admitted he refuses to give her. I think the book cleverly describes the difficult decisions that women have to make and showcases them as unique individuals, rather than perceiving them as objects for men, as is the case for most literature produced at that time” you explained, not breaking eye contact with Miles. He squirmed in his seat and turned away, admitting defeat. Daniel simply smiled before resuming the class.

As the weeks went by, Daniel fell more and more in love with you. Your dedication to the subject was apparent by your non-stop note taking during lectures and he adored whenever you made contributions during the seminars, especially when you out sassed the other students. You had interpreted the text in such a way that in all his years of teaching, he had never seen before. He loved discussing the book with you hearing your thoughts on the main character, often the both of you staying behind after seminars to discuss the novel, just the two of you. He loved these moments, the two of you in your own world, looking into each other’s eyes, falling in love with the sound of each other’s voices.

You had also started to feel the attraction. Being the first student to turn up and the last to leave, sitting at the front of every class, watching and listening to him intently, jotting down every word that came out of his perfect plump lips. You knew he felt it as well, more than once catching him staring at you during class or referring to a point you have previously made. He didn’t do that with any other student.

You had a plan. You were going to make the first move. Professor Ricciardo had set the entire class an essay assignment and you had been working your absolute butt off to make it the best damn essay he had ever read. Sure, there were late nights, endless cups of coffee and countless visits to the library but it was finally done. You had it printed off, ready to hand in at the end of today’s class. But what Professor Ricciardo didn’t know was that you had sneaked in an extra surprise into your essay. As you strolled up to him after the lecture, essay in hand, you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. He was packing away his papers, the other students filing out, leaving just the two of you in the huge lecture theatre. “Professor Ricciardo?” you asked, walking up close to him but leaving a bit of distance. He turned to face you, smiling as he did so. “Yes, how can I help?” his voice was like honey, you could listen to it all day. You looked down at your essay, refusing to get lost in his honey-coloured eyes. “I just wanted to hand in my essay,” you smiled, handing him your essay. He looked confused. “Your linguistics essay? That’s not due until next week,” he said, taking the papers from your hand. “Yeah well, there’s something in there that I really want to hear your thoughts on” you smirked, a suggestive tone in your voice. Before he could respond, you turned and walked out of the theatre, making sure to swing your hips more than usual. Daniel’s eyes simply followed you before flicking through your essay, his breath getting caught in his throat when he found your surprise. A handful of polaroids. Of you. In very little clothing. And posing in explicit positions. “Oh you little minx,” he whispered, placing the photos in his blazer pocket before grabbing his briefcase and exiting the lecture theatre.

Daniel was impatiently waiting for you to turn up to the seminar. Usually, you were the first one here, but you had decided to be a tease, unbeknown to him. “Sir are we going to start?” another student asked. He sighed, accepting the fact that you were not going to show up. “Yes, let’s get started. Okay, let’s discuss the use of persuasive language in chapter twelve,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. He hadn’t realised how much he loved your presence until you were no longer there. “Well, I happened to think that the use of persuasive language was overused in chapter twelve. The author clearly got carried away and forgot what the main point of the story was,” came a voice from the door. Your voice. Daniel turned to see you standing in the doorway. There you were, only today you looked different. Whilst you usually wore leggings and baggy jumpers, today you wore a mini skirt and a tight-fitting sweater. Whilst your hair was usually thrown up into a messy bun, today you had worn it down and curled it, letting it bounce across your chest. What had grabbed Daniel’s attention the most, however, was the bright red lipstick you had applied. You simply smiled at him, before taking a seat at the back of the classroom. “Um, okay, uh… where were we?” he stuttered, turning to the rest of the class. Throughout the rest of the seminar, Daniel couldn’t help but be perplexed by your behaviour. Usually, you spent the seminars scribbling down notes and engaging in detailed discussions with him about the novel. But today, you simply sat and watched him. Your eyes followed his hands as he articulated his points and whenever he glanced your way, you sweetly smiled at him.  The sexual tension was beginning to become unbearable. “Okay, let’s end it there. You can all have an early finish this week,” Daniel clapped, signalling the end of the class. The rest of the students rushed out of the classroom, grateful for an early finish. But you stayed behind, watching Daniel as he packed his papers away, only increasing the sexual tension between the two of you. You noted the care he took with each piece of paper, placing them carefully in his briefcase, ensuring they didn’t get crumpled or messed up with each other. Finally, he finished and looked up at you. “Can I help you, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, undressing you with his eyes. Oh, he wanted to drag this out. Well, two can play at that game, you thought to yourself. You stood up and sauntered over to him, standing on one side of the desk while he stood on the other. It was almost like a stand-off, a game to see who would give in to temptation first. “I was just wondering if you’ve had a chance to read through my essay yet?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him and tilting your head slightly. “Why yes, it made for very pleasant reading last night,” Daniel smirked at you. You pursed your lips, slightly annoyed at how long this was taking. Weeks of build-up had left you very sexually frustrated, you just wanted him to take you, then and there.  “Was there anything in particular that stood out?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. One way or another, you would make him break. Daniel didn’t take his eyes off you. “Well, I thought you made some excellent points. But if I’m being honest, you could work on your presentation a bit more.” Daniel started walking towards you. You frowned. You had worked so damn hard on your essay; did he really think it was that bad? “What was wrong with my presentation?” you asked, forgetting about the unspoken game you were playing with him. “Well, as much as I like the short skirt and the red lipstick, I do love your usual look,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving yours. You sighed in relief. “However, there are some positives to this new look,” he murmured to himself, looking over your body. “Oh yeah, like what?” you asked, placing your hands on your waist in an attempt to enunciate your curves even more. “Well…” he drawled out, stepping closer to you. “This skirt for example. I don’t like the thought of others staring at those long legs of yours. But it does provide ease of access.” Before you could even respond, his hand had found its place cupping your heat. “Naughty girl not wearing any panties.” “Oh! Professor Daniel,” you gasped as he inserted one finger into you. “You don’t need to call me that,” Daniel laughed before inserting another finger into you with ease. You had been soaking wet since handing him your essay the day before, so he didn’t have any trouble. “Well, what about Sir?” you leaned forward to whisper into his ear before biting his earlobe. Daniel groaned before picking up the pace, the classroom soon filled with the sound of his fingers rapidly working in and out of your soaking pussy and both your moans and groans. “Oh Sir I’m so close, please let me cum,” you whimpered, clutching his blazer with your hands. “Yeah baby, gonna cum for me? Gonna soak these fingers like the filthy little slut you are?” Daniel growled at you, picking up the pace of his fingers. You moaned loudly and arched your back. “Please sir, please,” you begged, hiding your face in his neck and bucking your hips up. Daniel continued his torturous pace on your pussy, before grabbing your hair and pulling your head back to look at your face. “Look at me baby. Look into my eyes as I make you cum,” he spoke before rubbing your clit with his thumb. That was the final straw before your pussy gushed all over his hand, your moans loud and high pitched as you came and yet, you never broke eye contact with him. As you calmed down, Daniel placed kisses all over your face but avoided your lips. It wasn’t long before you became sensitive, whining as Daniel continued to finger your cunt. “Sir…please,” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes. Daniel gently removed his fingers before placing them under your chin and tilting your head up. “My best student,” he smiled before placing his lips on yours.

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter ten: "Set me free my honey bee"

Word count: 11,6K

Summary: Let's jump 19 months in time and see how painful it has turned for reader and Spencer to hide their feelings for each other. JJ leaves the team, and a new member joins the BAU.

Warnings: Angst and hurt. Fools being assholes. Cursing, of course. Mention of CM cases and spoilers on S06E11.

A/N: Please don't hate me. Just remember things usually look like the shit before they get worst, and then everything is better. I hope.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Time is a weird thing. I remember when I was in school and time didn't pass fast enough. Semesters were eternal. It felt it had been years by the time summer vacation arrived. The complete opposite happened to me at the BAU. Suddenly, time passed too quickly. A whole year and a half went by in the blink of an eye.

I told Spencer about it, and he sent me a paper published by Professor Adrian Bejan that presented an argument based on the physics of neural signal processing. He hypothesizes that, over time, the rate at which we process visual information slows down, and this is what makes time 'speed up' as we grow older.

My answer was that I thought it happened 'cos as we grew older, we did things that actually gave us joy, which made us feel the time was passing faster than before. So we argued a whole Saturday afternoon about it and created our own theories for that event.

My theory was my personal favorite, 'cos it was the only one that could easily explain why so much time had passed in the BAU, and it felt like it had been just a few weeks.

It hadn't been easy, though. Those nineteen months had been filled with some of the worst situations we had been through as a team.

After I got shot, JJ finally admitted her relationship with Will and got pregnant. That was shocking, the first BAU baby: Henry.

Sadly, Henry was the only little good thing that happened that year. Because to sum it up, a bunch of awful shit happened to all of us: Hotch was in a car explosion that almost killed him. Spencer and Prentiss got trapped in an undercover mission into an underground cult to investigate child abuse, and Emily was beaten up pretty badly. Also, Spencer got infected with anthrax and nearly died. That was probably the most agonizing moment I had lived since the whole Tobias Hankel situation two years earlier.

Also, that year Prentiss had to investigate the case of the death of one of her best friends, and I was in a pretty nasty fight with an unsub that got me out of the field for three weeks. Not to mention, Spencer was shot in the leg.

Hotch was stabbed by the only unsub that has actually won against the BAU: Foyet. He attacked Aaron and got on the lose for months, but we all knew his next move as torture Hotch's family. That's why his ex-wife Haley and his little son Jack had to go into protective custody, and he couldn't see them for months while we tried to catch Foyet.

Things didn't go as planned. And without a doubt, the worst moment that year was the day Haley died. Foyet killed her, and Aaron lost it. He literally killed him with his bare hands the moment he got him. For a solid week, I was sure Aaron Hotchner wouldn't be the unit chief anymore. Strauss actually opened an investigation related to everything that happened that day. But in the end, somehow, she understood the "bloodbath" that had happened in that house was all in Foyet's hands.

However, there's no way to deny that the whole team had changed in many ways after that year. The concept of being a family was now more present than ever. After chasing Foyet for months, we were all onto him as if he was chasing our own family, because he was.

You don't work this kind of job with a team like mine and don't get attached to them. And this goes beyond how in love I was with Spencer. The (Y/N) who first stepped into the BAU, scared to show her true self, was long gone. And despite my deepest fears, letting them in and showing them who I really was had been one of the smartest decisions I have ever made.

Do you want to know which was my stupidest decision? Falling in love with Spencer Reid. It hadn't actually been my choice. I just didn't fight the feeling either. I don't think I could have even if I tried, though. Those nineteen months brought us so close, my mom thought we were living together, and the teasing from our friends was so common we weren't even affected by it.

For Christ Sakes, even Strauss thought we were dating! She forced us to attend a seminar on fraternization, concerned after she realized we always took our vacation together. We had a lot of fun trips, though. First, we visited his mom and had an amazing weekend in Las Vegas. Then we took a few days off after the anthrax incident and went to Hawaii. Picture Spencer Reid in an "all-inclusive," drinking all the coffee and eating all the pastries possible while reading a million books underneath an extra-large umbrella. We had fun that week, did some local touring, but most of all, sleeping in and relaxing. Spencer hates the beach but got those tickets anyway.

Did everybody think we were a couple? Yes

Did it help that we shared rooms, 'cos we were already used to it? No

Did it feel like a honeymoon without sex? Yes

Could I stop thinking about sex with Spencer? No.

And all that led us to the nightmare our relationship was going to become.

Penelope Garcia was drunk. She kept pouring shots and pushing them to us. Emily was wasted as well. But she kept acting like the classy lady she is. Not like JJ. My poor baby had mascara smeared under her eyes after crying for like an hour.

We found out she was leaving the team, and it was a hard blow on us. And by hard, I mean the worst thing that had ever happened to us. We had suffered without JJ when she was on maternity leave. And we struggled without her. Now knowing the Pentagon had taken her away from the BAU was torture.

We had a goodbye party for her at Rossi's, but this was our goodbye girl's night, and neither of us was holding anything back.

We had cried, we had sung sad songs. We drank all the champagne, wine, and vodka we could find. And now, holding our tequila shots, we knew it was time to call it a night.

- "I just love you girls so much,"- JJ whispered, crying- I don't wanna work without you.

- "Boo, come here!!"- I opened my arms and wrapped them around my friend, kissing the top of her hair a few times- "I love you too, and you are going to come back so soon you won't have time to miss us. You'll see. Papa Rossi and Dada Hotch are gonna fix everything."

I was drunk. Seriously drunk. But that wasn't the reason why I was so sweet with JJ. The truth is, I was broken-hearted. Like Penelope and Reid, I didn't manage change very well, and the fact that JJ was forced to leave made me feel frustrated and mad. But most of all, it made me think of every time I had been a little bitch with her during the years. And I regretted each one of them.

- "And we won't be far!"- Emily added and caressed JJ's arm, smiling kindly- "You will still be in town, and we will not leave you alone"- JJ chuckled and nodded.

- "I know, girls. Shit, I love you all so much!"

- "We love you too!"- Penelope sobbed and moved closer, wrapping the three of us in her arms.

- "Please, take care!"- JJ wiped off the tears from her eyes and looked at us- "Emily, don't do anything stupid! Don't rush in the field, and please don't take your fucking vest off!!"

- "I won't! I promise!"

- "You have to live to be Unit chief one day!"- JJ added, and Prentiss widened her eyes, shocked.

- "That's not really my gold."

- "But you'd be queen, baby!!"- Jareau added and turned to Penelope- "And you, please make sure Hotch eats. I kept a stack of granola bars on my desk to keep him fueled during the day. He usually forgets lunchtime and skips dinner, so..."

- "Don't worry, JJ,"- Penelope nodded, and we all felt our heartbreak a little thinking about all the things JJ did in her daily basics to take care of the team, and we didn't even know.

- "How are we going to survive without you?"- I mumbled, pouting. JJ chuckled and held my hand.

- "You are a rock, and you will do a fantastic job keeping this team together. Just, please, can you and Spencer start dating now?"

I wide opened my eyes and stared at JJ. The comment surprised me. I shouldn't, 'cos the whole "you and Spencer should start dating" joke was getting old. Only this time, JJ wasn't joking. She held both my hands and looked right into my eyes.

- "(Y/N), he loves you"- I was about to argue with her, but she covered my mouth with her Cheetos smelling hand.

- "Don't say a word! Spencer loves you so much you really must be blind not to see it. And I know you love him too. It's implied in all the little things you do for him every day. So don't take it for granted. Don't think this will last forever 'cos look at me! A week ago, I was happily working at the BAU, and now I'm drinking at my goodbye party! So don't waste any more time! You are in love with Spencer, and he loves you! It doesn't take a profiler to see it. So please! Act on it!"

There was a dramatic silence after. I didn't know how to break it. I could just joke around, but somehow, it didn't feel right. It had been too quiet for too long, and that made everything harder to deny. Finally, Emily put her hand on mine, just like JJ was still doing, and smiled at me.

- "There's nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/N). You are not the first person to fall for her best friend."

- "And the Junior G Man loves you so much,"- Penelope added, landing her hand on our hands too.

- "As his friend"- I corrected and sighed. I guess that was it. After three years, I could probably start facing my feelings in front of my friends.

- "No, (Y/N)"- Garcia tried to argue, but I shook my head and stood up, 'cos all that sudden attention and affection was bothering me.

- "PG, I was in Hawaii with the man, sharing a room, walking around in a bikini, and he didn't do anything."

- "That's because he is shy!"- Emily excused him right away.

- "My bikini leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. Do you know what he said when he first saw me on it?"- I looked at my friend and poured us another round of tequila- "And I quote, "I don't think I brought enough books. This one is too interesting."

I air quoted with my fingers as we spoke, and the three of them looked at me, speechless. I made my point and drank my shot, feeling the alcohol burning down my throat. My friends opened their mouths but didn't produce a word. I sighed and looked at them.

- "But he hates the beach, and he took you there anyway,"- Emily pointed out

- "Did he give you his speech about how he hates sandy food?"- JJ asked me, and I chuckled, nodding.

- "And about pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, and of course, the real reason he hates the beach: drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces."

- "And the man took you to the beach!"- Penelope argued.

- "But he didn't do anything! he didn't make his move, didn't even hold my hand!!"- I nearly shouted- "That's why, among a lot of reasons, is how I know Spencer is not interested in me! If only I'd tell you all the shit we've been through!"

- "Please!! Tell us!!"- Garcia begged and grabbed one of my legs- "I won't live another day 'cos I won't be able to deal with the mystery!"

- "No! 'cos you are gonna tell Morgan"- I slurred- "And he is going to embarrass and tease my honey bunny, and my honey bunny is gonna get all nervous and nervous around me, and we are never going to..."- I stopped talking and looked at my friends. I was sharing too much.

- "(Y/N)?"- Prentiss looked at me, but I just shook my head and looked down.

- "I think I better go home."

- "No, you can't drive like this,"- JJ argued immediately and held my hand- "I'm not gonna let you go intoxicated. Will is gonna come pick me up, and we'll drop you in your place."

I nodded at her and stayed still. My friends smiled at me, and slowly very slowly, I leaned on JJ's shoulder and rested my head on it.

- "I love you, boo,"- I whispered, and she giggled- "I don't think I'll stay sane without you there with us anymore."

- "Hotch is gonna manage to get her back,"- Penelope assured me, and I just nodded.

- "Meanwhile, we won't replace you, and if anyone tries to push someone new into the team, we are not gonna take them,"- I added, feeling JJ's hand holding mine.

- "Don't be mean with people just 'cos you miss me. If there's a new teammate, it won't be their fault I was pushed out of the BAU."

- "But, JJ,"- I tried to argue, but she shook her head right away.

- "No, (Y/N). You can't be mean to people just because."

Clearly, my friend hoped I could be the better person. The simple question was: did I want to be the better person? Right there, drunk and sad, the answer was no.

Spencer's point of view

I kept finding myself awake at four in the morning, walking around my apartment, not able to read or to write anything. For the last months, at least twice or three times each week, I would stay awake, no matter how tired I felt, and I would haunt my own apartment, listening to my vinyl records.

The sudden lack of sleep wasn't really something weird in me. I have always been nocturnal. Besides, the news of JJ's departure had hit us all pretty hard. I had already shared my share of tears and tried to manage the fury that caused me to know we were helpless to the government's decisions. There was nothing we could do, neither us, Hotch, or even Strauss. Not that she would if she could.

My family was in crisis, and all we could do was hope for the best and stay together.

It was scary losing JJ. It made me think of all the things that could go wrong every day on the field daily. It was bad that we could get hurt or even die on our work. But that they divided us that way made no sense. Like Rossi said: our loss was someone else's winning, and in the FBI, no one cared if we lost.

I poured myself a cup of herbal tea and inhaled the smell of it. It smelled like home. Like (Y/N). She had some of her favorite teas in my apartment. She had a bunch of all her things there, actually. When mom visited, she thought we were living together. She is still sure we are dating and that I don't wanna tell her. I don't longer argue with her about it. It's useless, and it somehow feels good to imagine in another world. It was actually true.

That year my feelings for my best friend had grown in a way that made it all more difficult to deal with. I didn't just love her. I was in love with her. She was in everything I did, in each and every one of my thoughts. I could hear her laughter in my head, like a record playing my favorite song over and over again.

When she was out there in the field, I couldn't stop running all the probabilities of her getting hurt, and most of the time, I would do my best to keep her safe, knowing it could somehow interfere with the case.

Hotch had called me to his office a few times, aware something was going with me. He could read it on my face, I guess. It was scary to know everybody could read my feelings for (Y/N) but her. And it was sad to think of the worst: that she knew how much I loved her, but she didn't feel the same, and she was just being my friend 'cos she was never going to be anything else but my friend.

I drank my tea and hummed the song that sounded in my house at four in the morning: Love is a losing game. Seemed pretty accurate for my mood. I remember the day I got that vinyl. We were out with (Y/N), Frank, and Lu, looking for a present for Mikey's birthday, and we ended up in a record store, getting a million vinyl records for ourselves.

- "Are you getting all those?"- (Y/N) asked me and looked at the seven albums in my hand.

- "Yes, why? I can't?"- I answered and raised an eyebrow.

- "Sassy!"- she giggled and grabbed them- "You can get all the albums you want. But I have to give my approval first. No, you are not getting this!"- she grabbed The Beatles' Revolver and left it aside.

- "What? Why? It's only one I need to complete my collection."

- "I know, but when you get it, you'll force me to listen to it, and I don't like the Beatles,"- she argued, and I just shook my head, taking the album again.

- "Sorry, chipmunk, I'm buying it."

- "Fine. I won't go to your house for the next couple of weeks then."

- "Why don't you tell me which album you wanna listen to when you are in my house then?"- I looked at her, smiling at me and looking for a record on the shelves.

- "This! You need some Amy in your life."

And I did. Now, at four in the morning, all alone walking around, I could see her in my apartment, singing along to her favorite songs while cooking dinner, feeling at home. I wished she was there, with me, doing nothing. Watching tv, or reading. Just hanging out. I knew it wasn't healthy being in love with my friend, seeing her every day, and also hanging out with her every chance I got. But even when I knew she was never going to love me the way I did, I was going to take every chance I had to enjoy her company. If that was all I was going to get.

My phone took me from my thoughts, and I quickly walked to my room to get it. I thought it was Hotch announcing a case, but it was JJ.

- "Hey! JJ, everything ok? Is Henry ok?"

- "Yes, hi Spence. We are all ok."

- "It's four in the morning."

- "Sorry I woke you up... I just..." - she made a pause and sighed at the other side of the line- "Spencer, you know I love you."

- "I love you too. You are one of my best friends. Is everything ok?"

- "Yes, I just wanted to... remember a bunch of years ago, when you asked me to that football game?"

A million years had passed since the one and only time I had asked JJ out. It was the only move I tried to do on her, and I failed incredibly. It was awkward, and she had no idea it was a date, so she invited Garcia to come along. I was so embarrassed I never even mentioned that single event ever again, and our friendship grew after.

- "Yes, I remember, JJ. Why?"

- "When you asked me out, did you have a crush on me?"

- "JJ, are you drunk?"- I had to ask 'cos that conversation was starting to scare me.

- "Yes, but that's not why I'm talking about this. Just answer the questions, Spence. When you asked me out on that date, did you have a crush on me?"

- "Yes, I did."

I closed my eyes, embarrassed to face feelings that were far forgotten.

- "You see, I had a crush on you too back then,"- JJ said and chuckled- "But neither of us acted on it, and life continued, and now I'm in love with Will, and we have a baby, and you are his godfather."

Of all the things I thought I would listen to that day, never in a million years, I imagined I would hear JJ drunk telling me she had a crush on me when we first met.

- "Now, do you want that to happen again?"- she asked, and I didn't get it, 'cos I was still trying to process what I had just heard. So I might have had a relationship with her if only I had said something, act on it. Kiss her, ask her out again?

- "What?"

- "Spence. Do you want to miss the chance to be with the girl you like?"

- "No, but JJ, what are you talking about?"

She sighed, frustrated, and used that tone of voice with me, that very maternal specific tone of voice she used to explain things she knew were hard for me to follow.

- "When you like someone, Spence, you have to tell her. 'Cos sometimes, life gets in the way, and if you don't do what you have to do to be happy, no one will do it for you."

- "Are you ok, JJ?"

- "Yes, Spence, I'm ok. I'm home with Will. We just got here after dropping (Y/N) off her place."

- "How was she?"

- "She might have had a few too many drinks, but she'll be ok in the morning. Maybe she'd appreciate it if you brought her coffee and donuts."

- "She doesn't like donuts,"- I corrected her- "She likes cupcakes and brownies."

- "Sorry. Coffee and cupcakes... just tell her you love her, Spence. She deserves to know."

I held my breath and closed my eyes. I didn't get why JJ was telling me that, but I knew I didn't want to talk about it. So I said good night and hung up.

What was the point of telling me we could have been a couple of years had passed already? Why didn't she say a thing before? Or even better, why didn't she ever say a word about it at all? So I missed the chance to be happy with her. Great. One more regret to add to my list.

I laid on my bed and tried to remember that date. I was so nervous that day, my hands shook inside my pockets as I walked to JJ's door. She looked beautiful that day, especially when she looked at me and announced she had invited Penelope to join us.

That was when I realized she would never see me as a proper date, just like a friend. And I learned to make my peace with that over the years. My crush for JJ lasted a few more months, but it vanished when I fell for (Y/N). What if she had never joined the team? Would I have been in love with JJ forever? Jeniffer always made me feel like her little brother, and I guess that's the mechanic that works for us. We were good friends ever since we met, and yes, I had a crush on her, but we work more like siblings than anything else.

What was the point in telling me I had missed a chance with her now? I just couldn't see it.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The next few weeks were us trying to survive without JJ. The team was making the best it could, but it was hard. Penelope took the lead during the second case without JJ. She turned into our tech analyst and communication liaison, only to collapse under the pressure of having two roles.

No one was going to replace JJ. We all knew it. Literally, no one, 'cos Hotch decided he and Garcia were going to split the job, and we were all going to collaborate as much as we could, 'cos we were a team. A family. And that's what families do.

And families were the target of the unsub we were hunting the day everything changed. Again. I hadn't recovered from the departure of JJ when Rossi and Hotch walked to the bullpen and introduced us to Agent Trainee Ashley Seaver.

My nemesis.

- "Agent trainee Seaver"- Rossi smiled at her like a proud father and looked at us as we stood up, wondering who she was- "Supervisory Special Agent Prentiss, (Y/L/N), and Morgan."

- "I've heard so much about the three of you,"- she said with the sweetest tone of voice I had ever heard. Something about that felt odd.

- "I hope it is all good- Morgan flirted right away, of course."

- "Very, sir."

- "Anything specific? I mean about me in particular?"- I turned to him and failed in holding back my chuckles.

- "Please, don't encourage him, or he will never stop talking,"- I said, and Derek elbowed me playfully. Seaver smiled at us and even blushed a little bit. She was nervous.

- "Agent Seaver is on loan to us from the academy while she is remedial training with an injury."

Hotch announced. And my stomach tightened right away. There was something wrong with that whole scene. I could feel it in my guts. But I didn't know why?

- "Concussion. Hand to hand got a little out of control."- Seaver explained and kept a silly smile on her face.

- "How's the other guy?"- Prentiss asked.

- "Don't ask."

- "I was remediated in the academy also,"- Spencer said, walking over us, and suddenly I understood why I had a bad feeling about everything.

- "Agent Seaver, Dr. Reid."

As soon as I heard Rossi say those words, there was a part of me who just wanted to hold Spencer's hand and push him away from her, even before they could say hi. She looked at him like he was eye candy, and I clenched my knuckles as I stared at the scene.

- "Uhm... What was your issue?"- she asked him, and I could see the pink on her cheek intensifying as he looked at her, confused.

- "What was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's alley. You know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."

Seaver stared at him and kept nodding, though I wondered if she was listening to what he had said. Spencer looked exceedingly handsome that day. His hair was very short for the first time in years, and he still had no idea how to comb it, so it was all over the place, making him look as hot as fuck.

I was so in love with him, I didn't know what to do with those feelings at all. It was hard working with Reid at that point. I just wanted to kiss him.

- "Agent Seaver's going to accompany us to New Mexico,"- Aaron announced, and I couldn't help but question him right away.

- "She is?"

- "As a consultant."- he assured me.

- "On?"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Hotch, wondering what a trainee agent could help us with as a consultant.

- "She has a unique perspective,"- Rossi tried to explain, but it sounded like bullshit.

- "They don't know?"- Seaver turned to the elderly agents, and they shook their heads.

- "Well, we weren't sure how you wanted to,"- David whispered.

- "Uh... Seaver's not my original last name. It's my mother's maiden name. Mine used to be Beauchamp. My father is Charles Beauchamp"- Ashley was supposed to explain the circumstances of her consultancy to the whole team, but she just looked at Spencer as she spoke.

- "As in the Redmond ripper, Charles Beauchamp?"- he asked her, and suddenly, it clicked. It was like my whole body was telling me I couldn't be close to her for a reason.

- "That's him,"- she whispered and kept her eyes on my best friend as he continued talking.

- "He killed 25 women over 10 years in rural North Dakota. I think that you caught him, right, Rossi?"- and David nodded.

- "Hotch was on that team, too."

- "Based on her life experience, we were hoping that agent Seaver might recognize something in the family dynamics inside the community that could be helpful. We have a plane waiting,"- Hotch announced and looked at us, but none of us said a word.

I kept my eyes glued at my feet the whole time Aaron talked. Then, Spencer nodded and walked with Seaver and Rossi out to the hangar. I couldn't even blink. I think I was in shock.

- "Her father was a serial killer?"- Prentiss asked Hotch, not getting what he was thinking.

- "That's definitely a different set of parameters,"- Morgan added. Neither of them was sold on the idea, which made me feel a little bit better.

- "I don't want her presence to get us sidetracked. It's a long shot that she's gonna see anything helpful. We work it like any other case,"- Hotch was clear, and Prentiss and Morgan nodded.

- "You got it."

But I disagreed with that.

- "(Y/N), is everything ok?"- Aaron asked me, and I tried my best to lie and be cool.

- "Yeah, I'm ok."

- "Ok. We work this like any other case. Wheels up in twenty."

But everything was far from being ok.

I sat next to Spencer on the jet, and we reviewed the case files together. Hotch briefed us, and we all pretended it wasn't weird having Seaver there. And I guess we had to pretend it wasn't odd knowing her dad was a serial killer.

- "You are very young, (Y/N),"- she said and smiled at me. She was sitting across from Spencer and me, and you could tell she had been trying to join the conversation for a few minutes now.

-" Twenty eight,"- I answered and looked at the files again.

- "And you, doctor?"

- "You can call me Reid. I'm twenty eight too,"- Spencer cut her a short, awkward, and nervous smile, and I turned to him.

- "Honey, did I leave my Mets jersey at your house?"- it was the only question that came to my mind at that minute. It was completely random, but somehow it showed a part of our dynamic that Ashley didn't know. Our friendship. Our closeness.

- "Yes, I found it last night,"- he answered and sipped his coffee- "I was gonna bring it over, but then I remembered you always borrow all my sweaters when you are home or when you stay over, so I thought maybe it was a good idea to keep it at my place."

- "I don't know, Batsy. It's my favorite sweatshirt- I raised an eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure I even flirted a little bit."

- "So? You need to keep one there."

- "But I like wearing your clothes when we are at your place. It's extra large and extra comfy."

- "Is that why you keep taking my sweaters back to your house?"- he asked and chuckled- "Last Sunday, I found four of my sweaters in your closet."

- "Sorry, I'm not even sorry,"- I said and laughed- "And what were you doing in my closet?"

- "Lucy, Ricky, can we focus on the case?"- Morgan asked and waved at us with one silly grin on his face- "We love hearing your adorable daily adventures, but we've got a psycho killer to catch."

Spencer blushed and flustered right away. I stuck out my tongue at Morgan and just shook my head. The way Seaver looked at Reid was still driving me nuts, but I felt I had shown her he was mine, childishly.

It's embarrassing to think that's not the most childish thing I did around her those days. Or in the weeks to follow. But I didn't like Ashley, and I didn't want her around my team. And it wasn't just her constant flirting with Spencer. It was the fact her father had killed my mother's sister when she was in college, and I was making my best effort to keep that fact aside from work. My personal life had to stay out of the FBI, especially when working a case.

I had to do some serious mental work trying to remember it wasn't Ashley's fault her father was a sick bastard. She hadn't hurt my family, and her father had ruined her life too. It wasn't her fault.

But one thing is knowing. Another thing is being rational about it. Spoiler: I wasn't so rational about it.

- "So, (Y/N). Do you like working at the BAU?"- Ashley asked me and looked at me through the rearview mirror. We were in the SUV, and Prentiss was driving. I was in the back seat, trying to ignore her, but she made it impossible.

- "Yes, very much,"- I answered and nodded, not taking my eyes from the window.

- "Everybody is very friendly,"- Seaver added and made a pause. I don't know if she wanted me to say something or if she was trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say.

- "Yes, they are,"- I humored her, and she quickly responded.

- "Are you and Spencer dating?"- I could feel the blood raising my cheeks as she spoke. And Prentiss flashed me a look through the mirror as Ashley continued talking.

- "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I just wondered because of the fraternization policy."

- "Right. Sure. Of course."

Those three words were meant to let Ashley know I wasn't buying her bullshit, So I literally spit them.

- "Spencer is my best friend. We are not dating."

Facing that simple truth had never been harder before, especially after how I saw Ashley's face light up.

- "You just seem to be so close."

- "Oh, they are close,"- Emily smiled at me and winked- "They are so close, they sometimes freak us out."

- "We freak you out?"- I raised an eyebrow and carefully hit her arm, pretending to be upset. But honestly, I was glad she was teasing me.

- "I am just saying, we are all pretty suspicious about you two. I am actually surprised you didn't share rooms tonight. They usually share rooms."- Emily explained to Seaver.

- "He was paired with Morgan,"- I pouted and looked at my phone. I thought maybe I could send him a funny text. I actually wanted to hang out with him.

- "He is very nice,"- Ashley added- "I mean, everybody is nice."

- "Yes, you mentioned it"

I was clearly not being nice. Seaver nodded and looked at the files again. I assumed she was trying to find a way to keep asking about Spencer, and I was making my best not to kill her.

- "Working with a genius must be somehow intimidating,"- she said after a few minutes. Damn it, she wasn't going to let that subject go.

- "It's fun working with Spencer,"- Prentiss said, trying to humor Seaver. And mostly, I guess trying to ease my mood and keep me from killing the trainee agent.

- "I'm sure it is,"- Seaver added. I hated her.

- "He is more than just a genius, he is a nerd."- Emily pointed out and chuckled at her words, making Seaver giggle too. I looked at my book again, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on it at all. He was my nerd. Mine.

- "Well, it's very refreshing to be with a group who trusts and works so well together,"- she added- "I had never felt less judged and more welcome in my entire life."

I know I should have felt sorry for her. But I honestly couldn't. That was the day I realized I wasn't the good person I thought I was. There was a part of me that was a scumbag. I'm guessing knowing that is pretty helpful and positive 'cos you can work on your flaws. But I wasn't planning on working on anything at that minute, though. I just wanted to break Seaver's face.

Spencer's point of view

I didn't like working without JJ. I've never been good with change, and that was a massive alteration of our routine. I missed her, and adding Ashley to the team made things even weirder for me, even for a case. I didn't want to be judgemental, but her father was a serial killer. Of course, that would make things weird.

Besides, everybody kept bugging me, teasing me, trying to see if I liked Seaver. Penelope called while we were on the case and started taunting me, saying she knew I thought Ashley was cute. I could see she was beautiful, but I couldn't see her that way. And I didn't want anyone to say those kinds of things around (Y/N).

Why did I care so much?

I didn't want to face it 'cos I knew it was completely platonic, but I didn't want (Y/N) to think I had a crush on Seaver. I knew my best friend didn't have romantic feelings for me, and I also knew I wasn't going to make a move on her or anything. But I didn't want things to change more than they already had. And most of all, I didn't want anything to alter my dynamic with (Y/N).

But at the same time, somehow, it felt everything was already different between us.

- "Hey, honey bunny,"- (Y/N) walked to me and handed me a cup of coffee- "I thought you might need one of these."

- "You are a lifesaver,"- I whispered and sipped the cup. It was perfect.

We were on the jet on our way back home. The whole team was mostly quiet. The mood was weird. Ashley had done something quite reckless earlier and nearly got herself killed. She walked to the unsub's house all alone, not knowing he was our guy. She almost died, and none of us can even imagine what went through her head to do such a thing.

Rossi and Hotch walked to her. (Y/N) looked at me, and I could read on her face that both of us knew what was going to happen.

Ashley was alone when David sat in front of her, and Hotch stood in the middle of the aisle. Maybe that had been insensitive of us. Neither of us tried to contain her. Neither of us really knew her that well. Or at all, as a matter of fact.

- "You were not supposed to go off on your own."- Hotch went straight to the point.

- "I know,"- she whispered, and I could see how (Y/N)'s face changed. I tried to read her, but all I was able to see was... anger? I had to be wronged. She had no reason to be mad at Ashley.

- "You could have been killed,"- Hotch crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her.

- "I know that, too."

- "Why, Ashley? You're smarter than that"- Rossi sounded like a worried father. I didn't look at him 'cos I kept my eyes on (Y/N)'s, still trying to read her emotions. But what I saw made no sense. She really looked like she was angry at Ashley. Like she hated her.

- "I never got to apologize to any of the victims. The families of the women my father killed. I thought if I could just apologize to one family that had been hurt that way..."

And that was when (Y/N) snapped. She jumped from her seat and walked to Seaver. Aaron and David looked at her surprised, and Morgan turned to me, taking off his headphones. Neither he nor Prentiss got what was happening until that moment.

- "Ok. Shoot!"- (Y/N) sat right in front of Seaver, next to David, and looked at her. But she didn't get it.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You just said you wanted to apologize to one of the families. So go ahead. Try."

The silence on the jet was so deep and awkward it felt no one was ever going to talk again.

- "I'm sorry, (Y/N). But I don't get what you are implying,"- Ashley's voice was a whisper. I knew she was sad and affected, embarrassed even. But I also knew (Y/N), and I could read it on her face. She wasn't joking.

- "You said you wanted to apologize to the family of one of your dad's victims, so go ahead. Apologize to me."

My first instinct was to stand up, which I did. But I froze and didn't take a step closer to (Y/N) when I noticed the severe and cold look in her eyes. I didn't know what she was talking about. But I knew she wasn't bluffing.

- "Why should I... apologize to you?"- Ashley asked her, and her voice broke at a certain point, probably scared of the answer.

- "Your dad killed my mother's older sister. She was in college,"- (Y/N) spit each word with hate and looked at Ashley, waiting for her reply. But Seaver didn't know what to do. She widened her eyes and stayed still. She barely kept her breathing steady.

- "(Y/N), maybe we should let Seaver rest,"- Hotch landed a hand on her shoulder, but my friend shook her head.

- "No, Hotch. By making that choice, she put everyone at risk,"- (Y/N) didn't take her eyes from Ashley as she spoke- "As far as I remember when you are at the academy, they teach you that in the field, we are responsible to and for your team."

- "(Y/N)... I had no idea..."- Ashley tried to apologize, I could see it, but it was clear she wasn't going to win that argument- "I am so sorry."

- "I don't know, Seaver. Did you think saying "sorry" would make those families feel better? 'Cos it ain't working here. "Sorry" won't make my mom stop feeling guilty about what happened. And, if things had gotten ugly back there, "sorry" wouldn't have made your mistake go away in case anyone would have gotten hurt. So no. Sorry doesn't help. Maybe it can ease your conscience, but when you really fuck it up, it never makes things better."

(Y/N) stood up and walked back to her seat in front of me. I let her pass and didn't say a word. I knew she wouldn't want to talk about it there. And, of course, Seaver didn't say a word. She just stood up and walked to the back of the jet, to the bathroom. Rossi and Hotch looked at each other and then looked at me.

David poured a glass of whiskey and walked to (Y/N) slowly. He didn't say a word, he just handed it to her, and she just took it and sipped it with shaky hands.

- "Thanks,"- she whispered, and Rossi nodded. Hotch raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. He just walked to his seat and opened a case file.

I moved back to my seat and opened my satchel. I had run out of candies earlier that day, so I didn't have much to give to her that could make her smile. So I picked a book and handed it to her. She took it and smiled at me kindly. I knew she was fighting back the tears, and I am sure she has held back all the emotions than being with the daughter of the man who killed her aunt since she knew who Seaver was. And she managed to do the job well. I was proud of her.

- "Wanna grab something to eat when we reach DC?"- I whispered, but for the first time ever, she shook her head.

- "I'm gonna have to catch a rain check for that dinner. I think I wanna go straight to my bed today, honey."- she sipped her glass again, and I nodded.

- "Don't worry, next time."

I was waiting for the train to go back home later that night when I saw Seaver sitting at a bench at the station, staring at her hands on her lap. I didn't see her leaving the BAU, though to be honest, I was really focused on finishing my paperwork to go home. (Y/N) had left as soon as we reached DC, but I had stayed a little longer.

I hesitated for a few seconds before I took a few steps closer and waved at Seaver. She looked at me surprised, as soon as she saw me, but didn't move. I smiled, trying to look friendly, and sat next to her.

- "Hi. What are you doing here?"- I asked her, and she shrugged.

- "I was going to go home, but I think I sat here half an hour ago and haven't been able to move,"- I turned to her and shook my head.

- "Do you want to eat something?"- after what had happened at the jet, I figured Ashley wasn't feeling so good, and maybe talking with someone could help her. She looked at me and blushed; I don't know why. But at least, she smiled and nodded.

- "Great, pizza?"

- "Pizza sounds good."

We were waiting for our food and making small talk. I kept giving Ashley pizza facts to fill the silence 'cos it was weird hanging out with Ashley. I didn't know her, really. We had worked a case together, but that didn't mean I knew her. And, of course, we had the whole jet incident. I felt a little guilty about what had happened, though it wasn't my fault at all in retrospect. I just felt like it was my job cheering her up a little bit after everything she had gone through.

- "How do you do it?"- she asked me all of a sudden- "How do you deal with the pressure of this job?"

- "You get used to it, I guess. I don't know if it's a good thing to get used to, but... it comes with the job, I think,"- I didn't know if I was doing ok comforting her. Then again, I have never been particularly good at it. Not then, not now.

- "Did you always dream about doing this?"- she asked me, and her eyes locked into mine in a way that made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

- "Y... yes. Ever since I was a kid, catching the bad guys,"- Seaver nodded and sipped her coke- "You? Why did you get into the academy?"

I regretted my question right after I asked, just 'cos I realized she might have done it to understand her father's behavior. It was only apparent that had shaped her actions.

- "I guess you know that..."- Ashley answered and smiled, her eyes looking straight into mine. I know I blushed. She is a beautiful woman, though I wasn't thinking about her that way. It was an odd feeling being observed that way.

I was glad our pizza made it to the table, and we were forced to stop talking, and I could focus on anything else but her. Not that I didn't want to look at her, but... I think the right way to explain it is to call it "uneasy." That's how I felt. I wanted to be friendly with her, she had a horrible experience consulting with the team, and I was sure she wasn't really having a good day.

- "This might sound weird, but... do you think I can call you sometime?"- Ashley asked after a few minutes. We were eating and talking about nothing important. I nearly chook at her words and looked at her, nodding.

- "Sure, why?"- I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't know why she might need to talk to me again.

- "I just think maybe you could help me with a few assignments at the academy."

- "Yeah, of course."

Ashley Seaver smiled and nodded at me, pleased. She took a sip of Sprite, and I could read her, trying to find the words to continue speaking.

- "I'm glad. I was sure you were going to say no."

- "Why?"- I furrowed my brows, confused- "I'm not a big fan of phones, but I can handle a casual phone call."

- "No, I just didn't think your girlfriend would like... I mean, I think (Y/N) hates me, and as her boyfriend, I thought you... would... I don't know."

- "I'm, we are... we,"- I was completely flustered as I tried to rearrange my thoughts. Seaver looked at me innocently and waited for my words.

- "(Y/N) isn't my girlfriend"- it bothered me to admit that simple fact. Why? 'Cos it hurt to think we looked like a couple, but we weren't. Why did Seaver think we were together?

- "Really? But..."

- "She is my best friend,"- I explained poorly. She nodded and hesitated before saying what she was thinking. It was obvious she was trying to arrange the words in her head.

- "It's just that you two... sorry, I'm overstepping,"- Ashley blushed and shook her head- "She is... strong."

- "Yes, very."

- "I think I started with the wrong foot with her."

- "Well, I don't mean to justify anything, but if your father hurt,"- I made a pause, trying to find a way to say it that wasn't so painful.

- "Killed. My father killed her aunt,"- she corrected me with a cold and monotonous tone of voice. I just nodded and sipped my water.

- "She is an amazing person,"- I don't know if I was trying to excuse (Y/N)'s earlier behavior or if I just loved her so much I needed to tell people how awesome she was.

- "I'm sure you will pass this,"- I assured her- "Once you get to know her, and she gets to know you."

- "I don't think she will give me that chance. Besides, I was just clear to assist with only one case."

- "If you want to stay, you can request your remedial training be here. And if Hotch approves it, I could talk to (Y/N). I'm sure she will like to know you better."

Why did I say all that? I had no idea.

- "Thank you, Spence. You are really sweet,"- Ashley moved closer and held my hand. I stayed very still, absolutely awkward.

- "Yeah, I don't... like... holding hands,"- I quickly moved it away and tried to smile at her. She stayed still, not understanding my reaction but trying to act normal.

- "Sorry."

- "That's ok. I'm a germaphobe, that's all."

After pizza, we left the place and said goodnight. I told Ashley I was weary (which was, in fact, the truth) and got her a cab to take her home. After that, I walked to my place. I felt like I needed to be alone for a while. My head was overwhelmed, and in the latest couple of weeks, I had severe trouble sleeping.

I had migraines that nearly blinded me. I was scared they meant I could develop the first signs of schizophrenia, like mom, 'cos they were coming more and more often. It wasn't that bad yet, the light didn't hurt my eyes, and I didn't have any sign of hallucination, but still, I knew it could be serious.

I tried to think of a reason why I might be having those severe headaches. I was eating correctly, mostly 'cos (Y/N) forced me to eat. No, she didn't force me, but she made sure I had all my meals at work, not just coffee. And usually, at the weekends, we would spend our time together, and she was a fantastic cook. So it wasn't an alimentary issue.

I wasn't sleeping well. That wasn't new, but it was getting serious. I wrote and read a lot at night 'cos I couldn't fall asleep until late. I didn't know why. I just couldn't rest. My body ached, and my brain wouldn't sleep. The only nights I could actually get some rest were the ones when (Y/N) stayed with me. It was a blessing when Hotch paired us to share rooms, 'cos I could easily fall asleep when she was around. Her presence soothed me in a way that I didn't understand. Let me put it this way, I know it might sound cheesy, but the beating of her heart set the rhythm for my own, and at night it would bring me peace.

I reached home that night and sighed. I knew I wasn't going to rest easy. (Y/N) wasn't there with me. So I made myself a cup of herbal tea, (Y/N) had a lot of those in my house, and I drank them when I missed her. The smell coming from the cup made me feel like she was close.

How pathetic I had become! But I could only share those thoughts with myself. No one knew I had feelings for her, and I was going to deny it till the end, no matter what had JJ said. I couldn't take that phone call from my mind, and on those sleepless nights, I kept overthinking and overanalyzing everything.

I got into bed with a few books and my cup of herbal tea. I took a look at my cell phone, two new messages.

- "I miss u"

(Y/N) sent, and a warm feeling spread on my chest as I imagined her whispering those words as I read them

- "Breakfast tomorrow before work?"

- "See you at seven-thirty."

I typed and sent it.

What could ever happen if I told her how much in love I am with her? I would lose her, and I'd be alone. She didn't feel that way for me. It was a fact. I was just glad she was my best friend, and I could share everything with her. Was I pathetic? Yes, very, but in a way, it felt it was just all I deserved. Not more, not less. Just being in love with a girl who didn't love me back.

At least she wasn't dating Paul anymore. I hated that guy.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer was waiting for me outside our usual coffee shop, already holding two cups of coffee. His short hair looked dreamy as she smiled and took off his sunglasses. It had to be illegal being that hot. But, seriously, how didn't he get laid? He was fucking dreamy. In the four years we had been best friends, I saw Spencer in many hairstyles, and each of them made him look like a model.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid had been a process I hadn't actually been fully aware of. But I was completely conscious I needed to hide those feelings from him and from everybody at the BAU.

Ok, fine, I had somehow faced part of those feelings in front of my drunk best buddies at Penelope's house, but I never actually confirmed anything. I had just... shared some of my frustrations, I guess.

- "Good morning, honey bunny,"- I smiled and sighed as I stood in front of Spencer, watching him grin back at me and hand me one of the coffee cups.

- "Good morning, chipmunk. Did you get some rest?"

- "Yes, I fell asleep as soon as I reached my bed. I was exhausted."

- "I'm glad you are fully rested."

- "What did you do yesterday?"

- "Nothing,"- he answered quickly and turned around- "I got you a carrot muffin to go."

- "Thank you so much. I'm starving. I didn't even have dinner yesterday."

- "Really?"

- "I told you, I reached home and crawled into my bed."

We walked outside the coffee shop in silence. Spencer bit his donuts, and I ate my muffin. It was nice and calming being with him doing domestic things in life.

I hated how much in love I was with him 'cos I knew I had to shake that feeling away. He was never going to have feelings for me. I was a regular human being, and Spencer Walter Reid was a genius. He deserved better, he was actually never to think about me that way, and I refused to ruin our friendship with those feelings.

- "So, Comic-con is coming. What are we doing this year?"- I asked as I drove us to Quantico.

- "I was thinking we should do something classic,"- he looked at me, nearly beaming on his seat- "We haven't done Star Wars yet."

- "Really?"- I frowned, confused- "All these years? Are you sure?"

- "(Y/N), eidetic memory,"- he argued, and I chuckled- "So, how do you feel about Leia?"

- "Do I have to be Leia 'cos I'm a girl?"- I asked him, and he flustered right away.

- "What? No, you can be whoever you want to be. I was just, it came to my mind... I didn't,"- I giggled and looked at him for a second.

- "I'm messing with you, Batsy. I always wanted to dress as Leia. Surprisingly, I never had. Padme once, it was a mess, but never Leia. Who are you planning to be?"

- "Maybe Luke... or Obi-Wan. Morgan suggested C3PO once."

- "If I'm Leia, you should be Han,"- I don't know why I said that out loud. I thought about it, I pictured it in my head, but I knew I shouldn't have said it. Then why did those words leave my mouth? I don't know.

- "Han Solo... yes... yeah, sure. Of course! We can pick our outfits this weekend."

- "Great! What do you think would look better? Slave Leia or classic all in white Leia?"- Spencer didn't answer. He just sipped his coffee and looked outside the window.

- "You would look good in both,"- his cellphone interrupted our conversations, and I thought it might be a case. But I was so wrong, it hurt.

- "Hello? Oh, hi, Ashley,"- I nearly hit the break as soon as I heard him saying her name, but instead, I turned around and looked at him.

- "Good, yes. On my way to work with (Y/N). Oh, that's good."

I didn't care what she was saying. I just needed to know why that bitch was calling him. I was blind in jealousy, and I was having a hard time hiding it.

- "Really? Emily? That's... that's great. Sure, we'll see you around, gotta go. Bye."

- "What the fuck?"- I swear, I didn't think what I was saying. Those words just slip through my lips straight from my guts. I hated Seaver.

- "That was Ashley."

- "Figured when you said "Hi Ashley." What? Are you best friends with her now?"

- "What? No! No way! She just wanted to say hi... and... She.... asked for my number 'cos she wanted to help her with some of the academy's projects,"- Spencer was so nervous he actually stuttered as he answered my simple question.

- "Of course, she did,"- my voice was bitter and hurt, but most of all, ironic. And I don't know if Spencer didn't want to understand me or actually didn't get the hint, but he just continued talking.

- "She wanted to tell me she requested her remedial training be at the BAU."

- "What?!"- that wasn't subtle. I actually yelled- "I'm gonna have to see her again?"

- "If Hotch approves..."

- "Fuck!! That's awful!!"- I hit the wheel, frustrated.

- "She's not a bad person, (Y/N). Her dad was a murderer, but that doesn't mean..."- I turned to look at Spencer for a second, and he just shut up- "Sorry."

- "I don't like her, Spencer."

- "Yes, I know."

- "Her dad killed my aunt!!"

- "I know..."

- "And on top of that, that bitch is..."

I had to bite my lips and focus on the road, actually holding my breath for a few seconds, just not to open my mouth and ruin it all.

The main reason why I hated Ashley Seaver wasn't just because of what her father had done. That itself was enough to keep her away. But on top of that, she was flirting with Spencer. She wasn't even subtle about it; she was nearly all over him. I saw her! She wanted him, and he had no idea! He was blind to her attention. Unless he liked it. Did he? Shit, I hoped not.

- "She what?"- Spencer whispered, scared of my reaction.

- "She plays the pity card the whole time. Bad things happen to all of us. You don't have to make it who you are, she does, and she expects sympathy."

I grabbed my muffin and took a big bite of it. Spencer sighed and stayed quiet for a moment, giving me space to decompress, I think.

- "Did you know the origins of carrot cake are disputed by many countries?"- I looked at Spencer, and he nodded- "Many food historians believe carrot cake originated from the English recipe of carrot puddings, eaten by Europeans in the Middle Ages when sugar and sweeteners were expensive, and many people used carrots as a substitute for sugar."

- "My mom would fight all those historians and convince them she invented it. Her carrot cake is the best."

- "And I would agree, the cake she baked for your last birthday was amazing."- I nodded and heard him chuckle as I kept my eyes on the road. I wanted to focus on the memories of my last birthday and how fun it was, but something was bugging me.

- "And why did she call you to tell you what she wanted to do?"- I parked the car outside the BAU and turned to Spencer. He opened his mouth, but no word came from it. So I asked him again.

- "Honey, why did Seaver call you to announce she would take the remedial training at the BAU?"

- "It... might... had been my idea,"- he whispered and held his satchel tight against his body. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it.

- "Why on earth did you do that, Spencer?!"- I shouted as I got out of the car, grabbed my purse, my clean go bag in case we had a case, and started walking towards the building.

- "It wasn't like a suggestion. She just..."

- "I can't believe it!!"

- "It doesn't have to be that bad! It's just for a few weeks..."

- "Hopefully, Hotch won't accept."

- "(Y/N), come on,"- Spencer held my hand and stopped me- "This is not like you. Yeah, you don't like her, but you are making it a big deal, and it's not."

- "I'm starting to think you are crushed on her,"- I didn't want to say those words. They just slipped.

- "What!? Why? No!! I'm not!"- the high pitch on Spencer's voice was a clear sign of how uncomfortable he was with the conversation.

- "Then why are you defending her?"

- "I am not! I'm just saying maybe you are acting a little bit... irrational about this whole thing. She hasn't done anything bad."

- "Other than jeopardizing the whole case yesterday?"

- "Right, other than that..."

I felt Spencer's hand in mine, and I swear, I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt. It kept sending shivers all over my body. His thumb rubbed small circles on my skin, probably trying to calm me down, and it worked. I followed it with my eyes for a second as I took a few deep breaths and nodded.

- "Ok, I won't make a big deal if she stays."

- "Thank you."

- "Just... don't ask me to be her friend."

- "You don't have to be her friend."

Spencer stood in front of me and smiled. I swear all I could think of was kissing him. And a part of me felt it was getting harder and harder to resist. He put on his sunglasses and kept his hand in mine for a moment until Penelope's voice took us from our little bubble.

- "Good morning, my wonder babies!! Ready to fight crime?"

I actually didn't know what I was getting into.

Hotch had taken the day off. We were around the one-year anniversary of Haley's death, and according to what Rossi explained to us, Jack wasn't feeling so good. It was said it would be just a day or two, but I had the feeling it might be a couple of weeks. Hotch would always put himself second, but he would do whatever it took to keep him safe when it came to his son.

Morgan had been asked to take a trip to Petersburg Federal Correctional Complex to do a risk assessment on a case, so Spencer, Prentiss, and I were in the bullpen. Garcia was in her office, and Rossi was in a meeting with Strauss. I'd say it was a very calm morning, catching up with all the pending paperwork we had. Spencer had just gotten me a cup of coffee when I heard Seaver's cheerful voice.

- "Hi guys!"- she walked in with a big smile and waved- "How are you?"

Spencer looked at me as we all said our hellos. I could almost read "Please, be nice" written all over his face, and for a moment, I was willing to do as told. I didn't want him to suspect why I was so annoyed by her after all.

- "I talked to Hotch"- Emily smiled at Seaver and moved a chair for her- He signed off your remedial training, and I'll be your training agent. I'll supervise your work. I already told Rossi too, so it's official.

Ashley jumped from her chair and hugged Emily. I rolled my eyes and stared at the file on my desk. I really wasn't ready to deal with her. I wasn't prepared to deal with someone trying to steal Spencer from me.

Ok, Spencer wasn't mine to keep, but we had been inseparable for four years, and I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want to lose him.

I had never been ready to deal with Spencer dating other girls. The few times girls had hit on him had been awful. Once, Morgan took him to a club when we were on a case, 'cos the unsub was picking his victims there, and he taught him how to pick up girls. The bartender ended up giving him her number 'cos my dorky best friend was charming. Derek still remembered that moment from time to time, quoting it as "The day he turned Spencer into a man."

I loved Derek, but fuck, I hated him sometimes.

- "Welcome to the team,"- Spencer waved at Seaver from his desk and turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

- "Yeah, welcome,"- I added and cut her a short smile.

- "I'm thrilled to join you guys for a few weeks. I always dreamt of being here. I'm ready for making it up after the last case."

- "Don't be so hard on yourself,"- Prentiss interrupted her and smiled friendly- "You remained calm under pressure, and the case was solved. That's all that matters."

I had to control myself not to snort after Emily's words. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on my desk like I had done before. I was so focused on it that I could have actually developed telekinesis skills and moved the freaking file with my eyes.

- "I just wanted to say thank you to all of you,"- Seaver's voice was soft, in a mix of fear, excitement, and... something else I couldn't read.

- "Especially you, Spencer. I really enjoyed our talk last night, and I have the feeling I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Thank you for the pizza. I owe you dinner."

- "Don't, it was nothing,"- Spencer flustered and stood up quickly, grabbing his pile of files and walking away, arguing he needed to ask Garcia something.

I did my best not to move a muscle. I didn't want Seaver to know how much I hated the fact she had shared what seemed to be a lovely evening with Spencer. One he didn't actually mention when we talked about what we had done the previous evening. Why did he decide to keep me in the dark? I couldn't understand that. Maybe he just didn't want me to know he actually had feelings for Seaver. Maybe he had asked her out, and because he knew I hated her (though he really didn't know why), he decided not to tell me what was going on.

I had been wasting all that time in love with Spencer. I knew I would never act on those feelings, and clearly, he didn't have feelings for me. So... maybe it was time to let him go.

How could I let Spencer Reid go when I never actually had him?

–

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Spencer taglist

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General Taglist

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–

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Next update: June 16th, 2021

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☆ characters: radio dj!woong & script writer!you ☆ genre: secret admirer au, college au, fluff, angst ☆ summary: it’s a story about a popular boy who has a secret admirer - except that you’re not the one who mustered up the courage to put her feelings in words ☆ words: 13,5k ☆ also: i’d like to dedicate this story to @dat-town ♥ merry christmas, love! 🎄 ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois

Fridays were the most tiring days of the spring semester, but Woong wouldn’t have had them any other way even if he could have changed his morning seminar to an afternoon one or had a long enough break between his classes around lunchtime to eat at any other restaurant than the ramen place he was unhealthily frequent at. What if he had changed one unpleasant thing in his day and all the good ones had gotten altered too? 

Listening to his professor’s lifeless voice at 9AM while he was talking about music theory might have been draining, but Woong usually sat right in front of you and there were only a few more entertaining phenomena on campus than your bickering with Woojin. He genuinely doubted the two of you were aware of how loud you could be, but he didn’t intend to enlighten either of you. His mornings would have been definitely duller without you two and your ridiculously creative ways to put your friend back in his place without cursing.

The highlight of his ridiculously short lunch break was Donghyun who had dance practice those mornings, which meant he always ate his entire body weight in chicken ramen while Woong slurped on his large bowl of beef ramen, giggly. Their conversations were diverse, but somehow, Woojin and you always came up in them in the most random ways. Like last Friday when you had been late from your morning class and rushed into the auditorium in pink pajama pants. It had been a story too fun to not share until Donghyun had told him it had been his fault that you had overslept. He hadn’t known you were the type of person who offered emotional support video calls to her friends when they needed someone to keep them on track while working on an assignment, but somehow it hadn’t surprised him that much. He was convinced you didn’t have a single mean bone in your body.

Stretching his sore body while waiting for your late night brainstorming session to continue (then finally end), Woong read through the script draft you had given him and Daehwi before you had left for the bathroom. It wasn’t finalized yet, only containing the outline of Tuesday’s radio show and a few ideas for the monthly special segment, but it was well written and neat as always. One look at it was enough for him to know you had worked hard to save as much time for the three of you as possible. He was hopeful you would all be able to leave the studio around 11PM.

Woong’s eyes widened in surprise and a silent oh sound fell from his lips when he noticed a pastel yellow envelope among the disorganized sheets of paper. His gaze strayed towards his co-host’s pile, but he saw no suspicious letter in front of Daehwi.

‘Hey, did anyone come into the studio while I was at the toilet?’ He asked although he knew it was ridiculous. It was already past the last lecture because the boy next to him was unlucky enough to attend Mr. Choi’s Microeconomic Theory I. instead of Mr. Nam’s, so it was very unlikely that random students wandered around the building. Not to mention that you would have been royally screwed if anything had happened to the studio’s equipment, so one of you always stayed in the room even if you all needed a restroom break.

There was no way someone had sneaked inside to slip this letter in his script.

‘No. I was on the phone with Hyewon, but I’d have seen if someone had walked in that door,’ the younger boy said before his gaze shifted from Woong’s pouty face to the envelope in his hands. ‘Why?’

The older boy looked down at the letter, too, and shrugged. He wasn’t sure whether he should have read it in private or he was allowed to open it in front of his friend, but he was intrigued; he was more curious than worried or scared.

So he sucked in his lower lip and picked the seal flap’s edge open, bewitched by the flowery scent of the paper the envelope hid.

Despite his rather naive personality - his friends never failed to jump on the opportunity when they could call him out on his childlike innocence -, Woong knew it was a love letter even before he took the paper in his hands and his gaze fell on the printed letters.

His secret admirer addressed him with a cute nickname and made a list of those things they liked about him - things he would have never thought anyone could have found attractive -, then finished the message with a promise of future letters. There was nothing that could have indicated who had liked him so much, which was disappointing. His only clue was the fact that they listened to the uni radio because that was only available on campus.

‘Do I wanna know?’ Daehwi asked, making Woong realize that he might have been sulking a bit too visibly. Should he have shown the letter to him in case he recognized the writing style or something? The thought made him blush furiously. The letter’s content was too personal; he didn’t want to give him a reason to tease him, either.

‘Nah, it’s noth–’

‘I’m sorry it took so long,’ you tore the door open with an apologetic smile, drawing both of their attention to you effortlessly. Your clothes were disheveled and your hair fell into your face in a couple of messy locks. Still, you looked pretty with your loose ponytail and rosy cheeks (at least, to Woong). ‘I had to run up to the fourth floor for these, but I brought one for each of you,’ you explained with theatrical hand gestures, careful not to shake the energy drinks up too much.

‘Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,’ Daehwi exclaimed, reaching for the grape flavored drink while you slid the mango one towards the other boy.

‘Sorry, I couldn’t find your favorite. But I saw you yawning while we were reading through the listeners’ messages, so drink it up. There’s no way we can finish this up in time with just Daehwi,’ you shot a playful albeit apologetic smile in Woong’s way, making the boy wonder whether your kindness towards him was strictly platonic or you had something to do with the letter he had found in his script.

Could you have been in love with him?

Honestly, he had never thought of you as more than a friend’s close friend who also happened to be his coworker at the uni radio. You were nice and funny - and undoubtedly pretty -, but despite your friendship with Donghyun, you had never initiated any conversations with him outside of the studio when it wasn’t related to the show. Obviously, you didn’t turn him down when he walked up to you to talk about something else, but those conversations were so brief, Woong often wondered whether he could have ever gotten to know the real you; the you you were outside of the studio.

Seeing your furrowed eyebrows and the worry in your eyes, Woong’s gaze fell on the mango energy drink as well. Since when had he been fidgeting with the can so absentmindedly? He cleared his throat and opened the drink before you could have thought he hated your choice. It really didn’t matter that much whether it was his favorite or not.

‘Mango is good. Thanks,’ he reassured you and you acknowledged his answer with a relieved sigh and a smile that for the first time since he knew you, did something to the boy’s heart; it made it beat quicker while his chest and ears got super warm.

Woong realized he was in trouble when he had a hard time paying attention to what you were saying because he was too focused on how pleasant your voice sounded to his ears; then he knew it for sure when he started to come up with hopeful yet illogical reasons why it couldn’t have been anyone else but you who had left that envelope in his script.

You knew both Daehwi and Woong were popular on Seoul National grounds. They were not only amazing singers, but their show focused on their listeners instead of campus gossip, so they earned brownie points left and right with their caring side, detailed advice on personal matters, and dorky sense of humor. Girls wanted to date them; guys wished to be their friends, so they could have stood under the same spotlight. While you…

You also daydreamed about meaning a bit more to Woong than a hard-working script writer he could rely on, but accepted the role you had in their life. Being close, but not close enough meant you weren’t a real treat to their fans. You might have doubted anyone would have slid into your dms or gotten your number somehow just to threaten you and ask you to leave the boys alone, but one could have never known with people.

‘You’re doing it again,’ Woojin pointed out while he turned on his laptop and opened a new, empty document for the lecture that made no sense to you. You preferred sticking to the same one throughout the semester, but he was his own person, so you never really teased him for it openly. You teased him for a bunch of other things anyway.

‘Doing what?’ You raised a brow in question, slowly turning your head back ahead. You had two lectures in total that you shared with Jeon Woong and this one (un)fortunately wasn’t the one where he sat right in front of you. As you were watching him chatting with his friends, you let out a dreamy sigh.

‘Drooling,’ he said with an unamused click of his tongue that earned him a scoff and a light punch in the shoulder. While you were a firm believer that violence should have never been the answer to anything, especially to insults where one’s emotions were already heightened or out of control, your best friend had a way with words that made it easy to throw your morals out the window. (Though, if anyone had asked Woojin, he would have said your punches were as good as being hit with cotton candy. Your noodle arms could hurt no one.)

You wished you could have been as brave as those girls who gathered around the boy’s desk in the second row. You would have loved to talk to him in breaks, too, but your nerves got the best of you whenever you were around him and there wasn’t a safe, fixed topic to discuss like during your meetings where you talked about your ideas for their next show or the success of the previous one.

‘Why don’t you ask him to be your partner for the group project?’ Woojin suggested plainly, reminding you of your professor’s last email and the upcoming presentations you wished you could have replaced with a written exam.

‘Duh, because we do every group project together,’ you retorted, feigning annoyance since he should have known better than anyone that you would have never considered pairing up with anybody else until he was in the same class. You two were a well-functioning duo from the get-go; working with Woojin was not only comfortable for you, but efficient, too. He brought the best out of your procrastinating ass, while you made sure he didn’t forget to eat or drink once he immersed himself in studying.

‘Not this one, snowflake. Donghyun already asked me,’ Woojin told you, the look of betrayal on your face painting a guilty frown on his own. The mere fact that he called you by your nickname was telling. You knew he felt bad about the situation, but you were also aware that he wouldn’t have chosen your other friend over you if he hadn’t thought it was for the better. Which also meant that you wouldn’t be able to convince him to take you back with your sad eyes and pouty lips. ‘Look, I’m an introvert. You’re also an introvert. Interviewing random students together would be a disaster,’ he reasoned, making an excellent point.

There was no way you could have interviewed twenty students in a single week and written a detailed analysis on it with your social battery dying. You needed someone who could easily walk up to strangers, helping you out with the first phase of your project. And that someone clearly wasn’t your best friend.

You let out a disappointed sigh and created a new headline for your upcoming lecture, jotting down the topic you knew you would discuss and the current date.

‘So you took away my only other friend in this class,’ you complained, pondering whether you should have actively searched for a partner or you should have waited until someone came up to you. Arg! You should have made more friends during orientation week last year. It would have made everything a lot easier if only you had remembered a few names at least. Was the petite, blonde girl beside you Miyeon or Miyoung? Should you have asked the guy in the first row who only ever spoke up during classes when Mr. Jung involved him in the obligatory discussions?

‘Ask Woong!’ Woojin suggested, his voice so nonchalant it made you wonder whether he had ever paid attention to you when Woong was around. Your small voice, shy smiles, and warm cheeks should have been telltale signs that you were a lost case when it came to the boy. With your tendency to leave your assignments last minute, you would have avoided him until you had barely a day left to finish everything.

You saw your professor walk into the lecture hall moments before the cute exchange student from Europe tapped on Woong’s shoulder, your heart sinking into your stomach when her pretty smile turned upside down right in front of your eyes. There was no way you could have asked him to be your partner. He either had one already or he had someone in mind because otherwise he would have never turned her down so quickly. You had once seen him giving a campus tour to a freshman despite how frequently he himself got lost between the buildings just because he couldn’t have said no to someone in need. He had to have a good reason why he had rejected her before she could have talked him into teaming up with her. A reason you had nothing to go against.

For the next one and a half hour, you locked this problem in the back of your mind and didn’t stress over it until your professor dismissed the class and the girl on your left started to shove her things into her backpack. You had seconds to address her or your chance to team up with her was out the window and you couldn’t have afforded that. 

‘Hey,’ you blurted out the exact same moment she said:

‘I heard you still need a partner. Would you like to work with me?’

If you had been one of those cool anime characters you liked so much, an entire mountain of weight would have been lifted off your chest as you processed her question. Smile beaming, it was almost embarrassing how quickly you jumped on the opportunity.

‘I’d love that!’ You said, enjoying how effortlessly she took charge of the situation when she introduced herself as Miyoung and shoved her phone into your hands, so that you could have added yourself on her kakao.

It soon turned out that while you had an empty period before your Music, Social Life, and Scenes class, she had piano practice on another floor, hence you bid your goodbyes quickly and promised to contact each other about the details in a couple of hours, which was… already a lot better than you had expected. Maybe, Miyoung would be able to motivate you to do your job, too, and it wasn’t only a Woojin thing. You were definitely hopeful.

Since your best friend wanted to write a brief draft of those questions Donghyun could have asked from the students they would interview, you told him you would kill some time in your go-to coffee shop before you joined them in the library, then promised to buy him a latte and a ham and cheese croissant in case the other boy didn’t need anything. As a broke uni student who majored in music with a pedagogy minor, there had to be a limit to your generosity, too. You couldn’t have spent all of your allowance on textbooks and your friends. 

You were already in the corridor when someone called your name, the husky tone embracing you with familiarity despite the breathlessness in the syllables.

You slowed down your steps, then stopped entirely.

‘You’re fast,’ Woong stated with a warm smile, trying to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. You furrowed your brows, unsure whether you had forgotten an important promise or a meeting and that was why he tried to hunt you down. ‘I was thinking… would you like to work on the group project together? I heard Donghyun paired up with Woojin, so we’re both partner-less…’

If Woong said anything else, you didn’t hear it. Your surprise completely overwhelmed your senses and by the time you were pulled back to reality, he was already looking at you with his pretty, hazelnut eyes.

There was an itchy knot in your throat that made it hard to speak, but you swallowed it with an awkward smile and wrapped your slim fingers around the strap of your bag to ground your messy thoughts. You didn’t want them to wander in case you had this one chance to tell him how you would have gladly been his partner if only you hadn’t been such a coward and asked someone else to play it safe.

In your defense, you had no idea Woong wanted to work with you of all people. He had never shown any interest in you academically and the two of you barely interacted outside of the studio. Even when you did, your friends were always there to fill the silence.

‘It’s really nice of you, but I already found a partner. I’m sorry. If I knew…’ you rambled, the need to come up with as many excuses as possible within the shortest period of time turning your sentences into a slurred monologue.

‘Nah, it’s okay,’ he cut you off with a reassuring smile, but while his voice sounded stable and unbothered, his body language seemed off and his eyes looked disappointed. He put too much effort into brushing aside your apologies; his exaggerated waves and playful eye rolls felt insincere, which made you worried.

You would have never thought you had the courage to hang out with Woong just for the sake of it without your friends as they were your safety net, let alone propose a friendly date with him, but as you kept your eyes on his face, something inside of you begged you to open your mouth and force those words through your teeth. 

‘I’m on my way to ABNEW. Would you like to join?’ You asked, mentally preparing yourself for a rejection while your heart was simultaneously yearning for a positive reaction.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t be disappointed even if he turned you down, because you had asked him about the campus coffee shop to make up for already pairing up with someone else. If he didn’t want to or couldn’t join you, that might have meant he was fine without your company as well, which should have been a relief.

However, when he agreed to spend his free period with you, you couldn’t stop grinning like a madwoman. It was embarrassing, how happy this sudden turn of events made you feel when an hour ago you had been adamant that you couldn’t have uttered a coherent sentence in his company, not with his attention focused solely on you.

Arriving at the shop, it turned out that you had been wrong. Sure, it took a couple of minutes, but eventually, you were able to calm your nerves with your cinnamon latte in your hands. You even brought up topics the two of you had never talked about before: your obsession with oat milk, the chinese drama you were currently watching, and your dream to work for Arirang. It was nice: letting him get familiar with more sides of you and getting to know him better in return.

The more time Woong spent with you in your natural habitat, that didn’t include your shared classes or the studio, the more sure he became that you were his secret admirer. It was because of those subtle signs - signs that you might have liked him more than a friend - that he hadn’t noticed before, but couldn’t overlook anymore. Like how he always had a piece of your attention even when you were talking or listening to someone else; how you knew his favorite snacks, drinks, and comfort food by heart and surprised him with them when he was lacking energy or motivation; how your cheeks dressed into the prettiest shade of pink when he prioritized you and your needs.

However, just because Woong knew he wanted to give you a chance and see whether the two of you could have worked as a couple, too, it didn’t mean he had the slightest idea how to approach you about the letter. He didn’t want to push you too much in case you weren’t ready to confess; you had put a lot of effort into making sure it remained anonymous after all. But it slowly started to frustrate him that he couldn’t claim the seat beside you during lunch break when your other friends were around or that he couldn’t hold your hand just because he felt like making you blush without said friends giving him weird glances.

‘Jangjun, Daehwi, and Seungyoun said I should keep the blonde, but Woojin, Donghyun, and my mom voted for my natural hair color. Clearly, I’m in desperate need of your opinion,’ the boy said between two bites of pepperoni pizza while he also tried to make you smile with his dramatics.

‘I don’t know. Should I be offended that you’ve already asked everybody else?’ You asked in a playful manner, a lot more comfortable around him than you had been a couple of weeks ago. It was fascinating to see the small changes in your behavior the less eagerly you hid your personality behind your thick walls. You were still one of the nicest people Woong had ever met, but you were also witty and your tongue was sharp when you felt cornered.

Woong swallowed the food in his mouth and tilted his head to the right, observing your soft features to make sure there wasn’t a single pinch of real hurt in your eyes. The jalapeno slices on your pizza might have been a bit too spicy for you, but otherwise, you seemed fine.

‘Why should you? Your vote will decide my next hair color,’ he retorted with a mischievous smile that got wider upon seeing your sauce-coated, pouty lips. He giggled at the funny sight, but gave you a napkin before anyone else could have noticed what a messy eater you were.

‘Fine.’ You took the napkin from him and wiped your lips and chin to make sure all the dirt was gone before you reached for your coke and refreshed yourself with the bubbly beverage. ‘I think you should go for your natural hair color. Don’t get me wrong, your blonde hair looks so fluffy I’m sure it’s a lot silkier than mine. Like seriously, you need to share your haircare routine with me before I do something crazy and chop off my dry hair with a kitchen knife…’ you rambled, getting lost in the details like you often did these days: a cute habit of yours that might have been as old as time, but was still new to Woong. He had yet to figure out whether you did it when you were super nervous or when you were enthusiastic about something. Considering the topic, he hoped it was the latter. ‘What I really want to say is… you look like a fairy like this and it’s so pretty, but there’s something in the way your natural hair color highlights your warmth as a person. It makes you look more approachable: less otherworldly, but still handsome.’

Objectively speaking, Woong was well aware that he was attractive; people around him made it pretty obvious with the way they treated him. However, hearing it from you felt different. Your words had more weight and fell from your lips more genuinely. They filled his heart, but left holes in his chest that made him yearn for more. He wanted you to compliment other aspects of his being, too, not just his looks.

Although he was curious whether you had anything else to say, the boy couldn’t get over the fact that you called him a fairy just like his secret admirer had done in that letter. Your unique choice of word fed his certainty; he might have had strong assumptions before, but now he was outright convinced that you looked at him as a potential lover, too. 

And this was all he needed to put down the pizza slice he was munching on and demand your full attention with the prettiest, most hopeful smile he could have mustered.

‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ He asked with his heart pulsing in his entire body. Woong liked to think he was an expert in social interactions - he had managed to befriend his Math teacher as a freshman high school student and had a pretty smooth three years with him while his classmates couldn’t have stopped complaining about his hardcore exams and unfair grading -, but he had never asked out anyone, nor had he had a crush on a friend, therefore he was a tad bit nervous.

‘What?’

Scratch that… one glance at your furrowed eyebrows, parted lips, and bewildered eyes was enough to make him super nervous. Had he misinterpreted the signs? That wasn’t an option. You were quite literally a blushing, stuttering mess at arm’s length. You were clearly affected by his question and the concept of a date with him. He couldn’t have given up so soon when there was a chance you were just shy.

‘A date. Just us. We could watch a movie or check out that fancy dessert place where you can decorate your own cakes,’ the blonde boy suggested, promising himself that he would accept your decision with an encouraging smile whether you rejected him or not. He also promised himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure this wouldn’t have a negative impact on your friendship. You were too important to lose.

‘I…’ you spoke up a bit unsure, slim fingers drumming on the edge of your half-empty glass of coke. You avoided Woong’s eyes, but he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him or imply your decision. Instead, you needed time to find your voice and he was more than okay with giving you as much as could soothe your nerves. ‘Both sound pretty nice. I’d love to go on a date like that… with you,’ you mumbled, quiet but sure in the way you slowly lifted your head and looked him in the eye.

You had no idea how happy you made Woong at that moment.

‘Cool,’ he claimed with a nod before he reached for his half-eaten pizza slice and took a huge bite from it, humming around the thin pasta, cheese, and pepperoni like a giddy child.

That afternoon, you chose a day for your first date and eased the pressure of expectations it put on you with childish banters, like when you told him you refused to match your outfit with his, yet he was hellbent on how couples who did that were cute.

You called Woong a menace so softly, it almost felt like a nickname, and whined because the idea of people staring at your couple outfit made you feel uncomfortable, which the boy understood and was willing to respect. Because regardless of Woong’s overzealous reasoning, you could have shown up at the dessert place next Saturday wearing a sack, he would have been fine with that, too. He just wanted to spend more time with you and earn the permission to hold your hand.

In theory, you knew what first dates were like. Naturally, most people put more effort into their appearance when they met someone they liked romantically; they also spent their money more easily that day, so that they wouldn’t have been labeled as a miser. First dates were crucial: they could make or break the future of a relationship, which made them almost as scary as exciting, if not a whole lot scarier.

It wasn’t the first time your heart sank into your stomach at the thought of possible worst case scenarios, especially not when it came to Woong. Ever since you had started to spend quality time together without your friend group, you were often terrified that one poorly chosen word could make him realize that you weren’t worth it: his energy, those secrets he shared with you during your 11PM conversations, and the attention he gave you when so many other people yearned for a piece of it along with his heart.

You obviously didn’t think you were worthless or unlovable. Woojin would have killed you and dragged you back to life to kill you again if he had ever heard you speak so poorly of yourself. Still, even your best friend should have admitted that going on a date with someone popular was a concept ordinary people like yourself needed time to process. Not necessarily because of the most confidence-shattering questions like why he would have wanted to go on a date with you out of all people or what was so special about you, but because your mind had to catch up with your silly heart to believe it was reality.

You had had a crush on Woong for so long, of course, it felt like a dream.

A dream too good to be true until he picked you up on Saturday and walked with you to the nearest bus stop because neither of you had your own car. Despite the small talk you initiated while you were waiting for the crowded vehicle and the awkward silence that embraced you during the ride, you couldn’t have pinpointed a single thing that made this date different from your previous dates with Woong. And you meant this in the most positive sense of the word: familiarity.

Obviously, you were still nervous that one day he would wake up and realize you were too plain for him, but the small skips in your heartbeat whenever he smiled at you fondly greeted you like an old friend would have and that was enough to ease your worries. It was just him, the boy you had liked more than a friend even when he had been a friend. Things might have changed, he might have finally shown some interest in you as a girl, but essentially, you and your fond feelings were the same. You had nothing new to be scared of, just what you had already been accustomed to.

‘Should we decorate a whole cake or just two slices?’ You asked with a small pout when even after staring at the wide range of options for five whole minutes, you couldn’t decide what to pick from the menu. Thank goodness you had already agreed on making your own cake, because if you had had to choose even the type of dessert you went with on top of every flavor and size you could have ordered, you would have spent your whole date in this shop. And you had a movie to catch in three hours.

‘What about two whole cakes?’ Woong pondered, pointing at the smallest options that were about the size of your two palms next to each other. It was tempting, very much so, but you didn’t intend to upset your or the boy’s stomach with so much sugar.

‘You didn’t skip your lunch on purpose, did you?’ You turned towards the boy with your full body, concerned that you should have chosen a diner over the dessert place when you planned to eat popcorn and gummy worms for dinner.

‘Maybe I did…’ the boy admitted with a sheepish smile and while you were super excited about this place, at that moment, you would have been more than fine with leaving if that had meant he wouldn’t have starved later. ‘Or maybe I was just too nervous to eat,’ he added, his confession melting your heart because even though you had eaten a sandwich an hour ago, you felt the same way. It was nice to know you weren’t alone.

Since you would have also hated to be the reason for the sudden change in your plans, you didn’t wish to put Woong in that position. Instead, you quickly thought through your options and smiled at him when the most reasonable solution hit you.

‘Let’s decorate two slices and grab some street food before the movie,’ you proposed with a small bounce in your movements, rocking back and forth on your feet with your hands linked behind your back. Your chest felt warm and your skin was burning around your neck when Woong reached towards you and ruffled your hair.

‘So thoughtful! I love it, let’s do that!’

And you did that. You picked two slices in different flavors and walked up to the counter on the other side of the shop where you could coat your desserts with chocolate, fondant or icing, decorate them with fruit slices, marshmallows, crackers and more chocolate, then pick a marzipan figure to complete the aesthetics.

If you wanted to be honest, you had more fun designing your cake than how proud you were of the outcome, but Woong did a much worse job and he was still proud of himself, so you figured it was okay. They both tasted like a piece of heaven, anyway, and in the end, that was what truly mattered (and the memories you two made).

At first, you were a bit wary that there were certain topics you should have avoided on your date such as your struggles with oral exams and your rising anxiety whenever you thought of the presentation you had to give on pop music next week, but when Woong brought up their radio show with Daehwi, it felt like a permission to talk about anything.

Moving from one place to another, munching on cakes, fishcake and tteokbokki, you shared more with each other than your food. You confided Woong in your insecurities, your regrets, and your family background you rarely talked about. You also got to know that in spite of his easy-going personality, the boy had a hard time keeping more than three or four friendships alive simultaneously because he tended to give too much of himself to those around him and easily forgot about people who weren’t right in front of him.

Some things Woong told you were easy to comprehend; others were too complex and foreign to you to grasp. Still, you made sure he knew you were listening with the intent of getting familiar with the way he thought and felt, because he did the same for you.

If you could have chosen what to do on your first date with the boy all over again, you might have told him you wanted to speak and listen more instead of spending two hours in a dark, noisy room, staring at a screen, but overall, you had a pretty good time.

And the best part was that it didn’t end with the movie or your long ride back to the campus. Woong insisted on walking you all the way to your dormitory, so that he knew for sure that you got home safe.

‘I didn’t know dating can be so much fun. Thank you for today.’ You offered him one of your bashful smiles as your steps slowed down, then came to a temporary halt in front of the main gate of the girls’ building.

‘Does this mean there’s a chance you’re up for a second date, too?’ He asked just as smiley as you were while you turned towards him with your entire body and willed yourself to look up at him, right into his hazelnut orbs, instead of avoiding eye contact. You had no reason to shy away from him now when he clearly wanted to go on another date with you. 

‘Yeah… If you promise you won’t skip lunch next time,’ you teased, choosing to embrace the situation instead of running away from it. You had already survived a whole afternoon in his company. You had eaten delicious food together, brushed hands in the dark, and laughed so hard, your guts hurt from happiness. What else was there to be afraid of?

‘In that case, we should grab lunch together on our next date. We could go to the amusement park right after. How does it sound?’ The question fell from Woong’s lips playfully, making it easy to anticipate your next date and yearn for a dozen more.

Munching on your cheek from the inside, you bit back a flustered chuckle. You thought of all those drama leads you admired and envied, then took a deep breath and said:

‘Like you’re planning to sweep me off my feet.’

You would have never called yourself a spontaneous person. You were terrible at going with the flow because uncertainty often made you anxious, but right then and there you took a leap of faith and stood on your tiptoes. Your eyes were closed when your lips landed on Woong’s cheek, but luckily, you didn’t miss your aim. An accidental nose kiss would have definitely mortified your soul and locked away your adventurous side.

‘But you’ve already done that,’ you whispered against the boy’s soft skin before you pulled away, satisfied to see how stunned he got because of a simple, chaste peck. It meant that your paces weren’t that different, which was a relief.

You waved him goodbye before he regained his composure; your grin twice as wide as it had been seconds before when you chose the stairs to the third floor instead of the elevator. You needed a good excuse for how fast your heart was beating and a bit of exercise might have been able to do the job.

An ice cream date and a retro roller skating slash milkshake date later, Woong was ready to ask you to be his girlfriend. He genuinely liked your company: your closeness and your rosy cheeks whenever he initiated a new form of skinship in public; your sweet and encouraging texts that turned into nagging from one moment to another when he was about to fail behind on his assignments; your long walks back to your dorm after their radio show. He liked you at 1AM, when your face was bare and your moles more prominent and at 1PM, too, when you talked with your mouth full during lunch breaks because Woojin couldn’t stop teasing you. You were who he wanted to be with. It was clear considering how much he anticipated seeing you each and every day. He just wanted to make it special even if Jangjun called him a simp for acting like he was about to propose.

Since Seungyoun’s ideas had been too extra and rather than helping him, Donghyun had clowned Woong for calling for an emergency bro meeting two weeks after his first date with you, Woong had asked his mom about romantic gestures and chosen one from the classics. He had bought you a pair of silver earrings because you rarely wore any other jewelry and a box of square donuts from your favorite shop since he knew for a fact that no matter how much you loved them, you deemed them too expensive to buy them for yourself just for the sake of it. They were birthdays and holidays kind of special for you: just what he aimed at on Friday when he planned to pop the question after your adorable goodnight peck.

Woong found the familiar, yellow envelope with the new love letter in it in the same place, at the same time he had done the first time. It was slid between two pages of the script you had given him at the beginning of your brainstorming session.

Back then, the blonde boy had been too afraid to read the message in front of his friend. This time, however, he thought being teased for being admired by the person he was also whipped for was a small price for reading your letter on the spot. Therefore, he picked the seal flap’s edge open with great care, then took the paper in his hands with a giddy smile on his face. You were so cute, asking for a break before he could have found it.

Something tugged on Woong’s heart when he saw that you started the letter with an apology. It made him feel uneasy because he seriously couldn’t have thought back on a single thing you should have felt sorry for. Could it have been because you had fallen asleep during your video call last week? He had already told you it was fine. Or because Woojin had called him a taken man in front of other girls the day before? Gosh, that was absolutely okay with him, too. If anything, Woong couldn’t have waited to be officially taken after tonight. You worried your pretty little head too much.

But then you went into details and those fragments pulled the rug out from under the boy’s feet. You were rambling about your assignments, your need to blow off some steam, and how you had gone to an outdoor concert with your friend and ended up catching the cold. You swore up and down that you had intended to write to him at least once a week, but you had been too drained to keep up with both your academic life and his radio shows. Nevertheless, you were sure that he had done great with Daehwi and playfully suggested that they should have made a YouTube channel where they uploaded their shows once they were over.

It was a useful idea, something he would have brought up in the second half of your meeting on any other Friday night… This time, however, he was too shaken up by the realization that you weren’t his secret admirer.

Woong’s hands were trembling when he shoved the letter back into the yellow envelope. He didn’t want you or anyone else to see it before he could have talked with you. He had to talk with you first.

Speaking of you, shouldn’t you have come back from your restroom break by now?

‘I’ll step outside for a couple of minutes. Call me if she comes back in the meantime,’ Woong asked his friend with one leg already out of the room. With his back to Daehwi, he shot an uneasy smile at the boy from above his shoulder, then left before the younger could have uttered a simple:

‘Sure.’

Woong had dozens of questions he wanted to ask you. Although, he knew you wouldn’t be able to answer any of them since he had never told you about his secret admirer. He had incorrectly assumed that they were you and now that it was clear that they weren’t, he was a lot of things, but most of all: confused.

He obviously still liked you. You were funny, kind-hearted, caring, and very pretty. You were everything he looked for in a partner, but all of a sudden, there was this other person who seemed to know him on another level and cheered for him from the shadows. They supported him like you and…

He tried to message you, call you to ask you where you were and what took you so long. He felt desperate to be near you before the mess got bigger in his head and he could have started acting differently around you, but you didn’t pick up your phone. 

‘Come on! Where are you?’ He mumbled when he didn’t find you in front of the fourth floor vending machine, either. It was like you weren’t even at the building, which made no sense. You would have never abandoned your brainstorming session, not without a word, not when he and Daehwi were clearly waiting for you to come back from your break. Woong might have been mistaken about the letters, but he knew you weren’t that kind of person.

Still, when he couldn’t find you despite checking every restroom the building had to offer, he decided to rush to the nearest 7-Eleven, too, as the convenience store was right outside of the campus and you had the tendency to overestimate your speed when you had places to be. The closer he got to the ground floor, the clearer he could picture you with snacks in your hands and an apologetic smile on your face. Now that he thought about it, the vending machines had indeed looked a bit empty when he had passed them.

Woong’s lips pulled into the proudest, brightest grin when just like he had predicted, in front of the building’s main gates, there stood you with a plastic bag in your right hand, but it soon wavered when he noticed that you weren’t alone. And that you weren’t walking towards the glass doors, either. Instead, you stood there like a fly frozen in amber, unmoving and stiff, which urged him to speed up his steps.

‘… playing dumb. You two got closer after the first one. I bet you told him it was from you,’ one of the two girls around you said accusatively, pointing at your chest from a distance to give emphasis to her words. Woong had no idea what was going on, what these people could have had against you, but it was clear that they made you feel uncomfortable in your skin. If the way you were munching on your cheek from the inside hadn’t been enough, your failed attempts at speaking up for yourself would have still spoken volumes.

Woong saw you shook your head and took a defensive step backwards when the only guy in the group took one towards you.

‘You think he will still want you when he realizes that your relationship is built on lies? You basically manipulated him into dating you. How fucking sick is that? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?’ The boy kept throwing his accusatory questions at you and while Woong couldn’t have said with confidence that he understood the situation perfectly, he knew he would have never forgiven himself if he had kept watching from the sideline as they were screaming at you.

So he stepped between you and them, shielding you with his body at the same time you said:

‘I don’t…’

Woong reached behind his back to take your empty hand in his, then checked on you from above his shoulder when you squeezed his palm. It felt weak, almost uncertain, like you were conflicted whether you had the right to seek comfort in him to begin with.

‘What’s going on? Are they harassing you?’ He asked, wondering whether they had told you something that made you act this way - they couldn’t have talked about him when they had said you manipulated someone, right? you had never once tried to influence his decisions in any way, goddamnit! - or you were just too intimidated to react to his closeness the way you usually did.

‘The hell? We’re not harassing her. We came here to defend our friend, dude. She stole the credit for her letters,’ the guy claimed angrily, his lips pressed into a thin line when one of the girls slid her palm on his biceps to calm him. Despite everything, Woong was grateful for the help; he doubted he could have dealt with a guy this big if all hell had broken loose.

‘She’s lying to you. It’s Hari. She’s the one who wrote you those letters, not her,’ the other girl with the messy bun chirped in, visibly shy, but just as harsh with her accusation.

And then it clicked. Stolen credits, anonymous letters, dating… They were talking about the letters he had gotten and his secret admirer. Woong wouldn’t have been surprised if they had been the ones who had slid the envelope into his script.

‘Well, I appreciate that you’re here to clear up this misunderstanding, but you clearly make her uncomfortable,’ Woong started as diplomatically as possible, well aware that he was the one to blame for this mess. Not you. ‘And for that matter, she doesn’t know about the letters. It was me who asked her out, not the other way around,’ he reasoned. His heart sank into his stomach when he realized that your fingers were about to slip out of his hold. Were you mad at him? Were you shocked? Was it your confusion that tried to put some distance between the two of you?

Woong could only hope that you didn’t let go of his hand consciously, but just in case you did or your thoughts were just as fuzzy as his, he decided to take you out of the situation that was messing with your mind before your brain could have rewritten your memories from the past weeks. He turned towards you and gave you all of his attention as he gingerly reached for your hand and pulled you inside the building.

‘Are you okay?’ was the first thing that left the boy’s mouth when you were finally alone and he could cup your face in his hands. Woong’s thumbs caressed your cheeks anxiously while he was waiting for you to speak up. 

In the deafening silence, he wished he could have been able to read your mind.

‘Did you think it was me?’ Your voice was so quiet, it was barely above a whisper, but since he stood close enough to you, Woong could decipher every word. He sucked in his lower lip, unsure whether you really wanted to hear his answer or this was a rhetorical question. After all, those guys had made sure you knew the two of you had grown closer around the time he had received the first letter. ‘Did you ask me out because of that letter they mentioned?’

Woong’s palms fell from your cheeks to the crooks of your neck. The boy was a lot of things: loud, childish, forgetful, oblivious… but he wasn’t a liar. Thus, he swallowed his nervousness and chose to tell you the truth. He liked you. Logically speaking, the circumstances shouldn’t have changed much between the two of you if you had liked him, too.

‘I mean, yeah. I started to look at you differently after I read the first one,’ he admitted shyly while his thumbs fondled your skin absentmindedly. Your heart was beating just as fast as his, he realized, when his finger found a more prominent vein.

‘I see,’ you breathed, your calm tone pushing the boy’s mind to overdrive. Something was off with you, your voice, your posture. Had your shoulders been droopy from the beginning? Why did your eyes look so dull all of a sudden?

‘Hey, it’s not like that. Sure, I didn’t think of you as a girl girl before that, but…’ Woong tried to explain the situation in detail, so that you would have understood that even though he had needed that extra push, in the end, he had fallen for you because of the little things that made you you.

But you weren’t listening. Instead, you cut him off mid-sentence and took his hands off your neck with a resigned smile.

‘I think you should give her a chance,’ you whispered, breaking something in Woong with the way you deliberately avoided his eyes.

‘What?’

‘Hari. Your secret admirer,’ you explained. Every word that fell from your rosy lips added to the wall you were building between the two of you. You might have stood at arm’s length from him, but Woong felt like you had never been further away. You were slowly slipping through his fingers and he had no idea what to do to keep you close. ‘Her letters clearly mean something to you. I think you should give her a chance. Take her on a date,’ you pushed, like it was easy. Like you hadn’t just told him to go out with someone else.

Woong had to force his next question through his gritted teeth.

‘But what about us?’

He didn’t want to be upset. A part of him doubted he had any right to feel that way - at least, towards you -, but even though he saw the logic behind your request, it was hard to not feel unwanted because of your calmness. He hated how calm you were acting on the outside.

‘I don’t know,’ came your answer before he heard you take a deep breath and your eyes met. Was he seeing things or your eyes were teary when you smiled at him? ‘Daehwi is waiting for us.’

You didn’t wait for Woong to figure out whether he liked the letters so much because he had thought they had been from you or you were right. You just turned your back to him and took the first steps towards the elevator.

That night, you left without a word, before Woong could have packed his things and walked you to your dorm. The earrings in his backpack were just as heavy as his footsteps or the silence that embraced Daehwi and him on their way to the boys’ residence on campus.

Letting go of Woong had been one of the hardest decisions of your life. However, it had been a decision you had had to make for both of your sake.

You weren’t angry with him. If anyone, it was Woojin who refused to talk to the blonde boy ever since he had learned about Woong’s reason for asking you out. You had tried to tell him, he was acting ridiculous, that their friendship should have meant more than your broken heart or those tears you had shed during the weekend, but days later, he was still adamant. He said you were his best friend and Woong could easily survive a few weeks without him until you got over your break-up. He didn’t care that you had never been officially together.

‘Stop giving them those stares. You’re making me anxious,’ you whined at ABNEW between two classes, half-determined to spend your free period in bed, half-willing to work on your group project with Miyoung who was still standing in the line in front of the counter, waiting for her drink and those muffins Woojin, Donghyun, and you had asked for.

It was bad enough that your presentation was due within a week and you still had to figure out the structure of your slides, but hanging out at your go-to coffee shop at the same time Woong and Hari did was a whole new low for the day. You had never wished to study in the library so badly.

‘Why? It’s not like her friends aren’t staring at you when you’re around,’ your best friend spat back bitterly, his tone just as black as the coffee in his hands.

Munching on your lower lip, you slowly turned your head towards the couple in the back of the shop and let out a disappointed sigh as your gaze fell on their smiley figures. You weren’t sure what you had expected when you had told Woong to give a chance to his secret admirer, but based on the dull pain in your chest, something told you that not this.

‘He looks happy. It’s better this way,’ you explained, hoping that you sounded at least half as convinced as you felt. It all depended on perspectives, after all. ‘Donghyun-ah! Tell him to stop staring!’ You turned towards your other friend, seeking help where you could only find a frown. So typical.

‘Like he listens to me,’ Donghyun retorted, although he did reach out to the younger boy to gain his attention.

In the following silence, you were sipping on your latte while you busied yourself with trivial things: you created a ppt file, chose a minimalistic theme for your slides, and searched for a few pretty, monochrome icons with transparent background on the internet for later use. You also wrote your names on the first slide and changed the fonts where it was needed. You were desperate to do something, anything that could help you forget about Woong and his love life. Now that you weren’t a part of it, it shouldn’t have been your business.

Too bad, none of your friends had come to the same conclusion yet.

‘She isn’t that cool, by the way. I mean, she’s obviously pretty and she’s kind when she needs to be, but we have a seminar together on Wednesdays and she lowkey looks down on people who are on scholarship,’ Donghyun broke the silence when you started to drum on the edge of your mug absentmindedly; a clear sign that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You looked up at the boy’s face with sad eyes, feeling conflicted about his words that had meant to be reassuring. Were you allowed to feel relieved that Hari wasn’t the perfect girl you had assumed her to be based on how much her friends loved and supported her? Maybe. But it still felt selfish, because Woong seemed to like her a lot. ‘I don’t even know how she knows who are on scholarship. It’s not like people openly talk about these things.’

You, on the other hand, had a few guesses. She either came from an influential family or she was more popular than you had initially thought. Both sounded a bit scary, especially because both options came with enough power to ruin lives in a collectivist society.

‘But most of Woong’s close friends are on scholarship,’ you mumbled as you lifted your mug in front of your mouth and took a small sip from the sweet beverage. You didn’t like where your messy thoughts were about to go. You didn’t like the odd mixture of fear and excitement that slowly consumed your body.

Yet, there was a hint of a genuine smile in the corner of your mouth when the boy patted your upper arm with his hand. 

‘Exactly. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you,’ Donghyun said encouragingly, earning a scoff from Woojin with his positivity. Neither of you needed to be a genius to realize that the younger hated the idea of false hope the boy’s words might have been giving you.

Thus, you lifted your chin high and decided to prevent all hell from breaking loose for the nth time with your most believable nonchalant smile. 

‘I don’t,’ you claimed - a ridiculous lie, really -, then took another sip from your drink to steal yourself a little time to actually consider this as your next step in your long journey towards absolute recovery. Because sooner or later you had to face the facts: you had had your chance and you had blown it. Who said Woong would have wanted to be with you once he broke up with his girlfriend. If he had broken up with his girlfriend to begin with.

‘That’s the spirit!’ Woojin exclaimed with a proud smile that honestly warmed your heart. He acted so unlike his age, being your big brother who wanted nothing but the best for you when you were actually a year older. You shot finger guns at the boy to make him smile and to put your gratitude on display in the most you-way possible: you acted like those few weeks with Woong had already been in the past. (Because they were. They needed to be, for everyone’s sake.)

Not long after Miyoung got back to your table and squeezed her chair between Donghyun’s and yours, you saw Woong and his girlfriend leave the café, holding hands while swinging their arms back and forth between their bodies like playful couples did in movies. Eyes glued to their figure on the other side of the glass doors, you pouted like a kicked puppy until Donghyun stuffed a blueberry muffin into your mouth.

Coughing, you felt a little lighter when his laughter embraced your grieving soul. It was time to speed up your recovery, skip a few stages, and advance towards the last step: acceptance.

Lacking first-hand experience, Woong had always thought that every break-up was the same until you liked the other person. After all, he had cried just as badly when he had lost Bbang, his goldfish in kindergarten as he had done in middle school when his cat had run away from home while he had been in the academy. Shouldn’t all hearts have broken the same?

He learned that the answer was no when he broke up with Hari and asked her to remain good friends. With her curse words ringing in his ears and her petite figure disappearing at the end of the hallway, feet frozen and eyes wide, the boy didn’t feel sadness or disappointment like he had anticipated. Instead, he was relieved.

Obviously, he still thought that she was an amazing person - hence his offer to stay present in each other’s life -, but while she had been nothing but kind to him, something had felt forced in their short-lived relationship while it had lasted. Maybe, it had been the girl’s smile that had seemed different whenever Jangjun or Seungyoun had hung out with them. Maybe, it had been his body that had felt stiffer every time the girl had wanted to check out a place where he had already been on a date with you. Maybe, it had been you and your sad eyes that had haunted him since the night you had told him to go on a date with Hari.

Or maybe it was all about timing and his heart simply wasn’t ready to care for someone new when it was still in love with you.

‘Hyung! Could you come already? I really, really can’t stay until eleven this time,’ Daehwi’s plea reached Woong’s ears only a couple of heartbeats before you said:

‘Let him be! I’ve already told you, you can leave at ten.’

The younger boy’s exaggerated sigh and your playful banter about how Daehwi would have never been able to ditch either of you (but mostly you) while you still had promising ideas to talk through made Woong smile. The whole situation and those tiny yet significant steps that led him to this moment were so surreal. Had he really broken up with his first girlfriend five minutes before your Friday brainstorming session? Had he really done it because he had seen Hari frown at you in the elevator? 

The chokehold you had on him was insane.

‘I’m coming!’ He exclaimed as he shook his head and brushed aside his overwhelming urge to be there for you all day every day for the rest of your life. He didn’t want to burden you with his feelings, especially not after what had happened between the two of you - not to mention that he might have needed a bit of time alone to organize his thoughts and emotions before he could have come clean to you -, but he hoped that with time, you would give him a second chance. A chance to show you he didn’t need anyone else; you had no reason to doubt him.

Since Daehwi had an assignment due at midnight he still had to proofread and submit, the three of you decided to skip your usual break and wrap up the meeting around nine regardless of how far you got, because the boys could always improvise during their show in case they ran out of scripted material, but the younger boy only had one chance to impress Mrs. Park with his academic knowledge and that woman was hard to win over once she lost her faith in you. Professors in the Business Faculty were infamous for holding grudges against students who didn’t take their studies seriously.

Considering that your tactic to avoid being alone with Woong was the same since the day you had distanced yourself from him, the boy knew he needed to be quick if he didn’t want you to slip through his fingers again. Therefore, he made sure his papers and pens were already in his backpack when you jotted down your last ideas in your notebook, then stood up from his chair as soon as you did, so that he could follow you to the corridor.

‘Hey!’ Woong jogged after you when you gained a head start because of the table he had to skirt around first. The boy hoped that he could catch up to you in front of the lift, but then he noticed that you were heading towards the stairs, most probably to save yourself from an awkward elevator ride. He could only pray you still had enough kindness in your heart for him to not ignore him intentionally when he was clearly talking to you. Sure, you hadn’t spoken since he had gone after Hari, but that had been your idea and…

When your steps came to a sudden halt with your hand on the door that led to the stairway, the boy almost tripped over his own feet. He was so damn glad you hadn’t ran away.

‘Khm, so I was thinking…’ he started, a little uncertain, but still determined to live with this chance. ‘Would it be okay if I walked you back to the dorm?’

Relatively speaking, Woong didn’t ask for much. He would have been more than satisfied with the tiniest baby steps like walking at arm’s length from you either by your side or behind you if that made you feel more comfortable. Although, the latter might have made him feel a bit creepy, but until you let him, it would have been fine.

The resigned sigh that left your mouth could hardly mean anything good, but turning back now would have been awkward, Woong thought, and he had already done a super impulsive, super reckless thing that day. What was one more? Even if you rejected him or called him a confusing jerk in your own, curseless way, he could have at least said that he had tried.

‘Actually, if you have something to tell me, I’d prefer if you did it here, while we’re still in the building,’ you told him in a neutral tone, making him wonder whether he overreacted it or you treated him differently from everyone else (in a completely different way than before). He tried to recall your first ever conversation, whether you had smiled at him back then or his memories were playing a trick on him, but it was no use.

He was clearly overthinking it: a warning sign that he wasn’t ready to be with you and that he should have given himself a bit of time after his breakup. But you were finally close enough for your moles to be visible and more importantly, you were with him without Woojin who always had a rude comment to Woong when he hung out with the boys.

‘Because of Hari,’ you said, as you most probably mistook his silence for not knowing what you were talking about. Which was funny, because while his mind was filled with you, you, and you, once you spoke up, Woong realized you were actually right. He didn’t understand your reasons, he just hadn’t dwelled on them or questioned your request. ‘I don’t want her to misunderstand. Her friends are already giving me the stares.’

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. What had you just said?

‘I… I didn’t know,’ he stuttered, the confession heavy on the tip of his tongue. Truth to tell, he had rarely paid attention to Hari’s friends since he hadn’t liked what they had done to you and his ex-girlfriend had understood. She had actually encouraged him to spend more time with her without either of their friends, so that they could have gotten to know each other better. It had sounded logical back then. ‘But she’s not my girlfriend anymore. I broke up with her,’ he felt the need to correct you at least, since he couldn’t promise you that everything would be okay. The thought that he might have unintentionally made things harder for you with his actions worried him more than he showed. He didn’t like the thought that they could have put the blame on you, when it was him whose heart hadn’t been in their relationship with Hari.

‘Is this what you want to talk about?’ You asked, raising one of your slim eyebrows as if you were suspicious. It reminded Woong of your arcade date when you had caught him cheating, but he quickly brushed aside the memory.

‘No. Partly. I don’t know,’ he rambled, uncertain of how much he could have told you when his thoughts and urges scared even him. It couldn’t be normal, how much he missed you when you had never been his. But his mouth chose this moment to completely disregard his brain. ‘I just miss you. I miss walking you back to the dorm, holding your hand, spending time with you.’

After Woong’s confession, the silence was deafening. It made the boy anxious that your lips parted to speak, but no words came out of your mouth. The longer you stood there frozen, the more he started to question his decisions. Since when had he been so afraid to take the initiative? He was usually so unbothered by others’ opinion, he was the first to volunteer when someone needed to do something stupid. Like when he had rapped his part of the presentation in first year because they had been talking about popular genres with his partner and they had wished to do something out of the ordinary. Woong was a terrible rapper.

‘Fine. We can walk together, but no hand-holding,’ you pulled him out of his thoughts with a few simple words that made the boy smile even though you couldn’t see it because you were already with your back to him.

Woong didn’t point out that you could have taken the elevator, too, now that you had agreed to let him tag along. Instead, he accepted your decision and followed you from a comfortable distance until you waited for him in front of the main entrance and he could finally walk by your side with a lighter heart.

If he wanted to be honest, Woong had tons of things to tell you on the way. He wanted you to know that he might have needed that anonymous letter to have an excuse to get closer to you, but he had always thought that you were kind and interesting. It just didn’t feel right to bring these up. In fact, he felt utterly selfish from the mere idea to force this conversation on you when you had already let him stay. 

Therefore, he stuck to neutral topics. He asked you about the radio show, your seminars without him, and complimented your presentation skills since he couldn’t have congratulated you after class because of Woojin, the girl you had been partners with, and Donghyun who had pulled you out of the room before he had realized. Blushing, you apologized for your best friend’s behavior and he reassured you it was fine. Sure, it hurt his feelings that his friend had openly taken your side, but he was also grateful that the younger boy had been there for you.

Without taking detours and competing which one of you could take smaller steps, the walk to your dorm felt shorter than Woong remembered, but he didn’t complain or ask you to stay outside for a bit longer. The boy would have liked to believe that his consideration was why you smiled at him so brightly before you bid your goodbye.

Your individual decisions might have damaged your relationship. Yet, your actions gave him hope that it wasn’t beyond repair.

You were as stubborn as a mule. Or maybe, you were just afraid of disappointing your best friend, but it took you longer than any of your friends would have predicted to get back together with Woong.

The night he had told you that he had broken up with Hari, you had been doubtful and so had been Woojin whom you had called up as soon as you had gotten in your room. You had been in desperate need of advice and you had known he had had a movie night with Donghyun, so it had been like killing two birds with one stone: you had gotten both the pros and the cons of letting Woong back into your life in a span of one and a half hour.

What had convinced you to not push him away in the end had been the same thing that had made you sit behind your desk in your dorm room exactly one hundred and fifty days later to write him your own love letter for Sunday: you loved him and you had regretted not holding on to him firmly on each day he had been with someone else.

Before Woong, you had thought that 100th and 1000th day’s anniversaries were only excuses to be a bit more romantic, to spice things up with your partner, and while you were still a bit skeptical, you believed your relationship with the now-brown-haired boy was still exciting and fun enough to not need tricks and aids like these. Nonetheless, you were hyped about your celebration dinner on Sunday and the amusement park you had bought tickets to weeks before your date.

Despite laughing your ass off at Lotte World and filling your tummy with delicious snacks in the shade between two rides, you thought the park itself was overpriced, but it was a special day and the memories were worth every won - thank goodness Woojin had let you tutor two of his students who were preparing for CSATs, you had definitely needed the extra pocket money.

‘Are you ready for the best present anyone has ever given you?’ Your boyfriend asked once you finished your main dishes at the Italian restaurant you had chosen together and you put your elbow on the table, placing your chin atop of your palm, smiling. He looked so proud of himself like a child who had gotten his first shiny star from his homeroom teacher in elementary school. His goofy smile was absolutely adorable.

‘You mean the laptop dad gave me for high school graduation? Nah, I don’t want to leave before dessert,’ you joked, earning an exaggerated groan with your playful attitude, but one look at your boyfriend’s pouty lips was enough to know he wasn’t done with you for real.

‘Very funny,’ Woong grumped, reciprocating your carefree giggles with his own chuckles as he pulled an ocean blue gift bag out of his backpack and shoved it into your hands. ‘Here! Open it!’

You looked down at the small package he had prepared for you, then bit back a smile and took a similar gift bag out of your tote bag in green color.

‘Let’s open them for three!’ You suggested, because no matter how much you wanted to see his reaction and burn it into your memory, you also hated standing under the spotlight and this way you could share it with each other. It was a small sacrifice for comfort - something that your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind.

So you counted to one, two, and three, then pulled every item out of the bag one by one until you had a bunch of self-care products piling up in front of you on the table. Woong hadn’t been joking: it was indeed the best present ever, especially for a busy university student like you whose skin liked to turn into her enemy under stress. He had bought you a box of slime for stress relief, face masks, that fancy vitamin c serum you had been talking about for weeks, a plushie headband, a white USB stick with a winking emoji drawn on one side and the words “you did great, honey” written on the other.

Already overwhelmed, your lips parted when you noticed a light pink envelope.

It wasn’t closed properly, so you could pull the handwritten letter out of it easily, but before you would have started reading it, you stole a glance at your boyfriend and grinned at his similar reaction to your lilac love letter. Gosh, you were both so cheesy.

‘I can’t believe you stole my groundbreaking idea,’ Woong whined, his furrowed eyebrows and sulky voice urging you to roll your eyes with affection.

‘Maybe, you stole mine,’ you retorted, cheeks red like tomatoes when the waiter chose the same moment to walk up to your table with your chocolate cake. You darted your tongue out for good measure.

Not that the old man had any interest in your conversation with your boyfriend or made you feel bad for acting so childish. In fact! He was gone before you could have said thank you for the food.

‘Should we read them now? Not gonna lie, I’m super curious, but if you would rather wait until you’re alone, that’s fine with me, too,’ Woong offered, giving you a chance to save yourself from embarrassment (and most probably, second-hand embarrassment as well), but you wanted to show him just how grateful you were for him as a person… so you gave yourself a quick pep talk and shook your head with pseudo-confidence. Until he was with you, you had nothing to be afraid of, right? And this was your 100th day’s anniversary. When to be crazy and wild if not tonight?

‘Nah, we can read them now,’ you reassured him, waving with your hand as though a single motion could have brushed aside all your worries.

It obviously didn’t work.

You barely reached the end of the first paragraph and your cheeks were already crimson, your heartbeats erratic, and your lips bitten. You couldn’t stop munching on them because of how utterly ridiculous your boyfriend was. Comparing your laugh to a dolphin’s and your eyes to blizzards? Was either of those a positive comparison to begin with?

‘Yah! How could you write so much nonsense about me? I don’t drool like a sick fairy, nor is my snoring adorable. I do not snore, Woong!’ You whined, regretting every real compliment you had given him in your own letter, especially when he shot the most amused grin at you, you had ever seen on his face, then started quoting you, too, just because in his opinion - his words, not yours -, it had been you who had started it.

The rest of your celebration dinner was spent with constant whining, scoffing, and laughing. You both dissed each other for certain words and phrases you had used in your confession such as ethereal, angelic, and your personal favorite: morning voice as smooth as Woong’s to-go strawberry smoothie. You competed to see which one of you was more hopeless based on the months behind your backs and teased one another a bit more when you failed to eat your chocolate cakes without getting some on your faces.

But there were undeniably sweet moments, too, between your playful banters. Like when the boy told you he liked your letter better because it was handwritten and smelled like you. Or when he sat next to you to pull you into his arms as soon as you started crying soundly because of those love yous he had oh so casually written at the end of every paragraph.

‘I love you,’ Woong whispered against your temple, feeding you as though you were a baby, his baby, when you refused to pull away.

‘I love you, too,’ you reciprocated his words immediately, swallowing the cake and shoving a couple of bites into his mouth, too, with your chopsticks.

That night, neither of you knew yet that you had started the tradition of cheesy love letters and exaggerated diss battles that secretly you both liked or that - three years later - this tradition would make it super easy for Woong to ask you to be his for the rest of your lives.

the end.

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester – Part 30

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 897

Warning: Pregnancy

Several months later…

You were 38 weeks’ pregnant and felt like an elephant who walked like a penguin. There was nothing erotic about the way you looked now but Cillian disagreed with how you viewed yourself. He adored your pregnant body and constantly had to touch and kiss you.

But it wasn’t just your changing body he adored. He adored the whole concept of you being pregnant with his child and you even complained to your new mother-in-law that her son was driving you crazy in the best possible way.

Ever since he found out that you were pregnant, Cillian had become a perfectionist. He did things by the book and attended seminars with you even though he already had two teenage boys and had done it all before.

He wanted to be prepared and, just as his ex-wife had warned you, he was strict. He even had this whole plan on how to get to the hospital faster from your house but, little did he know, that it wasn’t his house from which he had to get you to the hospital.

It was a Sunday afternoon when you were visiting your father’s house that your water broke.

‘Oh my god’ you huffed out as you suddenly felt a gush of water running down your leg just as your father looked at you and handed you a glass of orange juice.

The glass fell to the ground and the moment he saw the water dripping down your legs, he passed out.

‘Fucking really?’ you huffed out, supporting yourself against the kitchen bench.

‘Cillian, I need you to take me to hospital’ you shouted out and, of course, he came running for you immediately alongside your stepmother who attended to your father who was slowly regaining consciousness.

It took for a moment for your to finally wake up.  He rubbed his cheek feeling stinging pain. 

‘You need to get it together for fuck sake’ your stepmother growled as he saw that your father was a blubbering mess throughout that you couldn't even understand a thing he was saying. 

***

The drive to the hospital took twenty minutes and contractions had clearly started at this point. To your surprise Cillian was calm but you were hysterical.

‘Just breathe…deep breaths remember?’ he said with a warm smile as he pulled up in front of the hospital followed by your stepmother and father.

‘I wish my father wouldn’t be coming, fucking hell’ you huffed out in between laboured breaths as Cillian helped you out of the car.

‘Don’t worry, they won’t let him into the delivery room’ Cillian reassured you just as one of the nurses in attendance in front of the hospital quickly put you into one of the wheelchairs and pushed you through the corridor.

***

As soon as you entered the deliver room and were changed into a gown, Cillian was able to join you and take his place by your side.

‘Fuck this hurts…who’s fucking idea was this god dammit’ you growled, consumed by pain.

‘Yours, actually’ Cillian chuckled and you couldn’t help but give him a nudge.

‘Fuck Cillian, it’s not funny! It’s easy for you to joke. You don’t have to fucking push the baby out’ you huffed out in between contractions while the midwife assessed where you were at.

‘Sorry, she doesn’t normally swear that much’ Cillian then said to the midwife and you gave him yet another serious look.

‘You are 8 cm dilated.  You're doing a good job’ the midwife then said but everything became a blur and all you could hear was ‘push’ and ‘breathe’.

‘That’s it babe, you are doing so well’ you heard Cillian say on several occasions while he was running his hand through your hair as you were crying from the pain.

‘One more push’ the midwife then finally said as you felt like your womb was on fire and Cillian encouraged you again when you cried and said that you couldn’t take any more.

He may sometimes have been annoying throughout this pregnancy, but hearing his voice made you more motivated to be stronger.  To push harder regardless of the pain.  He could see it.  He could see you trying so hard to finally bring your baby boy to this world and he couldn’t help but feel a little pain in his throat as he tried to stop himself from crying.  

Then, finally, the first cry echoed through the room. 

Cillian looked up to see his baby boy.  A smile immediately plastered on his face and tears began to form. 

‘He is beautiful’ Cillian barely managed to say, overwhelmed with love. ‘I love you Y/N’ he then said and peppered you with kisses while the midwife placed your little boy onto your chest.

‘I can't believe it.  We made this beautiful baby boy’ you said with a crack in your voice as it was your turn to cry this time and both Cillian and you were in awe with your son.

He was perfect, with large blue eyes and dark blonde hair. He looked very much like his father, that was for sure.

NEXT PART FINAL PART....

Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

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[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

The Interview - Tool

How it all began... Poor JJ. 

CW: subtle manipulation, implied kidnapping, implied use of the machine, missing person. 

[Tool’s Masterlist]

The Mechanic examined the young person standing in front of him. His last intern hadn’t worked out. They had been just a bit too self-confident. A little too supported. In actuality, he hadn’t pushed them that far, and yet they had left at even the slightest pressure.

No problem. There was always a stream of bright faced graduate students looking for internship placement. An old friend of his worked in the college advisor’s office and knew what he was looking for. Disconnected, easily missed, middle to low grades.

At least, that had been the template until now. His methods were getting better, the process being simplified and streamlined. The Mechanic was confident that his newest design would be the strongest yet, and no longer would need such easily manipulated subjects.

Hence the newest applicant that had been funneled to him. President’s list, letters of recommendation, certificates of workshops and seminars. The exact opposite of what he had used up until now. It would be harder to cover his tracks, but more of a challenge. A stronger example to get people’s attention.

He scanned the portfolio once more, making a soft search sound. Jacob Jackson.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Jackson.”

JJ smiled slightly as he reached out to shake the man’s hand. “You can drop the Mr. part. Just call me JJ, or Jackson, if you want.”

The Mechanic nodded and shook. “Nice to meet you, Jackson.” He gestured for the other to sit while he settled down at his desk. JJ was halfway down to one of the chairs before the Mechanic cut in suddenly and with authority.

“Not there.”

JJ froze, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Such expressive eyes. And already subconsciously obedient.

“Apologies,” the Mechanic said, feigning embarrassment. “One of the chairs is a bit broken. Wouldn’t want to you to hurt yourself.”

A little more wary, JJ sat in the other chair. Odd, that a man with this much recognition in his field would have a broken chain in his office. But JJ figured that he had fallen out of favor after he had stopped publishing a few years ago. Or at least, that was the only reason they could come up with for the lack or information that they could find on the man.

Little things pricked at the edges of their mind, but JJ pushed them away. Their intuition was, admittedly not great. Everyone said that they were too naive, gave people too much credit. It took them a while to notice the toxic people in their life, and far longer to do much about it – honestly Charlotte usually had to clue them in. So yeah, they didn’t really trust their gut anymore.

Besides, their advisor had personally recommended this man, insisted in setting up a meeting as soon as possible.

“So, what perked your interest in my internship position?”

JJ smiled, putting on his most confident smile. “I’m looking at focusing on biomedical technologies, and my advisor just couldn’t stop singing your praises. He also mentioned that you had your internship open up unexpectedly, and I was hoping to get placed as soon as possible.”

The Mechanic smiled. He would be buying that friend the finest scotch he could get his hands on. Maybe even offer them a free pet if they had one in mind.

“Yes, I had asked them to keep an eye out for the perfect applicant. I have strict requirements.” Flipping through portfolio – how cute, he thought to himself, all the docs in a university branded stationary.

“All of your papers are impeccable. How come another internship hasn’t accepted you already? Are you still waiting to hear back?” he said with a hint of annoyance. He didn’t want this kid shopping around, didn’t want others to be trying to contact them.

JJ blushed slightly. “The internship doesn’t technically start until the end of next semester, and no where is accepting applications yet. I just, really wanted to start early and get more ground under me. Just a little leg up.”

Was this dude offended that he might be considering other offers? JJ cringed internally. Was that a red flag? He didn’t know if it was. The Advisor had talked this up as an exclusive offer, and JJ didn’t want to accentually put his foot in his mouth – like usual.

The Mechanic noticed the slight shift in posture, the smallest bounce of the kid’s leg. Nervous, if just slightly. As they should be. He put the portfolio to the side.

“I only have space for one intern at a time. We would be spending a considerable amount of time together, so we should be able to get along. Tell me about yourself, about your life outside of school.”

JJ paused. They, they didn’t really have a big life outside of school. Family was small, and in another state. Friends were also heavily involved in school. There was only so much time, and they spent most of it with something that at related to academics at least a little.

Internally, the Mechanic grinned. Perfect. No one to miss them.

~

University Student Counsel President Jacob Jackson was reported missing earlier this week after friends and teachers were unable to contact him after he did not attend the meeting last Wednesday afternoon. Charlotte Han, Vice President voiced her concerns after not being in contact with Jackson for three days prior to the meeting.

“It’s just not like them. I had this feeling that something was wrong, but I didn’t know for sure.”

Jackson was extremely active on campus, founding the Engineering Club as well as Treasurer for Phi Theta Alpha Honor Society on top of his duties as President.  

Jackson is 5’10, auburn hair and light blue eyes. Last reported sighting was Saturday afternoon around University Square. If you have any information, please contact one of the numbers listed below.

The Mechanic folded the newspaper and tucked it away. He knew exactly where Jacob Jackson was – two rooms away restrained to a table. And that is where his intern would stay until they had proven him correct. That is was possible to take someone – anyone – and strip every last bit of control they had. Subservience was the goal, and the Mechanic was determined to prove himself a genius.

~

tagging crew: @unicornscotty @as-a-matter-of-whump @starnight-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-it @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @valkyrie-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @whole-and-apart-and-between @misspelledwitch @fanmanga1357-blog @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @thehopelessopus

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[tardis--dreams]

Me: I will finish my Bachelor degree by October :)

My professor: no ♡

[imlovethomassanders]

Eyes are the Windows to the Soul(mates) - Chapter 4

You can also read on ao3

Thank you to @strongindependentcheesecake for beta reading

This work is complete, and new chapters will be added everyday until completion:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: The lucky few who have a soulmate are born with heterochromia, with their left eye being the color of their soulmate’s eyes and their right eye being their own color. Not only was Virgil one of the lucky few to have a soulmate, but he was given four. His left eye changed colors every time he blinked, rotating between his four soulmates’ eye colors. His rotating eye colors caused him to be a bit of an outcast growing up, but when he finally leaves for college, things start to fall into place. This is the journey of five strangers finding each other.

Pairings: DLAMP with background Remile

Warnings: None I believe

Words: 3924

Taglist:  @touchstarvedvirgil @lamp-calm-sanders @ninjago2020 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @secret-novelisthost18 @phander-sides @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @bookbingingproblem @viana-dascolli @sharktryingtofly @crofters-n-falsehoods @turnedthefreakingfrogsgay @little-kat07 @romano-hottopic​

Logan had been too worried about Roman and his eyes to talk to Patton and Virgil. It had been two weeks since they last video called, and Patton and Virgil were getting worried. For the first few days, Logan said he was sick. Then he had a lot of homework, then he had a migraine, then he had to study, then he had to help Emile with studying, or whatever excuse he could think of. He knew Patton and Virgil didn't buy it, but he was grateful they didn't push him.

Patton: How are you feeling today sweetie? Virgil: think you can talk to us today? Logan: I'm in the apartment elevator. As soon as I get home I will turn on my laptop and call you. Patton: !!!! :D <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Emile wasn't home yet, so Logan assumed he was still out with Remy. He went to his bedroom and opened his laptop, and a video call request popped up as soon as Logan came online.

"Hello-"

"LOGAN YOUR EYES!!" Patton exclaimed, Virgil wincing next to him. "Who?? When?? Where??"

Um, a couple weeks ago," Logan admitted. "We... had a bit of a rough start."

"You okay, Logan?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, things are getting better. We actually have a date tomorrow."

Patton squealed. "Oh, when can we meet them?? I can't wait to meet them!!"

Logan texted Roman that they were excited to meet him. Even though Virgil waited to meet Logan in person, that wait was only a couple days. Since Patton and Virgil probably wouldn't be able to meet Roman in person until the end of the semester, they decided to video call tomorrow.

Logan got to Roman's apartment a little before noon, and Remy was already gone. Roman said he wasn't too upset about being kicked out, since he got to use this as an excuse to go see Emile. Logan remembered Emile being particularly giddy as he left.

Logan was surprised when Roman pulled him into a hug as soon as the door opened.

"Hello," he said, muffled against Roman's chest. He prayed his cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"It's wonderful to see you," Roman said as he let go of Logan. "I made tea. Do you like tea?"

He started talking again before Logan got a chance to respond.

"Oh, I'm so excited. You're going to love these. Which ones do you want to watch first?" Roman asked as he shoved a mug into Logan's hands.

"Show me your favorites."

Roman beamed.

A relaxing afternoon passed into evening. Roman and Logan had spent much of the time poking fun at inconsistencies in the movies, or Logan holding back laughter as Roman dramatically sang along to the songs.

Logan's phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Patton and Virgil are almost back to their dorm. They will be ready to call us when they arrive."

"Oh, wonderful!" Roman said.

Their moods had been so playful, it was easy to notice Roman's mood shift as his leg started shaking.

"Are you okay?" Logan asked.

"I'm fine," Roman said, but winced when his voice cracked.

"There is no need to worry," Logan said as he pulled his laptop out of his bag and Roman paused the movie. "I know they are very excited to meet you."

Roman gave him a grateful smile as Logan clicked the "Accept Call" button.

The few moments it took for the video to load dragged on for what felt like forever before the image of two men appeared on screen, one with pale skin and dark hair and the other covered in freckles with golden curls.

Roman's breath hitched at how absolutely gorgeous they were.

"Ohmygosh! Hello!!" the curly one exclaimed with a giant grin. "I'm Patton! It's so so wonderful to finally meet you!"

"Hey," the other one said, not nearly as energetic. "I'm Virgil."

"I'm Roman Kingsley. I'm so glad to finally meet my soulmates," Roman said as he flashed a grin. "And may I just say, that you two are two of the most beautiful beings I have ever been blessed enough to see."

Patton squealed in delight as he grabbed Virgil's hand while Virgil's cheeks grew a dark shade of red.

Conversation followed easily for them, and all of Roman's worries melted away. Roman glanced over to see Logan looking at him with eyes softer than he'd ever seen before. Roman smiled back and took Logan's hand and the two turned their attention back towards Patton and Virgil.

They were all so incredible. Roman swore he was in love.

*

"Logan?" Roman asked. He was laying on the couch with his head resting on Logan's lap. It was late Saturday night, and the two were exhausted after spending most of the day unpacking boxes. Roman and Emile were switching places so they could each live with their soulmates (Emile made sure he and Logan kept in touch - plus, double dates with them were now a common occurrence).

"Hm?" Logan hummed as he ran his fingers through Roman's hair.

"How long until winter break?"

"Thirty more days, dear."

It had been almost two months since Roman and Logan first met. And since Roman had met Patton and Virgil, too, he had been counting the days until he would finally get to see them in person.

"That's too long."

"I know."

Roman reached for Logan's hand that wasn't in his hair, but he didn't take it. Instead he just held his hand out for Logan to grab. Roman had been prepared to move at a fairly fast pace once he met his soulmates, but Logan clearly wanted to take it slow. So Roman was patient and let Logan set the pace. It took a couple weeks for Logan to hold his hand in public, a couple weeks more for Logan to cuddle with him. Some days, Logan didn't feel like being touched at all, so they'd sit in the same room on different chairs, just enjoying each other's company.

"Not that I'm not content with you," Roman quickly added. Logan opened his mouth to speak but Roman didn't notice. "I'm so unbelievably happy when I'm with you. Though I'm excited to meet Pat and Virge, you make me so much happier than I ever imagined I could be-"

"I know, Roman. I'm excited to see them, too."

Roman smiled up at him as he squeezed Logan's hand.

"...You're gorgeous," Roman said softly as he gazed up at Logan. Logan's face tinted pink as he glanced away.

"I-... you-... Thank you," Logan managed to stammer as he looked back at Roman, letting go of his hand just to run his hand down the side of Roman's face. "...May I kiss you?"

Roman's eyes widened as he sat up. "Are you sure? Because if so, then yes. Absolutely yes. But I don't want you to feel rushed or-"

"I want to, Roman," Logan assured, a tad embarrassed. Roman gave him a gentle smile as he placed a hand on Logan's cheek. He leaned in slightly but let Logan close the gap. Roman sighed happily as his eyes fluttered closed. He went to raise his other hand to Logan's cheek but Logan' separated, eyes wide and cheeks red.

"Are you okay?"

Logan nodded. "That was... really nice."

Roman smiled.

"Can I... Can I kiss you again?"

Roman nodded as he placed his hands back on Logan's cheeks. This time Logan placed his hand on the back of Roman's neck to pull him just a bit closer, not that Roman minded. Logan was the one to pull back first again, but only for a couple seconds before he pulled Roman back to him.

Roman kept the kiss slow and soft as Logan's hands held tightly on him, firm grip trying to pull them as close together as he could. Roman moved his arms around Logan's waist, aiding in pushing together. Soft gasps were escaping them both as their chests were pressed together.

The next time Logan pulled away, he just wrapped his arms around Roman and buried his head into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman smiled as he placed a kiss onto the side of Logan's head while rubbing soothing circles on his back.\

"Roman, I... I think that I... I0" Logan huffed out a frustrated sigh as he struggled to finish his sentence, his grasp around Roman tightening.

"I know, Logan," Roman assured him with a smile. "I know. Me, too."

*

Roman groaned and shut his laptop. He had done enough school work for tonight. Probably.

He ran his hands over his face. His eyes stung slightly from staring at a bright screen for so long in the dark room. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see it was already nine o'clock. Logan had gone out to attend some seminar for extra credit, not that he needed it. With Roman no longer tapping away at the keyboard, he noticed the light pattering of rain.

He pushed his chair away from his desk and fell onto his bed, reaching for his phone. He didn't know when Logan would be back, but he hoped it would be soon. The apartment got lonely when he wasn't around.

Roman was about to text the group chat to see how Patton and Virgil were doing when he got a phone call from the emo nightmare himself.

Surprised, but in no way complaining, he happily tapped the answer button.

"Hello, my darling. How are-"

"Roman," Virgil gasped out, and Roman was immediately worried. He sat up in the bed, mind racing with what could be wrong. Was he hurt? "I'm sorry. This is so stupid, but Patton's not at the dorm and- Oh, it's getting late I shouldn't have called I'm sorry-"

"Virgil," Roman interrupted. Virgil was already breathing heavy - Roman didn't want him to work himself up even more. "What's wrong, dove?"

"It's stupid," Virgil muttered.

"Virgil."

"...It's storming. And thunderstorms make my anxiety spike."

As if on cue, Roman heard a loud clap of thunder in the background followed by a sharp intake of breath from Virgil.

"That's not stupid," Roman said, affection dripping in his voice. "Just focus on my voice, dove. Follow my breathing."

Roman took a few deep breaths, listening as Virgil followed, and his breathing eventually grew steadier.

"Perfect. You're doing wonderful."

Roman led Virgil through breathing a bit longer until Virgil's breathing was back to normal.

"Thanks, Roman," Virgil said quietly.

"Of course, darling. I'll always be here for you, to protect or comfort. Whatever ails you, I'll work to destroy it."

"Sap."

Roman couldn't help but smile. The sound of rustling blankets came through the phone.

"...Hey, Ro?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you, um, sing for me?" Virgil asked quietly. A large grin grew on Roman's face, his heart burning with so much love for the man on the other end of the phone that it almost hurt.

"Of course I can."

Roman started to sing softly all the love songs he knew, anything he thought could even begin to portray how much he was already in love with him.

"I wish you were here," Virgil said, his soft voice making it evident he was getting sleepy. "So your voice wasn't muddled by the phone."

"I wish I was there, too. To hold you and let you know that as long as I'm around, nothing is going to harm you. Not even thunder."

Virgil chuckled softly.

"I wish you could hold me."

"And I will, love," Roman said earnestly. "As soon as I can."

Virgil yawned.

"Sing me to sleep?"

"Anything you need, Virgil."

*

Fluffball <3: Everyone get on video call!!

Roman shook Logan's shoulder, who was sitting by him, to get his attention. He showed Logan the text and Logan grabbed his laptop.

"Hey sweeties!" Patton said the same time Virgil said "'Sup."

"Hello, dearests," Roman said the same time Logan said "Salutations."

"So we all agreed to get together the first couple weeks before Christmas so we could still go see our families on the holidays, right?" Patton started, smile wide in excitement.

"Yes, Patton." Logan said.

"Well, I found a place in my home town we could rent for those weeks. So we can spend the time by ourselves instead of making our schedule around my parents," Patton said sheepishly. "If we all pitch in, I know we could afford it."

"That sounds incredible, Pat," Roman answered with a large smile. Patton's grin grew wider.

"I'll email y'all the details."

*

Roman was shaking his leg as Logan drove. He was finally, finally, after far too many months, on his way to see Patton and Virgil.

"There's nothing to worry about," Logan assured him. "They are both very fond of you. Just... be prepared for a really big Patton hug when you walk through the door."

Roman was looking forward to it.

Roman knew Patton and Virgil almost as well as he knew Logan due to the constant texts and video calls, though that could never compare to finally being able to see his darling soulmates in person.

Logan held Roman's hand as they walked up the path to the front door. He didn't have time to knock before the door flew open and Logan was pulled inside, yanking Roman in with him.

"Roman!!" Roman heard someone shout before they threw themself into his arms. "Oh my gosh it's so wonderful to finally meet you in person!"

Roman pulled back to see Patton looking up at him, absolutely beaming. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Virgil and Logan hugging while exchanging "I missed you"s, but right now all he wanted was to focus on the little puffball in his arms.

"Hello, dear," Roman said with a large smile as he pulled Patton back to him. Patton let out a loud squeal of laughter as Roman picked him up and spun him around.

"I can not express how ecstatic I am to finally hold you," Roman said as he put Patton down, taking the opportunity to cover his face in kisses. "My dear, my darling, my love, I've been waiting for this day for as long as I can remember, and oh, how gorgeous you are in person."

Patton's face was very red as Roman finished talking, Logan and Virgil watching in amusement. Roman panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone too far, but Patton just threw his arms back around Roman and pressed kisses to his cheek.

"You're so sweet! I'm so happy you're here," Patton said as he pulled back.

Virgil gently placed a hand on Patton's arm, and he let out a little "oh" before stepping aside, turning his attention to Logan.

"Logan! I've missed you!" Patton exclaimed as he threw his arms around Logan, but quickly pulled away once he remembered Logan's occasional aversion to being touched. But Logan wrapped his arms around Patton, and Patton smiled before hugging him again.

"I've missed you, too."

"Uh, hey, Roman," Virgil said a bit sheepishly as Patton turned to Logan.

"Hello, Virgil,"  Roman said with a grin as he stepped closer. There were a couple of moments of silence, then Virgil threw his arms around Roman and Roman quickly reciprocated, placing a hand on Virgil's back and pressing him against his chest.

"It's lovely to finally see you, darling," Roman whispered as Virgil took a shaky breath and hid his face in the crook of Roman's neck. "I'm here now. It's okay."

"We're all together!" Patton squealed happily as he wrapped his arms around the two of them, and Roman felt Virgil smile against his skin.

Roman gave Logan an expectant smile, holding out his hand for Logan to take. And when he did, Roman pulled him into the group hug.

"It's really nice to finally be with all of you," Virgil muttered against Roman, voice cracking just slightly. Roman tightened his arm around him.

"It is," Patton beamed. "I'm so happy."

*

Roman groaned as he stood up off the couch and stretched his arms up, hearing his bones pop in the process. The four of them had gone out to eat that night, and it had been pure magic. It wasn't a particularly grand place, just a small diner around the corner, but the four of them being in the same place for the first time was just wonderful. Roman could put his arm around Patton, or reach over to take Logan or Virgil's hands. The way the four of them clicked together so naturally made Roman feel like he was walking on air.

Oh, how lucky he was to be blessed with soulmates.

When they got home, they had put a movie on the TV. But after a long day of travelling, Logan and Roman didn't last half the movie. When Roman woke up, Virgil had also fallen asleep and Patton was gone, but Roman could hear humming in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello, sweetie," Patton said as Roman walked in. "I'm making tea, would you like some?"

Roman nodded as he reached out towards Patton but hesitated. Patton then gently grabbed his arm and pulled Roman towards him.

"You don't have to worry about me. I always want cuddles," Patton sighed happily as he rested his head on Roman's chest. "You don't have to ask."

"But what if one day you don't-"

"Then I'll make sure to tell you. Though there's never been a day in my life I didn't want hugs."

Roman rested his cheek on Patton's fluffy hair and sighed. "I... I'm honestly sort of relieved. Obviously I'm not upset about Logan's boundaries, but..."

"You can tell me, honey," Patton urged as he tightened his grip around Roman. "It's alright."

"It's just... I've been fighting my insecurities for as long as I can remember. And physical affection just makes me feel better, I guess. It makes me feel secure and wanted," Roman said, voice getting softer from embarrassment. "And when I feel like I need it but Logan doesn't want to be touched, I just keep my mouth shut on how I'm feeling to not make him feel guilty."

"I get it," Patton said as he stepped back to cup Roman's face. "Virgil's the same way. Less often than Logan, but the same.

But I don't think you should hide how you're feeling from Logan. He'd feel bad you felt the need to hide from him. I just know he would want to know so he could find a way to help you. He loves you, Roman."

Roman huffed a bit as he pulled away from Patton to sit on the counter.

"But I don't want him to think I'm trying to pressure him."

"I know, I know. Roman... I get sad often. For no real reason in particular, sometimes. And physical affection helps me feel better, too. And just like Logan with you, Virgil is usually more than happy to help me. But for a while I, too, felt like I needed to keep it to myself because I didn't want to bother him."

"And?"

"He figured out, and he told me to tell him whenever I'm feeling sad. And we've found other ways. I'll sit next to him and we'll watch cat videos, or he'll show me his favorite music. Sometimes he'll say he can handle a little bit of touching and he lets me hold his hand or rest my head on his shoulder. But nothing is going to get better if you keep it to yourself."

Roman ducked his head as Patton gingerly pushed hair away from his face.

"Yeah, you're right," Roman said quietly. Patton pressed a kiss to his cheek. A smile grew on Roman's face. "And one day, we'll all live together, and we'll all balance each other out and love each other in our different ways. We'll never be more than a name call away from all the affection we need. Plus, while I'm here with you, I'll always be more than happy to give you lots and lots of attention."

Patton returned his soft smile as he cupped Roman's cheek. The two gazed at each other for a moment before connecting their lips, pulling the other towards them as close as they could.

The kiss was so incredibly soft. The two had to break apart for a moment just because their smiles grew so big, but they immediately reconnected their lips. It was gentle, just like Patton. Roman couldn't help but melt against him, promising himself that he was going to get as many Patton kisses as he could in his lifetime.

"I don't think I'll be able to handle another semester away from you," Patton said with a melancholy smile as they parted. Roman kissed him.

"Only a couple more years, darling. Then I'll be all yours."

*

Over the following days, Roman had the three of his loves in arms reach at all times. He could finally cuddle Patton against him or wrap Virgil tightly in his arms (and he'd never get tired of holding Logan). But the bliss couldn't last forever, and the day for them to leave for the holidays arrived.

Logan and Patton didn't have a far drive at all considering they were already in their hometown. Virgil had a good few hours, but Roman had to drive to the airport to get home, meaning he had to get up early in the morning and leave significantly sooner than the others.

"I'll see you soon, Specs," Roman said with a sad smile.

Logan met Roman halfway for a kiss. "See you soon."

Patton had been holding back tears all morning. But when Roman pulled him into a tight hug, he couldn't help that a few tears fell down his cheeks.

"Hey now, it's okay, darling. We'll see each other again soon. I lo- I'll miss you."

Patton's eyes widened and Roman tried not to wince at his slip up. But Patton gently placed a hand on Roman's cheek and pulled him down into a kiss.

"I love you," Patton whispered. Roman kissed him again.

"I love you, too."

They shared one more brief kiss before Patton let him go.

"I'll bring your bag out for you," Virgil said and walked out the door before Roman could say anything.

Roman gave one last goodbye to Patton and Logan and followed his other love.

"Call me when you land," Virgil said. "Want to make sure your plane didn't crash."

Virgil put Roman's suitcase in his trunk and slammed it shut. He wasn't looking at Roman.

"And drive safe. I know you like to play your music loud but be careful."

"I will."

"Well, um. I guess this is goodbye," Virgil said, staring at the ground.

"...Please look at me, darling."

Virgil huffed but slowly lifted his head, showing his red cheeks and puffy eyes.

"Oh, my dear," Roman said as Virgil let him pull him into a hug. "It'll be okay. We'll see each other again soon."

"I know," Virgil muttered into Roman's shirt. Virgil pulled away slowly, then placed his hands on Roman's cheeks to pull Roman down into a kiss. Roman pulled Virgil as tightly against him as he could, wishing this didn't have to end.

"I love you," Virgil whispered, surprising Roman. But he smiled.

"I love you, too. So much."

"Call me," Virgil said as he let Roman go.

"I will."

Virgil pressed one more quick kiss to Roman's lips before walking inside. And Roman smiled.

This is going to work out perfectly, he thought.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Hello. I am, as you know, an American. I turned eighteen in 2014, voted in my first presidential election in 2016, and voted in my second presidential election last week via early voting in the state of Texas. 

I’m reflecting right now on the difference between those experiences. This is going to be a very self-indulgent essay. 

The 2016 election was in my third and final year of undergrad at Texas A&M University. At the time, I was living with a roommate who grew up in a town of 2,000, all of them members of her church. I loved her very much, but she was the most sheltered person I’ve ever met. 

I was only a few years ahead of her. My home growing up was deeply liberal about many of the things that counted, but deeply conservative on equally important things. For me, leaving for college was a radicalization speed-run.

I, a good Memphis girl, moved to Texas and encountered for the first time in my life white homogeny and everything that comes with it. I made most of my friends at A&M through a Christian orientation camp that I attended, then worked at. I went to school at a history department that was overwhelmingly male and war-obsessed. 

My second semester, I was randomly sorted into a writing seminar on the American Civil War and Reconstruction. There were eight other students in that class, all of them Texans. By day two I had gotten into a open fight with one of my classmates after he used the phrases “one of the humane parts of slavery” and “the secession declarations are moving and beautiful appeals, if you read them,” and “well I’m not going to criticize my own state.”

We got into at least one yelling match per week from that point forward. It was a formative experience for me-- not just him but the seven other students that took his side every time because they just couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of their own experiences, and frankly, I couldn’t either. 

It rocked my world to be surrounded by people who told me, among other things, that their high schools flew the Confederate battle flag or Lee was their all time role-model (because he actually didn’t want to secede! He didn’t believe in it, but Virginia did, so he put his own qualms aside and served his country, and that’s what we all have to do). I ran a survey once by knocking on every door in a dorm hall and asking the two people inside why the Civil War happened. 

I feel like you can guess the most common answer I got. Only two said slavery. Six didn’t know what the Civil War was. 

The last week of the semester, my class read a collection of recorded oral accounts of freed slaves during Reconstruction. My nemesis told me that he “didn’t realize black people actually had it bad.” At the same time, I was struggling with my sexuality, my relationship to my religion, my relationship with my parents, and a handful of newly-diagnosed but long-existing mental illnesses. I wasn’t having fun. 

Over the next three years, I tried my hardest to humanize the people that said disgusting things about minorities, poverty, and me personally. I barely won on that one, and I’m actually really proud that I did, even if it took me a few years. I can trace the biggest change in me directly to my nemesis from the history department, the kid that made me so mad that I started arguing back. I was too scared to do that before. 

By 2016, I was in full existential spin-out-- a very suddenly liberal kid fighting my whole family, all of my classmates, and most of my friends in an explosive political climate, the first I had ever participated in. 

I voted by Tennessee absentee ballot in 2016. On election night, I ordered takeout for me and my roommate, who I knew had voted red. Confident, like pretty much everybody, that Clinton would win, I was trying to show her that I didn’t hate her. She went to bed after dinner, also so certain that Clinton would win that she didn’t bother to stay up. 

I sat in front of my laptop sewing a birthday present for a friend (Kenza, actually), while the votes came in. I wasn’t super alarmed when the map turned red. I just figured the blue states hadn’t finished counting yet. 

The map didn’t get any bluer. By 1am, I knew what was about to happen. They called it an hour later, while I was sobbing on my floor. I threw up in the bathroom out of pure anxiety. I got two anonymous messages telling me the asker was going to commit suicide. Neither of them responded to my replies. I don’t actually know what happened to them. 

I remember riding the bus to class the next morning and distinctly seeing that most of the racial minorities there had swollen eyes from crying. The girl with the pride stickers all over her laptop didn’t show up that day, and I’m kind of glad she didn’t, considering the way some of our classmates in the back were loudly talking about “the gays.” Hope she’s okay.

My roommate came home completely unaware that Clinton lost. I was crying in my room when that happened. I remember showing her a demographic map of who voted which way. She got visibly upset when she figured out what races how. I think she really did feel guilty. 

That Thanksgiving, one of my cousins tweeted, “I can’t wait to go argue with my liberal cousin today. The wins. Keep. Coming,” an hour before he walked into my house. Inauguration day was January 20, 2017. I decided to go to law school a week later, the day the president signed the Muslim ban. That’s when I figured out for the first time just how much power the courts have. The last three years have only enforced that. 

I got angrier and angrier during law school, egged on by a few friends but more than anything just... finally conscious of exactly how the American system works and exactly who’s behind it. I still live in Texas, farther west now, and I’m working my first legal job. I’m going to be a licensed attorney next week. 

I went back and forth for months about how this election was going to shake out. I knew there wasn’t going to be an overwhelming red majority this time, but my big fear was an election close enough that the Supreme Court could take it. That fear doubled last month, at RBG’s death. 

I was hoping for a blue enough victory on election night that there wouldn’t be a week of uncertainty, but that was unlikely, and it didn’t happen. I obsessively refreshed my election map all of Wednesday and Thursday, aware that at least some states would flip after mail-in ballots came in, but unsure which would. 

Again, my great fear was a blue victory held down by only one state. Given (I would say “any” chance here, but I don’t mean “any” chance because genuinely jurisdiction or facts or legal merit don’t matter to the Supreme Court) an opportunity to make one (1) decision that hands over a red election, please know that a conservative supermajority would take it. I cannot emphasize enough how true that is and how important it is for all of us to grasp that. 

Watching Georgia flip was one of the best experiences of my life, and it’s a little hard for me to articulate why, but I’m going to give it a shot here. I’m southern. I’m from the South, and for this conversation it’s really important that I’m from Memphis, a black city and a center of black music and culture. 

When people think about the South, they think of the white South, and on some level, they should. It is absolutely essential to understand the white South in order to understand American history. Let me be 100% clear here. That is not a good thing. American majority history is not good. We are not a good country. 

It’s near-impossible to understand why that’s true without knowing exactly what happened in the white South and exactly what is still happening there now. With that, however, is another truth that most folks don’t get. 

The SouthTM is white and needs to die. The South as it actually exists is partially white yes, but it is also everyone else that lives here, particularly black folks. Southern culture is black, not white. Georgia flipped because the people that have always, always been there finally got to crack apart the conservative machine holding the South hostage. 

That’s amazing. It’s fucking mind-blowing. I watched it happen at 3:30 in the morning days after Election Day, and holy shit holy shit, Georgia flipped. Atlanta won. Holy fucking shit. 

I would be terrified right now if only Georgia flipped, because SCOTUS would have found a way to throw out a few thousand votes. Inevitable. Absolutely certain on that one. 

With a few states of buffer, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really do think it’s over. 

I came home after work on Friday and immediately went to sleep because I hadn’t really done that since Tuesday. I woke up at noon today, checked the map, checked my messages, and saw what happened while I was gone. After that, I went back to bed until 5:30pm. I’m really just getting up now, after most of 24 hours asleep. 

I don’t know if I would say that I’m happy right now, but I am overwhelmingly relieved. I’m under no illusions that a Biden victory will solve everything, but I also do think this is a real thing to celebrate. I’ll take suggestions on how to celebrate right now, actually, since I’m finally awake. 

I’ll be angry forever, I think, but this is a good thing, and I’d like to enjoy it. If you’re happy right now, hey, tell me about it. I’ll be thrilled with you. I want to hear it. Congrats to all of us. Love y’all. 

[juniorgman187]

Serpent of Eden (Reid Series - Part 3)

~ Reader’s one-night-stand with Spencer turns into a year long semester ~

Summary: After a month of smooth sailing, Reader and Spencer finally cross paths on campus and spoiler alert - it’s not pretty. Couple: Fem!Reader x Professor Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, (eventual) Smut, Series Word Count: 1.7 (ik i promised no small chapters but this ones slightly more spicy and its in preparation for better, longer chapters) Content Warning: Age-gap, teacher student relationship A/N: POV switches from Reader to Spencer indicated by “_ _ _”

PART 2 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It was easy to maintain a romantic relationship and to believe that everything was alright when we never had to see each other at school.

What’s harder was being in a professional setting and forcing ourselves to confront the reality that what we were doing was wrong. 

Just plain wrong.

We must’ve lucked out in the first few weeks of our relationship because it was smooth sailing for the entire first month. We’d even gotten into a routine - found our groove, if you will. 

Most often, we would meet at a place far from Hollis, where we knew we wouldn’t run into anyone who would recognize us. There we could just be (y/n) and Spencer; and there I would get lost in the good times and the bliss of the moment to the point of forgetting that we weren’t just (y/n) and Spencer - we were student and teacher, too. Other times, I’d come over to his apartment, but given my living situation, he had never come over to mine. 

It was somewhere around our one-month anniversary when our luck ran out. 

Holly had come into the room while I was finishing (or at least attempting to finish) reading a court case. 

“Are you going to the Promotional FBI Seminar?” She slid a large pamphlet on my desk, never minding the fact that she’d just haphazardly thrown the pamphlet in the spot where my book lied, causing me to lose my place on the page. Though I didn’t outwardly display my frustration, my agitation did grow beneath the surface. 

“What’s that?” I asked her, not out of sincere curiosity, but more so because I wasn’t even really listening to what she’d said before, and I’d pushed the pamphlet out of the way before I even read it. 

“A couple guys from the FBI are coming to talk to us about the job, like all the requirements to be hired, how much it pays - stuff like that.” 

Holly’s voice didn’t make for great background noise, especially when she started rambling while I tried to continue reading. 

“Are you going?” I asked. Again, this wasn’t a sincere question, just a way to make it seem like I was listening. 

“Yeah, and I really want you to come with me. I think you’d like it. You’re really into crime stuff, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” I said in a daze, obviously distracted by my other priorities.

“So you’ll come?”

I should note that I faintly recognized the name and premise of the seminar, but I couldn’t quite place where I remembered it from, and I was far too preoccupied to pay any further attention to the topic, so it slipped out of my mind almost as fast as it entered it. 

It was this moment here where Spencer’s eidetic memory would’ve come in handy. 

You see, the reason I weakly recalled the seminar was because just three days ago, Spencer had told me he was going to be a guest speaker for it. But again - I didn’t remember that, and so without any recollection of this information, I told Holly I’d go just so she’d stop bothering me about it. 

Unbeknownst to me, I’d just agreed to attending my own personal hell. 

I woke the next morning to Holly violently shaking me. 

“(Y/n), we gotta go! We’re so fucking late!”

Still half-asleep, I mumbled, “Huh?”

“The seminar started at 9:42 and it’s 10:36 right now.” 

This was enough to jolt me awake and get me out of bed.

There was just something about the pressure of being late that forced me into a mode where I could get ready in an ungodly short amount of time. I could never get ready that fast unless I was late for something, which makes no sense. 

Holly and I ran from our dorm, through the courtyard, and into the classroom, somehow managing not to trip once on the way there. I was actually quite proud of that. 

I couldn’t tell you if it was our breathlessness, our late departure, our struggle to find open seats, or a combination of the three, but we’d commanded the attention of the entire room - and the attention of someone I had yet to notice, too. 

“There’s a free seat over there. I can sit in the one over here.” Holly told me, suggesting that if we wanted to sit anywhere, we’d have to be separated. I followed her finger to the empty seat, shuffling awkwardly and apologizing profusely to the people I disturbed by approaching. I was so caught up in the hysteria and chaos to even bother looking up at the stage, hindering my ability to meet my impending doom any sooner. 

On the way to my seat, I noticed the copious amounts of notes being taken by virtually every student in the room, so rather than taking any time to look up, I was searching my bag down below me for note taking materials. 

But as they say - third time's a charm. 

After I’d settled into my seat, I finally looked up from the floor and it was then that I was transported back to a month ago - an eerie parallel to this exact moment. 

“Holy shit,” I muttered, earning sneers from the people sitting next to me who I’d clearly disrupted with my profanity. 

“Sorry,” I whispered to them, for I was truly sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. When I saw him, my stomach dropped. I had a feeling he’d already seen me, but I was too disorderly before to notice. 

I did, however, notice how he eyed me from the stage, even doing a double take when we locked eyes. 

“Most of us have done extensive work in areas such as …” His voice faded while my mind swirled.

We have got to stop meeting like this, Spencer. 

Our eye contact was too much for me to handle, so I was the first to break away. Through the entire question-period, I kept my head down to avoid any eye contact I could. 

“Well, that’s all that we have for you today. Before you go, please hand in your applications if you filled them out.” The other lecturer advised. 

I was well on my way out of the room even before he dismissed us, but I was drawn back by the sound of the sentence, “Excuse me, Miss? Could you stay back for a moment?”

I briefly walked backwards before turning on my heels and meeting those eyes that I desperately didn’t want to. 

“I noticed you came in late and I thought you might want to know the information you missed -” Spencer paused to look over his shoulder, noticing his colleague was attending to someone else and therefore, too engaged in that conversation to interfere with ours. 

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” He asked me in a hushed tone, a stark contrast from his sweet tone from before. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I completely forgot that you were a speaker for this seminar. I didn’t even know I was coming until last night when my roommate asked me to come with her. I would’ve warned you if I knew. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this position.” 

My apology was sincere seeing as I promised Spencer we would never run into each other. In fact, it was the sole reason we agreed to stay in this relationship - the mutual guarantee that we wouldn’t be put in these situations, but here we were. 

In this fucking situation. 

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

Spencer could tell I was flustered and truly apologetic for my ignorance, and he was almost about to reach out and rub my upper arm comfortingly when his actions were cut short by the looming presence of his fellow guest speaker. 

“Hi there. David Rossi.” He introduced himself by extending his hand into the space between us. “And you are?” 

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).” 

_ _ _

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).” 

It was like watching my worst nightmare come alive. 

If I ever imagined introducing (y/n) to my work family, this certainly wasn’t the plan. I just hoped to God that if Rossi and (y/n) ever met again in the future, he wouldn’t suddenly obtain my eidetic memory and recall her familiar face from this exact moment. 

“Got any questions for us?” Rossi coyly asked her. Once more I prayed to God that his profiling skills hadn’t just improved drastically and that he could sense the tension between the two of us. It almost seemed like he asked that question just to tease her because he knew what was really happening. But then again, that was probably just my paranoia speaking. 

She looked mortified when he asked this, even glancing back at me briefly as if to ask for a reprieve. “Um, no not really. I-I was just telling Dr. Reid that I’ve applied to audit his class before, but was always rejected.”

“That’s a shame. Well, maybe I can look into that. You know, put in a good word for you.” Rossi chuckled, nudging (y/n)’s shoulder to suggest he’d help her. She only shyly laughed and took a step closer to the door. 

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that for me.” 

“Nonsense. I’d be happy to do it.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Rossi.” With a thankful smile, (y/n) pranced out the door, closing the lecture hall door sharply behind her without one look back. 

“Nice girl,” Rossi acknowledged. “But it would be nicer if she could be on time.” 

I laughed, despite not finding (y/n) to be at the butt of the joke to be funny at all. 

“Um, are you actually gonna put in a good word for her?” I followed Rossi with my eyes, searching his face with a desperate hope that my question didn’t reveal too much. 

“Yeah, why not? I figured you would’ve liked to have another student audit your class.” 

“Yeah yeah…” I murmured in false agreement. 

Herein lies the trouble.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

PART 4 COMING SOON!

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