#my exams are over :) as we know from me driving. TWO HOURS yesterday...

[todayisafridaynight]

top tier service you want it they got it

[lailawinchesterr]

part eight, maybe let’s not flip the dinner table [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

eight,

Tuesday morning i make breakfast for me and Rachel then she heads out and I let out an exhale, thankful. i have too much going on to have someone around me right now.

The rest of the day I cover different chapters of the module, walking around my apartment with the flashcards in one hand and stickers in the other (my mum used to do it so it became a habit to add a silver star whenever I ace a flashcard). 

It doesn't take long until I'm done, and by 'long' I mean it only took the whole day. I'm not sure when the last time I ate was, but I finished over 12 hours of work and I've practiced and watched my lectures and am absolutely wasted. 

Rachel texts at the end of the day to make sure I'm okay and actually studying, to which I respond with a picture of my crossed off to do list. Everything I wanted done for the day is completed so I settle on relax with some takeout before my phone pings with a text.

   We on for tomorrow?

   Yeah, why, what's up?

Jensen never struck me as the type of guy to ask if we're 'still on' for plans. 

   Didn't know you had an exam

Fucking Rachel.

   Who told you?

   Does it matter? 

   Yes.

   Jared said you told Gen you were stressed

   for your exam this week. Is it after we meet

   up?

   Yeah but it's nothing, I've already studied,

   I don't mind going out. 

   You sure?

Now it feels like a father lecturing their child. Rachel was right, this age thing isn't easy. 

   Jensen if you don't want to go you can

   cancel.

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but it isn't fun being undermined. Although he's right, I probably wouldn't cancel unless my exam was the day after, still, no one wants to seem like a kid. 

   What?

   Are you trying to cancel?

   No, but I don't want to take up your time if you're busy. 

   I'm not, I'm looking forward to going out.

I can't believe I said that, not that taking it back is an option. 

   Me too. I'll see you tomorrow.

I bite the skin around my nails, tapping my foot on the floor to get some kind of release. Obviously that was rude and he was just trying to be the incredibly thoughtful person that he is but i don't like how he's implying that i'd just let him run all over me... whether that's the truth or not is irrelevant.

With that low blow, I decide to plan the rest of my day tomorrow, my outfit for Jensen's date, and the topics that need to be revised, I even planned out my two meals of the day. Maybe it won't go badly, maybe there'll be time tomorrow to finish everything.

+

My alarm decided to take a long vacation this morning so I woke up three hours later than decided. So at ten in the morning, which only gave me so much time to finish revising my module and get ready, the grind began.

I sat at my desk, determined to get everything I'd planned done in time even if I started late. I start with the notes I had to redo, more lectures, practice questions. I do it again and again then I start on the new module for next week's exam. I'm only a few chapters behind when it's lunch time and because I didn't have breakfast, I jump off my desk and heat up the rice and salmon I had prepared yesterday. 

After lunch I get a text from Jensen asking if he should come pick me up and I tell him it's fine, it's only two in the afternoon but he's already thinking of me and it's the sweetest frickin' thing. I’m probably blowing the text out of proportion but still, it’s charming.

I would love from him to drive me back and forth but it would make me feel guilty beyond belief, so i decided to it's better to walk for ten minutes, besides, I wanted to get there a few hours early so I could spend some time studying in the cafes next to the bar. 

"Gen," I whine into my phone, looking through my closet again. I had picked out my most flattering white jeans and a blue flow-y top to go with it but when I woke up, the jeans are soaked. I don't even want to know how (though my upstairs neighbor who’s over sixty and forgets that's she can't just throw her water over the balcony might have an idea).

"Lils, you need to calm down—"

"No! Don't say that. I had everything planned out, down to what I was going to eat today and then nothing went right. I didn't finish my revision, I don't have my outfit, I didn't have breakfast and didn't even get to finish my lunch! I'm frickin' panicking over here!"

I hear the soft laughter on the other side and i frown further, "Jared if that you I'm going to—"

"No, sweetheart, not Jared." That's great. That awesome. That's amazing. Spectacular even. Incredible. Why wouldn't Gen have me on speaker for Jensen Ross Ackles to hear? Why wouldn't she?

"Sorry, babe, I didn't know you'd rant before I even said hello."

"And stopping me halfway wasn't an option? Even mid sentence at any point?"

It's Jensen's voice that speakers up this time, "Then we couldn't find out what's bothering you and fix it. We can push the time back?" I hear some rustling and assume he took the phone from Gen as his voice comes closer to the microphone and becomes clearer. "Make it eight or nine so you could finish the work you wanted to get done. I already told you we can push it back—"

"Don't want to. Eight works."

"Okay, that's good. We'll get drinks at eight, and lunch now."

"What?"

"You said your favorite's sushi, right?"

"Yeah, ages ago, Jensen."

"'It change?"

"No but why?"

"DoorDash. Besides, sushi is easy to eat while you're studying and you don't have to waste time on cooking either." That's cute but also slightly inconsiderate because I am a med student with loans so high you couldn't look over them to see my future, that's the whole reason I walk everywhere, so him making me pay for my lunch when I could've easily made it doesn't sit right with me.

"You there?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Jens. You’re honestly amazing." I hear a chuckle before there's more shuffling that covers up his next words then "—take care of yourself." And the call ends. 

I get back to my desk only to notice that the whole reason I'd called Gen in the first place, my damn outfit crisis, hasn't even been resolved. 

   Don't worry, I got it covered. 

   Your clothes.

Is he really a man? Why would Danneel ever leave him. He's done nothing but be considerate, then sweet, then downright incredible. He's thought of everything when I couldn't because of how stressed I was but he still let me do it my way, by going on the date with him. I didn't want to let that part go, I want us to get the awkward first date out of the way.

Fourth minutes later i hear my doorbell ring so I grab some cash, hoping Jensen hadn't spend more than fifty dollars, and open it. A young man hands me a bag with the logo and writing, sushi bar, and then another white bag with nothing on it. I ask how much and he quickly tells me it's already payed for.

My first thought is, thank God, I'm too broke for this. My second thought is, holy shit Jensen just brought me lunch, to eat on my own. It's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done in the history of the world even if he intended for it to be totally platonic. 

I open the white bag to see my exact favorite pair white jeans, just a size smaller, probably to fit Genevieve, and a pink top that's not too similar to mine but at least it looks comfortable. It's not the outfit I wanted so desperately to wear but it's close enough. So I finish my food while doing my hair and makeup, then I get dressed and notice that this size is way better than mine (meaning I might never return it to Gen). 

I put on my boots, grab my book bag and head out. It's only six when I head out and by the time I arrive, order my coffee, and start studying again, it's seven. 

I get hardly any work done, between thinking of all the ways I'm going to embarrass myself, and how insanely attractive Jensen Ackles is, I've managed to cut my study time to three minutes, maximum. 

My phone rings and my heart immediately jumps, beating way faster that it should be at this point. I let it ring for a few seconds so I can calm myself down and not sound like a two year old before answering, "Hey, Jensen." God why do I sound like his secretary.

"Laila, you ready? I'm on my way."

"Yeah, I'm already here."

"You are? Didn't wanna waste your time, I could've drove you. 'Sides I'm still ten minutes away."

"Take your time, I'll save us a booth." He agrees and tells me to take care again, and then ends the call. I move from the café to the bar down the street where we agreed to meet. I get a table and usher someone over. I'm not exactly sure what Jensen drinks but since I order myself a cherry cola, I get him a beer. She asks if she should start a tab and i hand her my credit card, praying my parents are asleep right now and not getting any notifications. I know I'm an 'independent woman', but I'm also someone with serious money spending issues, if they didn't keep me in check all the time I think I'd actually go broke.

Speaking of, I go to text my mother before I see someone's hand on my shoulder, soft and inviting. I look up and see none other than Jensen, white jeans jacket, similar colored shirt underneath, and loosely fitted jeans. I stand up and smile, greeting him with a kiss on his cheek, though I never actually get close enough and he pulls me a little closer so we're almost touching.

"Hey, Jens."

"You looks great, Lils. I hope that means you liked it?" I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I sit back in the booth, opposite to him.

"Loved it. Thank you for being so thoughtful, honestly, I mean I could've found anything other—"

"No, I'm glad it worked out the way it did. You eat?" I nod again taking out my phone to show him the multiple pictures I snapped of both myself and my sushi filled plate. 

"Honestly, best shit I've ever tasted. You should try it." He chuckles, nodding. 

"Yeah, used to go there all the time. Best place in California. Nothin' beats the Texas barbecue though."

I roll my eyes and pull my phone back from him, crossing my legs under the table, "You'd think barbecue is the best."

"It isn't?" He teases, almost amused. 

"Hello? Sushi exists! Texas doesn't stand a chance against sushi. And anyways, 'S not fair cause you're from Dallas. If you had to pick any other dish, what would it be?"

Only God knows why I am both speaking and asking questions right now but Jensen seems pleased, quick to fire back Mexican, to which I respond with Nah, too close. 

Our drinks arrive and i thank the waitress and shoo her off quickly before Jensen tries to take out his credit card. "Started the tab with mine," I explain when he looked at me confused, he nods and holds his glass, then examines mine. "You don't like beer? I'm sorry I just didn't know what to get you and I had ordered for myself."

"No, no this is great. I'm just curious, not a big drinker?" He nods at my coke and i shrug, sipping to avoid the topic.

"We used to stock up on cherry colas whenever you came so I'm guessing that's your drink of choice?"

"Always. I don't think I've ever passed a day without it." I take another sip and he looks at me in this... way. His green eyes, crinkles on the side giving him an old time look. And his hair. He really grew it out this past year, I could almost see Jared in him at this point, it's really distracting and... beautiful. Though I'm sure Bob will have him cut it any day now. I notice that I'm staring and quickly push my drink towards him, "try?"

He takes it from my hand, our fingers brushing, and sips from the same straw I was just using three seconds ago. His expression says it's good but I think mine says 'fuck me'. It wouldn’t be far off from what I really want.

"I can see why you like it. Too sweet though."

"So's your beer," i retort way too quickly, defending my comfort drink. But I didn't mean it in a mean way, I'm sure he knows it too cause his expression's all taunting now and I don't like it.

"You tried it?"

"Don't drink." I smile tightly for a second. I walked right into that one.

"How'd you know then?"

"Dan mentioned it, said she likes it cause it's sweet enough for her taste but not too sweet that you don't like it." I didn't even know beer could be sweet. In my defense, I don't know what beer tastes like.

"Yeah, her main focus was on making it sugary, told her we could make a sweet one that isn't our main product but she wouldn't have it." I laugh a little with him but i also notice the light in his eyes dim a bit and his shoulders slumping. I don't think we should talk about Danneel today.

"She knows what the public likes," I shrug but decide to move on quickly, "what do you like most about your beer?" 

The conversation doesn't end the whole night and it's honestly refreshing. Overthinking is my speciality so when we don't stop jumping from one topic to the other, I have less time to focus on that. He's also really sweet. He's asking about everything I wouldn't tell another person about me but in the most non invasive way possible.

Dan mentioned you moved from egypt. That must’ve been hard. Why’d you leave. Where’re your parents?

You never talked when we first met, can't believe how fast you got on with Jared. How are you, Jared and Gen so close? 

"Yeah. I don't know, Jared's always been so...open, I guess. I'm very closed off and to have someone that both accepts that and also tried to help me with it, it definitely made me like him the second we met." He nods, checking his phone for a second. Probably the time. "Is it late? Should we head out?"

"No, no, that's not—" I think he notices that the question wasn't for his sake, but for my shivering body's, and he smiles. "You cold?"

"Nah," I play it off, leaning back in my chair though I'm still hugging myself and have abandoned my second cherry cola for the night. "I'm good. Hot as a bee."

"As a bee?"

"I don't know, okay? I'm shivering!" He chuckles and tells me to stay put, that he'll be right back. Five minutes later he's walking up to our booth, telling me to get up so we could leave.

"But my—" he hands me my visa and I smile, placing it in my wallet. Right as we're at the door of the bar he shrugs off his jacket to places it on my shoulders. My pink sleeves are visible as i hug the jacket around me and i smile up at him, he's walking me to his car and i quickly notice, shaking my head. Not wanting to assume, I quickly say, "bye, Jens. Thanks for today."

"Hm?" He seems confused as he open the passengers door.

"Jensen..." he already opened the door and I don't wanna seem rude but—

"Laila? You comin' in?"

"You don't have to, Jensen."

"I know. I want to. C'mon." I sigh and enter the car, letting him close the door behind me. I decide putting the jacket on right quickly before he makes his way to the drivers seat of his white BMW, which by the way— frickin' gorgeous.

"You know the way?" He asks as he starts the car. I still feel really, really guilty.

"Yeah, sure, it's only down the street. I could've walked." He looks amused and starts driving.

"Wasn't gonna let you walk anyways." I feel the heat rush to my cheeks and I turn on my phone to distract myself. I see notifications from Gen, Rachel and Adri. Then my mum who I didn't talk to today. But... no message from my bank.

"That's weird," I mumble and Jensen makes a  sound that I took as him questioning me, “I don't see the charge from the bar. It should've sent a message."

"Didn't charge your card." I quickly leave my phone to look at him. "Gave 'em mine."

"Oh my God!" I roll my eyes but he only looks amused.

"What? Did you think I'd let you pay?"

"You should've." I sigh. "Jensen you're like paying for everything. You got me new clothes—"

"They're Gen's. I thought you'd know that." 

"Obviously I know that, but I mean you had them delivered to my house, that costs money. And the bar. Only thing I paid for today was the coffee."

"What coffee?"

"I was studying at a café on the opposite street. I came a few hours early. Anyways, Jensen, please don't. You don't need to pay for every single thing. I know I'm not an actor— stop here, that's the house," he does park right in front of my apartment, "I know I'm not an actor, but I'm fully capable of—"

"Hey, what?" He puts the car into park and faces me. I start to take my seatbelt off.

"I know I'm not as good as the rest of you, like of course I'm not, I'm a student, but—"

"Laila, that isn't why I'm paying. I'd do it whether you were an actor or not— or if you had or don't have the money. It's cause we're going out."

Right. Like on a date? Instead of asking, though there's nothing more enticing, i let the silence take over. Then, "Yeah, I know. You're just nice like that."

"Is that a bad thing? I don't know if you'd rather pay next time—" next time? "But I don't think I'd let you."

"Yeah, it's fine. Still, thanks for tonight, you're honestly the most incredible guy I've ever met and I don't know why I really ignored you ever in the first place."

"We're all wonderin', sweetheart." We both laugh, the beer still clearly running through his system though he's only had two. I go to say my goodbye but notice how close we are. Way way way too close. Too too close. Maybe we should back up? 

"Laila," his voice's rough and slow and oh so seductive.

The car smells faintly of cigarette smoke and maybe that's what's Jens's scent smells slightly off too. Has he started smoking again? I'm not sure I can think logically like that right now because his hand is on my neck (how did it get there) and my breathing's erratic and his lips are moving closer to mine.

Not being able to take the tension and slow motion dance anymore, i lean in much closer to close the distance. "Jensen." I moan against his lips but I don't think it registers to him just how rough he's being because he's crashing our lips like it's our last time together, his tongue is exploring mine within seconds and I feel silly wanting to tell him that this is my first time now. 

Maybe he notices though, because only thirty seconds later our lips are disconnected and we're breathing heavily against the other though it wasn't that long, "Fuck, Laila, you're so good."

At kissing? That's a lie. "Really? 'Cause that was my first time, so..."

I see him straighten up, his hand slowly falling from the hold it has on my neck, "First what?" His hand is on my thigh now since I'm facing him by propping half my leg on the chair.

"Kiss."

"You're serious?" Nodding once, I notice how disheveled he looks. God, you'd think I told him he just took my virginity. Well, yeah, he would also be doing that.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper, hoping he'd hear me just enough, I stare at his hand on my thigh and feel stupid. God, this always happens. Anytime someone knows about me being a kissing-virgin they think I'm a prude or religious or something! 

I just haven't... I haven't had the chance. 

"Laila, no. Don't apologize." I almost do it again. "I'm not mad or anything just, should've told me. I mean, you kissed me."

"Yeah," I scoff. This is why I was so fucking scared. I know I kissed him first but he's saying it like he's accusing me. Like I'm a slut.

I've never even kissed anyone and the first time I do he's already looking at me like I kissed twenty men before him. My head's involuntarily shaking, saying no no no, and I try to open the car door. 

"Laila. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I let out a huff of exasperation, "What’s wrong is that I'm sorry I did that, I can't believe I did that." I slam the door closed and walk into my apartment complex.

His car door opens then shuts back up with a loud smack as he walks over to me in a quicker pace. "Laila!" He sounds too serious for me to ignore him. Rachel was right again. I didn't stop because I care and I want to listen, I stopped because I was scared of him.

"I don't know what you think I meant by that— but all I mean is that I was surprised. Are you okay? Are you regretting it, is that it?"

"No, but you said it like I was stupid for letting you kiss me— or me kissing you or whatever. You make it sound like I gave you my virginity or something."

His eyes widen. "Lils, I didn't insult you if that's what you're getting at. And is giving your virginity up to me that bad?" He smirks a little and it eases my heartbeat.

"Not what I meant, you know that." I mutter but it's weak and he knows it. He nods and walks closer to me, one hand on each of my shoulders. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing, please. I liked going out with you today, no matter how it ended. Do you want us to do it again?"

I nod. 

"Good, then we will. Stop thinking about everything. We had fun, you liked it. Stop torturing yourself, darlin'." 

"Yeah. Did you? Enjoy it, I mean."

He leans down to kiss my cheek, "'Course I did. Can't wait to do it again on Sunday." I smile so wide I can't even stop it if I tried.

"Me too." 

“Good.” He doesn’t let go and i look up at him through my eyelashes once before placing my hands on his face to force him to lean down and I kiss him again. I’m not sure what I’m doing— it’s only my first time, but I think I’m doing an okay job of moving against him. 

I’m sure he thinks the same way as his hands drop to my hips, pulling me closer. It’s only a few seconds but it felt like hours. When I let go of my grip on him and the kiss he smiles. 

“Sunday?” I nod, mirroring his expression. 

Our goodbye is so easy and quick it makes me forget that I still have his jacket on. 

And I only notice when I'm in my apartment, taking my (Gen's) clothes off, one or two hours later.

What I was doing in the time in between is irrelevant (since it consisted of texting Gen about every single detail except for the fact that I acted like a complete idiot at the end and getting her reaction then doing the same thing with Rachel and Adri).

It's almost two when I text him;

You get home okay?

You forgot your jacket.

Yeah, Lils, just fine.

And it's insurance that you'll come next time.

Pretty sure that'd mean you need to have something of mine. Not the other way around.

Nah, you're too nice to let my things stay at your place.

I laugh a little and send him a picture that I'm still wearing it over my pajamas (which are a green skin tight top and sweatpants).

Jeans and sweatpants?

Your jeans jacket is weirdly comfortable. I don't think it's jeans.

It isn't, much more comfortable, still looks good though.

Looks great on you.

Yeah?

Are we flirting right now? This hurts my head.

Well duh, I'm wearing it.

Not what I meant, sweetheart.

Maybe we are. I can't do this over text.

Okay and you're kind of hot in it too.

Kind of?

Didn't know you were so full of yourself, Jens.

Didn't know you liked my clothes so much that you're wearing them to bed.

I notice that I in-fact did send the picture with me in my bed. Whatever, no big deal.

Goodnight, Lils.

Night, Jensen.

part nine

guys okay guess which word comes to mind when I think of Jensen… omg, incredible you say? How’d you guess! Hahah I’m sure it was a lucky guess.

also incase you ever wondered I do have a face claim for Laila should I post it one time or does that ruin the way you see her? Let me know, maybe I can show her next chapter. Also, schools over, so hopefully many more series and more chapter of this one, to come!

@kr804573 @n-o-p-e-never

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [2]

chapter two, act one: antichrist

May 29th 2010

"You've what?"

"Changed the name of the band."

Comes the reply over the phone, "Why?"

Adam sighs on the other end, "Not sure, think Matty's going through an existential crisis again."

She snorts, "When is he not?"

She twirls the pen in her hand as she leans back, and lifts her feet to rest on her desk, "What's the name?"

"Uh, 19- sorry, the 1975."

She starts laughing, holding a hand to her mouth to hold it back, but the smile can be seen from miles away.

"He's very specific about the."

"Yeah?"

Adam hums, "Is it some kind of inside joke?" He asks, "Your tattoos? I don't get it, he won't tell anyone."

"Our little secret, Ads."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just glad I don't have to describe to girls why we're called Drive Like I Do, anymore."

"What girls?" She teases and she hears him laugh sarcastically on the other end.

It's silent for a few moments, and she picks at a string on her cardigan, "We've got another gig lined up."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a few, you gonna come up soon?"

She sighs, "I don't know, Ads, maybe."

"Matty uh, he bought your book yesterday. Was pissed I got a free one and he didn't."

She scoffs, "Didn't want him stealing my stuff again."

Adam laughs too, "It's great, Tommie, really. You're an amazing writer, you should do something with that."

"Maybe."

"No, you should." He says firmly.

She glances to the side, the little book sitting there staring at her, 75 pages of her own work. Her writing, her words, her poetry.

"Has he, uh, has he read it?"

"About a hundred times."

"Really?"

Adam hums, "We all have. It's good, Tommie." He hesitates a second, then adds, "Song worthy, band worthy."

"I'm not-"

"Yeah, I know. Thought I'd try again."

She wants to get off topic now, and talk about something other than her work. The thought of Matty reading it, understanding it, makes a red blush rise up her neck and across her cheeks.

"Did you hear what Nan and Granch are doing?"

"No." She can imagine his furrowed brows and confused tilted head, one that makes him look so much like their grandfather.

"Moving to France, or Spain, they haven't decided."

Adam laughs, "A place in the sun?"

"All the time, I can't come downstairs and see it on tele anymore, I'm going crazy, If it's not that it's an antique roadshow making him think he can become some sort of pawnbroker."

Adam chuckles again, "I think he's bored."

"I know, being retired doesn't suit him, he's trying to convince Nan to retire but she's still got four years before she's old enough."

"Doubt she will either, she loves her little break from him once a day."

"How is it over there?" He asks then, "At the McDuff household?"

"Great, actually, great."

"Tommie?"

She hums, moving her position so her feet are back on the floor, going back to staring at her notes for her English class, "How's things at the Fern household?"

"Well, dad's pissed he lost the custody battle. But, he did turn up to court drunk four times, so... that's his own fault."

"He seen you?"

"He asked me to go to dinner with him three weeks ago, still waiting for him to pick me up."

"What time was he supposed to be there?" Adam asks.

"Three weeks ago." She repeats slowly.

She hears him sighs, can imagine the pity falling off of him, "Tommie-"

She cuts him off quickly, not wanting the pity, "Nan's calling me, think dinner is ready, I'll call you monday when I get more credit."

"Okay, bye, Tommie."

"Bye, Ad."

Adam turns away as he hangs up, opening up the door again to step back inside Matty's place. Despite the early hour, seven thirty, both Ross and George are passed out on a sofa each. Matty's curled up on the beanbag he'd brought down from his bedroom, book in hand, glasses on, leaving the armchair open to Adam.

"She okay?"

"Yeah, revising for exams."

Matty nods, not tearing his eyes away from the page, "What do you think she means by 'watch my inane tears'?"

Adam looks up, "What?"

"In her one poem, she's written, 'the consequential ignorance, as you watch my inane tears', what do you think she means by that?"

"You know, if there was a poem in there about you, she'd have told me."

Matty closes the book, sending him something between a glare and an embarrassed look, "That's not what I'm trying to find out. I-"

He sighs looking away, "Your cousin is a very private person. She only reveals things she wants to, and I'm very nosy." The other boy just raises a brow slowly, "I'm trying to understand how her mind works, she's- so, I don't know, her mind is just- amazing."

"But," Matty asks, "What do you think she means?"

"Which poem is it?"

"The art of eye contact."

Adam remembers their conversation where she talked about it, "It's about her father, ignoring her and moving on to the next child. So, I guess she means like- I don't know." Adam shakes his head then looks at Matty, "But I have a feeling you think you do?"

"Well, I had to use a dictionary, no idea what inane means, or how to pronounce it. But according to the dictionary, it means, 'lacking sense'." Matty sighs, "I think it's her saying that her tears are worthless because they make no sense, she's been holding them back for so long at this point she's crying over things she doesn't need to cry over."

He looks up at Adam, "Is she okay? When you talked to her?"

"She's fine, Matty."

"Really?"

"Yup."

He nods, then he looks down at the page again watching his scruffy handwriting in blue ink beside the printed words as he reads the poem over and over until it's engraved in his head.

, by Tommie McDuff

-poem has been removed for ‘real life’ reasons-

(poetry competitions lol)

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

June 3rd 2010

Sixteen.

She thought maybe it would feel different but as she rolls over, noticing the yellow post-it note that's been placed on her pillow she sighs.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Working late tonight, see you then x

As she scrumples the paper up and tosses it into the plastic bin beneath her desk she lays back down in bed.

She thought being sixteen would be different, thought being sixteen would make her mother try and stay around for a birthday.

She sighs then checks the time, eight-thirty. She doesn't have an exam today, next one is on the eight, history and maths. She hates maths.

Hearing her grandfather tottering around downstairs forces her up, she smiles when her foot hits something and recognises her nans terrible wrapping skills lying at the bottom of her bed.

When she unwraps it she smiles at the soft fabric. A little knitted green cardigan lays inside and she lifts it up.

Her nan's been really into knitting lately, reading books on it until she perfects the little thing.

Tommie had asked for a new cardigan, the one she'd bought got caught on a door at school and ripped, she'd been heartbroken. It was her nannie's, the only thing she'd had of her after she died.

She pulls on some grey sweats, an old Stereophonics t-shirt then her new green cardigan over the top and heads downstairs quickly.

"Morning."

The dog, Taffie, is the first to greet her, the little Jack Russell that's still like a puppy despite her age of fourteen.

She leans down to pat the dog's side, smiling as she turns to lick at her hand.

"Good morning."

She stands quickly turning to the settee, "Hey."

"Cute slippers."

She rolls her eyes, looking down at the little cow slippers on her feet, "What are you doing here?"

Matty grins, looking up as her nan walks in with a cup of tea in her hands, "There you go, Matty."

"Thanks, Mag."

She settles beside him and then notices her granddaughter, "Tommie, happy birthday."

She gets back up to kiss her on the cheek and she smiles, "Thank you, and thanks for my present."

"Granch has got some pancakes on."

She goes back out into the kitchen with a promise of a cup of tea for her and then Tommie goes back to looking at Matty.

"Happy birthday, Tommie."

She smiles sitting beside him, "Thank you. But seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Fulfilling my life goal."

She rolls her eyes a little and shakes her head, "Matty..."

"What?" He shrugs a little avoiding her burning gaze.

She plays with the sleeves of her new cardigan, "It's four hours here from Manchester, and it's only nine."

"Actually, it's three hours and fifteen minutes, and I've been here since eight."

"Matty."

He shrugs, "I couldn't sleep, then I thought to myself, 'Wow my amazingly talented and funny best friend has her birthday today, I should go see her'."

"Thank you," She says again, "But you didn't have to."

"But, I wanted to-"

"Breakfast for the birthday girl."

She smiles at her grandfather as he walks in, he places a kiss on her forehead, "Happy birthday, my little flower."

"Thanks, Granch."

As he hands her the plate he checks his watch, "Oh shit, I've got to go. Late to go to the station."

He kisses her head once more, "Happy birthday."

"See you tonight."

"Tomorrow," He says as he leaves, "I've got to pick up a night shift."

Her nan shakes her head, "He's supposed to be retired. Always running off to 'look after' the engines."

Her nan sticks around until lunchtime, pestering both her and Matty to make sure they eat something before she leaves for her shift at work.

"What do you usually do on your birthday?"

"Sit around, watch tele, eat, cry, eat, watch more tele, eat."

He groans loudly, "Right, get up, put some actual trousers on, and some suitable footwear, we're going out."

"Out? Where, you've been here twice before. And got lost trying to find ASDA."

"I've been researching."

"You asked, Adam?"

He blinks at her slowly, "Get dressed."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Gonna tell me where we're going?"

He sighs, fingers drumming the wheel, "I have to, I have no idea where I'm going." She chuckles, "I was going to take you to that ice cream place, in Brecon."

She smiles to herself, "Third exit on this roundabout."

She turns back to look at him then with a smile, "You're taking me for ice cream."

He nods, looking over at her with his own little smile, "Gonna make it the best birthday ever."

"No need," She says, leaning forward to mess around with the radio, "Already is."

"We haven't done anything yet."

She shrugs, "You're here, I've left the house and we're on our way to get ice cream," She turns back to look at him as Katy Perry fills the car, "It's already the best birthday I've ever had."

His smile only gets bigger as he keeps driving forward, taking in the beacons and the sunlight peeking through the trees as they go.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Where are we going?"

She laughs and keeps running, dragging him behind her through the field until finally, they stop, she turns walking backward then falls flat on her back.

He chuckles, walking closer, "What are you doing?"

"I used to do this as a kid with Granch, star gaze. He's a big constellation freak. Come here."

He sits beside her then slowly leans back into the grass, "Bet you've never seen stars like this, Healy, huh?"

He tilts his head, "They're so much brighter."

"That's 'cause the street lights in the city put all the stars to death."

"Wow." He chuckles and she turns to look at him, "How poetic of you."

"Shut up, it's true."

He sighs looking up, "Okay, what are the constellations?"

She snorts, "I don't know, never really paid much attention."

He tilts his head, "That one looks like a blunt."

She snorts, "You're such a junkie."

"A junkie wanna-be, baby."

She scoffs, "A sycophantic junkie."

He raises a brow, tilting his head down to look at her, "Really? Sycophantic? Thought I'd at least be like prophetic level."

"Since when could you see the future?"

He turns fully onto his side, "I can predict the future."

"Go on then, read me, Healy."

He closes his eyes, hovering his hand over her face and she giggles, he peeks one eye open to look down at her, "Shh, I need to concentrate."

She purses her lips, looking up at him as he closes his eyes again, his curly dark hair falling across his forehead causing him to try and blow it up out of the way.

"I see... a band-" She pushes his hand out the way but he fights back to keep it there, "And- an album. Loads of money, big houses, parties, celebrities, red carpets-"

"Wow, like living an actual nightmare."

He opens his eyes now, "You wouldn't want that?"

She shakes her head, "Not for me. I'd rather have enough money to get by and live in a little house with a dog or two alone, for the rest of my life."

"That's a sad life." She shrugs her shoulders, closes her eyes, and lays down again.

Matty sighs, shifting a little. He's the opposite of her, never one for silence whereas she thrives in it.

"What would your superpower be?"

"Um..." She sighs, brows furrowed and eyes still closed.

"Reading minds."

"Boring."

She elbows him in the rib and he dramatically cries out, rubbing the area, "Why is that boring?"

"It's such a basic answer."

"You don't even know why."

"Okay," He nods, turning to her, raising his one eyebrow in a challenging way, "Why?"

She flicks his forehead, "So I could see what's going on in there." He catches her wrist moving her hand away.

He shakes his head laughing and she laughs too, moving up onto her elbows, "What? I'd love to see inside your mind."

"Why? It's a scary place."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But so I could see how you come up with your songs,. Like Lost Boys, ooh, and sex, where'd that one come from? I know for a fact little Matthew Healy never asked anyone to meet them in the back of his van."

"I did, actually."

"Lies." She calls him out immediately, then giggles to herself, "You sound like a paedo in that song."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Matty stops the car, pulling up the handbrake then looking over at her with a huge smile. "Home."

"Thank you." She says sincerely as she shrugs off the seatbelt.

"Happy Birthday, Tommie."

"Uh, you wanna stay? I can set up the spare room, it's in the attic and a little creepy but I'm not staying in there, so it'll have to do."

He chuckles, watching her pick at a string on her jeans, "I'm okay, I've got to get back anyway."

"This late?" She asks, she glances at the little watch on her wrist, brows furrowed and he chuckles at her confusion.

"Two twenty."

"At twenty past two in the morning? You've been here since early this morning, Matty, surely that's not healthy."

"I'll be fine."

"Healy."

He grabs her hands that pick at her thumb and squeezes it, "I've gone longer and further with no sleep, at least I've had a couple of hours."

She sighs, knowing he's too stubborn and she won't win. Nodding her head she opens her door and smiles as she leans down but he jumps up, unbuckling his seatbelt, "Wait, wait..."

He runs around to the back of the car, opening up the boot and calling her over. He takes a big case out and hands it to her but she hesitates, "Matt..."

"Happy Birthday."

"I-"

"Just open it, please."

She unzips the bag slowly gripping the guitar by the neck and then looks up to him. That adorable pout and head tilts of hers staring up at him.

"Matt."

"It's the one Alex Turner plays."

"I know." She smiles and nods quickly, looking down at the Fender Stratocaster in her hands. It's a dark green colour, her favourite.

She rubs her fingers over the colouring, plucking a few strings, briefly playing what he recognizes as a tune of crying lightning.

"I can't-"

"You can, it's a birthday present, can't give them back."

"It's too expensive."

"It's not just from me, it's from all of us."

Her shoulders drop quickly, "Is this some kind of ploy to get me in the band?"

"No, I think it was Adam's idea to get you to stop stealing his when you're over."

She looks down at the guitar again, she turns and sits on the edge of the boot, resting it on her thigh, "Play me something." He requests, hands in his pockets as he leans against the side of his car.

"What?"

"Anything."

She thinks for a moment, hands moving as she plays around, plucking a few strings here and there.

She finds herself doing a favourite of hers, C'est la vie by Stereophincs, she hums the lyrics a little as she goes on.

"See? Natural." He says.

After putting it back in the case, swinging it over her shoulder and looking up at him she smiles once more up at him.

A big toothy smile that has the corner of her eyes crinkling and cheeks tinting red in the cold air of the night.

"Thank you, Matty."

He nods hands still in his pockets as he turns away from his now closed boot, "Happy birthday, Tommie. Did I do it?" She raises a brow, asking him to explain, "Prove birthdays can be good."

She shrugs, "Not really." His whole demeanour changes, shoulders sagging and his smile falls. "Everyday with you is like this. Fun, adventurous, happy..."

His head lifts again, and he lifts a hand quickly to wipe away the curly dark hair that has fallen across his forehead.

She steps closer, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, "Thank you."

He nods, watching her step back again before turning to go into her house. As he gets in he doesn't see her turn back to watch him drive away. Or hear her mutter warnings to herself about having a crush on her cousin's best friend.

Who not only lives three hours away but is a good few years older too.

"Stop it, Tommie," She says, quietly closing the door, "He's your friend."

~thanks for reading! x

[lleldey]

May I just say what the hell is wrong with men? Like a genuine question. They have been testing my patience harddd for the last two months, and I’m just like— ✋🏼

This is prob a rant, but geez I need to get this shit out of my system. Today, a lovely day, intended to have a chill day, as yesterday I passed an exam in uni (which I’m very happy abt) for what I was having countless all-nighters; but my housemate was begging me to join her for some sort of party/friend gathering her co-worker invited her to.

Usually I decline. Not a fan of parties, even more so with people I don’t even know. But for the first time ever she was begging me to come, and I caved in when she said that people there are going to be on the older side and she feels uncomfortable going alone.

❗️First red flag, we arrive and we’re the only ones there. Def should’ve turned around at that point 🥲 That’s some serial killer move - saying there’s loads of people but turns out she’s the only one invited. In a small space. With a 40+ year old man. She’s in her early twenties.

Then he says some very rude and inappropriate remarks abt her ass, how she’s brainless for working where she works, her music taste and so on.

Then homie starts flexing his ‘open lifestyle’ - in other words how he has used every possible hard drug all his life. Which is fine, but a bit concerning especially after saying how his brain doesn’t work the same way it used to.

Then fairytales come in; suddenly he’s been in a relationship with a married billionaire woman, who’s husband tried to kill him and she basically paid for his whole life for months 🙇🏼‍♀️ ???? What

Suddenly he has been a professional basketball player with a big ass contract till he decided to move to another country?? What?? He literally works in a factory

Then he keeps spitting how awful are people who marry, as that shouldn’t define a relationship (which I agree to), but then some bs comes in as he first said he has never been married, then he has, then his ex-wife is a crazy bitch who blackmailed him. Then she’s suddenly with disabilities. Then she cheated on him and robbed him ?? What ?? (Later on the way back home my housemate said he completely bullshited everything as he said this story to her before with completely different details)

Had to listen to him bitch about his ex-wife for a good half an hour, which, dunno if anyone is still reading this, but trust me, if a man says his ex is a ‘crazy bitch’ - RUN. Trust me on this. One side is never the responsible one. And from my experience - later it turns out that the man was the crazy one.

Then homie gets pushy. Offers drinks one after the other (all refused), and then he pushes me like 6 times to smoke weed. My housemate was also like just smoke some, it’s fine. Took 2 puffs mainly for him to leave me alone, such small amount that it would do nothing. Then he started saying how much ‘I’m under it’ and what not - aha, no, all it did was make me sleepy and a bit fuzzy (still wondering whether he mixed something in it), like literally no effect.

At that point I’m sober, my housemate’s sober, but he’s having some major effects - he starts laughing like a maniac. Genuinely those laughs from horror movies. Needles to say I’m scared shitless.

He starts saying tomorrow he has to drive in town for some ‘serious business’, he mentions something about him needing to *drop it off* later somewhere. Instantly gather he’s talking about some criminal activities and try to end the conversation. He keeps pushing saying I want to know what he’ll do. I said around 10 times I don’t want to hear it. Sometimes the less you know, the better.

Start to make excuses saying I have to meet up with friends so we have to go. He insists we need to stay over, as he prepared his bedroom for us, even left some towels and he’ll stay on the couch. Yeah, not a shot. Fucking creep.

He very professionally sweetens his words and dubiously motions that I’m a bad person who manipulates him. What. Met him for the first (and last) time in my life. When I question him he does his maniacal laugh and says sarcasm. Kept going for good 10 minutes 🤨 continues saying the only bad person he has met is a dude who confessed on being a murderer and was prisoned for 11 years. What.

Aha, and this was only a fraction of those 3 awful hours. What the fuck. Ya know what’s sad - this genuinely wasn’t my worst interaction with men in the last two months alone. Don’t even want to think what could’ve happened if my housemate went alone.

That’s also the main reason why I wrote TDMOE; just wanted to feel some hope that not all men see women as mindless objects ready to follow their every command.

Yeah, this turned out to be a full-blown rant. Sorry abt this, but men have been eating my nerves alive for the past two months. Thank you if anyone actually read this.

Just a reminder to never-EVER lower your standards for any man. Trust me, it’s better to die unmarried but happy, than caged with an animal.

[xarrixii]

Chapter_18 : "Life + Lemons" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

“The entire point is that we receive short info snippets from an inside recruiter. You’re absolutely certain we should ask Blake?” Charlie, Afyer’s supervisor (although best known as Charles Acoprit), was smoking out in the lot, leaning against a black van. “Blake’s not much of a talker, you know that.”

“I know.” A smile crept onto Afyer’s face, poking his straw into the lemonade a few times.

“It’s been almost a month. I’m just making sure you understand what a waste of time and assets this could be if your hunch is wrong. Storm’s never recruited based on… what was it, mood? before.”

“Don’t be silly, Charlie, mood is what we feel when we read the notes. Tone is what our inside guy feels when they write the notes.”

“Difference is?”

“Nevermind. Is that Blake there?” Afyer gestures at the monitor Storm had in the middle of the lot’s ceiling.

“No shit, Sherlock. Wouldn’t be let into the garage otherwise.”

“Fuck you, Watson.” Afyer and Charlie jumped, simultaneously turning to face the person walking up from the elevator. They donned a smirk a few seconds later at Charlie’s aghast expression. “Damn, I have always wanted to say that.”

“Oh—Ah⸺”

Afyer beams. “Raijin? It’s a great honor to meet you in person. I’ve heard of your field work, you do amazing things out there. I always knew there were enough people dedicated to our cause to make a difference.”

Raijin looked taken aback, stuttering, “Er, right. Abolishing the system. That’s a new level of enthusiasm. Say, Charles, that is Blake driving up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Genius over here thought we may have found a gold mine. They’re not even passing their Cinder initiation, but Afyer’s insisting.” Charlie licks his lips a few times, stamping out their cigarette into the pavement.

“I needed an excuse to talk to him again anyway. Count me in.”

Afyer was the first to hold out a hand when Blake parked and exited his vehicle. “Hello! I’m Afyer Octave, Storm’s upper recruitment branch, former field operative.”

“The firecracker stage light incident?” Blake queried, impartial.

“You know!”

Blake redirects his attention. “Raijin, what the hell do these two want?”

Raijin shrugs. “I’d personally like to figure that out myself. Charles, if you could?”

“Uh, I think, this really was Afyer’s idea. I think, I think he should start off the explanation,” Charlie choked out.

Nothing could quite explain the amount of joy this prospect brought Afyer. “Of course! Now, you know future applicant 154? Pyrokinetic, still hasn’t passed an exam yet, ‘mostly not noteworthy’?”

“You called Blake up here over the words mostly not noteworthy?” Raijin cut Afyer off. “Are you trying to fuck around with our time?”

“Give credit where credit is due, I suppose. That recruiting bastard… Hasn’t asked for any of my input recently since I got stuck being the guy’s fucking exam buddy. Damn was upper recruitment a good choice for you.” Blake pinched his nose as Afyer lit up. “I’ll give the guy something, if Nacht can figure out the whole artificial kinesis tech, guy would demolish our electrokinetics if we made him one.”

“Oh, right. A PY that fights like an EK. Promising. You’re shitting me, right Blake?” Raijin steps forward and sets Afyer’s extended arm down.

“I think we’re forgetting the part he is staying conscious long enough to keep retaking that exam.”

“Not saying a lot.”

“Against me, Raijin.”

“Okay, fair point. But he still isn’t, y’know, worthy of Amaterasu’s attention, clearly must mean something.”

Blake mutters to himself. “I swear, Cinder knows I’m not one of theirs. It’s like they’re taunting me with this guy. Urban—potential applicant 154—hasn’t even shown off his fire. And he punched me in the face yesterday. I woke up a few hours later.”

“Brave, but stupid,” Afyer admits. “That must mean his kinetic is off the charts. Cinder has to be hiding one of their best operatives to date. Mmm, you’ve hit the jackpot this time, Afyer.”

Charlie blinks at him a few times.

Blake choose to ignore it, “I mean, he’s buddy-buddy with Amaterasu’s son for fuck’s sake.”

Afyer nodded along, taking sips from his lemonade all the while.

“Amaterasu has a child?” Raijin’s crossed arms fall apart.

“This is exactly why that fucking recruiter needs to talk to me more often than once every three months.” Blake takes a deep breath. “Afyer’s right. I think we need to go after a PY for once.”

“I’m a pyrokinetic, you know.” Afyer frowns.

“I meant it as in, like, we need to actively seek them out instead of them coming to us. You guys are monsters when you know what you’re doing.”

“Whatever. Charles, go let someone know about it later so we can get sailing on it.” Raijin begins walking back toward the elevator. “Blake, you up for a real sparring match?”

“Oh fuck you have no idea.” Blake runs after Raijin.

Charlie panics and wanders off with a new cigarette from his pack.

Afyer finishes off his glass of lemonade with determined glee.

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

= lemonade...? oh, nope, it's not the time for that yet

i wonder what these rascals are plotting

[losing-my-mind-in-the-mirror]

you called ? (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

hehe

hi sweetie, how are you doinggggggg, how was vacay, how is life going on!!!

I came online bc mr. conan fucking gray released a new song and i wanted to see how is it going with other ppl who like him bc i loved the vibe and its different from what he usually sings and everything.

speaking of songs, i liked the one you linked in my last ask a lot.

my exams are almost over, the last one is on 26th and the next ones are in like july end so yayyyyy

i am looking forward to some holidays if we will get any because its not confirmed yet and i do not trust my institute as they didnt give us any winter holidays either. but i do wanna learn something like dancing or driving or even swimming, if we get like a month of holiday bc i really wanna learn something useful i have started to feel like a useless person tbh bc i dont do anything productive with my time. i dont read i dont write i dont have a single fucking hobby. i am just on this damn phone watching web series and movies.

although my laptop is fixed now so ig i can start reading again.

i have a rack full of course book but i just dont feel like reading them. i go through a 300 page book in two hours, just skimming through and skipping half of the syllabus. and yesterday i didnt even study that much i just gave the exam according to prev knowledge which is so so so limited idek if i will pass. like i am sure out of 10 subject i am for sure going to fail in atleast 3 including the last one and barely pass by a mark or two in the other subs.

and if i wont get any holidays then i think we will join the institute before or by 15th of june and then we will have to settle in and maybe start preparing for orientation for the next batch of freshers and maybe get to participate in some inter-institute competions. bc there are like 9 branches and i am hoping i will make some friends from the other institutes so its going to be a lot of activities and chaos and i wish i will get to participate in something and they wont reject me for being completely useless everywhere. bc that, would be hella depressing. specially as i m already feeling useless and then other ppl will make me feel more useless, like gimme a break here.

i am going to try to stay positive about it though. as long as i can that is.

sorry for the long rant lol. have a good day, or night. <3

buh bye

love ya sm

-🐬

Omg 😭😭😭 you’re actually here??? 😭😭😭

Vacay was great, life is okay ig and I didn’t cry in like 3 weeks :D

Yeah I listened to it and I really like it!! I honestly don’t know what song that was I’m glad you like it ❤️🐬

Good luck for your exams!! You’re gonna do great!!

So wait when was the last time you had holidays?? That sounds super stressful I hope you get a few free days soon <33

You aren’t useless!! But that’s great, you learn the things you wanna learn! Speaking of learning I’ll probably start taking guitar classes soon 😁

I Hope you make new friends <3 if anyone says something mean or makes you feel useless I’ll kick their asses!!

Always feel free to rant my love <3

I was at a swim competition today again! I wasn’t really good because I was sick last weeks but it was fun and I’ll go dancing tonight so I’m excited for that already 💃🏽🕺

Love you so so so much 🐬🐬🐬

[khodorkovskaya]

04.01.23

i spent the whole day alone today, corrected a couple of things on the website and wrote 4 important emails with my stepdad over microsoft teams. and in the meantime i listed to eileen by ottessa moshfegh and read acts of desperation in one sitting. and god did it hit hard. here's another passage that really resonated with me:

"I wished I could unburden myself but I couldn’t verbalise what was happening because doing so would bring it into existence. So far, it was all taking place in my head with no verification from an outside party, and so long as I kept it that way I could suppress it. That urge you have with an envelope of results, delaying the future in which you are unwillingly privy to terrible news.

I knew also that if I began to describe more or less anything about Ciaran and what our relationship was like I would upset my dad. The split in me was so wide that these two states could coexist:

1. I knew that my relationship was strange and uneven and not reciprocal and that speaking about its reality would confuse and upset people who loved me.

2. I didn’t feel it to be those things."

i related so much to the narrator and how she felt in her relationship. i don't know if i could've ever cheated on B if things carried on for longer and i don't have a strong desire for pain like the narrator did, but i could still relate a lot. the passage where she sleeps with reuben and "could feel the silliness of sex for the first time in forever" made me cry so much.

the narrator's diary, the fact that she's always crying, her feeling pain but not knowing the reason and being confused in her feelings, her on and off thoughts about wanting to be thin... it all hit so close to home.

the book portrayed modern womanhood in such an accurate way. like we really are raised with this idea that we have to be dedicated to men but with no moral explanation behind it. it's never explained why we have to dedicate ourselves. there's no religious explanation anymore, nothing rational about it. so we grow up with this idea that we're only gonna be complete when we're in love, not understanding and not even questioning why. and then we find ourselves cooking intricate dinners for men with no tastebuds and having to justify why we don't want to have sex because "no" isn't a sufficient answer. we have it ingrained into our minds that things have to be that way. and at an age where you have to figure yourself out first, questions like this are even harder to deal with bc you don't even have the tools yet to deal with them. anyway, i feel like what im saying doesn't really make sense. but yeah i liked the book a lot.

yesterday i rescheduled my driving exam. the first date available was the 19th of april so i took it. i have my student license until the 21st of april so im just gonna have one chance lol. and if i fail oh well, i'll have to redo theory again.

i cried for 15 minutes straight after i rescheduled the test. i felt so stupid. and my stepdad was like "you have all these opportunities, you're so spoiled. i didn't have anyone to teach me but i was so determined to learn how to drive that i taught myself. and you have everything laid out in front of you on a platter and instead of being grateful you just cry." and that made me feel even worse. bc it's true that i don't have it as hard as many people do. and another person would've loved to be in my shoes. but i can't for the love of god understand how to drive. like i think im just stupid. there is no other explanation. ive had i don't know how many hours of driving and yet i still struggle like a complete beginner and it just gets worse and worse.

but anyway, as i was in the middle of crying, the car parked in front of us started moving and the guy was struggling so hard like he couldn't exit the parking spot. and i was like huh maybe im not too bad of a driver compared to some. and then the person in another car next to us was having an even harder time. they went back and forth, nearly bumped into the car next to them many times, kept turning the wheel left and right frantically. so i was like you know what, not all hope is lost! i can even parallel park without too much difficulty on a good day so there is still hope for me! and if those two people we just saw didn't feel bad for their imperfect driving skills, neither should i!

[sinner-as-saint]

my sweet love

Professor!reader x uni student!bucky 

Run-through: You run into an ex-student of yours at a cozy pub. You immediately recognize him given he used to be the troublemaker of the batch. You two start a casual conversation, which ends with a certain confession; which then causes the night to take an interesting turn… 

Themes: smut, fluff

You lifted your head up to look at who had just tapped you gently on the shoulder. You soon found yourself staring into a pair of blue eyes. Eyes which seemed so familiar. 

“Oh my god! Bucky?” your jaw dropped a little, in surprise. Bucky smiled back at you, casually leaning in for a hug like you were an old friend, instead of his ex-professor. 

“The one and only.” He beamed as he pulled away. 

Bucky was one of those students whom you could never forget; he was always the loud one, the joker, the pretty boy all the girls secretly had a crush on and he pretended not to know. He was smart, but a bit of a pain sometimes - especially since he spent half his time flirting with you. 

“Wow,” he eyed you up and down. “You didn’t change one bit. You’re still the gorgeous woman who stole my heart, I see.” 

His words earned an eye roll out of you. “This again? Seriously?” you chuckled as you remembered all those times he complimented you without any hesitation. He even got you flowers for Valentine’s Day each year. 

He fake gasped, pretending to be hurt. “You hurt me, woman. What do you mean ‘again’? I never stopped loving you.” he spoke, dramatically as he took a seat on the stool beside you at the counter. 

You rolled your eyes at him and you couldn’t help but take in his appearance. Lose tie, dark blue button down shirt, slacks; it gave away that he was here after work. “You finally joined your father’s company, I see.” you noted as you remembered how much he used to complain about never wanting to work with his father ever in his life. 

He smiled, remembering the same thing, “Yeah. Dad wanted to retire, so I volunteered to take over. You know, like a good son. Like a responsible, mature adult.” He gave you that same smile he used to give you back in uni whenever he said some stupid stuff just to get a reaction out of you. 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You still haven’t changed.” You smiled back at him. 

“You didn’t either.” He gave you a look which you couldn’t quite understand. But you would admit that he didn’t seem like he was the same man-child he used to be back in uni. “Let me buy you a drink.” He spoke again. You began refusing but then he stopped you with puppy eyes. “Oh come on, I met you after almost three years. I insist.” 

“Okay. Just one drink.” 

-

Three wines later, the two of you were still in deep conversations, laughing uncontrollably at all the funny anecdotes you shared of your time as his professor back in university. 

He set his glass down after his final sip and turned to face you. The lights were dimmer than earlier, or maybe that was just the after effect of the wine. But the blue in his eyes stood out even more now. Or maybe that was because he had inched closer to you over the past hour. 

“Do you remember that day when I gave you a ride home?” he asked. 

You widened your eyes and chuckled, “Yeah and it was raining like hell, right? Some idiot slashed my tires, and I never found out who did it.” 

Bucky chuckled quietly before biting his lip. “That idiot was me.” He waited for a reaction out of you, his heart racing. He calmed down only after you cracked a smile, which then turned into a laugh. 

You shook your head at him, this was years ago and you weren’t mad anymore. “Why did you do that?” you were genuinely curious. 

He sheepishly answered, “I just wanted to spend some time with you, go on a drive and you know…” he finished, embarrassed now that he was saying it out loud. 

You pieced it all together. “So that bit where you got lost driving around in circles and blamed it on the rain and fog, that was all pretend?” you asked, he covered his face with both hands and nodded. You laughed again and it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard. “Why? Do you know how much trouble you caused me?” you shook your head, still surprised at his confession, yet something about it was adorable. 

He removed his hands from his face and lifted an eyebrow, giving you his famous smirk, “I can make up for it, if you let me.” His tone changed, his voice suddenly sounding deeper. 

“Bucky.” You said it like a playful warning. You knew what he meant. 

He inched closer and casually twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. “What, I’ll be so good to you.” He looked up into your eyes, letting his eyes linger at your lips first, then giving you that puppy dog look. 

“Stop it. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me anymore.” You smirked. You didn’t know exactly where this was heading, but for now, you were going with the flow. 

He smirked back at you. “Does that imply that it worked in the past?” 

“Bucky.” You used the same reprimanding tone as before. 

He chuckled. “God, I still fucking love it when you use that tone on me.” 

His words made you giggle. You took another look at him and smiled. He was adorable. You stopped yourself before eyeing him any longer. “It’s late, I should go.” 

He grabbed your hand gently, holding it in his much larger, warm one. “I fell in love with you in my second year.” He said it, finally. 

You chuckled. “Okay, that’s it.” You pulled your hand from his and stepped down from the stool and faced him with a genuine smile. “It was nice seeing you again. Make sure you get home safe, alright?” the professor in you added the last part, caring for anyone younger than you became a personality trait at this point. 

You turned around to leave, and he followed you with a loud, dramatic groan. “Don’t walk away, I just proclaimed my love for you and you’re leaving me stranded and alone here? Come on,” he complained after you as you stepped out of the pub. You had a silly smile on your face the whole time, laughing at his silliness. 

He caught up with you right outside the entrance of the pub, pulling you aside on the sidewalk. “Listen to me,” he grabbed you gently by the waist, pulling you closer. You would be lying if you said that this proximity did not give you any butterflies at all in your stomach. “I don’t know how to say this, but I feel things for you, I-,” 

You cut him off, chuckling. “Bucky, what you feel is called an academic crush. We all went through it at some point, even I did. You need to calm down-,” 

He cut you off again, leaning closer, smirking at first but then getting all defensive. “My poor little heart. How dare you just crush it like that, ma’am?” and he made you laugh again, you were beginning to feel just a little buzz from the wine. 

You shook your head. “Go home Bucky.” you got out of his embrace and walked away, keeping an eye out for a cab. You found one rather quickly, and once you got inside the other door opened as well and it didn’t come off as a surprise when Bucky settled right beside you. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Now what, you’re gonna follow me home?” 

He shrugged, “I found you after three years, I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if you make me sleep on your porch, I will-,” 

You shut him up abruptly by placing a finger right on his lips. “Shh.” you giggled, the wine definitely giving you more than just a little buzz. “You are such a baby.” Bucky watched you in awe. He didn’t know where this was going either, but he liked it so far. 

He didn’t lie when he said he fell for you in his second year. He remembers the day like it was yesterday. He was stressed out, late at night in the library on the eve of an exam. And he remembers how you walked in and found him struggling so you helped him out. He remembers how patient you were that night, and that was also the first time he behaved and actually paid attention to what you were saying. And he aced the exam. He realized that night that no one was ever going to be this kind and gentle, and attentive towards him. No one but you. And just like that, his heart fell for you. 

While in the cab, he tried to hold your hand but you giggled and pushed him away each time. “Why do you hate me?” he asked, faking a frown. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“Why don’t you love me back then? I’m good-looking, I’m funny, I’ve got a nice job and everything-,” 

You cut him off, “Because I used to be your professor a couple of years back Bucky.” You laughed quietly at how he groaned loudly when you said that, throwing his head back against the seat and everything. 

“This again, oh my God!” he groaned. “You used to be my professor. Past tense. Not anymore, and I really, really l-,” 

You cut him off by telling the driver that you had reached your destination. Bucky sighed but still followed you out of the cab and into your home. “Woah,” he looked around. It was a lovely home which you were grateful enough to be able to afford so you just smiled back at him. 

“Now what?” you asked, unintentionally smirking. 

“What’s the hurry, ma’am?” he approached you and you rolled your eyes. 

“Bucky…” you warned him again, playfully. 

“Okay, I deserve at least one chance to prove myself.” he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to look like he was making sense. 

You sighed. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re a brilliant young man, and you-” he cut you off by leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your mouth moved against his wonderfully, you felt him smile through the kiss as he pulled you closer. He placed his hands on either side of you, his torso pressing into you, you smiled through the kiss again. Your hands found their way into his hair and you lazily ran your fingers through his soft hair.  

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I first saw you, you know that?” he whispered softly along your skin as he kissed, and bit down your neck and the side of your throat. You giggled in his arms, pushing him away playfully. But he came right back and held you even tighter. “Don’t push me away, not now.” he whispered in your ear and you found yourself shivering at the tone he used. 

You felt something shift in the air; it was a pleasant shift. You could no longer ignore the sparks which flew in between the two of you. You pulled away just a little to look into his eyes and that was it - you stopped thinking and analyzing; you just did what felt right. 

You found yourself leaning in again, and his lips met you halfway. You smiled into the kiss and tugged on his hair, gently but firmly as his tongue slipped into your mouth once again, slowly stroking the top of your mouth. Your lips moved perfectly together, Bucky nibbled on your lip and kissed your open mouth hungrily. His hand slipped under your top and he caressed your skin with his slightly cold hands; tracing imaginary shapes right under your boobs – most definitely leaving behind goose bumps where his fingers touched you so gently. 

You let out a little moan, and you felt him smirk right after. He pulled away to look at you, a lovesick look on his face and lust in his eyes. Your lips parted as you gasped for air; breathless after his kiss. 

“Bedroom?” you asked, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth. His soft lips pressed against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Nope,” he kissed along your jaw till he reached your ear where he whispered, “Your study.” 

You let out a giggle. “What?” 

He pulled away to look at you. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your desk.” His bluntness made you giggle. “Please let me.” he whispered in your ear again, making you shiver in anticipation and need. 

Fuck… 

Needless to say, once you gave him your approval; he rushed you upstairs. The two of you unable to keep your hands off each the whole time; stopping every two to three steps to pin the other to the wall and kissing each other like your life depended on it. 

Once you made it to the study room, Bucky’s hands and lips were on you again, not letting go for even a second this time. He kissed you with ardor, a moan escaping your lips and you whimpered with need as his hand reached your lower back and stopped right on your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smirked at your reaction and did it again while walking the two of you backwards until he sat you down on the edge of your desk. 

He pulled away to look at you, “You okay?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt. Oh you were more than okay. You nodded at him, biting your lip and reached out and helped him unbutton his shirt faster. Bucky chuckled at your lack of patience and leaned in to kiss you again. Your hands found their way over to his toned chest, you traced his muscles with your finger tips and he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. “I want you. Now.” 

He leaned in for another kiss, this time slowly lifting your top up until he finally took it off and tossed it aside carelessly, leaving you in just your skirt. He inched closer, your bare skin touching and making you want to moan again. His lips slowly moved along your jaw and down to the side of your throat, leaving dark red marks behind on your skin. 

You whined as he reached out and slipped his hand under your skirt, he ran his knuckles along your wet folds through your underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. He smirked against your lips, “You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding your underwear down. You moaned as you felt his fingertips gently trail down your legs, he eventually got down on his knees, spreading your thighs further apart. 

He placed a kiss on your inner thigh and you gasped. He reached out with his two fingers and gently circled your clit, gathering your wetness from your folds and smearing it around. “Did I do that?” he asked, smirking. You threw your head back and moaned as he lazily toyed with your folds, knowing exactly where to touch you to get you going. “Answer me,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up and down your thigh. 

You looked down, bit your lip and let out a pathetic yes. He smirked and placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your clit mercilessly. 

Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must have leaked onto the table by now. “So sweet…” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. He moaned as he ate you out. You whimpered under his touch, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

Your arousal drenched the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming above him. He had been dreaming about this very moment since the day he first saw you. Part of him thought that he would never end up with you one day, but now that he had you, finally all to himself, he wasn’t planning on letting you go just yet. 

“Fuck…” you moaned out loud; your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again.

His intense blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.

You came violently all over Bucky’s tongue, body shuddering and shaking while you moaned his name out loud. It gave him an unfamiliar, but pleasant rush when he heard your strained voice moan out his name. Oh he had dreamt of this so many times, but none of his dreams felt this good. He kissed your inner thighs and licked you clean before standing back up. 

He smiled at you before gently pushing you back down on the table. Bucky leaned down and his mouth latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as his teeth teased the bud and your back arched off the table in pleasure; whining. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged on his hair softly, making him groan. He kissed his way up to your neck once again as he aligned his cock to your core. You could feel his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your clit. 

Slowly, he slipped inside of you, groaning at how tight you were. You felt his length stretching you out entirely. He panted as he started rocking in and out of you slowly. You moaned out loud, feeling all of him; stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was his body. 

He hovered above you for a moment, looking down at you softly; watching you moan and squirm as you struggled to take his cock. “Does that feel good?” he stared deep into your eyes, his own filled with lust. “Yeah, you like my big cock inside your tight little cunt, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, leaning in to just press his lips against yours. 

He moaned out loud as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, you gasped at how he filled you up and stretched you out. He kissed along your jaw. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long, you have no idea.” He murmured into your ear. “Now I’m not gonna let you go until you cry from coming too hard around my cock, you hear me?” 

You weren’t sure if you responded to that but regardless, he fucked you like an animal. “Fuck… you feel so good…” he whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to kiss your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and mewls in the process. You whined upon hearing the wet, slapping sounds your bodies made when they came in contact with one another. Mixed with his scent and the growls leaving his mouth, it was all too sinful. 

“Look at me.” He stared down at you, his ocean blue eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. You could only nod, unable to form coherent sentences while he pounded into you like he owned you. He leaned in again, kissing you softly. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, huh?” he whispered against your lips. 

You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you, he wanted to feel all of you and he wanted you to feel all of him. 

He was relentless. 

He growled right in your ear as his body moved perfectly against yours. You whined; feeling a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies as your walls milked him perfectly. A tear escaping your eye, out of pleasure. He was quick to wipe it away. He bent down and kissed your lips, pounding into you rapidly like his life depended on it.

Bucky felt you clench and tighten around him, “Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. Your mind was foggy by now, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you; his cock throbbing against your walls. He came with a growl, gripping your hips. You whined as you came around him as well. Swear words flowing out of your mouth like a chant as you felt his cum dripping out of you as he slowly slipped out of you. His body went limp and he fell in your arms. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again. 

“So did I do good, ma’am?” 

[jishyucks]

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

i.

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

v.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

-

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

-

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

[lucy90712]

Wilbur soot- your new boyfriend

we- 2217

A/n I’m really like this one so hope you guys do too

~ Wilbur soot - Your New Boyfriend  (OFFICIAL VIDEO)

10,400,000 views

Wow. That's a hell of a lot of views. My friend Wilbur just realised his new song yesterday and it's doing so well I'm so proud of him, I know he worked really hard on this song and filming the music video which he roped me into helping with. I have listened to it about a million times that I know every chord off by heart even though I don't play music its just ingrained in my head now.

I felt like listening to it when I got up this morning while I brushed my teeth and washed my face so that's what I did. This time I really listened to the lyrics and I really took them in instead of it just becoming a blur and I had a realisation that may be really stupid.

Me and Wilbur have been friends since we were 17 when we went to college and had always kind of flirted with each other because thats just the type of friendship we had, a lot of people thought we were dating but we never officially moved past being friends even though at some points I wanted to. When we finished college we both went to different universities but they weren't far from  one another so we often used to see one another but of course life was different. By different I mean I got a boyfriend which meant that the flirting stopped and the connection between us kind of crumbled but we reconnected a few years later which brings us to pretty recently. Just a few months ago I broke up with the before mentioned boyfriend because he cheated on me and overall became not a great guy.

You see now I have put my brain to listening to lyrics I can't help but wonder even just a little bit if the song is about me. Now I know that sounds very narcissistic and self centred but the story just seems to match so well and yes the song is meant to be comical and satirical but there is something in my brain telling me that there is a slight real life influence there.

Now I'm really nervous because I'm going to Wilbur's place in a few hours and I don't know if I can just forget about this because of course it can be nothing and just a coincidence but that chance that it is something is really bugging me. Wilbur is definitely going to notice if I act weird which is what I'm really worried about because I don't want to have to talk about it.

Another predicament that I have now subjected myself to is the slight feelings I have for Wilbur which feels so wrong because it's not been that long since I broke up with my last boyfriend but I can't help it. Wilbur was there from the moment we broke up and helped me get over it and doing that while we rebuilt our friendship just made our connection grow deeper and give it a new meaning to me. It's not something new either just because if the closeness there was many times in the past that I had feeling for Wilbur but just never did anything about it because I always felt like he never felt the same. Wilbur had always been the first one to say that we weren't dating when people asked or suspected something.

I wanted to look nice for when I went to Wilbur's because most of the time especially recently he has seen me crying or just looking like a mess. I decided to wear my black acid wash mom jeans and a cute crop top that a friend made for me because she loves fashion and felt that I needed a new look after my breakup. To complete the look I even put on a little bit of makeup but not a whole lot because I have never been one to wear loads of makeup and I styled my hair which I may have cut since the last time I saw Wilbur because I felt the need to just get rid of some of it but it was still cute.

It got to 1:30 and I got my shoes on to begin my walk to Wilbur's place which isn't that bad once you get used to it which I am by now but I always have to be listening to something to stop the noise of the traffic driving me crazy. As usual my everyday playlist went on shuffle but of course it had to do me dirty by playing jubilee line which don't get me wrong is a great song and I love it  but right now I don't need to be reminded of the war going on in my brain in fact I'm trying to forget about it until I get there at least. My playlist really was being a bit of a bitch today because every few songs it would play one of Wilbur's songs just after I had forgotten about things from the last song.

By 2pm I was just down the road from Wilbur's house and my hands were starting to get a bit clammy from the nerves building in my body, despite this I had to go in because I did not walk all this way to back out and go all the way back home. I got to the door and rang the doorbell then waiting for a figure to appear and open it, this didn't take long so before I knew it Wilbur was right in front of me giving me a big bear hug which he is so good at.

He welcomed me in and dragged me up the stairs to his bedroom so that we don't annoy his roommates. Like always the two of us sat on the floor because we are just those types of people although it did start when we were in college and we used to do homework and revision together, those were the good old times when we had no issues in our friendship. He grabbed something from under his bed and put it in between the two of us, it was a monopoly board which is just so typical of Wilbur.

"Come on you can't tell me you don't want to play like we used to all the time" he said

"You're right I'm not going to say that so let's bring it on I may have practiced a few times so prepare to lose" I joked

He shook his head at me and we set up the game both prepared to try and absolutely destroy one another. This didn't go to plan because I quickly made some bad decisions which put me in a very bad place to the point that if I were to land on any square that Wilbur owned I would be out the game but I still had hope. I was right to have hope because the game quickly turned around because I made it past go without landing on any of Wilbur's squares however he had didn't have that luck and landed on pretty much every square of mine and having to give me a large chunk of his money. The game soon ended when Wilbur couldn't recover from the hit of the last round and quickly ran out of money and I became victorious.

"Yes I told you I'd been practicing" I said

"What is that the 4th time you've beat me out of all the times we played" Wilbur tormented

"Oh shut up and let me have this" I said

"Ok ok but next time I'm for sure going to beat you" he said

After that we just kind of laid down next to each other looking at the ceiling as it if were the sky Which really reminded me of one of my favourite memories that I have. One night after the both of us had finished our last exams at uni I went to meet Wilbur and we walked around London during the dead of night and then laid down on a grass patch to stare at the starts which were unusually visible for the city sky. Nothing particularly special happened just the thrill of being done with uni and galavanting around the city when it felt like we shouldn't be out made it so memorable.

I was quickly dragged out of my memory when something brushed against my hand and stayed in contact with my pinky finger, I tilted my head to see what was going on which would of been pretty obvious but Wilbur's hand was right next to mine with our pinky's overlapping. This made my heart start thumping and my forgotten thoughts from earlier come to the forefront of my brain yet again. It's the most ridiculous thing that I'm so caught up on it and too scared to say anything out of fear of ruining my reconciled friendship when I know that no matter what I say nothing will change between us because it hasn't before even when we kissed that time.

Flashback

The bottle stopped spinning with one end pointed at me and the other at Wilbur. Oh shit. This can't happen it really can't. What if this changes everything and things become awkward? I can't live without Wilbur I spend all my spare time with him and even time when I should be revising or doing homework.

I'm never going to forgive myself if I do this and it changes our friendship but at the same time I have to do it or that will make me look like a loser and will probably fuel the rumours that the two of us are secretly dating although doing it isn't going to help that much either. I could see the same dilemma going through Wilbur's mind but we gave each other a look and went for it.

The both of us leant in letting our lips meet gently to start with before some of the other guys pushed out heads closer together. I won't lie the kiss was nice and felt like along time coming really with the amount that the two of us harmlessly flirt but it also didn't feel like there was the right meaning behind it. You could tell that we were both worried about changing the friendship and so there was no real meaning behind the kiss.

End of flashback

Now that was a terrifying day. This felt different though there was no one willing us on and there has been no pressure on us to date for years now that it is just natural and not forced which made it feel all the more special. I decided to just go for it and if it goes wrong then oh well at least I tried and can never wonder what my life would be like if I'd of just followed my heart.

I laced our pinky's together fully making sure my grip was tight enough that Wilbur got the message which he responded to quickly by moving his hand out of mine for a split second before grabbing hold of my whole hand and lacing all of our fingers together. He squeezed my hand turning his head to look me directly in the eyes which made my neves spike for a second before I got control again and stared back at him. I couldn't help but let out a small nervous laugh which I noticed causes a small smile on Wilbur's face.

"You know your face is just so pretty" he said

"Is this you trying to say something? I questioned

"Maybe but it depends on if you want to hear it" he said

"I definitely want to hear it" I replied

"Well if it wasn't obvious by now I have some feeling for you and honestly I have on and off for ages but I get if its too soon" he said

"It's not too soon and in fact the timing couldn't be better" I said

We exchange no more words for the time being and instead sat up leaving into kiss each other for the second time in our lives but it was definitely different this time. This time there was true feelings behind it that weren't nerves they were true feelings of adoration and even maybe just a little bit of love but it's too soon to tell that yet. He needed no encourage this time to deepen the kiss instead he put all of his energy into it from the start to show how much he really meant what he was saying. The two of us pulled apart after what felt like an eternity but in reality it was no more than 20 seconds.

"Wow just wow" I said

"That about sums it up" Wilbur said

"I have to ask because its been bugging me is your new boyfriend about me?" I asked

"Yeah it is I'm surprised you didn't realise sooner how may time of you heard it" he joked

"But lets forget that can I be your new boyfriend?" He asked

"Of course you can but you might need to write a new song" I said

[lailawinchesterr]

part nine, in a good way [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

nine,

C'mon I know this. Explain S phase. I know this. DNA replication. I know what he's talking about but all I can think of is yesterday. All I can think of is Jensen driving me home, kissing me, texting me after.

Getting me lunch, clothes, paying for our drinks... everything he did yesterday. I'm wearing his jacket even today because God that cologne can kill.

But that's not the point. The point is... S phase? What's S phase? Right, DNA replication. So... hydrogen bonds break then... 

But his hand on my neck yesterday, pulling me closer while we kissed. My first kiss ever. With Jensen Ross Ackles. Then him saying he wants to do it again later. What's later? He said Sunday but it's his busiest filming day, maybe it's for drinks again? I wouldn't mind, but I'd rather we go eat.

"Pens down!" My eyes widen and I place my blue ink pen down into the table, hearing it clatter and my whole future crashes with it. I haven't finished quarter of this paper. I thought the exam was two hours?

"Laila," the TA ‘tsks’, Connor, as he looks down at my paper, "you didn't finish this question. It's easy, you should know it."

"I do, just don't have time." He looks around, seeing most of the students getting up and handing their paper to the professor at the end of the class. He motions to me to quickly write it down and I don't think I've ever written so fast in my life.

I manage to finish the six mark question just in time for him to take my paper and hand it to the professor without much suspicion. I pack up and while I'm walking out he winks at me. 

Choosing to ignore the shit exam, I call Gen so we could go out for anything really. Usually set would be my go-to but since yesterday with Jensen there's something holding me back from casually walking into set, maybe afraid that our dynamic would change. I haven't been there since we talked.

I change my mind half-way through writing the message to Gen. I don’t want to let what we did yesterday affect me this much. He's probably working normally, focusing on his fucking job, so why can't I focus on my future? This is so stupid, I don't do this. I don't let romantic feelings get in between me and my grades. Not since I failed a whole year because of a boy back in middle school, not happening again, ever.

I decide to do what I usually do on Fridays, study on set with Jared. I won't change my routine.

+

"Hey, Lils." Rachel calls out and immediately she hugs me. "We haven't seen you in forever."

"Two days, Rach." I let out a laugh as we let each other go.

"Two days too many. C'mon, we're getting lunch. Or they're making lunch— either way!" We walk over to crafts where lots of tables are set and most of the cast is sitting in groups. She drags me over to the table with Gen, Jared, Misha and Alex.

"Hey, guys." And for the first time in the history of ever, my seat is between Jensen and Rachel. And I actually sit in it. "How's filming?"

Misha smiles at me— that's the most noticeable response to my action, anyways— but everyone else just answers my question then keep talking about scenes and plans for the weekend. 

Then, "Lils, how was your exam?" Gen's question makes me freeze for many reasons. One, it reminds everyone how much younger I am than them, something I like not bringing up as much as physically possible. Second, it puts me under the spotlight and I can not lie for the life of me.

So I hum and nod, hoping that's an acceptable answer for the whole table (who probably don’t care that much anyways). And thankfully they shrug it off and keep talking. 

Two seconds into random conversation Jensen scoots his chair closer to mine, whispering into my hair, "How'd you do today?"   

Smiling, I face him to look as honest as I can, "It was fine. Just didn't have enough time to finish it." He seems genuinely concerned as he puts a hand on the back of my chair. 

"Yeah? You think you'll do well? 'Sides, you said this is a mock, when's the final?" I'm not actually sure when I said it was a mock but the fact that he remembers is giving me butterflies in places that shouldn’t have so much feelings in them. My heartbrainlungs.

"Hopefully I'll pass. But yeah, just a mock. Final's in two weeks." I keep my voice low so as to not disturb the rest of the group, but Gen is already giving me a look and I can feel Rachel's eyes burning into my side. 

"Laila, you sure you're on for Sunday?" Damn, this again? "And don't go defensive on me—" 

"I know, Jensen. I'm not. Yeah, Sunday's good," and for extra measures, "and today had nothing to do with our date yesterday."

"Date, huh?" The corner of his lips pull upwards as he leans back in his chair and I roll my eyes. I go to shove his shoulder, like I would with Jared or maybe even Misha, but quickly decide against it and look down at my bag instead with a small laugh. 

Now that grabs the entire table's attention. Before I can explain anything— thank the Lord— a PA runs up to us, calling on Jared, Jensen, Misha and Alex. 

The four men leave and that allows my two girls to huddle up next to me, screaming for an explanation. God, this feels like high school all over again.

"Nothing, we're just friends now. Who went on one date," I flinch back a little before adding, "and have another one planned for Sunday." They both explode into a fit of giggles and now I really feel like it's high school.

"You're joking! You have a date with Jensen, again?" Rach's question is both due to curiosity and... concern?

"Yeah. So what?"

"So... Lils, we talked about this. You told me I'm right." She says exasperatedly, and I can see it in her eyes that she's as concerned as an older sister would be, but still.

"Yeah, so what—"

Gen clears her throat. "Right about what?"

"Jensen's older than me."

"Well, no shit."

"See?" Rach points at the brunette, "Genny agrees."

"That what? That they're a bad idea? No way! Jensen and Laila could be good for each other, the age thing is just a little bump in the road. They need to talk about it ‘s all." I have to hold in a laugh at how ridiculous her suggestion is. Me? And Jensen? Communicating? Why? Have I lost my head?

"Guys, we don't even know if me and him are, like, getting serious, it's just a tiny date." Of course, I'm only saying what I think Jensen wants. I've never been on a date, never had a boyfriend, never kissed or had my first time. Jensen is my first everything if he decides he wants me for the long haul— but he's had all that. And more. He has kids. 

I can't think about this. If I do, I'll drop everything and block Jensen's number and maybe even overreact by killing myself. 

Great. Sunday is going to be great.

part ten

i want to change the oc to x reader when I’m done with the whole thing, what do you guys think? tags: @kr804573 @n-o-p-e-never

[headheartbellarke]

LIGHT A FIRE IN MY EYES | Owen Patrick Joyner

PAIRING(S): Charlie Gillespie’s sister!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner

WARNING(S): fluff, angst

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY: where Y/N is charlie gillespie’s sister, and while living with him and owen, unexpected feelings rise up. (im so bad at these)

READER’S POV

    A rhythmic knock on my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance. I push my glasses further up my nose and close my physics textbook, dropping my pencil between the pages to bookmark it. Pushing myself off the chair, I stretch my arms above my head – I’ve been sitting at my desk for about five hours now, trying to revise everything for my exam tomorrow. I walk over to my door, and unlock it, and I’m greeted by my brother, Charlie. He takes in my appearance and frowns.

     “I thought you were still sleeping. When did you get up?”

     “Uhh…” I trail off, looking behind me at the clock mounted on the wall opposite to me. 10:30 AM.  “About 5, yeah.”

    I turn back and notice my brother widening his eyes. “Are you okay, little one?”

    I’m not a morning person, under no circumstances ever. Growing up, I’ve always been the last person to wake up – Charlie being the first. So, I guess it’s awfully unusual for him to hear this.

     “This is college, honey. You wouldn’t know.” I shrug at him and he grins. I’ve always hated the fact that he got a free pass from college, since he’s an actor.

    That is also the reason why he’s here. We grew up in Canada – Charlie, me, my two other older brothers and my twin sister Meghan. Growing up, Charlie, Meghan and I were inseparable – since we’re closer in age – Charlie’s only two years older than Meghan and me. But I had to leave home for college – I got into Caltech, and that was not an opportunity I was about to give up, even though Charlie protested so many times that I’m apparently the baby of the house and I shouldn’t go to another country alone.

    Now, he’s living with me – he is shooting for his show, Julie and The Phantoms (proud sister, here), and they have a couple of scenes and some recording to do in LA, so he’s staying in my apartment for a week, along with his friend, co-star and roommate back in Vancouver, Owen. Previously, they lived with me for more than a month when they had to go through musical bootcamp or something for the sake of the show. (So proud.)

    That was also when I’d developed a massive crush on Owen.

    Charlie was living with me for a good two weeks when, one day, he took me out to meet the rest of the cast. (Who were all lovely, by the way.) On the drive there, he told me that Owen had been living in a hotel since he’s originally from Oklahoma, and that Charlie’s thinking of asking him to come live with us, if I was okay with that. Of course, I had said yes. I had ample space in my duplex apartment and living alone is boring. So, Charlie introduced me to Owen and we immediately hit it off. Of course, I thought that he was incredibly attractive when we met. But I meet a lot of attractive people at university.

    Then, we started living together, and I realized how amazing Owen actually is. He’s an absolute dork – but he’s also funny, very kind, thoughtful, compassionate, altruistic and so, so nice. Both of us have a lot in common, and there’s always been this unsaid, unacknowledged chemistry between us that a lot of the other cast members had picked up on. (Not my brother, though. He would have killed Owen.) We had so much fun when we were together – he turned everything into an adventure. The best part was that I got to be myself, completely, whenever I was around him. I got to talk about whatever I wanted with him – he never, ever judged me.

    Before they went to Vancouver when production for the show began, we had a last night out with the rest of the cast and a bunch of family members – except the kids. We went to this bar near my college. I was so, so drunk and then I suddenly started feeling queasy and Owen offered to take me home since Charlie was in the same position. There was so much traffic and Owen and I kept singing whatever song was on the radio to pass the time – LA traffic – when we were both leaning across our seats and we started kissing. I remember feeling like I would burst from the happiness and the softness, the affection, the admiration that he had in his eyes when he looked at me.

    Of course, I fell asleep pretty soon after the traffic dissipated and woke up next morning to find him packing for his trip. That was when I’d realized that no matter how much I liked him, we could never be together. First of all, long distance relationships almost never work out, and secondly, he’s my brother’s best friend. That was why I chose to just give him a quick hug goodbye and head to college – without even bothering to drop them off at the airport, or even talking to him.

    He texted and called a couple of times after that, too. But I never responded, never even opened any of his texts – because I knew that once I do that, I would definitely call him. That went on for a week, and the only time we spoke was when he’d texted me from Savannah’s phone: why are you ignoring me? I texted back all the reasons why we couldn’t ever be together, and I didn’t hear from him for another week, until Charlie called me the day before yesterday, telling me that they have a couple of scenes to do in LA, along with some recording stuff, and they’ll stay with me for a few days. I had to approve, or else Charlie might figure out everything.

    They arrived yesterday, and I think that I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring him so far.

    Charlie’s voice breaks me out of my train of thoughts. “You have exams or what?”

    I nod. “Applied physics, tomorrow. Are you going out?” I ask, pointing at his dark blue jeans.

     “Madi and I are writing this song together. You’ll love it.”

    I smile at him. “If I’m not the first one to hear it –”

    He hums, a chuckle escaping him. I lean against the doorframe, as he continues, “Owen just woke up. He doesn’t start his scenes until tomorrow, so I told him to take care of you today, while I’m away.”

    I ignore the way my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name and flatten my lips. “I’m 19, Charlie, I can –”

     “Take care of yourself, blah blah blah. I don’t care.”

    I roll my eyes, and playfully shove him forward. He stumbles a few steps backwards and furrows his brows at me. “Ouch!”

     “Are you taking my car?”

    He nods. “Where –”

     “In the magnetic key holder on the fridge.”

     “Okay, sis.” He smiles at me, leaning forward to ruffle my hair – which makes it even messier than it already was. “Go away!” I grumble, trying to pat his hand away. “Never!” He calls out, turning toward the kitchen to grab the keys.

    I shake my head and laugh. “Love you!”

    He shouts back, without looking behind at me. “Love you most!”

****

    The delicious smell of pancakes reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten since last night. I drag my feet to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for the person I’m about to encounter in there.

     “Uh, hi…” I hesitantly call out, entering the kitchen – and notice a very shirtless Owen, with his very shirtless back turned towards me. He turns around at the sound of my voice, and a few strands of golden blonde hair fall across his eyes. I long to reach my hand across and push those away.

    Instead, he himself does that as his eyes flit over me, and a look of pain flashes through his eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that.

     “I was wondering how you would ignore me when we’re living in the same apartment.”

     “I deserve that.” I walk over to the stove to stand beside him.

    He ignores me and goes back to flipping golden brown pancakes which smell amazing, but all I can focus on is the curve of his back, the hollow space between his collarbones, and the way his hands grip on the pan a little too hard. I feel a warmth course through my body and find myself missing the way he used to wrap his arms around me from behind in the mornings when Charlie was still asleep.

     “Owen,” I whisper, and he inhales sharply at that. “Please. I don’t want things to be like this – I don’t want us to be like this.”

    He uses his spatula to lift the pancake and puts it atop other pancakes on a plate beside the stove and turns it off. He turns around to face me, biting his lip and I think I just had an aneurysm because of the intensity of his gaze.

    He sighs, leaning against the counter. “Y/N. You made it pretty clear that there would never be an ‘us.’”

     “I know. But we can still be friends, right? Like we were before… everything.”

     “See, that’s the thing. I can’t. Y/N, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through for the past two weeks?” He snaps.

     “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I reply, hotly. “Owen, it broke me inside to ask you to stay away. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”

     “No! I don’t, because you don’t talk to me, Y/N.”

     “I told you, there is no point in doing long distance –”

     “That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it, too. I think you’re just too scared to be with me because you think that I’d break your heart, leave you alone or hurt you. But that’s the thing, Y/N – I won’t do any of that to you, because that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.” He crosses his arms across his chest.

    I breathe out shakily, running a hand through my curls. “That’s not true –”

    Owen scoffs. “Please, Y/N. I know you.”

    I lower my eyes from his because I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me.

     “Y/N, do you know how fucking hard the past week’s been for me? I can’t even talk to anyone about it, because the only person I wanna talk to is your brother and we all know what will happen if I do that. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been lying to him for weeks, pretending that I like this hairdresser, when in reality, I’m head over heels for his sister. I can’t tell him that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that she’s the only person that can calm me down when I get anxious on set. I can’t tell him that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s killing me inside to not talk to her!”

    He finishes, breathing out heavily. I look at his eyes and notice that they’re gleaming.

     “Wait, what hairdresser?”

    He scoffs, annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N?”

    I shrug and breathe deeply, trying to stop myself from taking his hands in my own. “You know, there are so many guys at school that ask me out, but I can’t go out with any of them, because guess what, they’re not you. I like you so much, Owen, so, so much, but I can’t do anything about it – because you’re right. I’m scared. I’m terrified that you’ll leave me, because I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not who you want anymore. I’m scared that maybe you’ll hurt me or meet someone else in Vancouver. I’m scared about so many things because that’s exactly how much I care about you, Owen!”

    I take a step further and we are standing mere inches apart. I can feel him breathe out raggedly and see the curve of his nose and his darkened eyes flickering to my lips.

     “I would never, ever do that to you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. Please, please believe me.” He whispers out, and I tell myself to stop, to turn back, to go into my room but instead I just stand there and watch him exhale out, and I know he’s feeling anxious. I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek in the palm of my hand and he leans his face onto my hand, resting his right hand over mine. The gesture calms the both of us down, and I know, in that moment, that I believe him. That he, us – is a risk worth taking.

     “Your hands are so cold.” He whispers. I nod. “Yours are warm.”

    Both of us stand there, in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what just happened – trying to hold on to this moment. A silence engulfs the both of us, as I sort through my thoughts.

     “Owen,” I whisper. He flicks his eyes to mine. “Promise me you won’t do any of that.”

    He raises his left hand, jutting out his little finger. I raise my other hand too, and he wraps his little finger around mine and whispers back, “Pinkie promise.”

     “Okay.” I whisper, neither of us daring to uncurl our fingers or look anywhere else.

     “Promise me that you wouldn’t leave me for some future tech billionaire.”

    I scrunch my face up at that. “What? No!”

     “Promise me you’d call –”

     “Every single day, Owen. You too.”

    Both of us nod together, and he lifts his other hand to tuck a curl that had previously escaped from my actually-messy-and-not-cute bun. “You’re so beautiful.”

    I smile, and a tear escapes my eyes – Owen rubbing it away with his thumb. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes and rest my hands against his bare chest for support as I press my lips to his. He smiles against the kiss, and I feel as if a zoo has gone wild in my stomach. I feel warmth and happiness course through my veins as Owen deepens the kiss, the intense longing in the both of us for each other clawing its way out to the surface. It’s almost as if I’m drinking water for the first time in a week. He tastes like banana pancakes, chocolate syrup and everything good in the world. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around neck while he does the same around my torso. It frightens me a little how well our bodies fit against each other – but it makes me feel strong knowing that I have an amazing person who genuinely cares about me.

****

CHARLIE’S POV

    Charlie unlocked the door to his sister’s apartment, mentally noting to remind her of the fact that her car desperately needs a wash. He enters the foyer, and drops the keys in a bowl, kicking off his shoes.

    Suddenly, he pauses, noticing how incredibly quiet the apartment is – which is unlike Y/N. She always has music blasting or the TV running – she hates the quiet. He quickly walks into the living room and almost screams in surprise.

    His little sister and his best friend are curled up on the sofa, their backs towards him. Y/N is lying on Owen’s chest and she has an arm wrapped around his torso while Owen’s arms are interlocked at the front, holding her against his body. Their tangled legs peek from underneath the quilt that Charlie and Y/N’s mother knit for her youngest daughter last Christmas. She laughs at something that Owen whispers into her ear, and he presses a kiss to her forehead, and they look at each other with so much adoration that Charlie has to look away.

    He sighs, mentally cursing himself for being so, so stupid. How could he have ignored the signs? Charlie remembers Y/N and Owen meeting, both in a daze, both smiling a little too much and Y/N walking with a skip in her steps. He remembers them talking for hours on end, binging Brooklyn 99 on weekends, and always hanging out with each other whenever they went to the same parties. He remembers that morning three weeks ago when he’d woken up late, and gone to the kitchen only to find the duo springing apart from each other, both erupting in a flurry of coughs and laughs, as if he’d just walked on them robbing a bank – Owen had explained that he had apparently broken a glass. He remembers the way Owen would look at her, as if she had just done something miraculous. He remembers the way Y/N would look at his best friend, as if he was made of everything good in the world.

    Most of all, he remembers how Owen sulked whenever he was alone back in Vancouver. He remembers how Owen constantly declined to go out with that cute hairdresser. He remembers how Owen sometimes seemed out of it. He remembers how Owen would sprint whenever Charlie called his sister. He remembers how Owen would keep checking his phone every few minutes in between takes.

    Charlie also remembers his sister asking about how Owen is when they talked on the phone, and how her voice seemed like she was asking something that was forbidden, something that was evil. He remembers how she would always hang up the phone whenever she heard Owen’s voice. He remembers her always declining his invites to go to Vancouver.

    How could he have been so dumb? The signs were right there. He lived with Owen, for god’s sake! Charlie feels an array of emotions. He’s always hated Y/N’s choice in men, despised anyone putting their hands on his baby sister’s body.

    But, to see them like this – to see Y/N look so safe, so comfortable in Owen’s arms, he can’t help but feel relief flood into his system. Because he knows his best friend, and he knows what kind of person he is. And now, he thinks just how much sense they make together. Sure, Owen is kind of stupid, reckless, impulsive, and clumsy – but so is Y/N – well, she’s not stupid, he thinks. She’s the smartest person in their family. But she has a fire within her – and his best friend matches that fire. Charlie thinks of the fact that they complement each other so nicely, both are caring, passionate, and kind-hearted. Of course, they would fall for each other. It just makes so much sense – they make so much sense.

    Still, Charlie feels hurt that neither of them bothered to tell him about it. (even though he won’t admit it, it’s understandable, really – considering the way he’s bugged his sister about her previous relationships.)

    He clears his throat and the duo on the couch jump apart, both flushed and with their eyes widened. Owen stands up, moving away from couch, while Y/N looks at her brother as if he’s a ghost.

    A silence falls over the apartment. Y/N finally says, “How’d you – how’d you get in?”

    He shrugs. “I had a spare key.”

    Owen looks between his girlfriend and his best friend, with widened eyes. “Charlie, I’m so sorry –”

    Suddenly, Charlie laughs, swatting at the air. “Pfft. You think I’m gonna be the weird brother who kills his best friend for dating his sister? Come on, this isn’t a TV show. I’m actually really happy for you guys – I ignored all the signs these past weeks, but I see them now. Of course, it’s really weird for me, but I love the both of you so much. Owen, relax, I’m not gonna kill you. Dude. Just don’t kiss or anything in front of me, cause that’s gross. Ew. You know what, don’t do that at all. And I’ll kill you, Owen, if you ever hurt her, I swear. I’ll put poison in your waffles. I just don’t understand why –”

    Charlie is cut off by his sister tackling him in a hug. He wraps his arms around her body, as she whispers, “I love you, big brother.”

    He murmurs, “Love you most, little one.” He catches Owen’s eye who looks at him with gratefulness and a little smile.

 **** 

READ ON AO3 WITH OC!

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[junko-and-riri-domain]

❦ 11 pm 2/14/2X | l.hs

❦ genre: lee heeseung x reader, valentine’s day fic, fluff

❦ warnings: none

❦  note:

semi-established relationship in that heeseung & reader have met/known each other before iland & enhypen’s debut which is why the storyline starts in the year 201X

this is one of 7 vday fics

the other members vday fics will be linked at the bottom 

[12.24.201X]

As you let out a sigh while staring at the screen of your laptop, you checked the time on the upper right corner to see that it was nearing the closing time of BH Cafe, the cafe you frequented practically daily. Just a few hours earlier you were surrounded by people who were on dates or spending time with their family. Now, you were left sitting alone and the only other person was Heeseung. Heeseung was a barista who worked at BH Cafe, the reason you liked being here on the days that he worked was because he never told you to leave when closing time was nearing. Instead, he’d start cleaning while singing a song or while dancing. You usually needed a comfortable place to study for exams or just do your homework which was what BH Cafe became for you ever since you found out of its existence. Heeseung let you stay past closing time and since you weren’t with anyone during the Christmas season, you were glad to have a place of comfort. You shut your laptop and packed up everything getting ready to leave when,

“Y/n,” you heard from a slight distance behind you. You were met with Heeseung who had a to-go cup in one hand and a bag in the other.

“Hey,” you answered. He handed you the cup and the bag,

“Take it,” he said.

“What’s it for?” you asked, unsure as to why he was giving you whatever it was that was in the bag and the cup.

“For you.” Well obviously if you’re handing it to me, you wanted to say with a roll of your eyes but instead,

“Thanks?” It was more of a question than a statement if anything but you weren’t exactly going to refuse a gift from someone. With a smile,

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you replied as you made your way outside. On your way home, you took a sip of the drink Heeseung gave you and realized that it was your favorite drink. When you got home, the bag had a box full of BH Cafe desserts which you knew wasn’t exactly cheap. Smiling to yourself without realizing it, you took a bite of one of the cupcakes which surprisingly stayed undamaged. Now you had to get Heeseung a gift in return as a thank you.

[1.03.201X]

Since Christmas Eve, you hadn’t returned to BH Cafe because you visited your family for the New Year. While at your family’s place, you and a few of your cousins went to the mall to hangout. There, you bought a tie-dye shirt you thought would look good on Heeseung. Once you got to the cafe, Heeseung was at the register and greeted you with a smile.

“Your usual, y/n?” he asked.

“Mhm, also this is for you,” you said as you set the bag on the register.

“What’s it for?”

“For you,” you replied earning a light chuckle from him.

Throughout the rest of the year, you and Heeseung’s relationship of only knowing each other’s names turned into a friendship where the two of you would sometimes pull all-nighter’s at BH Cafe. Some days, he’d help you study for an upcoming test while other days you watched him perform for you. You could tell that Heeseung’s dream of becoming an idol was one he was completely serious about and you gladly voiced your support for him. When March came along, you noticed a slight shift in Heeseung.

[3.05.1X]

“You ok?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink as you glanced over to Heeseung who was sitting across from you. It was currently 1 am but you probably weren’t leaving anytime soon.

“I should be happy for my friends but if I’m being honest, I’m jealous,” he said.

“About what?”

“I’ve been training with a group that debuted today, well, yesterday technically,” he answered. You had heard of a group debuting, tomorrow x together, and their new songs were playing just earlier.

“You’ll get there, Heeseung. I know you will because you have the talent and drive.” To yourself, you made a note that you’d support him for however long the two of you would know each other.

[5.21.2X]

Since tomorrow x together’s debut, Heeseung only pushed himself harder when training and started performing in front of you more often. The late am air while Heeseung sang and you listened while studying with your favorite drink became moments that the two of you shared with feelings that couldn’t be replicated with anyone else. You and Heeseung weren’t exactly a thing but one thing started becoming clear.

You were starting to catch feelings, or maybe you already caught feelings but it was now that you realized it. You were at the cafe one day during lunch and Heeseung was on his lunch break so he sat with you.

“Y/n,” he said with a smile, unable to contain his excitement.

“What’s up?” you asked.  

“I think I’ll debut soon, I’m gonna be part of a show called i-land.”

“I-land?” you question. He explained everything about it, how it was a survival group where 7 guys would debut after global votes. You were excited for him, of course you were, but at the same time, you knew that this was probably one of the last few times that you’d see Heeseung before his entire life changed.

And you were right.

Before Heeseung embarked on his journey to i-land, the two of you continued your late nights up together but you were mentally preparing yourself for his absence in your life. When you watched Heeseung’s appearance on i-land, his outfit was one you didn’t expect. He was wearing the tie-dye shirt you gifted him on 1/03/1X. You supported him throughout the course of i-land and voted at him innumerable times when global voting came around. Surprisingly, he didn’t forget you and texted you while he could and wearing the shirt that had gotten a label as his “one outfit.” 

[2.14.2X]

It was the first Valentine’s Day after enhypen’s debut and you were at BH Cafe, going over notes for an upcoming test. You were surrounded by couples who were out on a date and found yourself missing Heeseung despite how the two of you weren’t a thing, it wasn’t wrong to miss someone’s presence was it? It was getting late, and was around 11 pm when people started clearing out of the cafe, and you were left to yourself. “Let Me In” started playing through the speakers and you were humming along when suddenly,

“Neeemo,” you heard someone sing. Looking up wide-eyed, you were met with Heeseung standing there with a smile. 

“Heeseung?” you asked despite his obvious presence. 

“I was hoping you’d be here.”

“You were, why?” 

“I know it’s kind of late, but it’s still technically Valentine’s Day so will you be my Valentine?” You sat there, blinking trying to process Heeseung’s words. At 11 pm on 2/14/2X, Lee Heeseung was asking you out?

“How would that even work, how would we even go on a date? Are you crazy?”“This, right here, is our date,” he said as he sat across from you. 

“You’re seriously saying that right now I’m on a Valentine’s date with Lee Heeseung?”

“Only if you want to be.” The two of you spent the rest of the night at BH Cafe, catching up with each other while settling back into the comfortable space that only Heeseung could give you and comfort you with.  

|❦ end of story, written by riri��❦|

other vday fics:

|jay| |jake| |sunghoon| |sunoo| |jungwon| |ni-ki|

other links:

|blog m.list| |just another fan (heeseung angst)| |im just a fan (heeseung angst)|

[hsmtmts-justsomewriting]

Not to be your stereotypical second semester senior but EJ Caswell is a bit too busy to be thinking about sports metaphors...

(Alternative title- overcommitted..sounds like a Caswell)

Senior year was insanely busy. Being so overwhelmed EJ had been slowing down over the last couple weeks, but he was brushing it off just fine.

EJ has arrived late that day, which was unusual in itself, as he prides himself on being on time. Holding a half eaten packet of Oreos he shuffled into the rehearsal room slumping on the bleachers away from his chattering cast mates.

“EJ honey great you could join us, you’d think a senior couldn’t get lost in the halls!” Miss Jenn giggled at her own joke as the cast were suddenly alerted to the older boys presence. EJ absentmindedly nodded and grabbed out his script.

“Yeah...sorry..um...where are we at?”

“Page 63” “Cool... thanks”

Flipping to that part in the script, he looks up to take in the scene. Kourtney, Gina, Seb and Carlos are clearly half way through blocking a castle scene- Carlos complaining his arms are tired from ‘staying in character’, Kourtney and Seb working out where they are going to come in from and how to negotiate Sebs big box costume (although it’s proving very difficult considering the rehearsal room is about a quarter of the size of the stage) and Gina is animatedly discussing the scene choices with Miss Jenn.

Within an instant, EJ is startled from the scene as Natalie is beside him rambling something about ‘needing a fill in for cogworth’ ‘went home sick’. Sauntering up with his script, EJ’s vision goes spotted as he gets up from the bleachers. But as soon as it comes it’s gone.

He just needs to get through this rehearsal, then he can; go home, finish his debate speech, go over the plays for Friday’s waterpolo match, study for tomorrow’s maths assessment, start his exam notes, memorise his lines, work on his college applications, and maybe even get some sleep.

Joining the cast he tries to hide in the back corner. Following the basic blocking directions seemed harder than usual, his head had began to pound and fatigue hit him like a wave.

However he continued on, sluggish but present helping them to finish blocking the scene.

Walking back to his place on the bleachers EJ trips over his own feet. Catching himself before a big splat on the floor he is able to avoid the attention of his cast mates. Well mostly.

“EJ are you ok?”

EJ didn’t need to look up to know that his cousin had definitely seen his little trip.

“Yep fine”

“Ok try again but this time make it the truth”

Ashlyn was caring but firm, she definitely wasn’t going to brush it off. EJ could feel his facade fading under her concerned gaze. His voice drops low.

“I-i just don’t know... Ash, I’m trying-“

“ON TO THE NEXT SCENE Gaston and Le Fou, I need you boys to start down stage right”

EJ got up slowly, subtly steadying himself against a chair not to lose balance.

“Nevermind it’ll be fine”

EJ walks off, with that any vulnerablity on face vanishing, leaving Ashlyn’s stomach to churn in a pool of worry.

Being an after school rehearsal, most of the cast heads off after they start rehearsing the next scene as it only has Gaston and Le Fou. Leaving the rehearsal room with just Miss Jenn, Big Red, EJ, Ashlyn and Gina (the latter two who were waiting on the senior for a ride home).

EJ and Big Red slowly work through the dialogue, the scene is about as smooth as a clunky old railway track. After running it twice EJ feels like his words are melding into one. But pushing through, based off his poor entrenched habits, EJ made it through another run through of the scene.

“Um can we take a five?”

Miss Jenn looks at the senior perplexed, he’s never asked for a five. Ever.

“EJ honey is everything ok?”

“Hm, yeah just need a sec”

EJ’s exhausation catches up with him, the light seems to highlight the bags under his eyes. He drops onto the bleachers, resting his head in his hands he closes his eyes for a second.

“Miss Jenn, EJ doesn’t look so good maybe you guys should wrap this up for today-”

“Ash I’m-“

“No. You look exhausted! You barely have the energy to stand up for 10 minutes”

Ashlyn moves to grab him his drink bottle but runs into his iced coffee and Oreo packet first. She flinches. Her cousin never drinks coffee unless he purely needs the caffeine.

EJ freezes she moment he realises she’s seen it.

“When was the last time you slept?!”

All eyes are on him.

“James” His head snapped up. But he couldn’t look his cousin in the eye. Because then she’d see his eyes are glassy with unshed tears. His overwhelmed thoughts race through his mind.

“Ok I think we’ll pick this up next rehearsal, please be safe getting home and get some rest”

The four students start to pack up their bags, Ashlyn asking her boyfriend to give them all a lift. Turning to her cousin, helps him finish packing his stuff.

“You can stay in the guest room, we’re having lasagna tonight”

EJ too tired to protest, walks past his Jeep in the parking lot to get in a smaller orange bug car. He’ll have to come back for it tomorrow because there’s no way he could drive safely in his tired state.

The car ride home was eerily quiet, Ashlyn day in the passenger seat next to Big Red. He drove to Ashlyn’s house like a routine he knew by heart. Gina keep flicking worried glances at EJ but the senior didn’t even notice, having closed his eyes and resting against the window the moment he entered the car.

“Thanks for the ride Biggie”

Gina gentley nudged EJ and his eyes were open in an instant.

“Thanks Red” He mumbled as he got out of the car.

“No worries, take care guys”

As the orange car was disappearing into the distance, Ashlyn unlocked the front door. Gina and EJ follow her into the house.

“James lets go the living room”

EJ follows Ashlyn to the couch, and Gina continues past to grab a drink of water from the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

Ashlyn puts a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes it, grounding him and reminding him that she’s here to listen. He looks at the faded colourful rug and his words begin to vomit out softly.

“I’m just trying to get it all done ...and um.. for weeks I just never seem to have enough time, and I still have to do my study notes and finish my assessment and college apps tonight... but I’m just so tired...”

His voice cracks and the wall behind his eyes begin to break.

“I have to stay up so late, to get everything I have to all done...and then polo practice at the crack of dawn... i don’t know.. I just can’t... let anyone down..”

Ashlyn pulls EJ in tightly. His body wracked with sobs, her heart breaks as she hasn’t seen him like this in a long time. Gina initially freezes entering the room just as the senior had begun to cry but soon shifts over beside them engulfing them both in a hug.

Grabbing some tissues and a sip of water he’s able to stop his crying but his tense shoulders give away his overwhelmed mind.

“it will be ok, we’ll work this out. Everyone else will understand if everything is not done right now. You’ve got to take better care of yourself, what matters is if you are ok”

Gina nods in agreeance with Ashlyn as she comforts EJ.

“But for now you need to take a break, just have a quick nap before dinner in the guest room-“

“But I have to-“

“No James you need a rest, all this stuff can come later”

He sluggishly gets up heading for the guest room mumbling a “thanks Ash” as he retreats to his long awaited rest.

After he closes the door, Ashlyn lets out the breath she had been holding. She was convinced they would have to put up more of a fight to get him to go to sleep, but the fact that they didn’t was almost more concerning.

“He did seem a little bit off earlier in the week but yeah I had no idea that this was under the surface”

Gina says to break the silence created by her and Ashlyn’s shocked worry.

“Yeah he’s always been pretty good at bottling this stuff up, definitely a Caswell skill”

Ashlyn starts to pick up the tissues heading to the bin in the kitchen. Both the girls enter the kitchen to finish heating up the leftover lasagna they made yesterday.

While cooking the veggies the girls trade stories of earlier in the day and discuss the spotting of Miss Jenn and Mr Mazzarra at Sliced on Valentine’s. Just as they’re plating up, EJ reappears. He looks somewhat disheveled, wearing sweats and his usually spiked hair is messy like a 2012 Bieber hairstyle. His contacts are long gone being traded for his wide framed glasses.

“Feeling any better?”

Bringing the plates to the table they all sit in their usual seats.

“Yeah a little...thanks guys this looks amazing”

As if on cue his stomach grumbles with excitement and they dig into the food. The three teens continue to tell stories of their day. Although exhausted, a goofy smile makes its way onto EJ’s face while telling the girls about his classmate in English that tried justify his argument quoting spark notes, instead of the actual book.

Once they’re finished, EJ stacks and clears away the plates. Grabbing her laptop, Ashlyn creates a new copy of one of her old timetables modified with all EJ’s stuff. After cleaning the dishes, EJ plops down beside her and together they start to work out.

Half an hour and a warm hot chocolate later, they manage to finish a schedule that looks like it fit a bit of time for everything while keeping a heathy amount of rest time.

“Thank you so much Ash... I really appreciate it”

Ashlyn smiles back at her cousin.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, or at least you’ll let me know if you need help”

EJ engulfs her in a hug.

“Yeah I will, thanks”

As they both move to join Gina in the lounge room, EJ grabs his laptop to start completing his speech. Flopping down onto the couch, the tv is turned onto a Brooklyn Nine Nine halloween heist episode.

Taking EJs laptop at 9:30, the older boy fell asleep within an instant. Keeping to his promise, he followed the schedule he made with Ashlyn (most of the time at least) and finally learnt how to ask for help when he realised he couldn’t do it alone. And when he asked for help, Ashlyn and Gina were always there with an extra mug of hot chocolate.

Thanks for reading! I’m open to write prompts or suggestions

(...Also if anyone can think of any better names for this please comment because all my thoughts were low key trash😂)

[honey-dewey]

When I’m Older and I’m Wiser

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Dentist Reader

Word Count: 4,262

Warnings: General medical fic involving dentistry and recovering from wisdom tooth surgery. Mentions of pills, blood, needles, and Marcus being very high. Some use of (F/N) (L/N), but not much.

How the hell Marcus Moreno has gotten this far in his life without getting his wisdom teeth removed is beyond you. But that fateful day comes, and honestly you really should just quit being the Heroic’s dentist because it’s probably taking years off your life. Mostly because your current patient is very cute, very high, and in your care for the next 24 hours, which is a dangerous combination.

“Ow.” 

Missy looked over from where she’d been getting a second glass of milk, turning her attention to her dad. Marcus was staring at the eggs on his plate, seemingly frozen. The look on his face could only be described as offended, as if the eggs had just bit him back. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sitting back down and nudging Marcus with her foot. 

“Hurts,” Marcus mumbled, putting a hand to his cheek. The last thing he had expected was pain upon eating scrambled eggs, but it was there. 

Missy shrugged, digging into her own eggs. “Could it be a cavity?” 

Marcus shook his head, moving his hand to his other cheek. “Both sides.” 

“Two cavities?” 

Giving Missy a playful dirty look, Marcus took another bite of eggs, face scrunching when the pain persisted. 

Missy raised an eyebrow, and Marcus suddenly regretted having a tiny powerhouse of a daughter. “When was the last time you saw Dr. (L/N)?”

“Uh,” Marcus squirmed a bit under her judgmental gaze, thinking back. “I made an appointment right before your mother passed, but then she died and we were in mourning, and then I quit actively hero-ing full time, and then I took a while off to raise you, and then I started my new job, and then I was kidnapped by aliens, so I dunno. A few years?” 

“A few years?” Missy said, cocking her head slightly. “You make me go every six months!” 

“You’re still growing!” Marcus defended. “I’d be an awful parent if I didn’t keep up with your health.” 

Missy sighed. “Please tell me you’ve seen an actual doctor recently.” 

Marcus nodded. “Saw my GP last month.” 

“Good,” Missy said. “Can you see Dr. (L/N) today please?” 

Again, Marcus nodded. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder just who’s running this household.” 

“It’s me.” 

“I know kiddo. I know.”

Their drive to Heroic headquarters was silent, but comfortable, as it usually was. Marcus parked, the throbbing in his jaw just getting worse as he and Missy got on the bus into headquarters. Missy broke off in the reception area, heading down the hall with a wave. Marcus waved back, smiling at her as she disappeared. 

Wiping his hands on his shirt, Marcus walked up to the receptionist, who gave him a friendly smile. “Hello Marcus, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey Rhea,” Marcus said, leaning slightly on the counter. “When’s my first meeting?” 

Rhea hummed, putting his name into the computer and clicking a few times. “Looks like your earliest meeting is at 2:30.” 

“Awesome,” Marcus groaned. “Does Dr. (L/N) have any available appointments in the morning?” 

“Has someone been skipping out on the dentist?” Rhea said jokingly, moving to a different computer screen. “Was it Missy who made you go?” 

“Yeah.” 

Rhea laughed. “That kid,” she said softly. “And you’re in luck. Dr. (L/N) has an available appointment in half an hour, at nine. I’ll get you set up with it, okay?” 

Marcus sighed. “Yeah, that works. Thank you Rhea. I’ll see you later.” 

He waited for his appointment in the hero lounge, reading a book and chewing absently on his thumb nail. When his watch read ten 'til nine, he put his book in his bag and began to make his way down to the medical wing of the building. 

The medical wing was not one Marcus was in frequently. He knew some of the staff, but not all of them. But he waved to them all the same, eventually reaching the dentist’s section with five minutes to spare. 

“Mr. Moreno!” The nurse behind the reception counter said cheerily. “I thought it had to be a mistake when I saw you had an appointment.” 

“Please,” Marcus said. “Just Marcus will do.” 

The nurse nodded. “Of course. The doctor will be right out. You’re her first of the day, and honestly, I think she thought your name was a typo too. It’s been too long.” 

Marcus sighed. “Yeah. Missy chewed me out about that earlier.” 

“I’ll bet.” The nurse gestured to a row of chairs. “Take a seat. I’ll go see if the doc is ready.” 

Marcus sat down, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs in an effort to calm his nerves. 

“Moreno?” 

He looked up, heart suddenly beating fast. Standing in the doorway that separated the waiting room from the actual office was Dr. (L/N), looking very expectant and a tiny bit disappointed. 

———

Marcus stood, following you back into the office. His steps behind you were nervous, a high contrast to the confident clicking of your shoes. 

“Long time no see,” you said, pushing open a door and gesturing Marcus into the exam room. “What finally brought you back?” 

“Aside from Missy?” Marcus asked, sitting in the chair and rocking his left foot back and forth on the ankle. “I woke up this morning and it hurt to eat breakfast.” 

You nodded, washing your hands and donning a pair of gloves. “And there wasn’t any pain last night?” 

“Maybe a tiny bit.” Marcus watched you sit on a rolling stool, moving so you were just at his side. “But nothing I was worried about.” 

You crossed your legs, thinking. “Did you do any intense training in the past 24 hours?”

“Nothing involving my head.” 

“Well then it’s probably just a cavity or two,” you decided, rolling closer to Marcus’s head and putting both feet on the floor. “Let’s take a look, get some x-rays, and see if we can’t have you feeling better soon.” 

You adjusted the chair so Marcus was staring up at the ceiling, and at a large space mobile you’d hung ages ago. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

You smiled, pulling a mask up over your nose. “Relax Marcus. I’m not gonna hurt you on purpose.” 

Marcus still squirmed a bit as you examined his mouth, your brows knitting tighter and tighter as you realized this wasn’t a simple case of a few cavities. 

“Marcus,” you said slowly, sitting him up and tugging your mask down under your chin. “You’re in your forties, right?”

“Yeah?” 

“Please tell me you don’t still have your wisdom teeth.” 

Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. Why? Is that a bad thing?” 

“Most people have theirs removed when they’re teenagers,” you explained, pulling down the x-ray machine. “That way, there’s less risk of nerve damage. It’s not a bad thing to have them removed later in life, but it does come with higher risks.” 

“Oh.” The reassurance didn’t comfort Marcus much as you softly directed him through the various x-rays. 

You pulled the piece of plastic out of his mouth as the final x-ray hit your computer. “Sorry about that,” you said, watching Marcus rub his face. “I know it sucks. But, good news, I have an answer for you.” 

You let Marcus turn so he was facing your computer. “It’s definitely your wisdom teeth,” you said, tugging your gloves off and pointing at the computer screen. “See? All four of them are coming in, which is impressive. I can probably take them out tomorrow, honestly. Those suckers can get really painful really fast, so we’re gonna want to take care of it as soon as possible.” 

Marcus paled. “Tomorrow?” 

“That would be best.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I do one of these surgeries like, once a month. I know what I’m doing, and you’re going to be just fine.” 

“Okay,” Marcus said, nodding and staring at you. “I believe you.” 

You smiled. “Perfect. So I can schedule your surgery for super early tomorrow, I’m thinking around seven, maybe seven thirty. We wanna get it out of the way early because you can’t eat anything for twelve hours beforehand.” As you explained, you gathered some papers from a desk drawer. “I assume you want general anesthesia.” 

“Is that the option where I sleep through it all?” 

“Yep,” you said, stapling the papers together and handing them to Marcus. “As per protocol, we’re going to need reassurance you’ll be with a responsible adult guardian for at least forty eight, if not seventy two hours post surgery. The first twelve to twenty hour can be brutal, so you definitely want someone there during that.”

Marcus shook his head. “I haven’t got anyone besides my mom, who I assumed would be taking Missy while I healed.” 

“That’s okay,” you promised. “We can get someone here to care for you for two days. You’d have to stay here at headquarters, but you’d be comfortable and cared for. Whatever you do, I’ll call in some pain prescriptions and the like for you to pick up after work today. Just see the pharmacy out front and they’ll give the pills to you.” 

You stood, gesturing Marcus up. “So, to recap. Get here early tomorrow, no food after seven tonight, and wear comfy clothes. Most patients go with sweatpants, but you go with whatever is most comfortable to you. Bring a change of pyjamas and your prescriptions if you’re staying with us, and I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Moreno,” you said as you led him back to the lobby. 

Tomorrow came faster than anticipated, and before you knew it, it was seven AM and you were waiting for Marcus with your nurse beside you. 

“Damn his mouth is messed up,” the nurse mumbled, looking over the x-rays. “All four?” 

“All four,” you agreed, smiling as the lobby door opened. “Mr. Moreno! Follow me. I assume you stuck with the rules I gave you yesterday?” 

“Yeah,” Marcus said, handing you the paper bag with his prescriptions and a small drawstring bag that presumably had clothes in it. “I’m gonna be staying here.” 

“Perfect,” you said, pushing open the operating room door. “I see we’re dressed for the occasion.” 

Marcus turned red, looking down at his soft black sleep pants and a worn out Fleetwood Mac shirt. “Yeah.” 

You put Marcus’s stuff down on the counter, handing him a small white cup. “That is a super powerful mouthwash,” you explained. “Take it, and do try and keep it in your mouth for a minute. I know it tastes horrible.” 

Marcus did try, but he only made it to thirty seconds before he had to spit out the disgustingly bitter mouthwash. 

You laughed at his face, pulling on your gloves. “Alright Marcus, that works.” 

He smiled softly, relaxing a tiny bit. “Thanks.” 

“I wouldn’t thank anyone who made me take that stuff,” you said, grabbing a thin tube and holding it out. “That goes under your nose and over your ears, just like that,” you praised as Marcus threaded the tube over his ears. “Now, can I see your hand?” 

Marcus let you clip a heart rate monitor to his right index finger, watching as you walked to his other side and held up the final thing. “And last, but not least.” 

Immediately, Marcus looked extremely nervous again. You put down the IV line and rubbed his shoulder, trying to work away some of the tension. “Hey. Look at me. Just a pinch, and then you can take a nice long nap, okay? Deep breaths Marcus, deep breaths.” 

Marcus took a breath, and you carefully took your hand off his shoulder. You slowly directed his head onto the chair’s headrest, still murmuring reassurances. “That’s it. Count the stars on my mobile out loud. I can’t remember how many there are.” 

“Okay.” Marcus looked up, slowly counting out loud as you found his vein and stuck him with the IV line as quickly as you could. You administered some of the anesthesia, smiling as Marcus’s numbers began to slip and slide, until he wasn’t even counting as much as he was just mumbling out random mushy words. 

“Goodnight Marcus.” 

You gestured the nurse in, and she smiled, taking Marcus’s glasses and setting them on top of his other things. You finished off the anesthesia, watching Marcus’s eyes close. 

When he woke again, it was to you pulling the IV line out and taping a cotton ball to his arm. “Wa’s happ’nin’?” He slurred around the cotton and the drugs. 

“The surgery was a success,” you explained softly, despite Marcus not really understanding you. “All four teeth came out with no issue, and we’re about to take you to recovery. Oh, Marcus, keep your head up.” 

Marcus struggled to keep his head upright, and you giggled, holding your hands out. “C’mon. Let’s get you into a real bed.” 

You’d been through this with many patients before Marcus, but he seemed to be a stand-out, as you had some trouble getting him in the wheelchair and down the hallways into the recovery wing. He definitely fell under the ever entertaining category of ‘toddler high’ patients. His slurred words and puppy dog eyes made you laugh more than once on your way to his room. You actually had to stop and pause to laugh when he slurred out that he thought you were an Angel. He simply watched you with an exaggerated worried expression, half his words getting lost as he tried to mumble something out. 

“What was that Marcus?” You asked, wiping your eyes and continuing down the hall with him. 

“You’re tho prethy.” He said, head tipping down. 

“Head up,” you coaxed softly, smiling despite yourself. “Look, there’s your room.” 

Getting him in the room, which was more of a small, one person condo space, was thankfully the hardest part. But once you were in, he was very sleepy putty in your hands. 

“Okay Marcus,” you said gently, helping him out of the wheelchair and onto the couch, piling a few pillows beneath his head “Do you want anything before you go to sleep?” 

Marcus looked up at you. Between his cotton stuffed cheeks and his wide doe eyes, he looked a tiny bit ridiculous. You smiled, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick picture while he was still drugged as hell. “Marcus?” 

“Mittenth.” 

“What?” 

Marcus pointed to his bag. “Mittenth.” 

You walked over to the bag, opening it up and finding a black and white stuffed cat right on top. “Oh. Mittens.” 

You handed the cat to Marcus, who immediately snuggled it to his chest and rolled over a bit, falling asleep instantly. 

Again, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked so innocent like this, all curled up and sleeping. You hesitated to call him adorable, but if the shoe fit.

You sighed, picking up your phone and trailing into the single bedroom. Changing quickly into your leisure clothes, you texted one of the people at the pharmacy and requested a few ice packs and a wisdom tooth slushee. Both things were delivered in a matter of minutes, and you placed them securely in the small freezer to wait for Marcus. 

When he woke up, he was significantly less high. Looking around, Marcus poked his cheeks and made a face. “I can’t feel my nose.” 

“The entire bottom half of your face is numb,” you pointed out from your position at the two person table in the kitchen. “And believe me, you’re gonna want it to stay that way.” 

Marcus sat up, looking over at you. “I’m hungry.” 

“No solids for a while,” you told him, standing and grabbing his slushee. “But you can have this. And before you ask, yes you have to use the spoon.” 

Marcus pouted, but took the slushee. “But the cotton.” 

You nodded, settling on the couch next to him. “Open wide.” 

Marcus did, allowing you to shove two fingers into his mouth and fish out the cotton. “Still bleeding,” you mumbled to yourself. “We’ll shove more in there when you’re done. For now,” You tipped the slushee at him. “Eat up.” 

You turned your attention to the TV while Marcus ate slowly, taking tiny bites and occasionally sticking his tongue out. “It’s really numb.” 

“That’ll fade by tomorrow morning,” you promised. “At noon I want you to take your first pills. Then you get more at one.” 

Again, Marcus pouted, but simply sank lower into the couch cushions and mindlessly watched whatever was on TV. “Is my face swelling?” 

You shrugged. “No more than other patients. But yeah, just a bit.” 

“Do I look stupid?” 

The question made you laugh. “Marcus, I’ve had so many ridiculous patients. You’re no worse than some of my other ones, I promise.” 

Marcus accepted this and continued to take small bites of his slushee. “Why’s it gotta be blue?” 

“Because blue isn’t even remotely close to red.” You didn’t even look up as you answered. “Same goes for when little kids get teeth pulled. You want something that’s soft, easy to swallow, and isn’t the color of blood.” 

“Oh.” 

You nodded. “Yeah. How’s your mouth feeling?” 

Marcus mulled it over, eventually deciding on saying “Kinda achy.” 

“I’ll give you those pills soon,” you said. “It’s gonna be tricky, considering any kind of anything touching those holes in your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch.” 

“Even water?” 

“Even water.” 

Marcus groaned, and you shrugged. “Sorry. But you’re the one who waited until now to do this.” 

When Marcus finished his slushee, you grabbed a pill bottle off the kitchen counter, quickly glancing at the label and nodding. “Two of these,” you said, opening a cabinet and taking out a glass. “Come here.” 

Marcus trudged over, leaning heavily against the counter’s edge. You put the two round pills on the counter, along with the glass of water. “Best to do it quickly. And one at a time.”  

Picking up one of the pills, Marcus carefully put it on his tongue, taking the glass with a hesitant hand. He took a sip, swallowing quickly and audibly. “Can’t I use a straw?” 

“Yeah,” you said sarcastically. “If you want dry socket, go ahead.” 

“Do I want to know what that is?” 

“Nope.” You pushed the second pill towards Marcus. “Take that, then you can lay back down.” 

Marcus sighed, mirroring his previous action. However, instead of simply swallowing with a tight face, Marcus started, eyes filling with tears as he spit the water into the sink, the pill clattering against the metal. 

You immediately began to worry as Marcus cried. It wasn’t a small tear or two either. He was full on sobbing, gripping the edges of the sink so tight his knuckles went white. 

“Marcus,” you murmured, putting a hand on his arm. He looked up at you, and you put on your most comforting smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” You picked up a towel and slowly wiped the residual water off his face. “C’mere.” 

He collapsed into your arms, going limp and continuing to cry. You rubbed his back, heart tightening whenever he let out a whimper of “hurts.” 

“I know,” you said softly. “I know it hurts. But you have to take the pills.” 

“Can’t,” Marcus hiccuped, burying himself deeper into your sweater. 

“Marcus,” you said firmly, slowly untangling him from you. “I know it hurts. But you’ll be in more pain from not taking the pills. Please, for me?” 

He took a breath. “Can we watch TV afterwards?” 

You smiled. “Of course. I can give you ice for the swelling too.” 

Marcus nodded, looking into the sink. “Do I take that one?” 

“No,” you said, fishing a new pill out of the container. “It’s in the sink, I’m not gonna take that risk. Here.” 

Marcus stared at the unassuming white pill in his hand. “Which one is this?” 

“The acetaminophen.” 

“The what?” 

“Tylenol.” 

Marcus nodded, popping the pill into his mouth and quickly gulping down the water. This time, he avoided hitting his stitches and simply handed you the glass. “I’m not doing that again.” 

You took the glass, putting it in the sink. “You have more pills to take in an hour.” 

Marcus groaned. “TV?” 

“Of course,” you said, walking to the couch and smiling as Marcus fell onto it. “What do you wanna watch?” 

Marcus turned his red rimmed puppy dog eyes on you. “Say Yes to the Dress?” 

You laughed. “Are you serious? We can, but that’s not what I expected at all.” 

“I like trash TV when I feel terrible.” Marcus grabbed Mittens and cuddled the stuffed cat to his chest. 

You found the show, setting it up and standing. “More cotton. You're probably still bleeding, and we definitely don’t want that. Open.” 

It took some finessing to get two more wads of cotton into Marcus’s mouth, but you succeeded, despite his complaints of feeling like a cartoon chipmunk. 

 “I’m gonna go start on dinner,” you said.  “Are you gonna be okay here?” 

Marcus pouted. “Do you have to start now?” 

“Yeah.” You gestured to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, I’ll only be gone for twenty minutes. Soup just needs to sit for a while.” 

Slightly consoled, Marcus zoned out at the TV while you got to work making a simple chicken noodle soup. 

“Done,” you said, wiping your hands and walking back to the couch twenty minutes later. “Marcus, are you still awake?” 

Marcus grumbled, holding his hands out. “C’mere.” 

You passed him an ice pack, and he made a face. “Not what I want.” 

“What do you want?” 

As if somehow knowing they were your kryptonite, Marcus gave you his puppy dog eyes. “Wanna hold you.” 

You sighed, but crawled into his arms anyway. When you finally settled, he was on his back, head and neck propped up on the arm of the couch, and you were on your side between the back of the couch and Marcus. He was warm, wrapping one arm loosely over your waist and using the other hand to press the ice into his cheek. 

You quickly slid into a nice comfortable headspace, occasionally smiling when Marcus commented on the wedding dresses on screen. 

“You dropped Mittens,” you realized after a while, shuffling to grab the discarded toy from the floor. 

Marcus took Mittens, gently placing the cat on his chest, so that it was secure on his sternum. 

“Does Mittens belong to Missy?” 

“Belonged to Clara.” 

“Oh.” You saw the change in demeanor, noticed how Marcus’s face steeled when he said her name. He rarely talked about Clara, especially at work. “I’m-“ 

“Nah,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “It’s the past. I’m happy now, and so is Mittens.” 

You nestled deeper into his chest. “Happy right now?” 

“Definitely happy right now,” Marcus said softly. “Very happy, even though I can’t feel my face.” 

“Even if you could,” you mumbled, knowing where this was headed. “You can’t kiss anyone for a while.” 

Marcus grinned. “I guess we’ll just have to wait then, won’t we?” 

You mirrored his mischievous smile. “You can’t kiss,” you said, scooting upwards, until you were laying on top of Marcus, your belly on his ribs. “But I can.” 

You lay gentle kisses across his cheeks, smiling when he laughed at your insistence upon kissing his nose. His cheeks were cold from the ice and tender from the swelling, but Marcus never tried to stop you, so you continued downwards, kissing the pulse points on his neck. 

“You’re a damn tease,”  Marcus huffed. 

You simply smiled into his skin and tugged the collar of his shirt down, pressing firm kisses into the points of his collarbones.

“Hey,” Marcus nudged your head. “Can we finish this when I don’t have a mouth of stitches? I still can’t feel my tongue.” 

“Of course,” you said, pushing his shirt collar back up and laying your head on his sternum. “How long?” 

“Hm?” 

You shrugged, watching a woman try on a stunning wedding dress on the TV. “How long have you wanted to kiss me?” 

Marcus thought it over. “Last year,” he finally decided. “When Missy had three teeth out. You were so kind, and I just melted.” 

“But you didn’t fall in love hard enough to ever pay me a visit,” you teased, tracing the faded symbol on his shirt. 

“Didn’t ever want to go under and realize I’d spilled everything,” Marcus confessed. 

You smiled. “Too late. You said I looked like an Angel in the hallway.” 

Marcus turned bright red, and you laughed at him. “It’s okay,” you promised, kissing his cheek that didn’t have the ice pack. “I think you’re pretty handsome yourself.” 

That night, after dinner and more pills and ice cream for dessert, you and Marcus settled down in the only bedroom, clinging to each other as if your lives depended on it. 

Waking up was hard. Marcus was well enough to go home, most of the swelling gone and the numbness completely faded. 

“So,” you clicked down the halls of the dentist’s office, Marcus behind you. “No really hot liquids for another few days, and try not to do solids until then either. That antibacterial mouthwash should be used twice a day, and you can start brushing your teeth again in two days. Remember, no straws, take your pills, keep icing your cheeks, and if I see you in this office before this time next week, I will be calling your mother.” 

Marcus nodded as you pulled open the lobby door, where Anita and Missy were waiting. “Anything else Doctor?” 

You shook your head. “You should be all clear Mr. Moreno. I’ll be seeing you for your check-up next week. Don’t you go skipping out on me now.” 

Marcus smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he promised, leaning a bit closer to you. “And I cannot wait to kiss you for real.” 

He pulled away, leaving you flushed and dizzy. “See you next week Doctor.” 

“See you next week Mr. Moreno.”

If you liked this, I do dialogue prompt requests as well! Go request something if you want!

[soranihimawari]

Bella Donnas & Love

This is the final installment of the Hanahaki Disease AU featuring the Seijoh Four. This is a Mattsukawa Issei x Yin (YN/Reader) story.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal attempts, mentions of burn out, and intrusive thoughts

Recommended Audience: 17+ (minors recommended to not read because of the warnings attached)

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x reader// MIA->MIF [Mattsukawa Issei angst to Mattsukawa Isei fluff]

Mattsukawa Issei is a simple man. He sees the world in copious amounts of black, white, and gray; it isn’t because he is colorblind either. It is because he knows his worth. Truthfully, his parental figures were always a bit worried about their son especially given the profession he has chosen to pursue. Being in the business of burning and or burying the dead, Mattsukawa Issei is a fan of the loneliest times in a lifetime: they say when we are brought into the world, we are alone, and when we pass on, we too exit the world alone. There is nothing wrong with finding a job in the business of death, but even angels have demons. And for Mattsukawa, you are an exquisite example of the dichotomy between his dark side and your eventual akin to the brighter side.

It is a known fact in Japan, the pressure to be perfect or to fit into the mold of society has been a fatal flaw throughout the years. This is the main reason why at exactly two fifty-five in the morning, Mattsukawa Issei notices a young person, hanging out on the edge of the skyscraper across his workplace. There was a late night arrival to the city morgue; he just needed to be there to sign the paperwork to turn over the embalming processes to his mentors. It was the deceased wishes to be buried in the mausoleum in the home town of their forefathers: the mountain side of Nagasaki.

You were having a rough day: you were told you by your employers that you’ve been slacking for too long getting numbers for the statistics presentation coming up with business partners across the South China Sea. Then your grandparent were strictly feeding toxic lies to your parent(s) about how you would never find a suitable partner to marry you. Quite frankly, because you put your career and studies first, you had no issues putting your family in their place. The intrusive thoughts, snide comments about your appearance, was enough for you to glance at the sleeping pills that were prescribed to you to assist in a normal pattern, to invade your subconscious. The events which led you to climb the fire escape up to the rooftop garden in your kitten heels made for a daring flirtation with death. There have been nights the last couple of months where your heart is heavy in your chest, your lungs are intoxicating you with the poisonous belladonna petals.

“What a time to find out I’m going to die a lot sooner than I thought,” you sighed into your palm. Your eyes scour the hazy city in the afterglow; after a tizzy of a day you had, you chose that perhaps this might be a sign of the universe you were better off dead. Either that or your soulmate would be in extreme pain and you didn’t want to disappoint their perception of your love. Then again, you wouldn’t know what love, honest, and kind would feel like even when you’re about to let it all go.

You are devoid of emotion as you bring yourself to your feet. A hand of yours drags across your face. The drop is high enough to entice little to severe damage like broken legs, or severe head trauma, but to be truly free, you wish to be put out of your misery as quickly as possible.

Mattsukawa sees the figure clad in a lighter powder blue and his eyes are wide with fear. The morgue worker and delivery driver had already gone off into the night to complete the rest of the deliveries of bodies to the funeral homes. As soon as he finished locking up and registering the corpses, Mattsukawa was determined to see your hair wind blowing on the rooftops. The blurred vision he sees makes the twenty-seven year old shiver. Even in his line of work, this was the second instance he wanted to save someone. He knew of you: the business woman who was suffering from a similar ailment to him. The belladonna hues from your rebellious highlights enticed him to notice how you seemed a bit off at the coffee house you frequent by the funeral parlour he had been working at.

“Excuse me,” you said, holding on to your mug. Your knuckles were white with tension, so Mattsukawa did something unexpected of himself: he gave you way, but instead of sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant cafe, he sat directly across from you. The crowd was getting to be a bit noisy, but you and him sat there staring off center, hyper fixating on the number of people sign in either direction.

“Why do you smell like belladonna?” You asked. You had a glance meet you with a harsh smile.

“It’s part of my line of work. I use it to bury the dead at the request for all nameless suiciders that wind up on my table,” Mattsukawa explains. The oils from his embalming course was enough to mimic actual belladonna, but has he noticed from her, it wasn’t coming from just his hands: it was coming from her hair. He asked a question about why you seemed so strung up lately and like a fool, you told him everything which was bothering you. If anything, this man was a silent confession box. He seemed like the genuine article, so when you check for the time, you realize it was time to leave and head back to the office to grab the final jump drive for the presentation. Things at work seemed to have gotten better since the next time you’d see your precious Mattsukawa would be in the next life. You never truly disclosed your name to him, so he made a note call you Bella or Donna (whichever you preferred really). His smile is flirtatiously coy and you felt your cheeks grow a bit warm from the moment he told you his name.

For whatever reason, perhaps Mattsukawa was feeling a bit lucky, he asked you to dinner the day before yesterday. He wanted to know you, truth and all, bruised and damaged as you were, the meds your doctor prescribed were starting to cushion the intrusive thoughts. However that changed the moment you give him a nod, he grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the cafe; gently he squeezes your fingers for reassurance.

“You’ll do great Miss. I believe in you,” Mattsukawa whispers in the last part. The cafe begins to echo again, so you couldn’t hear the last part, but you were sure it was an encouraging word. Mattsukawa was the first person in a long while to give you something so few in your battlefield mind would want (or need): hope.

“Goodbye Mattsukawa.”

With that said, you were gone from the cafe and headed back into the office where a different manager made your life hell because their normal assistant was very organized, but the constant comparison was enough to make your head explode.

Presently, you stand on the ledge, glancing down like a superhero vigilante, but just as you were about to take a dive, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The hands are interlocked under your empire waist line and if it wasn’t for the fact your hair was probably in a ponytail prior to this predicament, you’re sure your band was lost to gravity and the wind. You thrashed about in your captor’s arms, not realizing this person was about to save you from an awful mistake.

You see, Mattsukawa Issei is a funeral employee; he dresses sharply like an agent of the Grim Reaper. He is suave and debonair; he loves watching the life cycles of the various flower arrangements in his mentors stores go throughout the seasons. His heart and soul is full of vibrancy you have yet to comprehend; Mattsukawa was always a strong individual and you could ask anyone of his friends in school what kind of person he was. So, what made you so different? Sure you were stressed out, anybody could see that, but Mattsukawa picked up on the depressive aura you emanated. Did he really want to sit in front of you that afternoon? Sure; it was mainly because he couldn’t shake this feeling ever since you were ahead of him in line to order that he was supposed to meet you here (even if you were at your lowest post appointments at the business office downtown).

You struggle to let go, but the owner of these hands does not wish to loosen their grip on you; you ask twice kindly to be left alone and the soft ortund tone of the stranger’s voice from the cafe stops you from thrashing about further.

He tumbles back and lands on his arse with you sitting on his lap, pressed against his broad chest. His sleeves from the black oxford shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and his hands still are in an interlocked position. Mattsukawa has seen some pretty fucked up causes of death recently, yet this time, he wanted to save you, not bury you. He wants to see you tomorrow night at dinner in the diner close to his loft; he wants you to understand maybe death isn’t all that grand and if you struggle with your mind everyday, he wishes to someday be of importance to you. You’re in charge of your own autonomous decisions, yet Mattsukawa wants you to give him a chance to prove to you that love, hope, and for the very fortunate, miracles exist (even if you weren’t shown any).

“You’re sick,” he closes his eyes. Apparently, you pick up on the frown in his voice and somehow, you’re sixth sense of empathy decides not to fight his tonality, but rather when you subconsciously agree and call your mental state one of a landmine, he doesn’t make a fuss. It was a short exam and you realize may be life is worth living for a nano-second. You could have an entire relationship with this man from the cafe in a span of two hours, if that. The fates must have had a wicked sense of humor when pairing either of you to the other: one who works with and around death, the other has an affinity to try and cross into the next life every moment things in the sea turn too rough.

You slowly stop trying to fight him the moment you hear his voice toss in the wind. Instead, you move your hands to hover limply on his, leaning back and letting his breathing calm you. The smell of belladonna from your hair oil wafts through the air. “Suicide is not how I want your story to end.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about or-o-or,” you stammer on. “Perhaps I don’t want to be alive anymore because people keep interfering.”

This causes Mattsukawa’s heart to gain a solid crack. You toss your head back and land harshly against his sternum, causing him to grunt and inhale sharply.

It rips seamlessly to his soul. In the past six to eight years since he entered his chosen profession, he has seen corpses from all ages, the youngest being eight who suffered from a myriad of health issues including Hanahaki because the playground friend in their preschool years was going to be theirs when the time properly came. Mattsukawa, the night he was on duty for the wake, anonymously donated the flowers that would have made the child laugh on wishes. Sure, life does have it’s moments when it tests us, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the burn out business person from earlier this week, who was now in his arms, safe.

Unintentionally landing on his back with you on top of his chest was not how he had pictured becoming a hero. Just for one night, Mattsukawa Issei, the stern and most silent of the volleyball players in high school, was a hero worthy of saving a life.

“Argh,” he groans.

He coughs quietly away from your face when his hands loosen their hold. You chose to not chastise him about not wearing a sweater in the middle of autumn. After all, this man was the only one who would be daft enough to try and stop you. You curl into him, hiding your face in the satin finish of his dress shirt; you promise to buy him a new one as long as you let him hide your eyes and you break down. You’re crying over the smallest inconvenience and on top of feeling like a burden to the man, you consistently apologize by saying it’s no one’s fault especially his when you catch yourself in your darkest moment.

Mattsukawa listens to your request: with one hand, he covers your left side of your face, the right is patting your hair down, reassuring you that he will console you until the sobs stop and the sniffles remain.

“You’re lucky I live and work not too far from here doll,” he whispers into your hair. You’re calming down as you hiccup the last couple of bubbles of air. You nod in understanding the words he was saying, but you still have your eyes closed to shield himself (and keep your pride intact) when he would peer into your bloodshot ones.

“Don’t worry about me tryin’ anything either. You’ve been through enough tonight. Just let me take care of you for the rest, ok?”

“Mmhm,” you agree. He sits up half way and you rise with him, your eyes ever looking westward until you see one of his handkerchiefs from his back pants pocket dangle in your line of sight. You stifle a laugh, utter a thanks, and begin to dry your face. Mattsukawa, when you were done, doesn’t hold your face anymore, even if it pains him to do so. Your free hand decides for both of you: your left reaches for his and you bring the calloused hand, opened palm, to your cheek. Your skin is soft and sticky from the tears, but if anyone were to ask Mattsukawa what it felt like to save a life, he would humbly point you out in a crowd and say ‘Ask ‘em yourself.’

“I lost sight of the things that brought me joy,” you say quietly. You’re breathing in his cologne and it smells like whiskey sours. The scent grounds you, as you recall your therapist giving you stress-relieving tricks such as naming five to ten things your senses pick up on. Your cheeks feel soft like mochi ice against Mattsukawa’s open palm; you see the neon lights hazily glow in the city below you; and finally, you hear his shirt ruffle against the shell of your ear when you finally calm down.

“Everyone does,” Mattsukawa agrees. “Can you do something for me?”

“Mattsukawa-san,” you said his name and he chuckles in surprise. You remembered his name? This was even better than before. He finds himself falling gently in like with you. The love between long lost friends is what keeps him afloat. Unwillingly, you find yourself amusedly smiling at his tanned skin glowing with a soft hues under his eyes. Was this man blushing?

“Call me Issei or Mattsun,” his voice says when his other hand loops around your waist. He buried his head on your right shoulder.

Tonight you learn that even strong and by your standards of “fine men” do in fact cry. You blink a couple more times and he just cries a mixture of tears he has no control over.

“Mattsun,” you say, voice soft like the breeze sending a boat to sail. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You could have said you weren’t feeling well if you didn’t want to go out with me,” Mattsukawa jokes, turning his head to the side so you wouldn’t see his tear stricken face to the side. He asks you, if you felt comfortable enough, to just stay still for a moment.

The rooftop rendezvous was not what you had in mind when you came home from clocking out, but considering you were heavily contemplating ending your existence earlier, this one request was not too hard to fulfill. The belladonna in your bronchioles seemed to dislodge itself into your lungs. You stay as still as your companion had asked and you breathe in time together. His curls are soft to the touch and when he relaxes his shoulders when you run a hand through his hair, you feel him grin on the right of your shoulder blades.

Was this what it felt like to be you every hour before you both met at the cafe? This profound sadness doesn’t leave his heart nor does he quite shake the feeling of the leaves of the belladonna flowers taking root in his lungs. The flowers bloomed slowly since his twenty-third birthday were the same ones you dyed your hair for. You’ve been suffering with the hanahaki disease for quite some time, you confess back to him.

“Is that why you were here? Trying to jump?” Mattsukawa asks an innocent inquiry. He seemed like he was about to be scolded for the first time in seven years, yet you thought it was kind of adorable. And so you do something you haven’t done in a very long time: you scoff (although you were sure it was closer to a giggle.

“No,” you reply. “I was contemplating jumping because all my triggers hit at once, so I’ve been in a depressive episode for quite some time before we met.”

“Oh,” Mattsukawa acknowledges. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“…that’s awfully forward of you,” you say. Your pragmatic inner voice says to decline, but there is a mischievous side of his mannerisms, nonetheless you are curious. It is late into the evening already, so perhaps the offer is a better one. After all, you think the change of scenery would do you some good, so you humbly agree.

Roughly an hour later, you find yourself in Mattsukawa’s living room area. Offering his shower to you, you ask if there is something he can lend you. It is an old shirt with his high school cactus logo on it, but the shorts he tosses to you has a VBC and his old number stitched on the back pocket. Mattsukawa hands you a spare towel and tells you how to work the shower in his bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you sit close to the kotatsu even if it’s not too cold outside at the moment, you tend to sleep better underneath one.

Prior to your shower, Mattsukawa-san graciously gave you a small tour of his loft when you arrived. The walk wasn’t too far from the rooftop building and so you two walk side by side until the loft complex came into view. Mattsukawa says hi to the doorman who makes a joke or two about how he had almost pulled another overnight at the funeral home.

“Be careful with that one miss, he’d work himself to death! Ha! Work himself to death,” the doorman says, wiping a faux tear from his eye. You snickered covering your smile with the back of your hand. When you put it to the side of your body, Mattsukawa notices how dazzling your smile is. How would someone who smiles this much at a pun, hold so much carnage of self-doubt and depressive thoughts in their heart? Is that why your flowers and your scent are wrapped in poisonous belladonna? Mattsukawa shakes this thought to the furthest parts of his mind. You’re here now, in the next room, safe under the same roof.

The master bedroom door is opened just a crack once Mattsukawa is half-dressed in his pajama pants, parading around shirtless fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. You were already seated on the barstool peering out the sliding glass door of the patio outside. Jumping was not the way to die for you, you think. Perhaps if you died with love, perhaps you’d have a better chance of reincarnation than you thought. The ambient sounds of the refrigerator and the water spout being used brought you back to hold the gaze of your host for the evening. You made a conscientious decision to cash in on your PTO at your work location for the next two weeks via e-mail. You explain to the HR representative you were feeling burn out and your therapist was working with you to battle the depressive episodes you were going through. The automotive message came back saying someone from the office of internal affairs would look into the chain of command in your division. However, you could care less about work at the moment, since you were enjoying the company of the person who helped kept you tied to this world.

“You like what you see?” Mattsukawa says smoothly. The water glass is placed on the counter in front of you. After graduation from Aoba Josai, running and other kinesthetic stretches were included in his workout regiment. You froze, placing your phone face down to the extreme left of the counter space. The granite glowed in the soft lamp from behind you, casting shadows in the grooves of his muscular features.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you tease. “But I do like the person who saved me from making a huge mistake.”

Mattsukawa nods as he leans forward to rest his chin in his hand.

“I’ll always come running to you Yin,” he gives you a nickname close to the currency your country uses. This causes you to roll your eyes, yet you reassure him it was filled with endearment.

“You sound like you’re going to love me until the day I properly die Mattsun.”

He wasn’t expecting you to climb halfway across the granite counter, stretching your back further parallel to the floor (your feet are balancing your lower half on the chair).

His hand finds its way to the small of your back and he says a quick, “pardon me.” The onyx eyes he owns close and crinkle upward like small crescent moons before you feel his pursed lips press against your forehead.

“You’re safe here,” you hear him say. His warmth is a welcomed blanket of comfort for you; his words are kinder than your own thoughts.

“Will you kiss me properly?” You ask.

“In the morning, first thing,” he answers. “But first, sleep.”

Mattsukawa walks around his counter to keep you from hanging in the balance thus lowering the risk of you falling knees first on the floor.

“Remember how you fell on top of me?” Mattsukawa’s voice is low. You swallow nervously; you affirm that you do. “Good. Now hold on to me sweetheart.”

He leans back against your left side of your suspended body and he wraps an arm around your mid-section and you push off with your elbows. The next thing you are aware of, you are being carried like a drowsy child to the living room where you sit on Mattsukawa’s lap like before. You raise a hand to his smooth face, your fingers tracing the highest points of his features; his eyes flutter close to the sensational spell you are casting; he is about to fall in the in-between of sleep and lucidity when he feels your lips press firmly against his. When you back down, he stops you with one word: “More. One more time.”

You turn your head at an angle the moment you feel his hands turn you around to straddle him more comfortably.

“Better,” you confirm. Your nose teases his own and he languidly looks at you before he pushes your back playfully and your lips meet his again.

You sigh against his lips when your knees come into contact with his cushion; his arms move away from your hips to your ribs. The callouses he earned over the years of playing volleyball in high school memorizes the map of your skin. Together, the aroma of belladonna almost dissipates the pain in your lungs the longer you are breathing in everything the young man in front of you is giving.

This was as brave as you wanted to be right now. You’d be more adventurous months into your new found relationship with your restaurant-cafe rendezvous man. Your hands trace his collar bones before they found their purchase on the sides of his neck.

“I like that,” you say when you are given a chance to catch your breath. Mattsukawa’s hands rest on your love handles again and he pushes you into a loose embrace. Your hair tickles his shoulder when you rest your head against his pectoral.

“I like this too,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down your spine. “Close your eyes and rest for a while Yin. We can talk about this in the morning, ok?”

You stifle a yawn, agreeing.

A few minutes later, after you are truly asleep, Mattsukawa supports you in his arms and he carries you like a child, careful to support your neck as your legs rest limply above his hips, to his room. He lays you down first and then proceeds to tuck you in; staying above the duvet, he watches over you breathing in and out steadily, the last small petals escaping your lips when you cough softly in your sleep. Mattsukawa stares at the last shriveled one on the corner of your lips and swats it away.

“Pretty angel, don’t scare me like that. I don’t want to lose you,” Mattsukawa reaches over to hold your hand; fingers intertwining around your own and you squeeze his back. “You’ll be alright and I will help you keep nightmares away.”

“Why?” Your voice is laced with sleep. “Why do you want to love me?”

“Because our story is just beginning my love.”

Mattsukawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles and when he lies down further on his bed next to you, he rests a protective arm over your shoulders.