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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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Show Me*

Summary: The second part to Teach Me*

Class is in session, and this time, Harry needs a little help exploring his favorite kinks. Like...how to get somebody off underneath a table.

And you're more than happy to lend a helping...hand.

Word Count: 6k

“So…how did she like it?”

Harry laughs as he slips out of his car. “Wow, I think that’s a new record. Waited a whole thirty seconds to ask me.”

“Bite me,” you retort as he makes his way toward where you’re waiting on the sidewalk. “Well?”

He shrugs, hands shoving into his pockets. “Dunno. We never got to it.”

“So, just straight to the fucking, then, huh?” you question. “No foreplay at all? I mean, hey…if that’s what she’s into…great. But, personally, I think the foreplay is the best—”

“All right,” he interjects with a wicked yet amused grin. “That’s not what I meant. She got called into work before we could.”

“Oh.” You offer him a pitiful frown. “Sorry, bud.”

“Bite me,” he mimics as he brushes past you. “S’fine. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage as you fall in-line beside him. “Gives you more time to find your nerve.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, glancing down at the concrete. “Or more time to practice…other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he says again, one brow raising as he looks back over. “You know, like…how to eat ass.”

Finally catching onto his joke, you groan and reach out to shove him away from you, watching as he stumbles with a laugh. “Fucking hilarious.”

“Listen, I was actually looking forward to it,” he continues, hand over his heart as if disappointed. “I bet you really know how to eat some ass.”

“Ha…ha.”

“What? You do, don’t you? Cause of…Eric?”

The familiar but dreaded name sends a shiver down your spine as you recoil away and scrunch your nose in horror. “Ew.”

He looks proud. “Well? Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” you huff before sighing. “…no. But he wasn’t that great of a teacher, anyhow.”

“No fucking kidding,” Harry snorts with a smile. “You’re much better.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he beams, reaching out for the door of the restaurant to swing it open. “After you.”

“As it should be,” you tease, winking to hint at the double entendre, and his eyes roll.

You find your large group of friends already gathered around a table near the back of the room, and quickly make your way over.

For the next few minutes, you all exchange pleasantries, catch-up, and tease Harry about his failed attempt at mating.

He’s a good sport about it, flipping everyone off with a smile before changing the subject.

Because, despite the jokes, all of you know that Harry could have anybody he wanted. Maybe his experience in the bedroom is lacking but that’s only because it was a personal choice that he made. And everybody knows it. As far as charm and seduction go? Harry Styles is a king.

Perhaps even a God.

…no, that’s giving him too much credit.

You shake your head, clearing the thought away as you listen to your friends gossip about the newest celebrity drama and reality TV scandals.

And you try to care. Really, you do.

But your mind keeps…drifting.

To Eric.

God, you could just kill Harry for re-planting that seed in your subconscious and reminding you of the worst mistake you’ve ever made.

Because there was a time when Eric was everything to you. When you were closer to him than you were to Harry. When you trusted him—completely—with your mind, soul, and body.

And of course, he just had to shit all over the self-growth and progress you’d made.

You feel your phone vibrate from its place on your thigh, and you glance down to see Harry’s name flashing across the screen.

Sneaking a curious sideways peek his way, you swipe up to read his text.

So…Pete Davidson is Kim Kardashian’s stepfather now? Am I hearing that right?

Confused, your brows pull together as you look over at him.

His explanation is to nod at your friends across the table with a smirk, and you laugh.

I don’t know, you type. I wasn’t listening.

Oh? Why not? This is fascinating stuff.

Idk. Just wasn’t.

Harry’s expression seems to fall as he studies you before his fingers are flying across the screen. You were thinking about Eric, weren’t you?

…nooooooo.

His eyes narrow.

So what if I was?

Bee…you can do better than that. Even in your head.

See, you say that, and yet…here I am.

Because you’re not doing better. You can…you just aren’t.

Yeah? And how exactly would I do better?

You catch the way his lips pull back into a Cheshire-like grin as he begins to type.

Well, you kind of already did do better. With me. The other day.

Swallowing a scoff, you type, That was only because I felt bad for you.

Think you felt a lot of things that day, Bee. But bad wasn’t one of them.

You toss him a playful glare. Are you ever gonna let that go?

Not likely. After all, you did promise me another lesson.

You don’t need another lesson, you just need to stop being so goddamn annoying.

Come on, you can’t deprive me now. Not when I know I have so much to learn.

Google it.

Ouch.

You’ll live.

It’s not living if it’s not with you.

This time, you do groan, and reach over to swat his arm. “Stop,” you hiss. “You really are fucking annoying.”

“Learned from the best,” he retorts, leaning closer to you in an attempt to conceal the conversation. “Learned a lot of things from you, actually.”

“Harry,” you huff again, but you’re smirking. “My god, you don’t really wanna learn how to eat ass do you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what I wanna learn. That’s why I need a teacher. To teach me what I want.”

You know he’s fucking with you. You can see it all over his face and yet, for some reason…your interest is piqued. “Thought that was a one-time deal.”

“It was,” he agrees. “But…the door to knowledge is never closed.”

He follows this up with a devious chuckle to let you know he’s teasing, and you nudge him again. “See? Annoying.”

For a moment, you both put the topic to bed and return to the conversation happening across the table.

But again, your mind wanders.

Wanders all the way back to your bedroom and the image of Harry’s curls wound around your knuckles.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about that afternoon quite a few times since it happened. After all, you’re only human. And Harry had done a rather excellent job. Sure, you’ve had a tad better. But for his first time…it wasn’t half bad.

And you’d waited to feel weird about it after the fact…but you never did. Which was strange. The two of you returned to your normal routine as if it had never happened.

And you were certainly glad for that. So why is it that now, as the opportunity for a relapse is placed so obviously in your lap, are you not repulsed by it?

Why is it that you haven’t immediately shut the idea down? Laughed it off? Why is it that you’re…considering it?

Again?

You almost want to shudder at the very thought, but as you look over to the chair beside you and take in Harry’s relaxed smile as he listens to your friends talk…something seems to shift.

You will admit, since your little…experiment…you’ve begun to equate those kinds of memories and feelings with Harry instead of Eric.

And that’s another thing you wouldn’t dare complain about. You like the idea of being able to associate pleasure with someone that makes you feel safe. Secure instead of unhinged.

And perhaps this is a huge mistake…but suddenly, you can’t seem to see the harm?

He gets to learn how to make a woman feel good and you get to erase Eric from your past permanently.

What could possibly be so wrong with that?

Subtly, you clear your throat as you turn your head to him, calling his attention away as he raises a brow.

“Okay, so…if I were to agree to another lesson…” you begin hesitantly as his eyes grow wide. “I’d need a little…information.”

He angles his body toward you as well, murmuring, “Yeah? Like what?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t know…what kinds of kinks do you have?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats smugly, nodding his chin at you. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me find out?”

You quickly glance across the table to make sure nobody is listening as you lean in and whisper, “Well…I don’t even know where to start with you. You’re a virgin, it’s hard.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he corrects with a scoff. “I just…haven’t done it a lot since the first time.”

“Mhm,” you snort. “Doesn’t change the fact that if you don’t know what you like, there’s no way I’ll know.”

He studies you for a second, seeming to think. “Well…why don’t you tell me what you like? Maybe I’ll get some ideas.”

You hesitate. What do you like? “Uh…okay. I mean, I like pretty much everything, I guess.”

“Yeah? Like what? Name something.”

Well…shit. “Um…I don’t know. Have you ever heard of…exhibitionism?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought, brows lifting up with intrigue. “I’m 27, I’m not dead.”

“Hilarious.”

“Why? S’that something you’re into?”

You swallow but force a relaxed and nonchalant demeanor. “Kind of, yeah. Fun to play with what’s mine when anybody could see.”

He almost seems impressed, leaning back as he looks at you. Really looks at you. “You don’t fucking say.”

“Okay, don’t make it a whole thing,” you whisper urgently, already swatting at him in warning. “It was just an idea. We can always think of something—”

“Show me.”

You pause. “Show you…what?”

He nods his chin at you. “Show me how you’d play with what’s yours when anybody could see.”

Your expression falls. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nods. “I’m a vessel. Show me. Teach me.”

And maybe it’s the glass of wine offering you an extra ounce of courage, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already done this once before, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Harry…

But whatever it is, you reach out, and smooth your palm along his upper thigh, just to watch his breath catch. “Are you sure?” you ask softly, careful to keep beneath the suspicion of the group across the table. “Because I need to know if you can…handle it.”

You feel him tense, his fingers flexing across the tablecloth as he regards you. “I’ll handle anything you want me to.”

Your hand drifts a little higher. “And you’ll sit here? And be a good student?”

He shoots you a coy smile. “The best.”

A little higher. “And you know your safe word?”

“‘Stop,’” he answers, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “Don’t think I’ll need it, though.”

“You might.”

“Won’t.”

“Maybe.”

“No fucking way.”

You slow to a stop, centimeters away from the rather obvious dip in his pants. “Don’t say that. Just use it. If you need to.”

His expression softens. “I know, Bee. I will. Promise.”

“Good.” So, with that and a deep breath, you take the plunge, ghosting your touch over his covered cock.

And it’s different this time because it’s you touching him. It’s his body in your hands and this far exceeds your usual high-five.

You aren’t sure what you expected. You kind of already know he’s big from the few times you guys have gone swimming together. And he’s accidently brushed up against you before when scooting past you and worn sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to help him hide an erection (another reason why you’re never watching a Margot Robbie movie with him again).

But feeling it now…knowing exactly what this man is in possession of…feels forbidden.

You keep your expression stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your awe as you watch the way his lashes flutter.

“Easy,” you warn in a delicate whisper. “Rule number one…make a sound and I stop.”

His teeth grit as he leans back against his seat. “Fine.”

“Good.” You bring your fingers together until you can cup your palm around him, adding just the slightest amount of pressure before glancing back at your friends.

They’re laughing about something, you don’t really know what, but you smile and nod along as if absolutely enthralled.

And as the seconds pass, you feel Harry grow harder in your hand. Needier. He shifts at least three times a minute, clearly struggling to keep from bucking up into your touch.

You’re being as easy on him as you can. A few squeezes, a bit of palming, and some light brushing just to tease him.

He’s gripping onto the edge of the table so tight, you’re surprised it’s not shaking. But he’s restraining himself, as best he can, and you feel oddly…proud.

You maneuver a little closer, head dipping until your lips are close to his ear. To anyone else, it might look like you're merely trying to be heard over the loud music.

But Harry knows better.

"This...is where the fun is," you tell him. "Knowing it would be so easy to have you coming in your pants. Right here, right now. In front of everybody."

You add a bit more pressure and watch the way the veins in his arms begin to strain against his skin. The way the muscles in his jaw constrict and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmur as his fingers begin to scratch down the table, desperate to grab onto something. “Feel what it does to you…to be played with. Just like this…exactly like you wanted.”

He sucks in a quiet gasp for air as his head threatens to drop back, little curls falling across his forehead.

He’s not stopping you. And you know he won’t. He’ll happily let himself go right into his trousers, in front of the whole goddamn resturant. Right here, right now.

But that wasn’t apart of the lesson.

So, just when you can feel his resolve begin to crumble…you stop.

He exhales a long, deep breath, slumping into the chair as if completely drained of all energy, and you almost want to laugh.

“So…what did you learn?” you ask softly as you lean back in.

“That Eric’s a fucking ass,” he replies instantly, shooting you a lazy grin. “And that we’re definitely not kids in a tree house anymore.”

“No kidding,” you agree. “Anything else?”

He mulls this over, eyeing you closely. “That I think I’m more of a…hands-on learner.”

Your brow raises. “What does that mean?”

His answer comes in the form of his touch, hand outstretching for your leg, long fingers brushing across the hem of your dress. “It means…I need to see for myself.”

He pauses down by your knee in order to allow you the time to understand and either accept him or reject him.

But you simply blink, focus falling from his face down to your lap. “Ah…I suppose that makes sense.”

His lips roll into his mouth. “Mhm…what do you say, Teach?”

Your nose scrunches at the nickname but you smile. “I say practice makes perfect.”

And he wastes no more time in slipping beneath the fabric to travel up your thigh and toward your hips.

Now, you’re the one forced into restraint, a gasp immediately hitching in your throat as he brushes his thumb down the front of your underwear.

It instantly brings you back to the last time, and his touch, while familiar and oddly reassuring, makes your head spin.

You slowly look over at him, taking note of the way he’s so goddamn proud of your reaction, and the way he returns his attention to your friends.

Exactly like you had.

Because this is the lesson after all. The concept of teasing and torture and watching somebody come undone so easily.

The idea of getting caught.

You could tell from the moment you reached for him that this was something he was into. But even when he was trying not to thrust up into your hand, it was obvious that his interest lied with you and your pleasure.

With the idea of putting you under this sort of duress.

He really is a sadist.

Good to know.

"How's this for practice?" you hear him murmur as you become vaguely aware of the way he's scooted his chair closer to you.

You open your mouth, lips parted and ready to respond, but you can feel the beginning of a whimper threatening its escape.

So you swallow—thickly—and nod your head once.

"Good, then?" he asks, and you have to fight the urge to cross your legs over his hand. "Bee...I need you to speak."

But you can't fucking speak. The pressure of his touch has increased, and it feels so...so fucking good. "It's....yeah. Fine. It's fi—"

Suddenly, you gasp, and thankfully, it's lost beneath the jazz music still loudly playing through the restaurant.

But it's not lost on Harry, and you watch his smug smile expand as his teasing begins to slow. "Uh-uh," he tuts softly. "You know the rules. Make a sound...and I stop."

You exhale the singular word, "Har," and he hums.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"

You have to physically fight the urge to whimper with desperation. Truth be told, he’s hardly even doing anything, but his hands…

You’d fucked up by sneaking a glance down at the tattooed skin disappearing beneath your dress. Because it’s sinful to feel the cold, metal of his rings brush against your warm thighs. Sinful to know he’s pressing his thumb into you just to feel the way you’ve begun to soak the material he’s so effortlessly playing with.

He…is sinful.

And then suddenly…his touch disappears. Retreats from between your legs as your mouth just about drops open.

And you could cry at the loss of contact because it felt so safe and so exciting. Teasing or not, it was so fucking good, and you hate him for making you go without.

But then…you learn why.

His fingers move to wrap around the edge of your seat, getting a good grip on it…before he yanks.

Your chair is forced closer to his, squeaking against the floor as he begins to smirk victoriously.

“There,” he declares quietly before his hand is returning to your lap. “Much better, don’t you think?”

And it is better because now he’s so much closer, and has so much more room, and you’re so fucking close to just throwing in the towel and hurling yourself at him. Friends be damned.

“Speak, Bee,” he repriminds after a minute of your silence, and instantly, you begin to squirm.

“Har,” you whisper, both begging him for his mercy and for his cruelty.

“What?” he replies evenly. “What do you need, hm?”

You, you think. “Can’t…s’just…”

“Come on,” he tsks. “Think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

But you can’t.

“Please,” you try again, a faint request.

“Please…what?”

“Har…”

“Uh-uh. Tell me. What?”

Again, you swallow, willing yourself to stay silent. "Har—”

“No.”

“Harry—"

"...Harry?"

This time, it's Charlie calling his name, and immediately, you go deathly still as you turn back toward your friends.

However, Harry is calm as he raises a brow. "Yeah?"

For a moment, the three across from you simply stare, rather curiously before Charlie says, "Oh, I was just asking how Tina is?"

You could almost moan with relief.

“She’s good, yeah,” Harry answers cooly, pointer finger hooking around the edge of the material on your thighs to pull it aside. “Yeah, real good. Been working a lot, so I haven’t seen her much.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Jackie offers with a pout. “Is she nice? Will we like her?”

Harry laughs, head shaking with amusement as if he’s not dragging his thumb down your clit while you swallow a rather desperate whine. “She’s nice. I don’t know if we’ll ever make it that far, though.”

Caleb’s head tilts. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ve hung out, like…twice. S’not really that serious yet.”

And you almost snort, because to you…he seemed pretty serious about her.

But you suppose eating pussy doesn’t exactly require an engagement ring, and maybe he just wants a fuck buddy.

“Well…she still needs to pass the approval test,” Jackie argues with a wink. “And the fact that she strung you along for two months is not doing her any favors.”

“She was just making him work for it,” Charlie teases. “And he needs to be humbled, so I say good for her.”

“Please. Look at him,” she snorts. “He’s too pretty to be this dumb. Okay, he can do better than Tammy—”

“Tina,” Harry corrects before slowly easing the tip of his finger in, and your entire body goes rigid.

“—yeah, whatever. The point is…you can do better,” Jackie finishes proudly, shooting a pointed look toward Charlie.

Harry begins to smirk, slowly stealing a glance at you. “Yeah. Maybe we can all do better.”

Now curious, Caleb nods at you, and you do your best to control your reactions as he says, “Yeah, speaking of which…have you heard from…him?”

You shake your head quickly, mentally damning Harry to hell as he pushes in a bit further just to make it harder for you to reply. “Uh…no. Nope. Not since that night.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jackie tells you. “No, really. I will. I’ll hit him with my car and drag his dead body out to the woods, and watch the bears eat him.”

You breathe out a laugh, but it’s outrageously forced, and Harry can tell. “It’s…it’s fine. He’s…you know, we all move on. I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Harry says with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yeah, you seem fine.”

“Oh, I am,” you murmur through a tight-lipped smile. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Good,” he hums before you can feel him curl upward. “Hope it stays that way.”

Your hands drop to the chair beneath you, and you grip onto the sides for dear life in an attempt to keep from reeling. “Thanks for your…concern.”

“Anytime,” he beams as you feel him slip out. “Just want you to…do and feel the best that you can.”

The wet pad of his finger then returns to your clit as he presses into it just to push it in a teasing circle.

Your eyes just about roll back as you quickly turn your face toward your shoulder and fake a cough. “Fuck…sorry,” you apologize hoarsely as your friends look on.

“Are you all right?” Jackie asks softly. “Sorry, we shouldn’t have brought him up. We can change the subject.”

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to sound casual, despite the fact that you’re teetering on the edge of a wail. “Really, he’s just…a guy. Just some…stupid…sadistic…evil fucking…guy.”

And while the group across the table snorts their agreement, you see that Harry knows that jab was aimed directly at him.

He winks.

“I, uh…I need to go to the bathroom,” you suddenly declare, grabbing onto his wrist to forcefully shove it away before standing to your feet. “Be right back.”

“Feeling all right?” Harry asks innocently as he watches you push your chair in.

“Just delightful,” you reply before brushing your hands down the front of your dress. “Seriously, keep eating. I won’t be long.”

You leave the table before Harry can make another quippy remark, quickly making your way for the extravagant restroom in the back of the restaurant.

Honestly, you thought you had a little more self-control. You thought it wouldn’t be so easy to get you so on edge, and yet here Harry is, making you clench so hard in your chair, you nearly burst a blood vessel.

You lock the door behind you and make a beeline for the sink. You flip on the cool water and gently trail it down your arms and chest to cool yourself down as you will the ache between your legs to subside.

It’ll be easy to take care of once you get home, but you’re rather impressed with Harry’s commitment to…education.

And something about looking your friends in the eye as he played with your cunt like a toy was oddly invigorating.

Far more invigorating than it ever had been with…Eric.

You’ve no sooner smirked at this thought when your phone begins to buzz from its place on the counter.

Glancing down, you aren’t surprised to see a text from Harry, but it does make you laugh.

How’s it going?

Good. Just getting myself off before I come back, you answer.

Yeah? Texting me while you touch yourself? Hot.

Well, it’s not the first time.

A good minute passes before he responds, and you can easily imagine the way his eyes went wide.

Seriously?

Seriously. Why, is that weird?

Are you fucking kidding? No, it’s…I mean, it’s hot. Very, very hot.

Your brow raises. Yeah?

Kind of rude you never told me, though. Clearly I would have been of great help.

In my defense, I was a little…busy. It’s already hard enough to type with one hand.

And even if you aren’t exactly touching yourself right now…you aren’t lying about having done it before. Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to text you right in the middle of your alone time and needed an answer ASAP.

So…you’d answered.

Yeah? Do you need an extra hand? he replies next, and you chuckle under your breath as you lean against the sink.

Why, do you know someone?

Funny.

Thank you, I thought so.

Is that a yes, then?

I think I’m managing just fine.

Yeah? So you’re pinching your clit nice and tight for me?

You feel your breath hitch. This certainly isn’t helping. Obviously.

And you’re clenching around your fingers for me? How many you using? One? Two? Maybe three? Know you like to feel stretched.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you glance off into the bathroom. He’s trying to kill you.

Can’t really clench around anything when I have to keep answering these texts. Go eat your food and leave me to it.

And what kind of student would I be if I did that?

An obedient one.

And does that sound like me?

“Nope,” you respond aloud, but type, You have been so far.

Think I’d be more obedient if I finished what I started.

I mean…maybe if you knew how.

You wait to watch the bubbles roll across your screen, but when they don’t come, your heart sinks.

And then…there’s a knock.

A rather fervent and determined knock that makes you jump as you look toward the door.

“Bee…let me in.”

Shit. “I…uh, I’m a little busy.”

“I know,” comes the deep, sultry reply. “So, let me in.”

“Har—”

“Open the goddamn door, Bee, before I break it down.”

Clearing your throat, you put your phone aside and cautiously tiptoe toward the door.

After sliding the lock over, you pull it back just a hair, and peek through the crack. “Uh, hi. Sorry, this bathroom is a little occupied at the moment—”

His large hand comes out to press against the wood as he forces it open and steps inside. “Are you okay?”

You blink at him before scrambling to push it closed and relock it. “Uh…yeah? Why?”

He strides a bit further into the bathroom before turning around to look at you, almost as if suspicious. “Honestly? I kind of thought you came in here to hide from me.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know.” His arms cross over his chest. “I know you didn’t actually come in here to fuck yourself, so I thought…maybe you just felt uncomfortable.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know I didn’t come in here to do that?” you retort.

He smirks. “’Cause you always use both hands. And if you were texting me…you weren’t fucking yourself.”

“And how do you know I use both hands?”

He shrugs. “You told me once.”

Oh…right. “Well…maybe I was multi-tasking.”

“You weren’t,” he rejects immediately. “No, I think you either came in here to hide from me…or because you were upset about what they said. You know, about…him.”

An invisible fist snaps closed around your heart as you stare at the man across from you. The devious intentions and teasing from before are long gone as the man you’ve known for years, your best friend…stands before you.

The concern is evident on his face as you take a step closer. “Har…honestly, I’m fine. I wasn’t hiding from you, and I really don’t care about Eric. I came in here to keep myself from coming all over your fucking hand.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with the temptation to smile, but his gaze remains skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nod, taking another step. “Come on, I think it’s a little late to start questioning me now, don’t you?”

He sucks on his teeth. “Well…I can never tell with you.”

“I feel like I made my enjoyment quite clear.”

“I thought so, too. Until you made me stop.”

Now, only inches away from him, you come to a halt. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly feel like explaining why I moaned to our friends, you know?”

His thumb rubs across the skin of his arm as he peers down at you. “Thought that was the whole point of exhibitionism.”

You shrug, eyes falling across his features. “Yeah…or maybe I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know…like a secret.”

Instantly, he grins, exhaling a laugh at the reminder of the pact you two made when you were younger. “We are good at secrets.”

“The best,” you agree giddily before the laughter dies out, and something seems to shift within his expression.

“Then I think it’s only fair we finish the lesson,” he says quietly, leaning a bit closer as you begin to still. “After all…I still need to show my work.”

Your lashes flutter, the smell of his cologne beginning to overwhelm you. God, why does he always smell so good? “Guess…guess that’s only fair,” you agree faintly, and he seems pleased.

His head dips, nose brushing yours as he works to catch you off guard. “Then tell me what to do, Bee. And I’ll do it.”

It comes out before you can stop it. “Kiss me.”

He’s surprised by this request, going momentarily quiet but you don’t miss the way his focus falls to your lips, as if pondering.

“Kiss me,” you repeat, fingers itching to latch onto the back of his neck. “And this time…do it right.”

He seems impressed as he fights an arrogant smirk. “Right, huh?”

“Yeah.” You straighten up, bringing your mouths a tad closer, but still without contact. “Know you can. Know you know how to be gentle, don’t you?”

And almost as if in retaliation, his hands find your hips, squeezing rather harshly as he begins to back you up toward the wall.

When you collide with it, he grins. “Dunno about that.”

“Try,” you whisper, hands dancing up his chest. “Trust me, you’ll get a lot more points that way. The right kiss can do everything, and I promise…she’ll love it.”

He considers this for a moment, studying you closely before you feel his palm delicately cup your cheek.

He tilts your head back as he moves in, deliberately slow. “Everything, huh?”

You smile, nodding once. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Everything.”

He kisses you.

Soft, and careful, and sadistically tame. He kisses around your mouth, peppers kisses to your bottom lip, to your cheek, to the line of your jaw.

He keeps his tongue from you, and you almost huff because after everything, you think you at least deserve a taste.

And finally, once you’re moments away from wilting in his hands, he takes that taste for himself.

Your head spins and your mind goes blank and everything makes sense.

Because kissing him is fun, and it makes you want to laugh, and kiss him forever, and never leave this one spot.

And you’re so enchanted by this revelation that you don’t notice his hand traveling between your bodies to return to its home between your thighs.

But he slips underneath your dress without a moment's delay, fingers returning to their work of pulling your panties aside to finish what he started. And when you gasp into the kiss…he swallows the sound with ease.

“Is that right, hm?” he teases as he slides in. “That good?”

Your lashes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours, and you don’t offer a response because he already knows.

His precision just about kills you. In, out, in, curl, twist, pinch, pull. You can feel the drip down your thighs, can hear the sounds he’s making, can taste his desperation in each kiss he gives you.

And when you suddenly whine and squirm in his hold, he smiles. “There it is, yeah? Right there…s’what you needed, isn’t it?”

It is. It’s exactly what you’d needed, and he strokes the spot with fervor and just a touch of wonder.

It’s cruel and it’s wonderful and it feels so fucking good, and nothing else makes sense to you except him.

Just him and the way you’re about to come undone by his hand for a second time.

You nuzzle your face into his neck, lazily kissing under his ear, and he seems to sigh with contentment as he braces you both against the wall to continue.

“Come on, Bee…know it’s gotta hurt, doesn’t it?” he coos, but his voice is thick. “Know it hurts, so give it to me, yeah? Just give it to me. Let me make it better.”

And it overwhelms you, consumes you, controls you. His smell, his touch, his words. The past, the present, him. Just him. Only him. Right now. Everything.

The sound that rips from your throat feels foreign to you. It’s loud and desperate and eager, and he presses his lips to yours to be a part of it.

It goes for what feels like hours, but time doesn’t have a place here. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes. You don’t know, you don’t care.

You just…let it.

And you don’t realize the way you’ve slumped into his embrace as he holds you up, keeps you steady.

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you, murmuring words of encouragement with just a hint of teasing.

You don’t realize he’s refusing to let go.

But once you do, you realize something else, too:

You don’t want him to let go.

"Think we might have a problem," he whispers after a moment, lips following the curve of your shoulder as he offers a few parting kisses.

Your head falls back against the wall and you take a few deep breaths. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"Well...you kind of fucked up," he begins as he moves to the other side of your neck, sucking on the vein just below your ear. "You gave me a taste, showed me what I've been missing."

You can feel yourself smile through the haze as his hands continue to grope at your waist.

"I mean, just knowing..." he continues, nosing under your jaw, "...you've been keeping so much knowledge from me...this whole time."

Your laugh is airy as you reach up to comb through his curls. "Is that right?"

He hums as he nods, the palm of his hand slowly smoothing up your stomach, pushing the hem of your dress along with it. "And now I don't know if I can go without. Feel so fucking insatiable...just thinking about what else you might be hiding from me."

With this, his fingers delicately ghost under the curve of your tit, forcing you to arch into his touch as he smirks.

"And what is it...you want to know?" you manage to reply, voice soft and nearly inaudible.

He pulls back and meets your eye.

"Everything."

Shit.

"Everything?" you murmur, subtly tugging him closer.

"Everything," he repeats. "Anything. All of it. You. Me. Us. Every fucking second, every fucking way."

You know what he's proposing. Know exactly what this means, but you don't know if a friendship would survive.

And you don't know which is more important.

"So...what do you expect me to do?" you ask breathlessly, still squirming beneath his hold.

He smiles. "I expect you...to show me."

"Show you," you repeat, as if in a trance.

"Show me," he whispers, moving back in to lick at your bottom lip. "Teach me. How to be better. How to be right. How take care of you. Wanna give you everything you need."

"Everything," you breathe.

"Everything." His other hand gently comes up to cradle the back of your neck. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. Tell me and I'll give it to you. Promise."

But what do you need?

"Are you sure?" you ask, softly pushing on his chest to garner his attention. "It's not like teaching you to play pool, Har. Exploring kinks is...delicate. Sacred. It's not a game."

"I know," he replies, sobering ever-so-slightly. "That's why it can't be anybody else. It has to be you."

It has to be you.

"Why?" you challenge.

He simply offers you a knowing look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking for a reason to say no. Looking for the strength to know better.

But maybe you don't know better.

Maybe you just know him.

"Teach me," he says again, thumb stroking your jaw as those familiar eyes bleed right through to your heart. "Make me better."

Better.

Everything.

Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else feels right.

Just him.

"Okay," you agree quietly, and his entire face lights up. "For science."

"For science," he repeats, dipping down to press his lips to your cheek in thanks. "But only if you're sure. I'd never want you to agree just because of me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

He leans back. Frowns. He's unconvinced. "I mean it, Bee. I'm not asking just because I can. I’m asking because…it feels like something we both want. But if it's not—"

You kiss him again, stealing the rest of his argument. "I know how to say no to you, Harry. Think you should know that by now."

He smiles against your mouth. "Guess so."

For the next minute or so, you don't speak. He simply takes hold of your face with both hands and paints his gratitude across your tongue.

"So...where do you wanna start?" you ask when he finally allows you a second of reprieve.

"You tell me," he reminds you, and you feel yourself smirk.

"All right," you agree before slipping your fingers through the loops on his pants.

His eyes go wide.

Then, you tug.

"Let's start...with everything."

You bet your ass there’s gonna be a part 3, because now that they’ve opened the door…there’s no closing it 😗 and Harry’s got a long list of new kinks to discover! And I’m strangely excited about it?? This is concerning?? Pray for me???

Next Part:

~ Hurt Me* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Teach Me* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags:

@tiaamberxx @harrystylesfan2686

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show-your-fangs · 10 months

Note

What about a teenage!Jack where his friends are over and keep commenting how his Mom (reader) is attractive and Aaron finds it funny but Jack is mortified?

this is fucking GOLD. enjoy another installment of moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 665

CW: nothing, cursing mostly.

Tags/warnings: jack's friends being pervs, cursing, jack defending his mom and dad.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron honestly couldn’t blame them. He honestly found it funny, how their cheeks would flush every time you walked past, seconds away from catching them saying the most inappropriate things about you. He knew they didn’t know he could hear them from his office, the angle keeping him hidden as he tried to work while also allowing for their voices to carry down the hall.

Jack had brought his friends over for a pool day and he’d requested that the two of you leave them alone, that they could fend for themselves. But as much as he’d pleaded, you were still unable to stop yourself.

You’d made them snacks, prepared a homemade ice tea, would check in every so often to make sure they were doing okay. And every time, without fail, his friends would pretend to be utter gentlemen, thanking you profusely until you left them alone once more and they turned from the kids their parents through they were into the horny teenagers they really were.

It became clear to Aaron immediately why Jack didn’t want you around. It had nothing to do with his independence but rather the fact that his friends clearly didn’t know how to act around his mom. They’d made every inappropriate comment a teenage boy could come up with, and every time Jack would groan or roll his eyes or politely ask them to chill. But every time you showed your face the comments would start up again.

It was after lunch when shit hit the fan. You’d ordered a big family meal style delivery, had set up the large containers in the kitchen, with the boys’ help which they were eager to give, and had made a plate for yourself and Aaron. They thought you couldn’t hear them in the kitchen, thought they were being so slick, but they should’ve known better than to not wait for you to exit the room.

“I still don’t know how your dad bagged her,” Eric started, clearly teasing. “She’s just so—”

“So out of his league,” Dylan finished and the two of them snickered together.

“If I had a step mom like that…” Nick sighed and the other two chuckled, no words needed for the four of them to know what he wanted to say. Jack couldn’t help but cringe, the mere thought of his stupid friends thinking about you this way appalling.

“You boys need anything else?” you said loudly from the kitchen, a cue for them to stop talking as you pushed the door open with your hip.

“We’re okay, thanks mom,” Jack’s voice was chipper like it always was with you, always soft and kind. His friends’ immediately perked up at your requests, their eyes sparkling with what you could only imagine were requests that you definitely didn’t want to know about.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hotchner,” they practically sang in unison, their teasing only getting more pronounced as you walked down the hall, desperately trying not to give them anything else to talk about, but apparently that was completely useless.

“Check out her ass—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” you heard Jack groan, his patience finally running thin. His friends stilled in an instant, your instinct to fix it slowly creeping up from your heart to your brain. But Aaron was quick, his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move. “How would you like it if I talked about your mom like that?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought,” he stated, confident. “So can you please just stop it?”

His words were followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs in agreement, ashamed apologies and admissions of guilt.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, Aaron quickly pulling you into his office so the two of you could erupt in a fit of giggles. It was cute, almost too adorable that the boy you’d met so long ago was now defending your honor to his friends, was standing up for his mom, for his dad, for his family.

okay i'm trying to get through some of the requests. i apologize for not being as active, you know how fanfiction authors' lives go off the rails sometimes.

i'm going to try and post a few of these before my "taking some time off" announcement. i've got a big week coming up but know i am trying.

tag list: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #jack hotchner being a cutie #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs asks #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner

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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Text

How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 2

In which Y/N still thinks her dad doesn’t know about her and Spencer’s relationship. Rossi sets his daughter up on a date at his book signing party….

Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, cursing, you’ll probably get second hand embarrassment, Fluff, cute/horny/loveydovey!Spencer, JEALOUS!SPENCER

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“Do you think we have too much sex?”

This question caught Spencer off guard seeing as they were literally in the middle of having sex. He paused his movements and looked at her. “Uhhhh no?” He shook his head. “Do you?”

Y/N quirked an eyebrow. “No. But I’m just trying to figure out the societally acceptable amount of sex to be having.”

With this Spencer busted out laughing. “Do you think we have over the societally acceptable amount?”

She shrugged, smiling up at him. “I mean we have sex a lot but I don’t think too much.”

Spencer chuckled. “Where did this come from?”

Y/N wiggled her hips as Spencer continued his movements, pushing into her over and over again. “Oh fu— it’s just my next door neighbor has like a lot of sex— all the time and it’s loud.” She nodded, moaning in between her words. “Like I was up until four am one night because she was moaning like a fuckin’ diseased cat.”

“How come I’ve never heard her?” He asked, groaning loudly.

Y/N titled head. “Oh so you want to hear her moan?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“What— no!” Spencer exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes laughing. “Kidding!” She hit his shoulder.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The next day, Y/N was at her dad’s house baking a bunch of desserts for his book signing party the next day.

“Dad, how many mini strawberry shortcakes did you need?” She asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Um… 10, i think.” He nodded. “Y/N/N, sweetheart can I ask you a question?” He asked.

She cleared her throat. “Sure.” She smiled, wiping the flower off of her forehead.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. She froze for a millisecond.

She remembered the text Spencer had sent her two weeks before at the dinner party her father held.

How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you

She licked her lips and glanced at him before busying her hands with mixing the cake batter together. “No, why?” She asked, her voice calm.

He shrugged and leaned on the kitchen island. She didn’t turn back to look at him. “Oh, good.” He smiled. “I have this friend and he has a son. I wanted you guys to meet.”

Y/N swallowed hard and let out a quiet scoff. “Really?” She shook her head, turning around and smiling. “You’re trying to set me up now?”

Rossi shrugged. “I just noticed that you haven’t been in a relationship in a while and I think you would love Benjamin Fitz.”

“Your friends with Eric Fitz and his son?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Eric Fitz was a very… controversial news paper company man. Her shoulders tensed.

“Yes. He always made me look good in the paper.” Rossi joked, strolling over to his daughters side. “So, what do you say? Will you meet Benny?”

If I say no, he’ll definitely catch on.

Y/N smiled tightly and inhaled through her nose. “I-of course! It’s not like I’m seeing anyone so, it should be fun!” She said, internally scolding herself for speaking so fast.

Rossi nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll let Eric know.”

Spencer is gonna fuckin’ kill me

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N shivered as Spencer’s finger tips lightly glided across her back. They were laying in bed just soaking up each other’s company. She had been holding back the fact that she was set up on a date by her father since she saw him.

She could tell Spencer was about to fall asleep because his fingers started to move slower and slowly. “Hey, Spence?” She spoke quietly.

He inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah, baby?”

“Uh…” She bit her lip. “So… I um… my dad— he set me up on a date tomorrow night at his book signing party.”

Spencer’s eyes got wide. “What!?”

The woman sighed and sat up, straddling his thighs. “I— my dad asked me if I was seeing anyone and I told him no because then he would find out about us and then he asked me if he could set me up with his friend’s son and I said yes because I thought it would seem like I was seeing someone even though I just told him that I wasn’t.” She spoke very quickly and Spencer found it hard to keep with her words but he got the gist.

“So you’re going on a date with someone else?” He asked, his eyes dropped down.

Y/N tilted her head and she bit her lip. “Aw Spence, no— well yes but no.” She shook her head. “It might be a date for him but it won’t be a date for me. It’s gonna be torture.” She placed her hands on his cheeks. “I’m gonna hate every second of it because I won’t be with you, okay?”

Spencer nodded. “W-well… what are you gonna wear?” He asked, his eyes avoiding hers.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “I will literally show up in sweatpants if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

He pouted a little bit. “You look really sexy in sweatpants.” Y/N giggled quietly.

“I’ll wear a trash bag— a potato sack! Anything you want me to wear, I’ll wear it.” She nodded.

Spencer smiled, his pouty lips fading away. “I want you to wear…” He thought for a minute. “That pretty white dress that I like on you.”

She quirked a brow. “But you said I look sexy in that one.” She traced circles on his chest.

Spencer leaned forward and kissed her. “I want him to see how sexy you look and I want him to know that he can’t have you.” He whispered. A breath left her lips and she smiled.

She was about to lean in and kiss him again but the ‘diseased cat’ who she shared a wall wit started making noises.

Y/N gasped and slapped Spencer’s chest. “Oh my god! Do you hear!?”

Spencer stopped and listened for a moment before laughing. “Holy shit, why does she sound like that?” He asked through his laughter.

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes. “We’re never gonna be able to sleep now!” She shouted, doubting that cat lady could hear it over her dramatic moans.

Spencer pulled her closer with a smirk. “We’ll just have to show her what pretty noises sound like.”

“Oh my god, please make me scream.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N nervously looked around as she clutched her bag in her hands. She stood by her dad’s signing table. He wasn’t there, he was making rounds but she stood there in her tight white dress, waiting for him to show up with her ‘date’. She rolled her eyes even thinking about it.

Soon, her father and a tall blonde man emerged from the crowd of people and headed towards the table.

The first think she noticed about Benjamin Fitz was that he looked her up and down unashamed.

She gave a fake smile to her father and a head nod to Benjamin. “Bella, you look lovely.” Rossi smiled, hugging his daughter and kissing her on both cheeks.

“This is an amazing turn out, daddy.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. They stood in the rental area of a very fancy wine and dine restaurant. She looked at the blonde man next to her father. “You must be Benjamin. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled, holding out her hand.

“Please, call me Ben.” He winked and instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her in for a hug. His hands landed on her waist and her eyes widened, pulling away quickly as she laughed it off. “And your Y/N?”

She nodded, glancing at her father who had squinted eyes, observing the two. “Y-yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She said again, looking back at him. She had to admit, he wasn’t ugly.

“You as well, sweetheart.”

Y/N blew air past her lips and she looked around. Rossi cleared his throat. “Oh, I see one of my friends.” He smiled, glancing between his daughter and Ben. “I’ve got to make rounds. Have fun you two.”

“Thanks, dad.” She gritted her teeth as he walked away.

Ben looked at her. “Where do they keep the booze?”

Be fucking for real.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N had been leaning against the wall listening to Ben talk about being a Lacrosse star in high school and college. She nodded along but she wasn’t really listening.

Suddenly, she saw a very familiar face over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she almost choked on the champagne she was chugging.

“Uh, sorry to stop you there Ben but uh… could you give me a minute?” She asked. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she pushed off of the wall and walked around him.

Her boyfriend stood in the middle of the room with a book in his hand and a very sexy suit. He looked at her and smiled. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked, looking around to make sure that her father wasn’t there and watching them.

He smiled. “I just so happen to have a book that Rossi hasn’t signed.” He shrugged.

“Oh, really?” She asked, a smile forming on her lips. “That’s the only reason you’re here?”

“Mhm.”

She squinted her eyes. “Not because you want to spy on Ben and I?”

Spencer blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes. “Please. Me? Spying? Nooooo.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Well, I gotta get back to my date so… I’ll see you later.” She winked.

She walked back over to Ben, swaying her hips for Spencer to look at. “Who was that?” The blonde asked.

Y/N sighed. “Oh, just one of my dad’s coworkers.” She shrugged.

Ben scoffed. “That twig is an FBI agent? He’s too tiny.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

That twig’s dick Is most definitely not tiny.

She let out a fake giggle and waved his joke off. “More champagne?” She asked, nodding her head towards the catering woman who walked around with a tray.

“More? Really?” Ben asked. “You must be trying to get me drunk so you can take me home.” He laughed.

Y/N’s tongue slid across her teeth. “Yeah, most definitely not.” She shook her head. The woman walked by her and she snatched a glass off of the tray.

Spencer clenched his jaw as he watched Ben stare at his girlfriend like some porn actress.

I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill hi—

“Reid! You made it!”

He snapped out of his jealous daze and looked down at Rossi. “Yes, I did.” He nodded.

Rossi held up his pen and his free hand. Spencer opened the book to the front page and held it up for him. He sighed the book quickly.

Spencer sighed before speaking. “If you knew Y/N and I are together then why did you set her up with him?” He asked, heavily annoyed.

He hummed. “I wanted to see how much she cared.”

Spencer squinted her eyes. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled. “I wanted to see if she cared enough about you and your relationship by going out with possibly the biggest pig in the city to to make sure that I didn’t find out about it. I wanted to see if she cared enough to keep you safe.”

Spencer let the corners of his mouth turn up. “Rossi, I love your daughter.” He spoke.

“And she loves you, kid. I Can tell.”

He sighed. “Thank you for not telling her. I don’t want her to be upset or nervous.”

Rossi nodded. “Anything to make my girl happy.” He sighed, watching her roll her eyes as she drank more champagne. “I’ve got more signings to do. See ya, kid.”

He nodded as he walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he saw Ben reach to push her hair behind her ear. She moved away smoothly, playing it off like she had to cough. She kept trying to glance at Spencer without actually turning around.

To: Kool-Aid girl 💘

Meet me in the bathroom in five?

She looked around and saw him before looking back at Ben when she felt her phone buzz. “Sorry, about this.” She shook her head as she dug through her bag for her phone.

From: Kool-Aid girl 💘

Of fucking course

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Their lips were heavy on each other’s. Her legs were wrapped around his waist while she was sitting on the counter.

She moaned so quietly as he thrusted his fingers in and out of her. Her hands grabbed at whatever they could. Her eyes never left his though. That was the one thing he wanted.

“Fuck, Spence—“ Her eyes watered at the immense amount of pleasure she was experiencing.

“This is mine— no one else’s.” He grunted. Y/N nodded and bit her lip. “Are you close baby?”

“So fucking close.” She nodded. “You’re- fuck— the only one that gets me there.” She added because 1, it was true and 2, she knew he was feeling a little insecure because of Ben.

Soon, she came on his fingers and shut her eyes, panting. She didn’t have to worry about getting her dress wet because Spencer had pulled it up as soon as they got in there.

Knock knock knock

“Hey is someone in there.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she and Spencer recognized the voice. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Uh— it’s just me, dad.” She said, sliding off of the counter making sure that he heels hit the ground silently.

“What are you doing in the men’s restroom and why is the door locked? There’s like forty stall in there.”’

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispered. “Uh, I had a woman emergency and someone was in the other restroom.” She nodded her head at Spencer towards the door at the other end of the room. She had no idea what it led to but oh what the hell, right?

Spencer started walking silently towards it as she pulled her dress back down to where it was supposed to be.

She watched him walk through the door and disappear and sighed. She unlocked the bathroom door and smiled at her dad. “Hi, daddy. Sorry.” She mumbled, walking past him.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Now, Spencer and Y/N laid together in his bed. They were just in each other’s company. Again, his fingers were drawing random patterns on her back as she dozed off.

“Hey, Y/N? Before you go to sleep…” He spoke quietly not to startle her. She hummed and nuzzled her face into his chest.

“Thank you for caring.”

She smiled and squeezed him. “I love you. I will always care.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Holaaaaaaaa

I love this. Thanks to everyone who loved the first one so much!!!!!

You guys are amazing and I wanna kiss all of you.

Also ask me questions in my ask box!! I would love to answer them :))))

Anywaysssssssssss love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #Rossi!fem!reader

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youryanderedaddy · 3 months

Text

tw: female reader, non - con, pet play, victim - blaming

Eric laid it out since day one - you can be his lover or his pet, and it all depends on you and your behaviour. But you don’t believe him - you push at his chest and you turn your head when he tries to brush his lips against yours. You squirm when he wraps his big, muscled arms around you, and your lips pucker in denial when he tries to feed you. But what’s even worse, what really makes him tick, is when you try to run - when you wait for him to cross the threshold, all soft and doe - eyed as you finally, finally let him kiss you goodbye. When you act like a good fucking girl for once, just so he can let his guard down and forget to lock the door.

You don’t make it far. You spend approximately thirty seconds in blissful unawareness, having the sun caress your naked skin for the first time in months, the birds chirp and tweet, spring is in the air… And then the alarm goes off, triggered by the tracker installed in your shoulder.

It’s all your fault, really, Eric says. You could have everything. You could have a hot breakfast in bed and hundreds of kisses adoring your warm body. He could take a shower with you every day before work, carefully washing your hair, thoroughly rubbing the sweet flowery shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp just like a husband would for his wife. He could adore you with his whole being. He could make love to you, softly, gently - slowly working you to wet ecstasy with his fingers and tongue before he finally takes you on your back just so he can look at your face lovingly the whole time.

You could be his equal, he reminds you. You could have all these teeth rooting - sweet, painfully domestic moments - when he hugs you from behind as you bake a pie, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhales your lovely cinnamon aroma. When you fall asleep in the middle of a movie and he sighs with unhidden tenderness, carrying you to the bedroom - careful not to wake you up from your adorable, peaceful sleep. When you grow old together, thirty years from now, and he still remembers to buy you your favourite newsletter along with your coffee, the one with the double sudoku pages.

But you won’t, and he won’t, because you fucked up. You decided you needed less than him - less than his love. And that’s fine by him, he still loves you. He could never stop loving you, and if you want him to play the villain, if you want him to be your cruel master - for him to shorten your leash, who’s he to deny you?

So he buys a thick pink collar with his initials on it and the most adorable heart - shaped pillow which he lays by his office chair. You stare at it, dumbfounded, unsure what he means by all that - yet Eric is anything if not clear in his intentions. He drags you in by the hair, kicking, screaming and all, shoving you towards what he calls your new home. You feel your eyes prick with hot, humiliating tears, growing even more puzzled. But your captor just coos at you understandingly, patting your head as if you’re a wild animal, as he explains that, if you really want to act like a bitch, he has no problem treating you like one.

He has no problem fucking you instead of making love to you, knees spread far and wide apart in the air, almost reaching your chest as he plows into you with little consideration for your pain aside from a chuckle here and a pinch there. He can live without kissing your soft, beautiful lips if it means he still gets to bite and squeeze and abuse any warm flesh available. He can bear not hearing your breathless voice sing him praises if you can still scream and cry for him just as prettily - when you bruise and mark just as darkly, when you let him grip and grope you just as possessively.

And when you whine and sob, asking him if he still loves you - and if he does, how he lives with hurting you so, he reminds you that this is the path you chose yourself. After all, he doesn’t need to be a lover, not when you refuse to hold your end of the deal. He just needs to love you, even if that love ends up crushing you.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere drabble

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haknom · 5 months

Text

STARS AND RAINDROPS — PARK JAY

꒰ PLAY’S SCRIPT ꒱ ⪩ Park Jay was well aware of the rivalry between his basketball team and the drama club, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate them. He loved drama, and of course, he couldn’t express that to anyone. Upon hearing about the auditions for their new play, he only felt thrilled. He was good at hiding secrets, so signing up wouldn’t be that hard, right? Well, it wouldn't be if you, the club leader, weren’t practically everywhere.

꒰ CASTING ꒱ ⪩ bball-team-leader!jay x drama-club-leader-fem!reader (ft. k from &team, sohee and seunghan from riize, eric, younghoon, sangyeon, and juyeon from the boyz, danielle from newjeans, kazuha and eunchae from le sserafim, jisung and mark from nct, ricky from zb1, enha’s jungwon, heeseung, jay, and jake, songyee from woo!ah!)

꒰ GENRES ꒱ ⪩ highschool au, performing arts au, sports au, highschool musical inspired, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, fluff, angst, crack, (kinda) self discovery, and nonidol au.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ⪩ profanity, lotsss of arguing, jay has a nightmare, club/team rivalry, lying, k is like really mean, crying, kissing, y/n gets injured for a bit, mentions of possibly being sick, lmk if i missed anything!

꒰ SOUNDTRACK ꒱ ⪩ CLICK HERE!

꒰ PLAY’S DURATION ꒱ ⪩ 23717 words

꒰ AUTHOR NOTE ꒱ ⪩ first fic of the year!! honestly, this fic has existed for the last three years and went through the most craziest revamps in history... So recently I've been rewatching hsm with my older sister and forgot the plot of the old 'mansae' fic so here comes the new and improved mansae fic yall!!! — ps, thank sona for FIGHTING for this fic 😭 and ty to hana for proofreading!!

PERM TAGLIST — @soov @ox1-lovesick @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @isoobie @strwberrydinosaur @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @simp4jongseong @100203s @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @i-yeseo @y6qiso @flwoie @shinrjj @rikibun

ACT ONE.

“So, practice is still on tomorrow?” K asked while throwing his blazer over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m down.” Eric said with a smile, wrapping his arm around Jay’s shoulder.

“What about you? I’m sure everyone else is okay with it.” Eric asked the exhausted boy beside him, tightening his arm around Jay’s shoulder.

Jay hummed in response, a yawn breaking through midway. They arrived at K’s locker as he unlocked his own, and Jay pressed his back into the locker beside K’s. Today’s practice was enough for him.

He was ready to fall asleep and wake up the next day, discarding all his assigned work. His eyes fell shut at the sounds of K’s locker interior clashing with his personal belongings.

“Excuse me.” someone said, gaining the attention of the three boys. Jay slightly opened one eye, glancing at the sight before him. Nakamura Kazuha, a member of the drama club, looked annoyed more than ever.

Eric scoffed at the sight, alongside him, Jay pushed himself off the locker he was resting on and moved out of her way. She proceeded to tape up a flyer that promoted their club’s newest attraction—a play.

“Wizard of Oz? Really?” K retorted, shutting his locker at the same time.

“What’s it to you?” Kazuha said with a raised brow.

“Nobody’s going to watch that.”

“It’s optional. Either they watch the live action or the play.” Kazuha said, leaving K confused.

“Aren’t those the same thing?” K asked.

“One needs effort, and one doesn’t. For example, you look identical to an Oompa Loompa, so therefore, no costume will be needed.” She insulted him as K’s brows furrowed.

Eric snorted at the sudden insult, immediately clearing his throat once he felt K’s glare. Jay cracked a smile at her words, his gaze shifting to the poster beside him. His attention was drawn away from the conversation and onto the colourful poster before him. It was quite eye-catching.

Everyone in Decelis was aware of the rivalry between the two groups. It wasn’t anything new and stayed every school year, to the point where even newcomers heard about it.

It all started with a misunderstanding. Back in sophomore year, the drama club had just finished designing one of their new set pieces, only for a group of rowdy boys to ruin it right after. A basketball came flying into the center of their backdrop, breaking it immediately.

Of course, your first instinct would be to confront the basketball team. The basketball had a signature on it. One that anyone could recognize immediately; ‘DECELIS BBALL TEAM’ in bolded letters, slightly smudged from the number of sweaty hands that held the ball in many games.

The gym doors busted open, revealing a group of furious students who caught the team’s attention. “That’s where the ball went!” Sohee exclaimed while jogging towards the group of students.

He reached out for the basketball with a smile.

“Thank you—”

“You guys broke our set,” Danielle said, moving the ball out of his reach.

“What?” Sohee questioned, turning to look at his team members and then back at the students in front of him. His team members were just as confused as him. What did they mean by breaking their set?

“Is this your way of sabotaging us? We understand that your game is on the same day as our play, but that wouldn’t differentiate the number of viewers for both events.” Jungwon explained, leaving the group of boys even more confused.

K approached Sohee’s side with furrowed brows. “Why are you guys accusing us of something we didn’t do?” He asked as Eunchae sighed.

“How are we the ones accusing you when your team’s ball is enough to prove our point?” She said, taking the ball from Danielle’s hold.

“It came flying into our set pieces. Everyone in our school knows about the rules with your team’s ball, which is only reserved for tournament and practice services. Nothing else.” She explained. She wasn’t wrong about that. Definitely not. But still, the basketball team did nothing.

“If you guys don’t want to answer truthfully, then that’s fine. Keep whatever reputation you have to uphold, I guess. Stay away from the drama club room, or we will inform the principal.” Juyeon said, glaring into K’s eyes.

K felt furious. He had a history of bad anger management, and his teammates knew. He lurched at the group of students, but Sohee put an arm in front of him, halting his movements. K looked at Sohee as he shook his head.

“Let them be.” He mumbled as the group of students walked away, dropping the ball on the ground and leaving it to dribble as it rolled toward the two boys.

The changing room doors opened, revealing a confused Jay.

“What was all that commotion?” He asked the boys, taking in the scene before him. All the boys turned around to stare at their captain, including K, who was still mad.

He stormed off into the changing room, pushing past Jay, who blocked the entrance slightly.

“What’s up with him?” He asked, pointing behind him with his thumb.

“The drama club accused us of ruining their set pieces and trying to sabotage their play all because of our missing basketball. I don’t even know how it ended up in the halls in the first place.” Sohee explained while walking over to pick up the ball.

“That’s weird…” Jay mumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever, let’s continue with the practice.” He changed the topic as everyone went back to what they were doing.

“Jay, what are you doing?” Eric asked as Jay’s attention shifted away from the poster from earlier.

“What? Oh, nothing…” He mumbled, trying to play it off yet failed completely.

Jay looked around, registering that Kazuha had left to put up more posters around their school hallways a while ago and it was only the three of them together.

“Aren’t you coming?” K asked, leaving Jay unsure of what he was referring to.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, hoping it was the right answer.

“Sweet, let’s go!” Eric cheered as the two walked ahead with Jay trailing behind.

Jay didn’t know if he should regret agreeing or be glad that he agreed. He had no clue where they were and was even more confused once he realized they were standing in front of the doors to the drama club room.

“What are we doing here?” Jay asked nervously.

“You weren’t listening were you…” Eric said with a sigh.

“We’re here to get revenge.” He explained as Jay’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be bad. Just a little warning.” He teased and reached for the doorknob.

“I’m aware of our so-called hatred for their club but isn’t this too much? I mean, what if we get caught? We can’t be benched for our upcoming game. Plus, the season’s almost done. We can’t risk any silly behaviour.” Jay sternly said as he held onto Eric’s arm.

“You’re worrying too much. There’s no way Coach would bench any of us, we have to be the starters no matter what.” He reassured Jay and removed his hand from his arm.

“Follow through with the plan. If we get caught, one of us goes and tries to drive the person out of the room. I’d say, Eric, you’re a good sweet talker.” K said as Eric nodded.

“Alright…” Jay mumbled, still nervous. He didn’t want to bother the club anymore. Plus, what if this ruined his chances of ever joining one of their plays?

Auditions were in less than a week, he couldn’t blow them now.

They checked the halls before opening the door silently. The coast was clear, it was nearing the end of lunch anyway. Usually, nobody’s in the clubrooms during lunchtime. After a few weeks of observing, it was something Jay realized. He wouldn’t get caught signing up at this rate.

They walked into the club room, closing the door behind them. “What should we take? A camera?” K asked while holding one of their cameras in his hands. He examined the other options, including their lens as well.

“I doubt they’d care, it’s a drama club, not a photography club,” Eric said while approaching their other belongings. Jay’s grip tightened on the coat in his hands and gulped. Although he was sure they wouldn’t get caught, he was still nervous about it.

What if it really did happen? Then what?

“A play script sounds better. I heard they’re handwritten too, then proofread to make more copies.” Eric said with a smirk.

“The Wizard of Oz…what a silly name,” Eric said while thumbing the stapled stack of papers he held.

“I doubt they printed any of this. It looks freshly written.” He said and looked at Jay and K.

“Yeah—” K silenced himself at the sound of footsteps.

They quickly looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide. Eric passed K the script as he quietly walked towards the door. K pulled Jay into a nearby room that stored some of their smaller set pieces, shutting it slowly.

“Shh,” K whispered to Jay as his harsh breathing grew quiet. There was a silence between them as they tried listening to what was happening on the other side of the door.

“Hello?” A voice called, catching their attention. Jay’s brows furrowed as he tried to pinpoint whom the voice belonged to.

“Oh, hi.” Eric turned around, smiling at the person.

“Y/N, I was wondering about something, so I decided to wait for one of you to return.” He lied.

“It’s their club leader,” K whispered to Jay as he nodded. Why did their name sound so familiar if that was their club leader whom he never met?

“What is it?” You asked as Eric tried to think of an excuse.

“I know I’m on the basketball team and whatnot, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in drama.” He said, trying to stall more time.

“Here, why don’t we walk outside and talk?” Eric suggested. “I’m feeling a little cramped in here due to the amount of items your club has…” He said while looking around the room.

“Okay…” You said as he smiled and led you two out of the clubroom.

Once the door shut, Jay and K let out a heavy sigh. They opened the storage room door and exited.

“It’s like 50°C in there!” K exclaimed while wiping the sweat that dribbled down his face.

“I know,” Jay mumbled in agreement while trying to catch his breath.

“I’m surprised he managed to convince her to leave. I told you he’s a sweet talker.” K said as the two left the clubroom in silence.

They walked away from the doors as if they weren’t just in there as K held the script under his arm.

“Hopefully, we can last a few days.” He said as they approached his locker. He unlocked his locker as Jay examined the empty halls.

“Wait…” Jay mumbled while pulling out his phone immediately.

“K, we’re late.” He said and looked at the boy in front of him.

“Shit,” K muttered, placing the script in his locker hastily.

“Go, I’ll catch up later. Make a believable excuse for Mrs. Jang. I’m sure she’ll believe you out of all her students.”

Jay nodded and hurried to their English class. It’s true that he’s one of Mrs. Jang’s favourite students and was rarely ever late to class. Of course, she’d believe anything he’d say.

ACT TWO.

P.E. has always been one of Jay’s favourite classes. It was almost like a break from his other boring classes. He loved it and also loved being active.

The voices that cheered his name throughout the gym sounded like distant cries. His only focus was the ball that bounced in front of him and those he was opposing. He caught the ball in his hands as he searched around the gymnasium for his teammate.

“Chenle!” Jay called out, alerting the dark-haired boy. He passed the ball to Chenle who stood only a few meters away from him and ran closer to the net.

“He’s quite good,” your classmate whispered to her friend.

“Who? Chenle?” The friend whispered back with raised brows.

“No, silly! I’m talking about Jay." Her chin rested in her palm as she watched Jay with narrowed eyes.

“It’s not like it’s the first time you’re seeing him play… But I agree, no wonder the team made him their captain.”

You looked away from the two classmates, who continued to converse with each other. The floor everyone sat on was pretty uncomfortable. If it were the bleachers, that would be way better.

It was well-known how serious Jay became once he was on the court with an orange ball in his hands. He was way different from his normal calm aura.

Your eyes trailed over Jay’s figure; his eyes were focused on the ball and the court, sweat droplets visible on his body as his blue hair strands stuck to his damped forehead, and he was breathing heavily. Even with how far you were seated, you could still see quite a lot.

But not the ball that headed your way.

“Look out!” The voices of the boys on the court yelled in unison, scattering all your old thoughts and replacing them with new ones. You prepared yourself to be hit since there was no other spot for you to move, but instead, nothing came your way aside from the tall figure that overshadowed yours.

“Watch your surroundings, if I wasn’t able to catch that you would’ve gotten—hurt…” His harsh tone changed into a shocked one as his voice lowered in volume. His eyes were stuck on you, and he wouldn’t move, despite the number of times his teammates called his name.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your friend from beside you called out.

“I’m fine,” you reassured her as she glared at the boy in front of you two.

“We get it, you guys hate the drama club but that doesn’t mean you have to injure their club leader too.” She said as both you and Jay stayed silent.

“Jay, dude? We need the ball, focus!” Sangyeon shouted from across the gym but Jay didn’t move.

“Thank you.” You muttered.

“Right, no problem.” He responded awkwardly as his hand hit the basketball again.

He ran back to the court, throwing the ball into play. “My fault, whose ball is it?” He questioned while jogging into place.

“It was ours, idiot!” Sohee exclaimed while chasing after the ball.

“Why’d you even throw it here? There’s nobody there!” He said, standing at the other end of the court.

Jay apologized with an embarrassed smile. “Oh, sorry. That was my fault!”

“Jeez, what’s up with him now?” Sohee mumbled as he picked up the basketball, passing it towards their other teammate, Taehyun.

Instead of focusing on the ball and the match in front of him, his thoughts were clouded with you. So, that’s where he’s heard your name, in his P.E. class.

The only thing is, how come he’s never noticed someone as pretty as you?

Waking up on weekdays felt natural to Jay. It meant he would go through his same old everyday routine; wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast with his family, and then go to school.

But today was different.

His alarm rang like usual, he got out of bed, proceeded with his morning routine, and even made himself a quick breakfast. It was something he did every day, but as said before, today was different.

You wouldn’t leave his mind and it was bothering him.

He ran his fingers through his blue strands as he walked down the halls of Decelis. They had an upcoming game, he couldn’t let you distract him. His schedule for today was busier than usual; he had double basketball practice, a test in English, and a test review first period. It was terrible.

He mentally prepared himself for whatever he was about to go through, hoping that’ll all be over soon.

“Hey,” Jay’s friend greeted.

“Hey, Younghoon.” He’d greet back as Younghoon moved beside him.

“Woah, you look exhausted… Did you sleep at all last night?” Younghoon said, worry laced in his voice.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t get enough as usual,” Jay explained, which wasn’t a lie.

He was bothered by the same constant dream—which was more of a nightmare, to him at least—his arms around you as you stared up at him with eyes filled with adoration. If this wasn’t him going crazy then what was?

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep for a bit after the test review in Chem today.”

Jay at his words and nodded with a smile. “Hopefully.” He said, a yawn completing his sentence. He’d stretch out his arms as the two walked to Jay’s locker in a comfortable silence.

His eyes glanced at the freshly taped-up poster that advertised the drama club’s new play. That wasn’t there previously.

“Gross, now they’re using our belongings as canvas space?” A familiar voice said while reaching out for the taped-up paper.

Jay looked behind the door of his locker, eyes slightly widening at the sight before him. K was ripping their poster off of Jay’s locker.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jay began but was interrupted by another voice who finished his sentence for him. The three boys turned their attention toward the girl before them.

“Great,” K muttered. The drama club’s leader was practically everywhere. He couldn’t get away with anything.

You’d approach K, grabbing the now crumpled-up piece of paper in his hand with an unsatisfied look. “Why are you wrecking the properties of others?” You said, earning a scoff from K.

“Why are you ‘claiming’ the properties of others by taping up useless posters?” He retorted with a raised brow as you furrowed yours.

“Fine then.” You’d say as you moved to the nearest trash can, throwing out the balled-up poster.

“If you don’t want us to put things on your lockers, maybe invest in some name tags. Nobody would want to waste their time and remember every irrelevant member of the basketball team’s locker number anyway.” You walked away from the three boys, leaving Jay and Younghoon stunned. Although Jay was supposed to be offended by your words, he was impressed.

K gritted his teeth in annoyance, knowing he couldn’t do anything to you. He looked at Jay with narrowed eyes. “She’s really annoying.” He muttered in pure annoyance as Jay shut his locker.

As much as he wanted to tell K that he was in the wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Instead, he looked at the time on his watch and then back at the friends beside him. “Period one starts in 5 minutes. We should get going.” He’d suggest as the two boys nodded in agreement. All Jay had to do was get through his first two periods and then he could rest during lunch practice.

That’s all he had to do.

Yet that didn’t explain the thrilled feeling he was currently experiencing in his seat. Chemistry never had him feeling thrilled—and never will.

“I repeat,” the student’s voice on the PA system said, catching Jay’s attention.

“Auditions for Decelis’ drama club’s The Wizard of Oz play will begin in a week! Please, sign up on the signup sheet near the school’s entrance.” She’d continue.

“For more information, please ask the drama club members if needed!” The mic was handed over to someone else, causing quite a commotion over the PA system.

“You heard them, sign up now before it’s too late!” Another student said before beginning their own set of announcements.

“Eunchae has a real warming voice.” One of Jay’s classmates complimented her.

“I agree. I understand why she’s always on the PA system.” Another said.

The rest of their conversation went through one of Jay’s ears and out the other. He was too distracted in trying to think of ways to sign up for their auditions secretly. He’d never done this before and never planned on doing so, but it was their last year of high school. He needed to have the so-called high school experience.

He already had enough things to worry about. He still had time to continue this after his whole day of school. Delaying his plan-making wouldn’t hurt.

But they sure did become more difficult. Jay cautiously approached the signup sheet that was located near the school’s entrance, acting as casually as possible. He had only 10 minutes to figure out something before he had to be at the gymnasium for practice.

There was a whole crowd that surrounded the signup sheet which made his attempt to approach impossible. He sighed, trying to peek over the crowd of students who rushed to write their names down on the sheet of paper.

“Hey, Jay!” Ricky exclaimed while swinging an arm over his team captain.

“Hey.” He said, startled by his sudden appearance. Ricky looked ahead of him, grimacing at the sight.

“There’s no way this many people actually like drama… It’s so boring! I hated that class last year.” He whispered.

“Anyways, practice begins in five. How come you’re not early like always?” He’d ask, catching Jay off guard.

5 minutes of him struggling had already gone by within a blink of an eye. “Oh, uh, I was trying but the crowd blocked off my shortcut.” Jay lied, mentally scolding himself for how bad it was.

“No worries, I got you covered.” Ricky winked and clicked his tongue while pointing a finger gun at Jay with his free hand.

The two began to walk towards the gymnasium together as Jay felt his soul leaving his body. He definitely wasn’t going to succeed with signing up today. But he had a week to do so, eventually, he should succeed, right?

Maybe?

“Alright, gather around!” Their coach said while clapping his hands together. The 10 sweaty boys made their way towards their coach, all breathing heavily.

“I know you’re tired, but let’s do a quick practice match.” He suggested, earning disappointed sighs from every single one of them.

“Hey, hey. It’ll be beneficial. Your game is in 2 days, don’t forget.” He said, reminding them all. They nodded and proceeded to split themselves into two teams. Both teams sent their tallest members on both sides to the center for the tip–off.

“First team to score 10 wins.” Said their coach. He’d blow his whistle, throwing the ball up in the air as both team members rushed up to grab it, but eventually, the red team had the ball in possession.

“It’s okay, you’ll get it next time!” Jay reassured Ricky as he jogged back out in the open.

The ball dribbling echoed through the quiet gymnasium that only picked up on the sounds of their shoes squeaking against the polished floors and whistle-blowing.

“Get open!” Heeseung said to his team members as they spread out across the court.

He searched for an open teammate, sending the ball straight to Mark’s hands. He’d take this opportunity to dribble the ball, trying to get free from Ricky’s defence but kept failing. His eyes shifted to K’s free figure as he attempted a bouncing ball pass to only be blocked by Ricky.

Ricky caught the ball once Mark threw it to the ground and began to dribble it once more while sprinting to the opposing team’s key.

“Nice one!” Their coach cheered as Ricky passed the ball to Jake immediately who took the opportunity to shoot a 2-pointer, making it in, flawlessly.

Jake smiled in satisfaction while high-fiving his team members.

“Keep it up, Ricky. That was a good steal.” Heeseung said.

“Woah! Isn’t this cross-teaming?” Jisung was quick to address it in a teasing manner as they all laughed and waved it off.

“Okay, 2 points for the blue team! Red team, inbound.” Their coach instructed as they all followed through. They got into their positions, Jay guarding Heeseung, Eric guarding K, Jake guarding Jisung, and Ricky guarding Mark. Sohee stood outside of the out-of-bounds line while figuring out the many outcomes if he inbounded the basketball to a certain team member.

Eventually, the whistle blew as he threw it to Mark who managed to get free from Ricky’s guarding this time. He dribbled the ball to the other side of the court, stopping when needed. He then proceeded to turn without moving his pivot foot in an attempt to see who was free and who wasn’t.

His plan didn’t go as well as he’d thought it would due to the difference in their heights, causing him to sigh in frustration.

“Dude, I can’t see anything. You’re too tall.” He mumbled, making Ricky chuckle at his sudden confession.

“I get that a lot, actually,” Ricky said back as Mark rolled his eyes and passed the ball to his nearest teammate, Heeseung, who managed to run up towards him, leaving Jay behind.

Jay followed through and immediately began guarding Heeseung, there was no way he’d let his opponents get a point like that.

His eyes focused on the ball in Heeseung’s hand, watching its every movement. It kept a constant routine; dribble, hit Heeseung’s hand, and dribble again.

Jay then looked up at Heeseung, making eye contact with him. Heeseung looked away in search of his teammates as Jay followed his eyes. He’d grit his teeth in frustration, realizing that none of his team members were able to get free.

So, instead of passing the ball around, he went in. He’d dribble the ball while sprinting toward the opposing team’s net, performing a layup shot as Jay jumped up in hopes of blocking him and did so with force.

The ball goes dashing down to the ground, alerting the others who rushed to the ball. Ricky caught the ball, running his fastest to the opposite side of the court while Sohee chased after him. The two rose to the top of the net as Ricky reached up to tip the ball into the net but was abruptly interrupted by the sudden stinging of his wrist.

The whistle blew, gaining their attention as the two landed back onto the court, the ball dribbling away from them.

“Sohee, try to avoid fouling, okay?” Their coach said as Sohee nodded. They were all exhausted, breathing heavily as sweat droplets dribbled down their temples. 3 more points were needed.

Only three and the blue team would win. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?

Gladly, it wasn’t. The boys sighed out of exhaustion while taking their seats on the benches of their changing room.

“Nice play, guys. I’m sure we’ll do even better when we’re on the actual court.” Jay reassured them as they all smiled.

He got up from the bench and headed towards his assigned locker. He was ready to go home, especially after his long day of school. In a hurry, he removed the towel that rested around his neck, followed by his sweat-drenched t-shirt.

He then picked up the towel, dapping away at the sweat droplets that trickled from his jawline to his neck and around his collarbone, releasing a relaxed sigh.

“Yo, Jay,” called Mark as Jay looked over at the said boy.

“Hm?” He hummed, looking away afterwards.

“Are you free after school tomorrow?” Mark asked.

“I believe so. Why?” Jay replied while rummaging through his backpack for his necessities.

“I was wondering if you wanted to study together, then go out and play some video games. It's been a while since we last did so.” Mark explained while putting on his shoes.

"Sure, why not—”

“Which one of you did it?"

ACT THREE.

The sudden commotion made all their heads turn to its location. Most of them sighed and rolled their eyes at the sight as Jay stayed quiet. What was going on?

“Don’t you just love barging into our own private spaces?" K teased, approaching the doorway while buttoning up the last few buttons of his undershirt.

“I wonder if you guys also rehearse these moments in your drama meetings,” he started.

“Well, I mean, you are the club’s leader, right? I’m sure you’d know.” He said, but you remained silent and furious.

You never understand why your club members hated the basketball team in the first place. Yes, they were quite rowdy, but the same day your set pieces were broken, they lost their basketball. Which truly meant they couldn’t have been the cause of the incident, right?

Of course, that's what you believed, but the more you searched for the script for your club’s play, the more you doubted yourself. You felt enraged. There wasn’t anyone else who’d try to sabotage your club except for the basketball team. So you went to ask them for yourself.

You were already in a bad mood and didn’t want to put up with any of K’s antics, but he wasn’t helping. You didn’t care that you were currently facing a group of boys; some were shirtless while others sat on the benches, switching shoes or calming themselves down.

“What is it now?” K asked, resting on a row of lockers.

“Our script for our play is missing. Which one of you took it?” You’d ask again as Jay’s eyes slightly widened.

“Why would we take your club’s script? We have better things to focus on.” K said while crossing his arms.

He was a good liar—quite amazing, actually. Jay was surprised that K was able to lie easily without hesitating when it came to you. Maybe that was Jay’s own problem…

Eric minded his own business and continued to pack things into his backpack. He knew he’d slip up if he were to join in the argument, blowing their cover away.

Jay grabbed his tank top, slipping it on before his undershirt in an attempt to distract himself and drown out the conversation nearby. He gulped nervously and slipped his arms through the designated holes of his undershirt, glancing over at the two who argued.

“Once again, we didn’t steal anything. You guys are always accusing us of this.” K sighed, looking over at Jay, who looked away immediately.

“Right, Jay? We didn’t take anything.” K asked, causing Jay to stiffen.

He looked over at the two, making eye contact with you, then K. He signalled a look to Jay, hoping he understood its meaning. Jay was good at lying and could lie without hesitation, but how come he couldn’t do it with you?

“Yeah, we didn’t.” He managed to let out after hesitating many times before. Normally, after he told a lie, he didn’t feel any sort of way. He always found them as a way to save himself in certain situations, but he felt tremendously guilty telling a lie to you.

The two of you only exchanged a few words and a few moments of eye contact with each other, yet he felt like he was committing a crime. It was weird and confusing to him, at least.

“See, even proof from our captain. If that’s all you need, please shoo—or whatever you drama freaks say during your plays.” K said while pushing himself off the lockers and heading towards his backpack. You looked around the changing room, making eye contact with Jay once more, before leaving, still as enraged as when you first arrived.

Once you were out of the gymnasium, Jay rushed over to K with no hesitation.

“Dude? You know you took the script, so why did you lie?” He asked as K looked up at him.

“What do you mean, I took the script? You were with Eric and I, so it wasn’t only my doing.” He said back, making Jay frustrated.

He was so frustrated over nothing.

The other boys in the changing room turned their heads to look at where the voices were coming from.

“I tried to say no, but you guys made me go either way. I knew we’d get caught, yet you both insisted on doing so.” Jay’s words caused K’s eyebrows to rise slightly.

“Why the fuck are you so mad? You’re acting as if this is anything new. Plus, I’m not even the only one who lied, you did too.” He said, still confused as to why Jay was so mad, but began getting a little irritated at Jay’s sudden anger.

“Because you made me! Why would you put me in a spot like that in the first place? Like you said before, it wasn’t just me who was with you. Eric was there too, and still, you only called on me?” Jay asked while pointing at Eric and then at K.

K furrowed his brows. Jay was practically arguing with him for no reason, and it wasn’t making K feel any calmer.

“Bro, did someone piss in your cereal this morning or something? Why are you so mad over a simple incident that happens almost all the time?" K asked, as mad as Jay.

K stared into Jay’s eyes as he remained silent. Ricky took out an earbud, looking up at the sight of his team captain and one of their star players staring at each other in rage. He looked around the room, noticing that nobody said anything as all eyes were on the two from earlier.

“Woah, Jay, what’s up with you today?” Ricky asked while walking over to the two arguing boys. Jay was never one to pick arguments with friends, teammates, opponents, teachers, you name it. So, seeing this was not a regular sight.

Jay ignored Ricky, walked back to his locker to grab his belongings, and left the changing room while pushing past Ricky and K.

“What’s up with him? It’s almost like he’s against us and stands with the drama club.” K said while calming down.

“I doubt it,” Sohee said while tying his laces.

“It probably was pent-up stress from everything he had going on today. His schedule was pretty packed, so…” Heeseung added as the other boys nodded in agreement.

“Probably,” K said under his breath.

Even Jay hoped that was the reason. Ever since he laid eyes on you, he’s seen you practically everywhere; in the halls, the school’s garden, his dreams at night, during the day, and much more. At this rate, he couldn’t escape you at all.

As he made his way to the school entrance, the signup sheet caught his attention. School was out, and there was no one but his team members and you in the school. It wouldn’t hurt to at least attempt signing up before it was too late, right?

He approached the sign-up sheet while looking around the empty halls for any bystanders. There were already names written down on the sheet, and space was almost gone. He picked up the pen, going in to write his name in a tiny font, but was then startled by a distressed scream.

The scream didn’t scare Jay. What scared Jay was the fact that he was almost caught. He backed away from the signup sheet and looked down the hallway, revealing an angry you in the process. You looked up from your shoes, making eye contact with him as you glared.

He looked away, unsure of what to do or say, and speed-walked out of the school doors. There was no way their club leader, who was already mad enough, was going to catch Jay doing the unthinkable.

You rolled your eyes and made your way back to the clubroom to clean up the mess you made in search of the script. What were you going to tell your club members? You were supposed to proofread it today. Everything was planned, but the script suddenly missing ruined it all.

You’d sigh while running your fingers through your hair in frustration. Maybe you misplaced it somewhere, and maybe the basketball team was just misunderstood. It couldn’t be that hard to find.

You pulled out your phone and opened your reminders app. “Make an announcement about the missing script,” you mumbled as you typed away at your phone’s keyboard. You turned off your phone, slipping it back into your blazer’s pocket.

Hopefully, you can sleep this stress away.

Jay woke up in a sweat. His heart was racing as ragged breaths exited his lips. He sat up in an attempt to calm his breathing and racing heart. He’d glance at the bright light his phone emitted due to a new notification. The clock read 6:02 AM, way earlier than he normally wakes up.

He rubbed his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after that ‘dream’ of his. He got out of bed, slipped into his slippers, and approached the door to his bathroom. It was still quite dark outside, which felt off.

Normally, Jay would be awake by 7:40 AM, around the time the sun would rise. He also rarely had nightmares, but last night was weird. He doesn’t know why he even considered this a nightmare. You two weren’t even close, yet seeing you fall for someone else scared him.

He felt jealous even when he had no reason to feel so. The bathroom light was brighter than usual, causing his eyes to have a harder time adjusting to the sudden brightness. He squinted while looking at himself in the mirror.

He sure looked like a mess.

He picked up his toothbrush, followed by his toothpaste, and squeezed a bit onto the rough bristles. He’d place his toothbrush in his mouth with a sigh as he continued to stare at himself through the mirror.

What has gotten into him? Even throughout his crushes at the start of his high school years, he didn’t feel like this at all. He’s only laid eyes on you a few times and barely exchanged words with you to be able to develop a crush. So, what were all these dreams—and nightmares—all about? He spat into the sink, staring at the running faucet as his grip tightened on the edge of the sink.

Maybe shooting some hoops would get his mind off of this, which explains why he was at school an hour earlier than usual.

He slipped off his backpack, placed it beside the net pole, and went to crack open a window to get rid of the humid feeling. He then grabbed the nearest basketball in the process. He made his way towards the free-throw line, dribbling the basketball on his way there.

Once he arrived, he spun the ball in his hands to get a better grip and focused his attention on the net before him. He positioned his arms, getting comfortable with the ball and the distance between him and the basketball hoop.

Suddenly, as he let the ball slip from his fingertips, his thoughts became filled with you. The sound of the basketball ricocheting off of the net’s rim brought him back to reality. For some reason, he couldn’t escape you.

Luckily, the ball made its way back to Jay’s feet, making his job way easier. He picked up the ball, discarding the thoughts from earlier as he prepared to shoot again. This time, he dribbled the ball a few times before letting it slip from his grip.

He watched as the ball bounced off the backboard and back into his hands. Usually, he doesn’t miss his shots like this, even if his mind is filled with many distracting things. Immediately after catching the ball, he let it loose again, missing completely.

Again, he immediately shot the ball after picking it up, but of course, he missed. And again, and again, and again, and again… He even tried doing different types of shots; a layup, a three-pointer, another free throw, a 1-pointer, and missed every single one of them.

He paused, holding the ball in his hands. He was exhausted. Panting from all the previous shots he attempted to only end up missing every 14 throws. He took a seat, sighing in disappointment. He was frustrated, very frustrated.

He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, checking the time in the process. Only 20 minutes had gone by since he first arrived at the school’s gym meaning he had another 40 minutes to pass.

Well, that would be hard. He might as well try practicing again.

In all honesty, you didn’t mean to arrive at school this early. You woke up, panicking. Your alarm didn’t go off, and the clock on your wall read 8:05 AM. You were late—very late.

Or so you thought.

Once you hopped onto the bus, wondering if it could drive any faster, you pulled out your phone, checking the time once more, only to be disappointed.

It was 7:20 AM, not 8:20 AM. Screw you for not checking your phone when you first woke up.

You sighed and facepalmed in an attempt to contain your frustration. As the bus pulled up to your stop, you mentally scolded yourself while walking off, after thanking the bus driver, of course. In your defence, you were too busy worrying about the missing script for your club, distracting yourself from taking care of your own mind.

The more you thought about the script incident, the more you began to feel bad for your outburst on the basketball team. Your grip tightened on the straps of your backpack as you walked down the school’s halls in silence.

You had no clue where your feet were taking you, but with every step, you finally reached the gym doors. You hesitated. What if they weren’t in there? There could be a possibility that they had a morning practice, but there was a high chance they wouldn’t want to see you even more after yesterday’s incident.

You were ready to walk away, but your feet weren’t. You looked down at your shoes, waiting for one of them to take the first steps, because, for some reason, you couldn’t do it on your own. The sound of a basketball bouncing off the polished wooden floors echoed on your side of the door. You looked over at the blue doors in silence, debating if you should take the chance.

Suddenly, one thing happened and then another, leaving your mind confused. Your mind had no time to register what was happening, leaving your body to move on its own.

The sound of the basketball bouncing off the gym floor came to a stop as you realized what had just happened; you opened the doors to the gym without your knowledge.

You stared at the person who stood in the middle of the court, trying to pinpoint who it was. It was dark in the gymnasium, the only light being the rising sun that slightly seeped through the blocked windows.

ACT FOUR.

Jay looked at the entrance, just as confused as they were. He had no clue who was standing at the entrance and couldn’t see much due to the limited access to lighting.

“I…” You mumbled, removing your hand from the doorknob immediately.

“I, um, I’m sorry if I interrupted something.” You said, looking away.

“No, it’s fine…” Jay replied, clearly out of breath.

You looked back, genuinely curious to find out who it was and why they were alone, unaware that you were approaching the court. Their voice sounded familiar to you. It was as if you heard it quite a lot throughout an average school day.

“Did you need something?” Jay asked, dribbling the ball as they got closer to him.

“Not really,” you said as you began to walk around the court, trying your best to avoid the person before you.

He repositioned the ball in his hold, throwing it into the hoop once more.

“You seem like you do,” Jay said, causing their brows to furrow.

“How? You can’t even see me.” You joked, earning a small laugh from them.

“You know what I meant,” Jay replied, holding a smile while making his way to the rolling basketball. You two became silent; the only sound that filled the gymnasium was their shoes rubbing against the floor with the bouncing basketball noises to back it up.

You fiddled with your fingers as you watched their silhouette run up to the net, letting the ball roll off their fingers as it found its way into the hoop. Although you couldn’t see much, you were still impressed. The sunlight that seeped through the blinds shined on their features, flashing the vibrant blue hair colour and their fit build.

From this observation, you couldn’t hold back the question that slipped through your lips, “Do you play basketball?” You asked as they stopped moving.

“Yeah, I came early to shoot some hoops. I had to get my mind off of things.” Jay replied, dribbling the ball as he approached the three-point line.

He was satisfied with the shot he just took—he finally made it in. After the last 30 minutes he was there for, he finally got one of his many shots in. He smiled as he looked up from the line and turned around.

He faced the net, positioning the ball in his hands, hoping that whatever miracle happened a moment ago would happen again.

You watched from the bleachers, taking in every detail of their movements; they bent their knees and moved their arms as well as the ball in the process, eyes were focused on the net’s backboard, arms pulled back slightly, and suddenly, the ball was in the air.

The ball successfully went inside the hoop another time, and you began to clap in excitement. They turned around with what you hoped was a smile (and was) as you returned it. A sudden breeze from the slightly cracked opened window blew the blinds around, revealing the sunlight that was previously seeping through them as it shined on both of you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted after realizing who you were speaking to. The leader of the basketball team—the main reason you came here.

The ball rolled to his feet as he stared back at you with wide eyes.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“I’m sorry. That’s what I originally came here for—to apologize.” You explained. You looked around and then checked the time on your phone.

“I have to go prepare for the club today, but I’m sorry for yesterday’s outburst.” You said, grabbing your stuff to leave.

Jay stood in silence, the ball still at his feet, and you were now gone. He was unsure as to what you were apologizing for but didn’t ask many questions. Yesterday’s outburst… That was all he needed to know.

He picked up the basketball, threw it into the hoop, and of course, it didn’t go in.

Why?

Because you still haven’t left his mind.

ACT FIVE.

Jay stared at the locker before him. It read the number 734.

K’s locker.

He gulped nervously, wondering if he’d regret doing this later.

If he got caught, would that continue to ruin the relationship between him and his teammates, or would doing this be beneficial and help him get into The Wizard of Oz?

Maybe the first option.

He looked around the empty halls, double-checking that he was alone. He gripped the hall pass in his left hand as he reached out for the lock with his right. He had to hurry. The excuse of ‘using the bathroom’ wouldn’t work for long until others started to think he had the runs.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he cared so much about your club. Yes, he liked drama, but he never cared for the club, mainly before he found out about their club leader—you.

Jay turned the wheel on the lock, following the same pattern K executed when unlocking his locker; pass 0 three times, then turn the wheel to your first number, 16. Spin counter-clockwise, passing the previous number twice, and arrive at your next number, 34. Lastly, turn the wheel to your final number, 4, and yank on the lock with the hope that you made no mistakes.

The code had all even numbers, and as weird as it was, the code suited K very well. On the court, he was very persistent and strategic, his plans always included all the teammates since all the roles evened out perfectly.

Jay opened the locker, scanning the hallways once more before reaching for in what he came here for, the play script. He shut the locker, and a loud slam echoed through the empty hallways, startling Jay at the same time.

Either he was just really nervous or the locker was truly loud.

He held the script close to his chest, letting his feet take him wherever. His plan only focused on retrieving the script, not what came after. Suddenly, he stood in front of the Drama clubroom, a wave of nostalgia washing over him.

He crouched down, unsure of what he should do next. Should he slip the script from underneath or between the cracks of the door? Jay looked at the thickness of the script and shook his head. There was no way it’d fit in between.

So, he went with plan A, slipping it from underneath the door. He used his index fingers to slip the script in slowly, hoping it wouldn’t disturb anyone on the other side—not that he wanted anyone there. He’d hate that.

He was so focused on being quiet that he didn’t take note of the footsteps behind him.

“Park Jongseong.” The voice was deep and very familiar. A hall monitor—Seungcheol. He was the only person who called Jay by his government name, the one on his student files. Jay froze in panic and slowly turned around.

“Hey…” He greeted, cautiously. Luckily for him, Seungcheol stood quite far from his spot on the ground. Jay rose, hiding the script behind him.

“What are you doing out of class?” He asked, searching his hidden hands for a hall pass.

“I was excused,” Jay began but paused.

“For?” Seungcheol asked, but Jay remained silent. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, as he thought of his next words. He couldn’t lie and say he was excused to use the bathroom, right? How would that explain why he was currently standing in front of the Drama clubroom anyway?

He stared at Seungcheol as Seungcheol stared back. “Jongseong, what are you doing out of class?” He asked once again, but Jay still didn’t have an answer. How could he lie in a situation like this?

Yes, he was good at lying, but not under pressure.

In silence, Jay’s eyes shifted over to a spot behind Seungcheol.

“What is that?” He asked with genuinely concerned eyes. Seungcheol turned around, worried, while Jay took it as a sign to proceed with his plan.

He let go of the script, letting it fall to the floor and kicked it with his heel, causing it to slide under the door completely from the impact. Perfect.

“What are we looking at?” Seungcheol asked, turning around to face Jay who smiled at him.

“Ah, I must’ve been mistaken.” He apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.” He added, completing the apology. “I should head back to class now, shouldn’t I?” Jay said to a confused Seungcheol.

“See you later.” Jay waved goodbye, walking past the hall monitor and in the opposite direction his class was located.

Seungcheol was suspicious of him, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was aware of Jay’s reputation as the boys’ basketball team leader. But he was also aware of the rivalry between the team and the Drama club.

Maybe he shouldn’t question much of it, right?

Seungcheol sighed and rubbed at his temples in an attempt to soothe away these useless thoughts, which, spoiler alert, did work.

Jay quickly turned into a random corridor in the hallway he walked in, exhaling a heavy breath. One he held in and wasn’t aware of. His hand rested on the wall beside him as his eyes closed. Why was he nervous? He never was when lying.

It was scary knowing how much of an effect you had on him.

“Excuse me.” A voice called. He opened one of his eyes, glancing at the figure before him, and flinched once he recognized them. He straightened up immediately and cleared his throat. He stared into their eyes as they stared back into his eyes in silence.

“You’re in my way…” You said, hoping that would help his clueless self.

“Oh, right.” He blurted and moved out of your way. Before leaving, you gave him an awkward smile, still not over this morning’s incident.

Both of you weren’t. It wasn’t something to worry about too, but for some reason, you both did. It was weird.

Jay’s thoughts were clouded with the conversations from this morning. If only he had known you were the one talking to him, just maybe he would’ve purposely tried harder on his shots. And if you were lucky enough, you could’ve seen his trick shots. But instead, he held back. It was only a warmup, after all.

“Jay,” you called, making his stomach twist and turn. Why did your voice saying his name have such an effect on him? He had no clue either.

“Jay.” You called again, turning around to stare at him.

Either he was dreaming or going crazy, there was no way you’d say his name a second time while staring into his eyes. What was going to happen next? Perhaps something more?

“Could you let go?” You asked, shaking your hand to avert his attention from the movement.

“Oh,” Jay whispered.

Oh.

Jay let go of your hand, looking away while doing so. He was embarrassed. Very embarrassed. He glanced at you for a split moment, catching the same awkward smile you sent him before.

Great, he embarrassed himself badly.

You walked away, continuing your route from before, leaving Jay behind. Once you were out of his sight, he gripped at his scalp, pulling at his blue strands. Why did he do that? He had no clue. He wasn’t even aware of his sudden action.

Was it because of his so-called nightmare from last night? None of this made sense.

Especially the way Jay’s heart raced while butterflies danced in his stomach.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Is he okay?” Sohee asked from the other side of the court.

“I have no clue,” Mark replied, staring at their team captain alongside Sohee.

“Our game is tomorrow, how the hell is he going to play in this condition?” K exclaimed to the two boys.

“Hey, Jay!” K shouted, heading the boy's way. Mark and Sohee’s eyes widened at the sight, already imagining what would go down.

The two argued only a day ago and never made up—or at least that’s what their teammates thought—this would only escalate to something worse than the locker room incident.

Mark and Sohee ran after K in hopes of stopping him, but instead, K pushed them off of him. They failed miserably.

Jay looked up at K in silence. His fingers pinched at the palm of his right hand out of habit. His mind was elsewhere, not focused on the practice he attended.

He missed all his practice shots and game shots, constantly fouled, and played terribly overall. It was hard to watch.

“What’s wrong with you today—fuck that, what’s wrong with you lately?” K asked, staring down at Jay.

“What are you on about?” Jay asked cluelessly.

He knew exactly what K was referring to. But he couldn’t answer because he had no clue himself. His mind was so full of you that he couldn’t even comprehend what their coach was explaining today.

“What am I on about? Dude, you’re missing all your shots, fouling us like crazy, and even tripping over the ball! This is basketball, not soccer!” K explained, his anger slowly getting to him. He was frustrated.

Very frustrated.

“I don’t know either,” Jay said. He wasn’t lying, it was the full truth.

“Well, figure it out and straighten up. Our game is tomorrow, we can’t lose the second last game of the season.” K warned in a stern tone. It was almost as if he was the team leader instead of Jay.

“I’ll try,” Jay mumbled, turning away to the locker room. “You’ll try?” K asked, even more frustrated at his response.

“How are you going to try on the court if you can’t even try at practice?!” K exclaimed.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out,” Jay said with a sigh. He was tired, so tired. He went through enough today, and dealing with K’s frustration wasn’t on his to-do list.

He walked away, making his way to the locker room. K’s footsteps approached him from behind. They were harsh and loud. Every single one almost sounded like a full stop in a sentence.

“Hey!” K shouted, forcefully turning Jay around by his shoulder. They stared into each other’s eyes, K searching Jay’s for whatever he yearned for while Jay just stared.

He wasn’t looking for anything, all of K’s emotions were prominent on their own; anger, frustration, and a hint of sadness.

“You’ve been acting weird lately. First, you get all defensive about the script stealing, then you get all mad that we lied to Y/N about stealing the script.” K paused.

“Are you betraying us right now?” He asked, causing Jay’s brows to furrow. At this point, all eyes were on them. Their coach went to grab some cleaning supplies for the basketballs from his office but hasn’t returned since. He always misses arguments.

“Betraying you?” Jay was confused. “What does any of that have to do with me ‘betraying’ you guys?” Jay asked the boy in front of him.

“Why do you care for the Drama club so much? You’re aware of our hatred for them, aren’t you?” K’s words hit like an arrow.

“Jay, be honest, have you ever hated them?” K asked, causing Jay to stiffen. It was obvious he stiffened, even K noticed it. K scoffed at the sight, looking away for a moment.

“You can’t be serious. Those stuck-up brats blamed us for something we didn’t even do, yet you’re fine with them?” K said, and Jay opened his mouth to reply but was silenced by K’s voice.

"Kazuha, that annoying little girl and Y/N’s snotty little attitude—”

“Her attitude isn’t snotty.” Jay sternly interrupted K’s sentence.

“Why should you care if it is or not? She and her minions know how to do nothing but accuse and insult.” K insulted, rolling his eyes at the memories.

“They’re terrible people, especially Jungwon and Y/N—”

Jay’s hand bunched up K’s collar, silencing him immediately. K was shocked by Jay’s sudden movements but regained his composure soon after.

The two stared into each other’s eyes again, Jay’s showcasing his anger as K’s did the same. Eric rushed over before things could escalate, forcing Jay’s hand off of K’s collar.

“You need to chill out. Honestly, I don’t know what has gotten into you or what you’re going through right now, but please, talk it out with someone. Or even better, talk it out with us.” Eric suggested, but Jay ignored him and walked off into the locker room as K fixed his top.

K’s eyes narrowed while his brows furrowed. He hated the look in Jay’s eyes just now. It was something he had never seen before.

Truly, what the hell was wrong with him? Jay still couldn’t answer.

ACT SIX.

The sound of the tap water running echoed throughout Jay’s washroom. He stood there in silence, watching how it pooled up in the sink and then disappeared as his grip tightened on the ledge.

“Mom says if you’re going to use the water, use it. It’s been running for the last 20 minutes. It can’t possibly take you that long to wash up.” A knock and a voice emitted from the doorway, causing Jay to look over, revealing the sight of his younger sister, Songyee.

“Okay,” Jay said, turning off the tap water as Songyee left. He grabbed a towel nearby to dry his drenched face, water droplets dripping down from his chin and onto the marble counters.

The footsteps on the staircase caught his attention as he looked over at the door once more. “Songyee!” He exclaimed, calling her back to the washroom. She sighed and made her way over, resting on the doorframe once she arrived.

“What?” She asked, waiting for Jay to speak.

“Would you do something your friends wouldn’t be happy with?” He asked, hoping she would give a proper answer, but instead, her brows furrowed. She relaxed after a few moments of silence and crossed her arms.

“Depends,” she said, her words slipping out as a sigh. Jay looked at her, confused, waiting for her to elaborate.

Depends? That was not what he wanted to hear.

“I would, of course, tell them. They should be mad after you tell them, instead of them being mad after finding out you kept it a secret.” She emphasized, causing Jay to pause his movements.

He brought the towel away from his face and stared at himself in the mirror. His sister’s words replayed in his head, with a bigger emphasis on the word secret. He was good at keeping secrets. Maybe that was a problem.

“Songyee,” he started as she hummed in response.

“What if I quit the team?” He asked, his words startling her.

“Are you crazy?! Jongseong, this is literally an opportunity for your scholarship. It’s an easier way out than Mom and Dad paying for your tuition fee.” She shouted while Jay hung up the towel again, slightly tensing at the use of his government name.

“There’s two more games and the season’s done. All you have to do is win them both. Why are you thinking about this? What has gotten into you?” She asked, genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know!” He said in a harsh tone. Songyee was taken aback by his sudden harsh tone. What did she say to trigger something within him?

“Everyone keeps asking me the same question. How am I supposed to answer if I don’t know myself?” He asked with the same harsh tone, looking straight at her.

His eyes stared into her wide ones as he came back to his senses. He cursed under his breath, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He added, running his fingers through his blue strands.

“It’s okay,” Songyee whispered. “Sleep well, okay? Whatever you’re stressing over, don’t think about it too much. Take my advice when you can.” She said, followed by a quiet goodnight, and left the doorway.

Jay was tired. He was tired of how he reacted to K’s words, your presence, and his sister’s question. He had a game tomorrow, that’s truly all he had to focus on.

The second last game of the season. All he had to do was quickly sign up for the play and rush over to the gymnasium to prepare for his game.

Easy, right?

He turned off the bathroom light and headed to his room. He could finalize his plan in the morning because he was too tired to think logically right now. He turned off the lights in his bedroom and made his way to his bed.

His eyes fell shut as he drifted off to dreamland. Hopefully, he can have a good rest.

His alarm woke him up, the bright light read 6:45 AM. He rubbed his eyes while turning it off. You could say he had a somewhat good sleep.

The whole time, while Jay got ready, he recited his plan; arrive at school on time, during lunch he’ll sign up for the play and take note of the audition day, then head to his basketball match after school. Those were only the main points of his day, even if attending class was always included in his plans, it was never mentioned.

He got off the bus after thanking the driver and walked towards the entrance of Decelis.

If he was being honest, there was a slight awkward tension between him and Songyee during breakfast, but he didn’t pay much attention to it as she did the same, focusing on eating their meal.

He adjusted the straps of his backpack, blending in with the many other students who walked into the school. His eyes glanced at the pillar the audition sheet hung on, smiling. His plan would definitely work.

He’d look back in front of him, pausing abruptly. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized at the sudden collision.

“It’s okay,” you replied, causing Jay’s eyes to widen.

“Also, I apologize to your team once again. We found the play script, I guess someone returned it.” You said, smiling at the memory.

“Other than that, good luck on your game today.” Your smile grew as you waved at him and walked away.

To be honest, his heart was racing. He had no clue why. You were just doing the bare minimum, yet he was going crazy. He shook his head, inhaling and exhaling to calm his racing heart.

In the process, he looked down the crowded halls, making eye contact with a familiar boy, K. Usually, they’d be alongside him while walking down the hallways, but their group chat was quiet all evening and morning. They couldn’t plan their daily meetup in this condition.

K rested his back on his locker with his backpack swung over one shoulder—his signature look. Eric’s lips moved while staring at K. He was most likely rambling about an incident in the video game he played the night before. It was something he did often. The morning wouldn’t feel complete if he didn’t.

K rolled his eyes, scoffing, once Jay looked over at the two.

“Let’s go,” K said as Eric nodded, confused, but didn’t think much about it. He continued rambling about the video game as they made their way to class.

Jay sighed, regretting yesterday’s argument. It was obvious K was still mad at him for it. Was Jay really betraying his teammates over a play? He had no clue.

He shrugged it off, making his way to his first-period class that he shared with the two boys. English. Good luck to him, for sure.

Throughout all of his morning classes, Jay anxiously bounced his leg. He was impatient, wanting lunch to arrive faster.

English was quite awkward, mainly due to the seating plans; K sat behind Jay, who sat in the middle, and Eric sat in front of him. It was something they begged their teacher to do so they could talk whenever, but today wasn’t the case.

Eric even got up from his seat, sitting beside K, to chat with him and him alone. There were even moments when K would call Eric’s name from behind Jay, causing them to talk with Jay sitting in the middle.

It was very awkward, but he managed to deal with it for a whole hour and 15 minutes.

He waited until the end of lunch so the hallways could clear up a bit more before cautiously making his way to the signup sheet. He threw on his hood from the hoodie under his blazer, tying the strings to shield his blue hair.

Nobody could notice him at this rate.

He slowly reached out for the pen that hung on a thread, ready to write his name as small as possible in the corner.

“Jay?” Someone called from behind him as he stiffened. Their voice sounded too familiar.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did they even recognize him with his hood like this?

“Oh, it is you.” Their voice said, their head peeking around his shoulder. Jay looked away, quickly dropping his hand to his side.

“What are you doing here?” They asked, but Jay stayed silent. What the hell was he supposed to say?

“I was just wondering who signed up…” He whispered, still loud enough for them to hear.

“Why? Doesn’t your team hate us?” They asked.

Us?

“Don’t tell me they sent you here to scribble all over the names or something.” Their tone was quite harsh as Jay shook his head. He turned his head to look at the person beside him, regretting his choice immediately.

It was you. No wonder your voice sounded familiar to him.

“Then what are you doing here?” You asked.

“I said I was just wondering who signed up.”

You hummed in response, reaching out your arms to the list of names. Jay backed up slightly, giving you more space.

“Wait, how did you even know it was me?” He asked, words coming out of his mouth without him knowing.

“Your blazer has your initials on it on the back... The whole basketball team has that feature, did you forget?” You said while skimming through the list of names.

Right, he did. He removed his hood, embarrassed.

The disguise was useless. She still could’ve thought he was Jisung, but that wouldn’t have worked. They purposely made Jay’s blazer read ‘PJY’ so they could tell each other apart.

Jay sighed, ruffling his messy hair with his hand. The bell went, catching both of your attention.

“Oh. I gotta go.” You said, waving goodbye at him as he did the same. He walked away from the pillar, heading to his next class.

His plan failed, but there was still another chance after school. Yes, it’ll mess up the plan he made this morning, but it should work.

Hopefully.

It was 2:45 PM. Jay was finally excused from class for his game in the gymnasium, but that’s not where he headed. He rushed over to the pillar upfront, hoping that the signup sheet was still there. It should be.

He watched you place it back before leaving, right? Or was that a hallucination? He couldn’t remember.

Once he arrived, his questions were answered. It was definitely a hallucination because the list of names wasn’t there.

Shit, what should he do? Either he headed to the gymnasium for his warmup and was on time, or he rushed over to the auditorium with the hope he could still participate.

Of course, he went with the second option. The school’s gymnasium was the last place he wanted to be. He rushed over to the auditorium, his duffel bag moving with his rushed footsteps. He pushed open the doors, walking through the hallway.

It was quiet. Too quiet. How late was he?

He caught his breath, scanning the auditorium for any signs.

“What are you doing here?” Jay turned around at the sound of a voice. Nakamura Kazuha, but this time she was disgusted.

“Are you here to sabotage our auditions now? Too bad, you’re too late.” She said, her words hitting Jay like a bullet.

Does he know how that feels? Nope, but it was a good word to use.

“Leave him alone, Zuha.” Another voice spoke, causing the two to face the entrance as you walked in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Jay in a much nicer tone, a smile making its way to your face.

His face felt warm as the butterflies in his stomach moved to the beat of his heart—fast.

“Are you here to audition?” You asked as Kazuha’s eyes widened.

“Don’t you dare say yes, you fool—"

“Zuha.” You sternly called her name, silencing her.

“Well,” Jay started. This was his only chance, he couldn’t miss out on it. If he chickened out on admitting his true feelings once again, he knew he would regret it the moment he went home.

You never know what could happen after he admitted his true emotions. The words that were normally caught in his throat making it almost impossible to breathe finally escaped his lips.

"Yeah," Jay said, straightening up.

The heavy weight on his shoulders was lifted as Kazuha’s eyes widened, and yours did too, but you regained your composure quickly.

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that. But auditions are over.” You explained, searching Jay’s eyes for any change in emotion.

Was he being genuine, or was this a dare from his teammates?

“Oh,” Jay mumbled.

Great. His plan was ruined, and he was going to be late for his game.

Was God ever on his side at this point?

He gave the two girls a slight smile, saying his goodbyes.

"Good luck on your game,” you whispered, and he nodded. He left the auditorium, checking his watch while doing so.

It was 2:55 PM. Their game started at 3:00 PM. His teammates would definitely be mad at him. He rushed over to the gymnasium, out of breath once again. He was lucky the auditorium and gymnasium were near each other, leaving him with 3 minutes to change.

He didn’t even get to warm up.

He rushed into the locker room, being met with his angered teammates, especially K.

“Where were you? Weren’t you excused at 2:45 PM? Why didn’t you come here like everyone else?” K asked, following Jay to his locker.

“I’m sorry,” Jay apologized, placing his duffel bag on the bench in front of his locker. He removed his shirt, throwing it into his locker while rummaging around in his bag for his uniform.

“The fuck is an apology going to do? There’s 2 minutes left until our game starts. Hell, it would’ve been worse if everyone had to wait even longer for you.” K said as Jay slipped on his jersey.

Luckily for him, he wore his shorts underneath his uniform pants, slipping them off in haste.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Stop complaining,” Jay replied, annoyed at K’s words.

“You’re a terrible leader.” K spat, walking out of the locker room and pushing past the teammates who blocked the doorway, leaving the awkward and intense atmosphere behind.

He made his way to the team’s bench, taking his seat immediately.

“Is Jay here?” Their coach asked K.

“That asshole excuse of a leader? Yeah, he is.” K insulted, eyes still on the court.

“Watch your mouth.” Their coach warned as K rolled his eyes.

Right now, he didn’t care how harsh his words might’ve been. It felt like Jay was neglecting the team even while being their leader. He should be someone the team could rely on, and he was. But recently, he wasn’t. The team was all over the place, it was obvious they weren’t ready for today’s game.

The rest of the team members made their way out of the locker room, joining K on the bench.

“Starters for today’s match are K, Jay, Heeseung, Mark, and Eric.” Their coach explained, flipping through the sheets in his hand.

“You all know your positions, right?”

The group of boys nodded, some stretching in the process.

“Okay, go out there. Play hard.” He said with a smile.

The five boys made their way onto the court, taking their places, with K in the center like always.

“Focus,” K said to everyone, turning his head to Jay, who stood beside him.

“Especially you.” He said, glaring at him.

That was Jay’s line. He usually told the team to focus, then turned his head at one of their teammates, saying those exact words in a teasing manner. But the only difference with K’s words was that he wasn’t teasing Jay.

He was being serious.

As much as Jay wanted to respond to his words, he kept quiet, looking away from K.

“One member from each time, please step forward for tip-off.” One of the referees said, holding a ball with his unstretched arm in the middle of the court. K made his way to the center, meeting the opposing team member who was sent for tip-off as well.

They both glared at each other, getting into their defensive positions. The referee stretched his arm up, catching K and the opponent’s attention as they both looked up. He blew his whistle, throwing up the ball as the two boys jumped up towards it.

K tipped it over towards his teammates as Mark went after the ball. He dribbled, scoping the scenery while his guard made his way over. He’d pass the ball over to Heeseung, who ran across the court to the opposing team’s net.

Heeseung paused after catching the ball, shooting it into the net, and of course, he made it in, erupting cheers from the crowd.

2 down, and many more to go.

ACT SEVEN.

It’s honestly been a while since the match started. Decelis was doing great at the beginning until Jay touched the ball.

As much as it hurt to admit, he was ruining the momentum of the team. He fumbled with his dribbles, making it easier to steal the ball from him, missed his shots terribly, and even threw the ball at the referee.

He was embarrassing himself so badly.

The whistle blew, catching the players' attention. Jay was out of breath, using the bottom of his jersey to dab at the sweat line on his forehead.

“Time,” their coach said, calling the boys over.

“Dude, can you focus?” K said, walking beside Jay.

“I’m focusing,” Jay replied, lying straight through his teeth.

He’s been seeing you too much lately. You two were on proper terms to at least talk with each other, but that was worse for Jay.

Whatever he was feeling only got worse.

“You and I both know you’re not,” K said as they reached the team bench. Jay picked up a clean, folded towel, using it to dab at the rest of his sweat.

“What’s up with you and the Drama club leader?” K asked, wanting an answer.

“Nothing is going on between us,” Jay said, hesitating for a few moments.

“Yeah right,” K scoffed, looking away.

“Stop arguing.” Their coach said as the two stopped talking.

“Jay, I don't think you’re in a good condition to play.” He said, gaining Jay’s attention.

Those on the bench and those around him knew what was coming next, yet they were still shocked. They couldn’t believe their team leader and one of their star players were about to go through this.

“I’m sitting you out for the rest of the match.” He said, causing Jay’s eyes to widen.

“What?” He asked, confused. Genuinely confused.

“You’re messing up the team’s chemistry. We can’t have that happening right now.” Their coach explained and turned to call over the referee.

He explained to the referee that he was subbing out #1, Jay, for #19, Jisung. Switching out one PJ for another PJ.

What a classic move.

If the school’s newspaper club saw this, he only wondered what their headline would be; Decelis boys basketball team leader Park Jay, who’s also known as one of their star players, was benched during the second last game of the season?

He’d take that to his grave.

Jay took his seat on the bench in shame. This may be for the better. Who knows? Hell, he did.

Watching the team play without him was something he hated. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, they were doing way better with Jisung.

There was no awkward tension between the members, they all got along while smiling if someone stole some points and comforting each other if one of them made a mistake.

Just by the looks of it, this was definitely for the better. Maybe he was right. Maybe the team is better without him.

They don’t need a silly little captain like him to lead them around to do well, it was obvious they were good on their own.

What if his thought from last night was more than a thought? What if it was the truth? Should he really quit the team for the better? They probably all hated him at this point, especially K.

Someone who used to always be by his side hated the thought of having to stand in the same room as him—Jay’s words, not K’s.

His eyes became a light shade of red, he wanted to cry. Could he cry? Of course not, that was too embarrassing, especially with how many people were near him at the moment.

However, he did it. Warm tears fell onto his hand, which rested on his knee. He was good at holding them in for the whole week, so why did he fail to do so just now?

How come something so stupid like this happened to be what triggered his tears? Why didn’t any of the arguments with K do anything either?

It was so obvious that he had no clue. He had too many questions to find answers to, yet he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do anything recently, it was terrible. He couldn’t play basketball properly, he couldn’t sign up for the play, he couldn’t express his feelings, he couldn’t hang out with those he loved most, and he couldn’t understand why he cared so much for you.

He couldn’t understand why you were always on his mind 24/7. He couldn’t understand why his heart raced while the butterflies in his stomach swayed at the sound of your name.

Nothing made sense to him, and he hated that. He raised his hand, wiping at the tears before they became too much for him.

Jay sat at the edge of the team bench, far away from his teammates. Did he even have the right to call them teammates in the first place? Did they see him as a teammate?

He felt as though he didn’t deserve to be in the same room as them at all. He was a terrible person. Someone who was afraid to admit a stupid secret to his friends because he was afraid they’d turn their backs on him.

If he told them at the start that he didn’t hate the Drama Club and actually found them cool, then he wouldn’t have been here. It was his fault for worrying about what people would think of him.

It was his biggest flaw.

He wiped at his tears, now using the towel from earlier, hoping it was enough, and luckily, it was. The thing is, was he really crying over the incident with the team, or was he crying over you?

He still had no clue.

ACT EIGHT.

After yesterday’s game, Jay went straight into the locker room to grab his stuff and leave. He didn’t stay for the celebration portion nor did he congratulate the team.

He just left.

Even during P.E. class, Jay didn’t talk to Sohee. He felt like he had no right to, even if Sohee didn’t hate him. He still felt guilty. They almost lost the first quarter because of him.

Once he arrived in P.E. class, their teacher announced that they would be going on a hike for marks—something about getting a chance to boost your grade if you were failing.

He had a 97 in this class, what was the point of him participating? He shrugged it off, deciding it would be a good way to ease his mind for a bit.

A great distraction.

As he climbed the hill, he thought to himself. Did he really change like everyone said he did? Was he a terrible leader? Did he still have his normal calm aura? Was he still serious when he was on the court? Did he possibly fall in love with you? Were you the cause of his problems?

He exhaled and continued his walk up the hill, wondering if he’d ever find an answer.

“Jay!”

He turned around to the sound of his name, revealing the crowd before him. All his classmates, including Sohee, stood in a circle as their teacher faced Jay’s way.

He motioned for Jay to come over, and he did. His eyes widened at the scene, worry washing over him almost immediately.

“You’re passing the class the most. So, don’t worry about this mark. But, can you take her to a nearby bench?” His teacher asked, signalling at your injured figure.

Jay looked down at you as you looked up, making eye contact with him. Your hands gripped onto your ankle, questioning why it hurt so much.

“Okay.” That was all Jay said before walking through the crowd and crouching down in front of you.

He wondered if he truly had the highest grade in his class. So many other students could’ve done his job, but his teacher picked him.

He was thankful that he did. It gives him more of an excuse to be close to you.

In silence, you got on his back, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. He stood up, pushing you up to adjust your position on his back.

“Alright, thank you, Jay.” His teacher said as Jay smiled.

“Everyone else, let’s continue.” Their teacher led the other students to the route.

Jay watched them all walk past, making eye contact with Sohee, Jay’s smile faltering. Sohee looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. Sohee looked away, jogging after the group of students, as Jay sighed.

He pushed the scene back in his mind, proceeding with his more important task, bringing you to a nearby bench.

He followed his class, hoping one was ahead because he didn’t want to go downhill.

“You can grip tighter, you know?” He said, hinting at your loose arms.

“I don’t want to choke you or anything.” You replied, refusing to do so.

“You won’t though, don’t worry.” He said while stepping over a tree branch. Is this how you injured yourself?

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You followed through with his request, tightening your arms a bit more around his neck. You were quite embarrassed to be in a position like this one, hiding your face in his neck.

For some reason, you suddenly forgot about the aching pain in your ankle. All you cared about was the warmth of Jay’s back, how he delicately held onto your legs and the strong but easing scent of his detergent and cologne.

Due to how close you two are currently, you prayed that he couldn’t hear your racing heart. It raced just like that time you saw him in the gymnasium.

You weren’t sure what caught your attention—his blue hair or the way his eyes glistened in the distance due to the sunrise.

Or was the first time you felt this way when you met him on the first day of school in sophomore year? You doubt he would remember your first interaction with each other—just a quick collision that caused you to drop your belongings.

He was with his teammates, K and Eric who sent you glares, but was still nice enough to help you pick up the fallen items. It was the bare minimum, so how come you felt that way?

“We’re here,” Jay said, bringing you out of your thoughts. He turned around, crouching down in front of the bench. You took it as a sign to slip off his back, taking a seat on the wooden park bench behind you.

“What happened?” Jay asked, wondering how you injured yourself. You looked down at him, grip tightening on the edge of the bench. After a questionable amount of silence went by, he looked up at you, questioning your silence.

“Oh,” you said.

“I rolled my ankle on a root in the ground. I couldn’t walk afterwards because it hurt so bad, but I didn’t know why.” You explained, hoping it was enough.

He tapped on your shoe, silently asking for consent as you nodded. He looked back down at your shoe, removing it gently.

“Either you sprained your ankle or you just needed a break.” He said as he put your shoe to the side. He took your covered foot into his hold, slowly moving it around.

“Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” He said, chuckling softly with a smile. Once again, butterflies spawned in your stomach, your face became warm, and your heart began to race.

You could listen to him laugh and watch him smile for days.

“Jay,” you called as he hummed in response. You hesitated to ask your question. He looked up, questioning your silence.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with worried eyes.

“Do you really want to audition? It wasn’t a dare from your teammates, right?” You asked, staring straight into his eyes, searching them for any emotions they might’ve held. Jay’s movements paused on your foot as he stared back at you in silence.

“I do,” Jay began.

“I really do, seriously.” He said, looking back down at your foot.

“I just, can’t bring myself to do so…you know, my team hates you guys and your club hates us. It’ll feel like I’m betraying my team and our bond is already as broken as it is…” He explained, still softly toying with your foot.

You were distracted by his words, unprepared for the sudden shock of pain, causing you to wince quite loudly. Jay abruptly stopped his movements, looking straight at you with worried eyes.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry.” He said worriedly, removing his hands from your foot and you raised your hand, waving it off immediately.

“It wasn’t your fault. I was just unprepared, sorry.” You apologized in an attempt to calm him down.

“But, what do you mean your bond is already broken as it is?” You quoted him, hoping it wasn’t invading his privacy.

“Oh,” he whispered, placing his hands back on your foot. He didn’t know how he should explain it, a lot happened anyway.

“Well, K and I have been arguing a lot recently… I also feel really guilty about making them almost lose the first quarter of yesterday’s game.” He explained, looking at the dirt on the ground.

“I even thought about leaving the team at some point. Everything is too much for me to handle right now. My mind isn’t in its right state, you know?” He said with a soft chuckle and smile.

You were very much aware of how serious this conversation was, truly. But, god you couldn’t stop looking at the way his dimple appeared once he smiled, the way his soft and gentle hands held your foot as if it was a piece of glass that would break at any sudden movements, the way he softly chuckled, and the sincerity behind all his words.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, you’ve been there before too. Losing a play’s script was something that you feared most. It would prove how irresponsible you were as the club leader—a title you thought you didn’t deserve in that moment.

You were thrilled after finding it once again but still worried for a moment like that to repeat. You had to be prepared, you couldn’t let your guard down.

“Me too.” You said, biting your bottom lip in hesitation. Should you be admitting to one of your most embarrassing flaws right now? Not to mention it was to someone you only spoke with recently.

It was weird.

You felt oddly close to Jay. Even if you had a few—many accidental encounters with each other, they only proceeded to build a bond you didn’t know you two had. You hoped he felt the same.

“I’ve second-guessed myself being the club leader many times. Whenever I was stressed about something and couldn’t get the club’s tasks done on time, couldn’t keep the smiles on my club members bright, and when I lost the play’s script.” You explained, causing Jay to stiffen.

It was almost like hearing the words ‘play’s script’ could flip off a switch in his body, making him malfunction. He knew he wasn’t fully in the wrong for that situation but still felt guilty.

“It was something I feared most. I hate making mistakes and losing the only copy of the play’s script made me realize how unorganized I can be. It was my fault, really, I should’ve kept it somewhere I would remember.” You elaborated.

He nodded, tight-lipped and stiffer than ever. Of course, eventually, he would have to come clean. He didn’t know how you would react to the news though, not wanting to ruin whatever bond you two had built so far. Maybe it was better this way. He was good at keeping secrets anyway, right?

“I think you should be good for a bit. Try and see if you can walk on it now.” He said while slowly slipping on your shoe.

“If it still hurts, don’t worry, I can carry you down the whole way.” He reassured you as you nodded.

Hey, if this was his only chance to be this close to you, of course, he was going to take it and use it to his extent.

Surely, you might’ve been on the same page as him, staggering over your feet after rising from your seat on the bench. Your ankle was perfectly fine, but your heart wasn’t. You didn’t want this moment to end. It was obvious you wouldn’t get another chance like this one, so, why not put up a lie to keep it going?

“I don’t think I can…” You winced, putting your acting skills to use. You weren’t the Drama Club leader for nothing. You ‘attempted’ another step, stumbling over your feet once again. Jay was quick to grab you by your arm before you had the chance to ‘fall’.

“That’s okay,” he said, secretly cheering internally. He guided you back to the bench, letting you take a seat before crouching in front of you, silently signalling for you to hop on. You bit back your smile, also cheering internally.

You were very glad that your acting worked.

You got onto his back, wrapping your arms around him the same as before. The warmth of his back engulfed your slightly cold figure as the comforting tang of detergent and his cologne filled your nostrils. You smiled, placing your chin on Jay’s shoulder. You wanted this moment to last forever and he did too.

“Hey,” you said, gaining his attention. He hummed in response, too focused on climbing the hill to catch up to the rest of your classmates.

“You said you wanted to audition, right? I don’t think you’ll be able to get a major role since it’s quite late. But, I’m sure you can become a substitute in case someone can't make it.” You explained, hoping it wasn’t too much information for him to comprehend.

He nodded, unsure of what you really said. All he could focus on was the bumpy trail ahead of him and how close your voice was to his ear. He felt his face warm up as he cleared his throat, trying to forget about the feeling.

“If you want, we could—I mean, I could help you rehearse before the final play?” You asked. An odd silence fell between you two as you bit your bottom lips out of embarrassment. You weren’t sure whether or not that was the right move.

“Sure,” he began, catching your attention.

“I’d like that.” He smiled as you smiled, fighting back the sigh of relief.

You were glad you didn’t make things awkward between you two. Jay pushed you up, adjusting his hold on you, and continuing the walk in a comfortable silence, both of your hearts beating in sync.

ACT NINE.

Jay constantly stared at his phone all practice. He had given you his number the other day, just so you two could plan out a meetup, but you haven’t texted him at all. He thought maybe you were busy or you were too nervous to do so.

This wouldn’t be the first time he had been told he was unapproachable.

Due to his calm yet serious demeanour, there were many incidents where people told him they were too scared to talk to him—his blue hair did not make it any better—even during class. Many students were afraid to be paired up with him, unaware of how sweet of a person he really was. Once they got to know him better, they stopped fearing him, but that didn’t go for students who hadn’t gotten to know him.

He sighed deeply and grabbed his packed duffle bag. It would be best to leave it alone for now. Maybe yesterday’s interaction was a fluke. He couldn’t get his hopes up in case you never texted.

“Jay,” Sohee called. Jay looked over at the boy who leaned against the pole of a net. He motioned for him to come over as Jay followed through.

“What’s up with you and Y/N?” He asked, crossing his arms in the process.

What did he mean? Nothing was up, judging by how you weren’t texting him like you said you would.

“Nothing, why?” Jay replied, more disappointed than ever. He didn’t want to say those words but had no choice.

“It’s just, that you two were all buddy-buddy with each other for the rest of P.E. class,” Sohee explained. Jay’s mouth opened and closed a few times. No response. It was true that you were pretty close yesterday, but today? Not much.

“Ah, I was just worried, that’s all…” Jay said, regretting his words right after. He was supposed to be nonchalant about it. He couldn’t let his teammates know anything about his little ‘thing’ for you.

Was it even a ‘little thing’ at this point? He didn’t know himself.

“What about her asking about an audition?” Sohee asked, causing Jay to freeze. His arm dropped to his side, grip loosening on his phone but not enough for it to fall out completely.

What did Sohee mean? Did he overhear them? Jay tried so hard to keep this a secret but was still caught in the end.

“Don’t tell me…” Sohee paused. “You were thinking of signing up weren’t you?” He asked still Jay remained silent.

He couldn’t blow his cover. Especially after all how much he tried to keep it a secret, from you, his teammates, your club members. Everyone.

“So, it is true! No wonder you’ve been acting so out of place lately.” Sohee said, pushing himself off the pole as realization hit him. Jay looked around, hoping nobody overheard whatever he was saying.

Luckily, there wasn’t anyone around—or so he thought there wasn’t.

K emerged from the storage room, making his way over to the two boys. Jay looked over, eyes slightly widening. K was the last person that Jay wanted to overhear this conversation.

“You’ve been ditching us, giving us cold shoulders, and everything for that club of freaks?” K asked, baffled.

“Fair play, leader. So much for being there for us 24/7.” He said, rolling his eyes and scoffing.

Jay gulped. Although he was mad, he was unsure of what right words to use at this moment.

“They aren’t that bad,” Jay said, hoping those words were okay.

“Yeah, because they’re terrible! Did they brainwash you or something?” K’s eyes narrowed. Jay couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want things to get physical, but they could’ve.

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you guys anything. Of course, I felt terrible for taking an interest in it. I didn’t want to ‘betray’ you guys, and K only made those thoughts worse.” Jay blamed, staring at K whose jaw dropped while he pointed at himself in disbelief.

“Me?” K asked, walking towards Jay.

“I’m the one who made your thoughts worse? I was just telling you the truth and how I felt about everything.” He admitted, but his words meant nothing to Jay.

“Exactly why I couldn’t tell you guys anything, especially you, K. I’m aware I haven’t been in the right state of mind, but do I know why? Not at all.” Jay said, adjusting his backpack.

“Nothing is making sense to me anymore, do I know why? Nope. I’m just as confused as you two.” Jay’s tone was quite harsh and irritating. He was frustrated and annoyed at what K had to say, causing his own words to flow out with no hesitation.

“Whatever. Go ahead, spread the word for all I care.” Jay said with an eye roll that was mainly directed at K.

K swore he felt his eye twitch as Jay turned around, walking away. How could he end his sentence that way?

“K, loosen up,” Sohee said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“If Jay wants to do something he can, you don’t have any say in it. You have to calm down, you’re so controlling over him. No wonder he couldn’t tell us about it.” Sohee ranted and K stood still.

He was shocked that even Sohee took Jay’s side. Of course, they were all mad at him and how he distanced himself away from the team, especially K.

Still, was he really in the wrong? K sighed, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he had in him.

Jay walked through the school’s courtyard, eyes focused on his phone. There was still no message or call from you. Normally, you were everywhere around the school. He always managed to run into you, but today, you were nowhere to be found.

He had no clue where to look either.

He sighed, looking up from his phone, eyes meeting a sight he didn’t expect—your back facing him. He put his phone into his pocket, jogging towards you. He couldn’t lose you. It took him almost the whole day to find you anyway.

“Y/N.” Jay called, hand reaching out to yours. You stiffened at the familiar voice, pausing in your tracks. The soft gentle hold on your hand made you turn around, being met with a face you didn’t want to see.

Well, you would’ve if you didn’t find out about the news earlier.

“Finally, I found you. Is the plan from yesterday still up?” He asked, a slight smile making its way to his features. You couldn’t fall for it, especially with the way his dimple slowly appeared, you couldn’t fall for it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing. You stared at Jay’s face, he seemed worried. As if he had a reason to be, he was the cause of it all. You reached for the hand that held onto yours, removing it yourself, making his furrowed brows deepen.

You turned away, taking your leave in his silence. As you walked away, the distance between you and Jay didn’t change. His constant footsteps that increased in sound as he chased after you was all that you needed to stop.

“What?” You asked, abruptly stopping and turning around, causing him to stumble over his feet.

“What do you mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He asked, confused. Why were you suddenly giving him attitude after ignoring his concerns and leaving him hanging? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

You stayed silent. As much as you didn’t want to face him right now, he wasn’t giving you a choice not to. So, you might as well pop the question.

“Did you really do it?”

ACT TEN.

Jay’s pencil tapped against the surface of his desk as he stared out the window. He sneezed, attracting all the attention to him.

“Bless you,” Mrs. Jang said as he sent her a sheepish smile. He whispered a soft thanks before returning his attention to the notes in front of him. He couldn’t come down with a cold, not before the team’s next game. The sudden downpour yesterday must’ve caused his little sneeze attacks. Although it was a bad rainstorm, it wasn’t as bad as his argument with you.

“Did you do it?” You asked, grip tightening on the straps of your backpack.

“Do what?” He asked, becoming more confused. You bit your bottom lips, hesitating. You didn’t want to believe whatever you were told before, but it would still be best to hear it directly from him.

“Did you take the play’s script?” You asked, looking at your shoes and then at him. He stiffened at the question. This wasn’t the first time it happened. He also stiffened during the time you mentioned your fear of losing the play script on the park bench.

The sun that shined on the two of you before, disappeared behind dark grey clouds. It was almost as if this conversation took place in a play due to the perfect timing of the rain. Jay’s eyes were wide. The thing he was afraid of most happened. He knew he should’ve told you sooner.

“So, you did? Wow—”

“I didn’t.” He interrupted you, his words coming out so suddenly. “Well, I was there, but I tried to stop them.” He explained, brows raising slightly.

“You were still part of it,” you started, brows furrowing. “Weren’t you?” You asked as he gulped.

“What’s next? Did you purposely get close to me with the hope that I wouldn’t find out about this? And if I did, did you think I would have mercy on you?” You asked, hurt at the thought.

“To be honest, I trusted you and told you about how I would feel if the play’s script ever went missing, yet you didn’t bother to speak up during that moment.” You explained, now looking at him. His mouth opened and closed constantly, but nothing came out.

“Y/N,” Jay called, softly. It was almost like he was trying to swoon you over instead of addressing your accusations. If the situation was different, it might’ve worked.

“Listen, I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t.” He said, searching your eyes for any change of emotion.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Because I didn’t want you to hate me.” Jay began.

“Plus, I already felt bad enough when you told me about the fear and stuff, I didn’t want to make anything worse.”

“You didn’t want me to hate you?” You asked, scoffing.

“You made me doubt myself as a leader for a moment, Jay. As childish as it might be, losing the script made me feel terrible. And you knew about it but didn’t bother to tell me? Do you know what spot you put yourself in?” You ranted, leaving Jay no time to answer any questions.

“Y/N,” Jay paused. He didn’t know if the words he would say next would make matters worse or better.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Truly, I never really cared about the Drama club or took in my team’s hatred for them. They were just… there. But once you came along, I swear my life did a whole 180.” He said, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Do you want me to pity you?” You asked and he shook his head fervently.

“Of course not. I’m just saying you’re always on my mind for whatever reason and I can’t even function because of that. As we grew ‘closer’ I always wanted to admit that incident, but I knew what the possible outcomes were. I never felt this way about anything, but ruining whatever we had between us made me feel as if the world was ending.” He continued as you listened.

“So, instead of speaking up. I returned the script in silence. Remember the day we ran into each other in the corridor? Yeah, I was running from Seungcheol. I know that was the wrong move and I should’ve told you instead of keeping quiet, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” As Jay finished his sentence, droplets of rain began falling down from the grey clouds.

You stayed quiet, remembering back to the time you ran into Jay in the corridor. The way he held your hand made your heart race. You couldn’t bear with the increase in speed, so, you asked him to let go.

You knew if he didn’t, your face would’ve definitely changed shades, making your supposed crush on him quite obvious.

“Still not a smart choice.” You said before walking away as the rain became more heavier. Jay stood there in silence, staring at your back, his blue strands sticking onto his skin.

He breathed in and out, eyes slowly opening and closing as he watched you leave. He couldn’t do anything about this. It was as if everything he took an interest in or did, ruined the relationships between him and those he was close to, including you and his teammates.

You held your hand up to your chest, unsure if the racing in your heart was caused by Jay’s words or how fast you walked down the steps. You were mad at him, that was for sure, but he seemed genuine with his words and due to being the weak person you were, you would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him even more.

Jay stood up, eyes wide, and his hands on his desk. Once again, all the attention was on him, including their teacher’s. His chair scraping on the floor was definitely the cause of that.

“Are you okay, Jay?” Mrs. Jang asked, catching him off guard.

“Huh? Oh, yeah…” He mumbled while taking his seat.

He couldn’t believe he uttered those words yesterday. He practically confessed to you and you made no reaction. Great, he embarrassed himself. Why was he so in love with you to the point where he couldn’t function straight?

“Jay,” a voice called gaining his attention. He looked up, noticing the many students who packed up their belongings and the two boys in front of him.

“Are you coming?” Eric asked, gesturing behind him with his thumb. Jay raised a brow at him, genuinely confused as to what he meant.

“...For lunch? We always eat together on the day of our games. Remember?” He elaborated, causing Jay to ‘ah’ in realization. It would be a lie if said he didn’t forget about today’s game. It was the last one of the season. He couldn’t play as sloppily as before.

He began to pack up his belongings, glancing at the two boys while doing so.

K stood beside Eric, a scowl present on his features. Clearly, he was forced to face him. The intense tension engulfed Jay as he cleared his throat, hoping it would clear the tension too. Sadly, it didn’t, but it did gain Eric’s attention.

“You’re done?” He asked and Jay nodded while swinging his backpack over a shoulder.

“Do you think Coach will let you play today?” Eric asked Jay as the three walked down the halls.

“Probably not. But, we will have to see.” Jay said with his words coming out as a sigh. K tensed beside him, quieter than ever. Usually, he would chat with them, but it was too awkward to do so.

Did he feel awkward because of yesterday’s chat? What if Jay and Sohee’s words really got to him?

“K!” Eric shouted, startling K out of his thoughts. K turned around, noticing he missed the whole entrance to the cafeteria due to his distracted thoughts.

“My bad,” he mumbled, making his way back to the two boys and then into the cafeteria without giving them another glance. Eric and Jay looked at each other and then shrugged, but before walking in, Jay spoke up.

“Wait,” he began, causing Eric to pause. “I thought you hated me? Why are you talking to me as if nothing happened?” He asked.

“Not sure, but I never hated you. Yeah, there was a moment of disappointment, but we can’t decide your choices.” Eric flashed Jay a smile before walking into the cafeteria and making his way to the team’s table. The one Jay picked out back in freshman year. Although most were mad at him, at least they didn’t switch tables.

Jay caught up with Eric as they both took their seats at the filled table. The mood wasn’t as bad as Jay intended it to be. At practice, it was awkward and heavy, but right now, it was light and comforting. Truly, he missed days like these and his best friends, especially K.

But clearly, it would take at least 1 light-year to build their previous bond again.

“So, Jay,” Sohee called, causing Jay’s eyes to shift over to the male. Jay wasn’t even aware that he was staring at K who sat opposite Jay at the table. Sohee took a bite of his food before continuing his sentence.

“Did things escalate with Y/N?” He asked. Jay’s gaze briefly shifted over to K, his tensing figure not going unnoticed by the blue-haired boy. “What do you mean?” Jay asked, his eyes now on Sohee.

“I heard she found out about the script issue…” He explained as everyone at the table looked at the two, excluding K.

“Shit, really?” Mark asked while stabbing his fork into today’s meal—pork chops. Sohee nodded at Mark’s question as K abruptly stood up, silencing Jay before he had the chance to reply. He grabbed his belongings and his untouched tray of food.

“I’m not hungry. See you guys at the game.” He said before leaving them behind. Jay watched as K walked away, not sparing a glance at the team as he exited the cafeteria.

“Ignore him. He’s been like that ever since we all found out about you and Y/N.” Heeseung reassured Jay, causing him to look back in front of him. Jay nodded, smiling awkwardly before taking another bite of his bowl of rice.

The atmosphere became quite awkward as Jay tried to avoid the question as much as possible by staying silent. It worked but ruined the comforting mood that was present earlier.

He wondered if you were still mad at him. Of course, he messed up, but he tried to stop them and still returned the script in the end. Although it took him a week to do so, he understood he should’ve confronted you about it once you two became close.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hated confrontation.

His last period wasn’t anything fun. It was just as boring as his other classes. Many classmates wished him good luck on his game while teachers excused him from their homework assignments.

“Land a big one on them!” Mr. Lee exclaimed as Jay laughed awkwardly. He left his classroom at the same time as before—2:45 PM—and made his way to his locker. He promised his teammates he wouldn’t be late this time. There was nothing to distract him from doing so too. You were absent today.

Or so he thought.

Right when he shut his locker, he saw your figure a few meters away from his. His eyes widened as you rummaged through your locker. If that was your locker, how come he’s never seen you there?

“Y/N?” Jay called, biting his lip right after. He didn’t mean for it to slip out.

You froze at the voice, pausing your movements as well. You then hurriedly grabbed your books and shut your locker while swiftly slipping on your lock before rushing away. You were avoiding him for a reason, so, why did you see him in the most unnecessary spot possible?

“Wait!” Jay exclaimed, jogging after you. You must be a fool if you thought you could escape an athlete like him. You stopped running and turned around, exhausted while Jay looked as if he didn’t move an inch.

Wow, he was lucky.

“What?” You asked in a bitter tone. Jay looked at his phone, the clock reading 2:47 PM.

“I have three minutes to do this, so please don’t interrupt me” He pleaded as you stared at him. Although you showcased that you were unamused, you secretly were.

“I’m sorry.” Jay began with a sigh.

“I understand what I’ve done wrong. Even if I tried to stop them and returned the script, it can’t excuse my mistake, okay? I’m sorry if you felt as if I was taking advantage of you. I swear I wasn’t.” He explained as every word that escaped his mouth lingered with sympathy.

“I believe you’re an amazing leader and that you should never doubt yourself, especially over a mistake like that one. It happens to the best of us.”

“Don’t forgive me, it’s fine. We can restart whenever you’re ready.” He finished off with a slight smile, checking his phone once more. There was only a minute left to hear your response.

“So, what do you say?” He asked, a little panicky. You sighed while shaking your head.

“You make it really hard to stay mad at you, you know? Why do your words have to be so heartfelt and picked out oh so carefully?” You said as a smile made its way to his face again.

“I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold that mistake against you. One more mistake and whatever this is will end.” You warned while motioning between you both. He nodded and chuckled.

You were well aware of his feelings for you. Yesterday’s argument was enough to confirm that he supposedly felt the same way you did. The only difference was, he didn’t know you felt the same way. Hopefully, he could find out before another mistake was made.

“You’re going to be late, go to your match. You need to at least warm up.” You ushered him down the hallway towards the gymnasium and waved him goodbye as he did the same.

Now that everything was cleared up between you two, he would definitely do better in this match.

ACT ELEVEN.

“Starters for today, Ricky, Mark, Sohee, Jisung, and Jake.” Their coach said, causing the team to gasp.

“What about K, Jay, and Eric?” Asked Jisung. He looked at the three who sat on the bench quieter than ever. This was the first time their coach had ever done this, of course, everyone was shocked.

“You guys will be fine. Today’s team isn’t that difficult, so let’s preserve their energy until it is needed.” He explained while marking something off on his clipboard.

“Jay, are you in proper condition to play today?” He asked while making his way over to the boy. Jay looked up from his shoes and nodded at their coach's words. Their coach smiled, checking something off once again.

“Perfect,” he began.

“Okay, go out there and play well.” He said to the teammates who were said to play first. They followed through with his instructions and made their way to the court. Although there wasn’t any backup with their three-star players, they still had hope they could win.

Chemistry was all their team needed to win. So, K and Jay better make up before they had to step foot on the court.

Jay held out his fist that hid a wrapped-up peppermint in front of K’s view. K looked up from the ground at Jay’s hand and then his eyes shifted over to Jay who sat beside him. Jay opened his hand, revealing the peppermint to K.

“What?” K asked, staring at the sweet confused. Jay ushered him to take it as he followed through.

“Good, now eat it,” Jay ordered as K’s brows furrowed. “Did you poison it or something? I wouldn’t be shocked if you did, I’ve been an ass lately.” K said while hesitating to unravel the sweet.

Jay chuckled while looking at the players on the court getting into position. “At least you’re self-aware, but I have been one too. Still, I wouldn’t poison anything.” He said, rubbing his hands together.

“Listen, when we go on the court, we need to at least work together,” Jay explained, gaining K’s attention.

“Just because we had multiple arguments and not the best friendship lately doesn’t mean we can let our team lose, and that doesn’t mean I fully forgive you.”

“I would take your advice for yourself if I were you,” K said, referring to the last time Jay played on the court. Jay sent him a glare.

“I’m in a good mood right now, do not blow it,” Jay warned while pointing at him which only made K burst out laughing.

“Anyways, I wouldn’t dare to let our team lose. Glad, you’re finally acting like the team’s captain.” K teased as Jay softly punched him in the gut. K winced in pain as Jay playfully rolled his eyes and continued watching the game.

Jisung had the ball, tossing it up in the air as it made its way into the net. An easy 3-pointer only a minute into the game was all they needed to kickstart their desire to win.

Perfect.

Eventually, Jay, K, and Eric were subbed in for the last two quarters. The new lineup included the three boys and Mark who seemed to be in great shape even after 24 minutes of playing.

His stamina was insane.

“Focus,” Jay said from his spot in the key, turning his head to Mark across from him.

“Don’t beat yourself up if you’re tired. Just ask Coach to sub you off, okay?” He reassured the boy as Mark nodded.

The referee blew his whistle, passing the ball to the opposing team’s side. It was their ball when the second quarter ended anyway.

Decelis’ boys were now spaced out on the court, guarding their opponents. The points were at a good distance with Jay’s team being at 36 and the other team being at 24. Still, there was no knowing when they’d catch up.

It could happen at any time.

The referee blew his whistle again as the opposing team inbounded their ball. Mark failed to block his opponent as they ran down the court to their goal, it was obvious he was soon going to reach his limit.

Mark’s opponent passed the ball toward the player K was guarding—a rookie mistake. Never pass the ball if K was around.

With that said, K caught the ball, shocking the opponent behind him. He dribbled the ball, dashing to the other side of the court as his teammates followed behind him.

He paused at the three-point line, looking around for an open teammate. Mark was busy trying to get free from his defender and Jay did the same.

Eric sprinted towards K’s spot with his blocker trailing behind him. Once Eric was practically beside K, they did a quick handoff, leaving Eric with no other option but to dribble toward the net and perform a neat lay-up.

“Nice!” K exclaimed, high-fiving Eric as they both jogged towards the half point of the court. The boys were all beaming with satisfaction as all of their eyes held an intense desire to win.

A few points into the third quarter, Mark asked their coach to sub him out for Heeseung. It was obvious how exhausted he was, but nobody blamed him.

He played amazingly anyway.

The current score read 54-40. Clearly, they were catching up, but Decelis was still far ahead.

“I can’t believe you managed to convince me to come watch,” Kazuha said with her arm interlocked with yours as you guys walked through the bleachers.

“It’ll be fun. Maybe you’ll learn not to hate them as much.” You explained as you both took a seat in front.

“I hate being surrounded by basketball fans. They’re all sweaty and smelly, especially that one.” Kazuha said while pointing at K. You swatted at her hand, forcing her to lower it from the impact as K sent you guys a glare. Kazuha raised her fist and mouthed a curse word at his angry face as you laughed.

Was she really loud or was his hearing just really good?

Your eyes attentively watched Jay who wiped at the sweat that dribbled down his jawline. The gaze he held was the same gaze from the day you two finally spoke after two years. You will never forget that P.E. class.

He was very different than how he was off the court. Off the court, he’s a cold guy who is really clumsy while on the court, he seems unapproachable. It would be like having a death wish if you wanted to talk to him.

“Y/N,” Kazuha started while watching your eyes beam at the sight of Jay playing.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” You asked, chuckling nervously.

“Do you like their team captain? You won’t take your eyes off of him even while talking to me.” Kazuha explained as you turned to look at her.

“Here, I’m looking.” You said as she smirked and pointed at you. “You’re blushing. You do like him!” She exclaimed as your eyes widened. You covered your cheeks with your hands while swatting at her teasing finger.

“Enough!” You whisper-shouted not wanting to attract any more attention to you two, but failed. Jay’s eyes were already on you as a silly smile made its way to his face.

The sight he saw answered all his questions. It was an obvious one, yet he denied it continuously. There was only one reason why you were always on his mind.

He was definitely in love with you.

The next day, the game was all everyone spoke about. The winning shot performed by K and Jay would definitely go down in Decelis's history. Jay threw the ball into the air as K came out of nowhere, dunking it into the hoop, the buzzer going off right after.

Everyone including their opposing team was shocked. No wonder they were part of the ‘star-players lineup’.

Slowly, K and Jay’s friendship began to be restored. Even if they were becoming friends again, the incidents from before weren’t forgotten, and K was very aware of that. It’ll take quite a while to make up for the things he has said and done.

“Wow, they weren’t playing,” Eric joked while eyeing K’s decorated locker.

“Ours must be worse…” Eric mumbled internally filled with excitement. He wondered what his locker looked like.

“They got you too,” K said pointing at Jay’s locker down the hall, “And Jisung.” K chuckled.

Their school must love them a lot to take time out of their day to decorate. It did make sense to do so, they won the whole season.

Eric boasted about a game he played when they got home yesterday. Even after the exhausting match, he still had enough energy to check out his favourite game’s new update.

To Jay, it felt nice to be included in things like this again. There were no more nasty glares being sent his way as he watched from afar. Things were slowly starting to go back to normal.

“Jay, your phone’s ringing,” Eric said, pausing his conversation topic. Jay looked at the boy confused then down at his vibrating pocket.

He removed his phone from his pocket, eyeing the contact name with wide eyes. “I’ll be back,” Jay said before walking away from his friends and picking up the phone.

He stood in front of his locker, leaning against the decorations.

“Hey.” Jay greeted, waiting for a response back. He slowly became anxious at the quietness. Did you

“Hey.” You greeted on the other line, causing Jay’s heart to flutter. He mentally cursed at his heart, hoping the beating would slow, but it didn’t.

“So… I was wondering if that deal was still up?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “I mean, as long as you’re free!” Jay exclaimed. He didn’t want his words to sound forceful.

You smiled at his words, writing down some words in your notebook. “Anything is fine with me. I’m free tomorrow… How about 12 PM?” You asked while clicking your pen shut.

It was a Saturday after all. What plans did Jay really have on a Saturday?

He hummed in agreement, turning around to unlock his locker with a smile. K and Eric grimaced at the sight as K shut his locker closed.

“Who has him smiling like a dork…?” K asked, brows furrowing. He’s never seen their captain like this before.

“I wonder…” Eric muttered, mirroring the exact expression as K.

They both paused, looking over at each other with slightly wide eyes, “Y/N.”

ACT TWELVE.

Jay rocked back and forth on the soles of his feet anxiously. The clock read 11:55 AM, 5 minutes before the two were supposed to meet. He was a punctual person, of course, he wasn’t early on purpose…

“Jay!” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts as his eyes looked in your direction quickly. You were smiling at him.

At him.

“Wow, you look happy.” He teased while making his way towards you. You were smiling from ear to ear because you were finally able to hang out with him, of course, you were happy.

“I received great news.” You cheered, clasping your hands together. He stared at you a slight smile on his own features with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater as he teasingly raised a brow.

“Which is?” He asked.

“I was chosen to be this year’s valedictorian!” You said, your smile growing even more. Jay’s eyes widened in shock.

That was truly great news.

“Really? That’s great, Y/N.” He smiled with that dimple you hated oh so much showing. You hated how it made your face warm and butterflies in your stomach swarm.

But wait… Valedictorian?

“Wait, graduation is in a month, right?” He asked, the thought of this being his final year completely forgotten. You nodded at his question, confused yourself.

“Did you forget?”

“...Yeah.” He mumbled in embarrassment. You laughed at his sheepishness, waving your hand in the air.

“That’s fine. It happens, honestly. Anyway, our play is in a week. Everyone has been practicing like crazy, I don’t think anyone won’t be able to make it, but we can still practice if you want.” You said, playing with the felt of your clothes.

Jay nodded. Anything was fine with him. Although he really wanted to participate in your club’s play previously, due to all the commotion that happened within these two months, he wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.

He was still glad he met you at least.

You two strolled through the garden you suggested as the meeting place. This was a good way to clear your mind and prepare yourselves for the script reading.

The garden was a very pretty sight. You pulled out your phone, positioning your camera in front of any pretty flower you crouched before.

“It’s pretty, right?” You asked, eyeing the pink flower in front of you.

A Hibiscus.

“Yes, it’s very pretty,” Jay replied, crouching behind you, “Just like you.” He whispered, startling you.

Immediately, you turned around, flinching and falling backwards due to how close he was. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back up before you could fall into the field of flowers.

You both stared into each other’s eyes as the wind rustled through the pedals on every flower in the field. You cleared your throat as Jay’s arm unravelled from your waist, but you caught your balance before you could fall over.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized while standing up. You shook your head, trying to shake away the butterflies as well.

“It’s okay.” You muttered, eyes going back to your phone. The photo you took by accident was blurry and was most likely taken when you were falling. You couldn’t recognize anything aside from the vibrant pink blur.

You swiped backwards, satisfied with this photo instead. It showed the flowers, picking up the different shades of pink and the fading droplets of water. Jay looked around in an attempt to distract himself from the encounter from earlier.

It was a mistake, he swore it was, yet part of him wanted it to happen again.

“Do you want to get something to eat? I’m pretty sure there’s a cafe nearby. We can read over the script there.” You suggested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Ah, sure, why not.” He said, giving you an awkward smile. You stood up, dusting off your pants as Jay did the same. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and followed you out of the field of flowers.

The walkout was silent. A little too silent for Jay’s liking.

“To be honest,” he started, gaining your attention. You hummed in response, eyes examining any flowers in your sight.

“You’re as beautiful as an orange flower,” he said, “If you were in a garden, I would definitely choose you first.”

You laughed at his words, thinking they were silly even if they made you flustered.

“I’m serious.”

You paused and turned around to face him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Why an orange flower? What about blue flowers?” You asked, genuinely curious. Was orange his favourite colour or something? If it was… wouldn’t he have dyed his hair orange instead of blue?

“Because,” he began, “It’s scientifically proven that orange is an eye-catching colour. To prove my point, you caught my eye that same day in P.E. class.”

Your eyes slightly widened at his sudden confession, but you then regained your composure. A sly smile made its way onto your features as you looked at Jay with narrowed eyes.

“Are you confessing to me again?” You asked and he nodded. Without hesitation, he nodded.

“You didn’t say anything to the first one…” He explained as you shook your head. It’s not that you didn’t say anything. You just didn’t know how to formulate words at that exact moment. You grabbed his hand, interlocking it with yours and dragged him towards the entrance at a faster pace.

“Let’s make a deal.” You said once you reached the arched entry. “Can you wait an extra month?” You asked as his brows furrowed.

“A month? What for?” He asked, leaving your question unanswered.

“Yes or no?” You asked, this time leaving his question unanswered.

Jay hesitated. He didn’t want to choose the wrong answer. This only reminded him of the time K and Eric dragged him to the club room—the start of everything. Back then, he regretted agreeing with the boys and he worried if that would happen with you. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take a risk, right?

“Yes.” He said as you smiled in return.

“Good.”

ACT THIRTEEN.

The final month of being a senior went by faster than Jay expected. Ever since that day you and Jay hung out, you never brought up your question. He still had no clue what you meant by waiting a month, but he did it anyway.

There were many moments where he uttered the words ‘I love you’ or complimented you numerous times. He didn’t have anything to hide anymore, right? You knew he loved you and he made sure you did almost every single day.

That didn’t mean you said the three words back to him. You never did. Although it bothered him a little bit and caused him to doubt if what he was doing was right, you always managed to make him fall head over heels for you all over again.

Here he was, standing on stage with his coach and principal who presented him with the scholarship he waited his whole life for. He didn’t start playing basketball at the age of 7 for nothing.

As he listened to the principal speak, he was reminded of his freshman days. It felt like he was filling out that scholarship form just yesterday. It was still shocking that this was his last day in Decelis.

“Thank you,” he said while bowing and smiling at his principal as he took the envelope in hand. He then turned to look at his coach who seemed more emotional than ever, leaving Jay baffled.

“Shouldn’t I be the emotional one?” Jay asked while walking off the stage with his coach.

“There’s just something in my eye.” He said.

What a lie. Nobody would believe that one.

Jay scoffed and shook his head as he made his way back to his seat. He was congratulated by a few classmates on his way there, stopping a few times to high-five some of them. There was a bright smile on his face, feeling satisfied that he finally accomplished his dream.

Younghoon gave Jay a proud pat on the back from his seat behind Jay, feeling like a proud dad. It was something he always did when he felt proud of Jay.

“Now, please welcome this year’s valedictorian, L/N Y/N.” The school’s principal announced through the mic as you rose from your seat, making your way to the stage.

As you walked past Jay’s seat, you glanced over at him flashing him a smile as he did the same.

You adjusted the mic, levelling it to your desire, and turning it on in the process. You flipped through the script on the podium, finding your speech that you’ve practiced a ton of times.

“Good evening, staff, my fellow seniors, and most importantly, family members.” You began, gripping the sides of the podium as a smile made its way to your face.

“I’m L/N Y/N, your valedictorian for this ceremony. First, I want to start by congratulating this year’s graduating class. Time flew by faster than we all expected, right? To me, it still feels like I was preparing for my first day as a freshman in Decelis just yesterday, worrying about what I should wear even if this is a uniform school.” You joked, making a few students hum in agreement and laugh at your words as Jay watched with an adoring smile.

“I know how much it may hurt to say goodbye to those you adored, but take this as an opportunity to branch out and explore new things. I had an amazing time with this school’s Drama Club and enjoyed being the leader. It taught me a lot more than I intended to learn.” You said, gaze shifting to Jay.

“It taught me how fun taking risks and stepping out of your comfort zone can be. How fun exploring the personalities of others can be even while going against the established yet unconfirmed rule that says you must hate each other.”

It was obvious that you were referring to the Drama club and Basketball team rivalry and the unsaid person was obviously Jay. Who else broke that unconfirmed rule with you?

“The events that occurred this year really brought me an enjoyable and exciting final year of high school, so I’m very grateful for it.” You finished off your speech with a closing sentence that thanked everyone for coming and wished all the graduating students the best of luck for their future.

Soon after your speech, all students received their diplomas and medals, meaning they were no longer high school students.

You and Jay were no longer the leaders of the Drama club and Basketball team or classmates from P.E. class.

“You were great.” Jay complimented you after finding you in the school’s courtyard. You turned around, smiling at his words.

“Congrats on the scholarship!” You cheered, a smile appearing on his face. Before he could reply, you were already dragging him by the hand through the crowds of people, and running towards the steps you guys last argued on.

“What are we doing here?” He asked, looking around, noticing how nobody was there. They were all taking pictures to reminisce about the moment a few years later.

“So—”

He was silenced by the sudden kiss planted on his cheek, causing him to look at you faster than ever. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was slightly agape at the sudden movement. You looked into his wide eyes with your curious ones.

“What was that about?” He asked in utter shock.

“I love you,” you confessed, his wide eyes becoming even wider. He blinked continuously, thinking this was all a dream.

“What?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“Am I going crazy, or did you really say I love you?” He asked as your eyes widened.

“You must be going crazy. I said no such thing.” You lied, putting on your best poker face. Your hand removed his cap, feeling his forehead temperature to complete the act.

“Your temperature is fine though… Did you not sleep enough?” You asked, concerned. You loved being able to pull these types of tricks on him. His reactions were always cute to you.

“I’m kidding, I did.” You said, smiling. You couldn’t keep up the lie anymore, especially with this way his brows furrowed in disappointment.

“It has been a month. I waited it out until today. I didn’t want to interrupt our studies if we ever started anything, you know,” you said while letting go of his hand, “And it would’ve been a mistake if I didn’t confess the same place you first did.” You said while looking around the area you stood in.

It really was your last time walking down these steps.

Out of nowhere, your face was cupped by slightly rough hands that brought warmth to your cheek, turning your head to face Jay’s direction. You had no time to register anything, his soft lips on yours.

Although you weren’t prepared, you still sunk into the kiss, but Jay pulled away before anything could escalate. His hands still cupped your face as you both looked into each other’s eyes, ‘sneaking’ small glances at each other’s lips.

“I love you too.” He said, his words filled with genuine adoration.

“Cool,” you muttered in disappointment. It was too short for your liking. Jay was shocked, wondering why you didn’t say it back. He waited so long just for you to say it once?

“I love you too, okay? Stop overthinking it.” You said, playfully rolling your eyes. His facial expression made it quite obvious as to what he was thinking.

“Now, come here.” You said, pulling him into another kiss while dropping his cap on the concrete ground beside him. Luckily, this one lasted much longer than before.

Even if he didn’t participate in anything related to the Drama club, he still got himself involved with one of their members, right?

That should at least count.

Ξ © HAKNOM, 2024

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incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (3)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: she gets involved in a murder case she least expected as a familiar face greets her. wc: 3,7k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder

A/n: this part is kind of slow but it’s very important for the plot

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Y/N WAS GOING TO QUIT. She was sure of it. Her mind was constantly trying to plan how she would execute the idea without making a scene because she considered slamming her resignation letter on Jamison's desk, dramatically claiming him as a disgusting, chauvinistic bitter old man who only got laid because his wife took pity on him.

She was walking back to her desk after bearing another one of his, "I don't think you can do the job, L/n. Let the men go out to the field and cover the story."

She was also a journalist, for god's sake. And a good one at that. What made that old man think she wasn't as capable as any other male peers around her? Was she too much of a woman to go out on the field and cover stories that were judged as too dangerous for her?

She let out a scoff. The Jamison Lynch worried about her safety? That sounded even more absurd.

"He did it again, didn't he?" Y/n found Sandy, the closest friend she had in this male-dominated agency, peering over her cubicle. She was from the finance department and would often come to entertain her whenever she needed an ear to cry out her frustration. "What is it this time?"

She cleared her throat and made an attempt of lowering her voice into a deeper pitch. "L/n, I don't think you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out there. Let the men do the job."

Sandy laughed. "That's actually a good impression. What work was he talking about?"

"Kevin Marshall's case." Y/n sat back in her chair and frowned. "The ironic thing is, I was the one who found out about this case. I told him about doing a story of it before he snitched this opportunity and gave it to Eric."

"So Eric's covering the story now?"

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "They're still talking about it in his office."

Sandy blew a low whistle. "That sucks."

She felt beyond frustrated. It seemed so unfair how she always got the bad end of the stick just because she wasn't born with a penis. She told Sandy exactly that which she cackled in return.

"On a serious note," Sandy muttered after her fits of laughter died down and leaned closer. "What happened to Mr. Marshall was terrible."

"You didn't hear this from me, but the police found him stabbed to death and..." she looked around their surroundings, motioning her friend to inch closer. "...there was some writing carved on his body."

Sandy's eyes went wide. "No way."

She nodded. "A friend of a friend of a friend of mine heard it from the forensic team."

"What were the words?"

"Well, if I were to be the one assigned to this case, we would've found out." She shook her head and let out another frustrated cry. "I'm going to quit this job."

"You said that last month," Sandy reminded her. "And the month before that, also, the month before that. Oh, did I mention you also said that several months ago—"

She held out her hand. "Alright, I got it." She glanced over the closed door at the end of the hallway, her mind drifting towards the two men discussing her supposedly case behind it. "I really mean it this time."

"Sure," Sandy absentmindedly agreed. "Wait, didn't you know Mr. Marshall?"

"Not really. I only met him once for work." She winced as her thought traveled to the time she encountered the man who was brutally murdered two days ago. "Let's just say he wasn’t exactly the greatest person to interview."

"No kidding."

She dismissed the topic by waving her hand. "It happened a long time ago, let's not bring that up. I'd feel terrible bad-mouthing him after what happened." She then let out a sigh. "It would be quite a story to cover though."

"Yeah, well, screw Jamison for taking it away for you." Sandy's eyes suddenly gleamed as they narrowed towards the automatic door at the corner of the room. "At least your boyfriend is here."

Y/n spotted the young man walking their way and laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"I don't think he got the memo," Sandy whispered before straightening herself, giving the man a huge grin as he stopped at her desk. "Hey, Oliver."

"Hi, Sandy." He greeted slowly. "How are you?"

"Better now that I've seen your pretty face."

Oliver Walsh was indeed an absolutely stunning man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a very defined face. He was a little mysterious and reserved, but underneath that veneer was someone who was kind and caring.

He might not be the most outgoing person, but he had a genuine sweetness that made him attractive and likable. He also happened to have the hugest crush on Y/n the moment he first stepped foot inside this building.

Oliver gave Sandy a smile. "You look beautiful yourself."

Sandy rolled her eyes playfully. "We know I'm not the one you should be sweeping off her feet." She then gave Y/n a pointed look. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What? You're going home already?"

"Got a hot date tonight!" Sandy overly shared before sauntering out of their sight. Y/n shook her head at her friend's antics before glancing up to see Oliver staring at her with the same look he had been giving her ever since the moment he had introduced himself.

His clear affection didn't go unnoticed. It somehow managed to be a public assumption that he was head over heels for her, something that was often discussed between their peers. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his feelings because she understood how difficult it was to be on the other side of unrequited love, she merely saw him as a guy she often worked with.

"Can I help you, Oliver?" She asked, already weary of the grin plastered on his face.

"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Her face fell at his words. "How I'm doing?"

"I heard Jamison snatched a very important job from you."

"Wow," she gasped, not understanding how he knew this information already. But then again, people had the tendency to share things they overheard. "News really does travel fast around here."

"There's no such thing as secrets in this place. But seriously, how are you holding up?"

She simply shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Angry? Frustrated? Like I want to strangle Jamison myself?"

"Y/n, there's no such thing as a bad bone in your body."

"What? You don't think I'm capable of hurting him?"

"Nope. You're the sweetest person I know."

She snorted. "That's because you keep seeing me through rose-tinted glass."

"Maybe." Oliver crossed his arms and leaned his hips over her desk. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. He raised his brows. "Really? You can't think of anything?" She shook her head again. "Perhaps something to appease your frustration? Chocolate? You do love chocolate."

"I do, but I don't think anything sweet can even calm me down."

"Then how about a drink? Coffee? Beer? You and me? Together? Tonight?"

She let out a disbelief laugh as she stood up, making an attempt to gather her things. "Don't be so sly, Oliver."

He merely gave her a bashful smile. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"It's never going to work between us." She paused dramatically. "Do you want to know why?"

He slowly nodded, eying her with earnest interest.

"Because you see, Oliver," she drawled as she closed the distance between them. She peered up at him through her lashes and threw him a grin. "I never mix business with pleasure."

She gave him a playful wink before turning around, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless as he stood there where she had left him. He let out an amused laugh before calling out, "I'm going to make you change your mind!”

She lifted her hand and waved at him without looking back. "Goodnight, Walsh."

His laughter was the last thing she heard before she turned around the corner, heading towards the parking area.

Turning him down was the right thing to do. She was not in the right place to be emotionally involved with other people right now. After going through so many heartbreaks and disappointments in the past, she couldn't take any more of the dating scene. It was just a bunch of awkward interactions and unmet expectations while feeling worn down by the whole process. She couldn't even remember the last time she was involved with a man.

A sudden mock laughter rang at the back of her head. You were involved with a complete stranger two nights ago!

Romantically, she corrected. She couldn't remember the last time she was involved with a man romantically.

Oh, great. Now she was fighting with herself upon what had happened that night. That... overwhelming and embarrassing night which she did not want to speak of. Overwhelming because of how much she wanted to see him again, embarrassing because she knew he did not feel the same.

She groaned as her mind somehow drifted to memory, her mind reminiscing that intoxicating feeling of his tongue inside her mouth for the first time. Or that moment before he settled above her, sinking between her legs as the tip of his hard, throbbing length squeezed into her warm entrance—

No! Don't even go there!

She stopped her pace and stood by the entryway of the parking lot, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She needed a moment to breathe. Between her frustration toward her boss, the constant interest from her fellow colleague, and the rush of sexual heat at that core memory, her head was starting to spin.

It wasn't until a sudden weight shoved her from the back that she woke from her trance. She jolted forward from the impact before her bag fell onto the ground, the remnants of her things spilling out, and scattered along her feet. "What the hell?"

She looked up to see the back side of a man moving forward in a hurry, not even sparing her a glance.

"Hey!" She shouted, clearly annoyed by the fact an unidentified man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face didn't have the decency to apologize. When he turned around the corner and escaped her line of vision, she realized she wasn't going to get the apology she desired.

She picked up her belongings while muttering curses under her breath. Her phone which lay a few inches away from her feet suddenly vibrated, the loud sound of an incoming call echoing throughout the open space of the lot. She peered over towards the screen and groaned.

She shoved the phone inside her bag and went on her way as she spotted her car. "Now's not the time, Jamison," she mumbled to herself, already irritated by how the night had turned out.

Her phone went silent again. It wasn't until she was a few feet away from her car that it began its chime a second time. The sound felt heavy in her ears and she finally got to her car, leaned against it, and reluctantly dug into her bag to retrieve the device.

She clutched onto it with disdain because Jamison was known to be persistent while also being inconsiderate and thoughtless. If she ignored him he would find another way to get under her skin. She slumped against the cool material of her car and slowly took a deep, aggravating breath before receiving the call. "Yes, Jamison—"

There was heavy breathing at the end of the line. A static sound greeted her before a loud crash echoed in the background. She looked over her phone screen before pressing it back against her ear. "Jamison?"

"...help..."

His croaked voice shot shivers down her spine. She straightened herself as panic washed over her body. Her boss was known for being very loud as he loved being the center of attention. But his voice sounded so quiet now. It didn't have that hint of self-centered confidence he liked to portray. It even sounded as if he were... in pain?

"Jamison?" She gulped and without thinking of her actions, her feet somehow moved on their own, navigating her back to where she had left. "Jamison, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"

"...Y/n..." Crash. Cough. Gasp. "...help—"

The line went dead.

Y/n wasn't exactly a fit person. Her only form of physical activity would be the number of stairs she climbed up and down in her apartment building. But her feet were moving very fast on its own right now. She didn't care how running in a pair of flats wasn't the best idea, the mortification of something awful happening to someone asking for her assistance was gnawing into her consciousness.

The moment she was on her office floor, she took notice of how nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The place was exactly how she had left minus all the people hanging by their respective desks. Because it was very, very quiet and the silence felt oddly eerie to her. Half of the lights were off and her steps halted for a moment as she entered her cubicle space, suddenly self-aware of the possibility of how something dangerous might occur.

Then she heard a scream. A deep, dreadful scream followed by a train of curses came from what she assumed was Jamison's office. Her feet moved again and her frightened demeanor was replaced by concern as she increased her pace, turning to the hallway towards his office.

Her movement faltered when she realized she wasn't alone. A very frightened-looking Eric Adler stood by Jamison's door before he turned around at the sound of her footsteps.

"Eric?"

His voice was etched with panic and horror as he rushed forward and held her by the arms. "No, Y/n."

"...what?" Her eyes shot behind him, noticing Jamison's door jarred open. She tried to escape his grip. "You don't understand. He called me—"

"No. Please. You don't want to see him in there—"

"Let go of me! He called—"

"Y/n." His grip tightened. "He's—he's... gone."

She looked up to see her coworker, the same man who simply stood in silence this evening as he took the job she had wanted. The confused look in his eyes from the sudden responsibility he had to take on that particular moment was now replaced by terror; a look of sheer horror, one which conveyed utter fear and panic. It was a look of complete devastation and utter helplessness, a look that made his soul seem to have been just sucked out of his body. It was the kind of look that conveyed the deepest despair one could possibly feel.

He's gone.

Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean disappearance. It could mean an emotional state of feeling disconnected from the world. But this gone... she understood what it meant. She understood the weight of the word the moment her eyes spotted the surge of blood coming from Jamison's office.

There was so much blood that she should've felt disgusted by the amount of it, but her mind was too busy trying to convince herself that it was real. It wasn't until her eyes spotted a hand sprawled lifelessly across the floor that her stomach started to churn. The stone rings circling around the fingers were the exact rings she often saw on her boss.

The realization on her face had Eric pulling her away. But before he could drag her, she saw a glimpse of the lifeless body, and what she caught had her completely stunned. More than feeling mortified by the scene, a sense of bewilderment settled in. The disbelief of such a coincidence happening etched her mind as she peered over the body one last time.

Because something was carved along his arm.

There was a lot of waiting. Feeling impatient was one of the most frustrating things to ever exist, it made her feel anxious and restless about the lack of progress after Eric had called the authorities. He had guided her to the front area of the receptionist, given her a blanket he had found somewhere in the office—which she wasn't sure who it even belonged to—and given her a cup of warm tea as he made some calls.

She sat there, watching her coworker pace back and forth along the marble floor. She could tell Eric's mind was secretly all over the place with his disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep his calm.

He was steady, still a little fazed with the whole ordeal, but managed to keep checking up on her every five minutes. He even had the time to apologize for taking her job before she merely shook it off. It wasn't his decision to snatch away the opportunity. Though it felt inappropriate to point fingers at the person who actually did decide on the matter when he was lying in the other room covered in his own blood.

She shuddered again. There were so many questions running through her mind. What kind of person would do a terrible, gruesome thing to another human being? It was always the same question she had whenever she encountered such devastating news. She once read in an article that there were roughly 300,000 people who were killed by murder each year worldwide, and to think that one of them happened to somebody she knew felt so surreal.

The authorities finally came an hour later followed by a group of people wearing protective suits. The waiting for their arrival was very long, but everything happened so fast the moment they introduced themselves. A detective in an oversized suit talked to her and Eric separately, asking what happened prior to finding the body.

She suddenly felt nauseous as she recalled Jamison's phone call, how pained and desperate his voice sounded. It wasn't until she heard herself say it out loud that she realized the possibility of the killer being in the same room on that phone call. Or even in the same room as her as she entered the vicinity of their office.

"Ms. L/n?" Y/n looked up to see the detective watching her with worry. "Are you alright?"

No, she wasn't. But she merely nodded and gave him a smile. "I will be."

He returned the smile with a genuine one of his own and glanced at his watch. "You should get some sleep, Ms. L/n. If you have any more information please don't hesitate to contact us."

Then he left her standing there alone, watching people bustling around her with different equipment. She could hear the faint sound of the ambulance from the distance, smell the intoxicating scent of chemicals coming from the medics, and sense her fatigue creeping along her body as her eyes noted the time showed on the massive clock plastered on the wall.

"Ms. L/n?"

Y/n turned to see a man standing close, his dark eyes watching her cautiously. There was a sense of confidence in his posture that she couldn't help but notice. "Yes?"

"Mr. Adler told me where to find you." She frowned at the mention of Eric before her confusion deepened at the badge presented in front of her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI."

"FBI?"

"Yes," he confirmed, shoving his badge back into his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding this past event."

She crossed her arms. "I don't think my boss being brutally killed should be called an event." She steadied her gaze on him. "And I've already talked to the detective."

"My apologies, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Although I would appreciate it if you can spare a few minutes of your time."

She observed him, watching him hesitantly before letting out a heavy sigh. "I guess so."

"Is there anywhere private we can talk?"

His attempt at keeping their conversation confidential from all the people swarming by had her quirking an eyebrow. She nodded and guided him toward the closest space that could provide them some privacy. "Sure... We can use the conference room down here."

"Thank you. My partner will also be present with us if you don't mind."

She looked him up and down. "There's two of you?"

"There's two of us," Agent Morgan confirmed, slightly smiling at the condescending tone of her voice. "Dr. Reid will shortly join us."

The silence after that statement was very, very palpable. The sudden stillness was one that typically left her feeling completely baffled, a state of total shock and disbelief over a familiar name unexpectedly mentioned. The uncertainty of her ability to hear left her frozen in her tracks, waiting for her brain to catch up with the sudden information. "Doctor... Reid?"

"Dr. Spencer Reid. He was talking to Mr. Adler a while ago—wait, there he is." Agent Morgan's voice grew louder as his eyes focused on the man behind them. "Reid! Over here!"

He surely couldn't be...?

She shook her head. The world wasn't that small, was it? Even though she was very bad at remembering names, how could she forget the exact same one she wrongly called as a result of her pettiness? And besides, there must be a lot of people possessing the same name, surely it was a different person.

Though the deafening lack of sound was jarring as if every other sound had been sucked out of the room. It almost felt like everything was frozen in time as her eyes settled on the man standing a few feet away from her. Because there he was, the same man who awkwardly flirted with her two days ago.

The same man who grabbed her by the waist the moment she looked up at him with need. The same man who leaned in closer, the tension charged with anticipation and desire before it lead to an explosion of passion that couldn't be quelled.

But the desperate longing in his eyes from that night was changed into mortification, and when she thought her night couldn’t go more terrible than it already was, it had gotten even worse.

>> NEXT PART

1K notes · View notes

chloe-skywalker · 9 months

Text

A Safe Feeling - Eric Coulter

Eric x fem!reader

Warnings:

Word count: 1,402

Requested: Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Jeannie Matthew and she divergent and she in a relationship with eric and her best froend is four and later tris please and thank you - @rachelcarroll1819

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!

Masterlist

Divergent Masterlist

******************************************************************

“Mathews!” Eric called out with a smirk as he saw Y/n exit the hallway near the dining hall.

“You know I have a first name.” Y/n turned around crossing her arms over her chest. Eric knew she hated her mom’s views and being called by her old last name. She’s not Erudite anymore.

Eric gave a nod as he walked over to her, standing in front of her. “Yeah, but that’s for more intimate-”

“Shut up.” Y/n giggled and slapped him on the bicep as Eric chuckled, moving his hands to her hips.

“Where are you off to?” Eric asked as Y/n moved her arms to wrap around his neck. Normally Eric didn’t like showing PDA, unless it was to show she was taken.

“Need to talk to Four about some stuff.” She answered, tilting her head. It wasn’t easy to have Four as a best friend and date Eric. But the two agreed to be sival for her sake.

“Divergent stuff?” Eric spoke quietly, so no one would hear around him. When she had first told him about being Divergent, Eric didn’t take it well at first but then he realized he didn’t care. He loves her anyway.

“Will you keep it down. You know it could get me killed.” Even though he was quite Y/n still was scared at any possibility of anyone knowing. Being Divergent is a death sentence.

Eric nodded as a sigh of apology, moving his right hand up and down her back to comfort her growing nerves. “Is it about the nightmares?”

Y/n nodded with a grimace. “They have to do with my fears and with what I am, he's the best to talk to about it. And he’s my friend.”

Eric rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek at his sight irritation. “Don’t remind me.”

“You're lucky I know what part of that you're referring to.” Y/n smirked, poking him in the chest.

“Oh, what part?” Eric played along, hoping to stall her a little longer.

“The Four part. He’s my best friend, has been since initiation and it bothers you like no other.” Y/n smirked a little, but in her defense she tried to hide it.

Eric shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”

Y/n let out an amused soft laugh. “I’ve noticed.”

“You know I love you and I don’t care about the Divergent past, right?” He wanted to make sure she knew, he always made sure. Yeah he got annoyed that she’s friends with Four but her being Divergent? That doesn’t bother him.

y/n smiled. “I know. You always reassure me of that.”

Eric nodded. “And I’ll continue to.”

Y/n moved to leave his embrace, really needing to go see Four. “Love you.”

Eric pulled her into a rough kiss before letting go of her waist and back. “Love ya too.”

“I’ll see you later.” Y/n smiled at him turning around and heading off to figure her nightmare, fear problem out.

^ ^ ^

After about an hour Four and Y/n sat down, joined by Tris.

“The only thing I can think of is that your fears are changing.” Four stated leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“But how can I have less fears then when we first came here? How can they change?” Y/n wondered out loud confused. Shouldn’t she have more over time not less?

“I don’t know, Y/n.” Four wished he could give her an explanation, but he had nothing.

“Maybe its Eric.” Tris said, jumping into the conversation.

“Huh?” Y/n turned to her younger friend with confusion and curiosity. Four looked to Tris with a furrowed expression.

“Well he’s protective of you. He’d kill for you, so what if the feeling of protection he gives you is making some of your fears go away.” Tris explained what she meant.

“She has a good point.” Four looked at Y/n.

“Well that’s a development.” Y/n let out an amused puff of air.

“Bad?” Tris tilted her head, looking at her friend trying to see how she was feeling about this new ‘development’ as she called it.

“No.” Y/n shook her head.

“He’s been worried. You should tell him.” Four stated. He may not get along with Eric but he could tell how worried he’s been over Y/n’s situation. Eric could hide it well but Four could still see it.

“Yeah.” Y/n spoke, grabbing her jacket before standing up and heading towards the door. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that. See ya both tomorrow.”

Once Y/n left Four and Tris she headed to the training room, knowing that Eric was training the intaties today. It wasn’t hard to find him once entering the big room. He stood out.

“Hey handsome.” Y/n said as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Hey sexy.” He smirked, and as he expected her reaction was to slap him on his arm. It caused him to chuckle.

“Stop it.” Y/n laughed at his behavior. Always so different with her then around anyone else. “Can we talk?”\

“Yeah,” Eric was trying not to be worried. He turned his focus back to the intimates. “Intaites! We’re done for the day. Get out.”

After that they both headed to their shared apartment. They’d been sharing a living space since a little after they finished initiation. Once inside Eric shut the door behind them for privacy.

“So did you and Four figure out what's going on?” he asked and Y/n could see some concern in his eyes.

y/n nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah, about that.”

“What?” He asked gruffly.

Y/n went over and sat on their couch, Eric followed suit. “My nightmares have been odd. Like you knew and we found a few things out.” Y/n took a deep breath before continuing, looking him in the eyes. “I have less fears now. That’s why I keep reliving some of them. My nightmares seem to be the fears I still have.”

“How's this happening? Is it a Divergent thing?” Eric didn’t know much about Divergent. No one really did know anything about Divergents since they were killed on spot after being found out.

“No it’s not a Divergent thing.” She laughed lightly. Y/n leaned in and pulled him into a kiss. When she pulled away she told him. “Its a you thing.”

“Me?” Eric raised his brows in disbelief.

“Yup. You.” Y/n nodded in confirmation of his question.

“Can you explain?” he asked, still very confused. How is he the cause?

“Trus has this theory and Four and I agree with it.” Y/n scooted closer, grabbing his hands in hers. Smiling shyly up at him. “We think I’m having less face because you make me feel safe.”

“That's the goal.” Eric smirked proudly. That was the goal, to protect her. Make her feel safe. And he was relieved that nothing serious was wrong with her. “So many fears have you lost exactly?”

Y/n laughed in amusement towards his reaction. “Cocky much?”

Eric pulled her by the hips to straddle his lap. “Hey, if I’m responsible…”

He two was amused, but this was because of different reasons.

“Thank you.” Y/n thanked her tattooed brute. With the look of confusion back in his eyes, she continued. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Not exactly. You couldn’t. But thanks anyway and for protecting me and making me feel safe in general.”

Eric placed a hand on the back of her head and stared directly in her eyes. “You're mine. No one will harm you on my watch.”

Y/n smiled brightly at his declaration. “Don’t tell my mom.”

Eric scoffed. “I don’t tell your mom shit.”

“That's one of the reasons I love you.” Y/n smirked, leaning her forehead against his.

Eric grabbed her, pulling her closer, holding her tighter in his grip as he kissed the column of her neck. “What are the other reasons?”

Y/n let out a moan as he continued to kiss and suck on her neck. “Well if we head over to the bedroom I could-”

“Done” Eric said, effictley cutting her off. He stood up and carried her to their bedroom. All the while Y/n laughed at his actions and looked forward to the night's activities.

Taglist: @padawancat97

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fadingdaggerr · 26 days

Note

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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mellowsadistic · 1 month

Text

Couples Therapy - Part 1

After Angela cheats on her husband, she agrees to go to couples therapy with him, but each session with the therapist leaves her feeling less and less like a grown-up.

***

Angela tapped her foot impatiently while her husband spoke with the therapist privately, probably whining about how angry and betrayed he felt. They were both supposed to go in together in a moment, but for now she was stuck waiting in reception.

Really, she couldn’t understand why Eric was being so dramatic. It was only sex! It wasn’t as though she didn’t love him anymore. She just needed to have a little fun sometimes, that was all. They weren’t even thirty yet! He was twenty-eight and she was twenty-seven. Did he really expect her to settle down and stick to a single sexual partner when she was still so young?

But he’d insisted on seeing a marriage counsellor and she’d eventually agreed, albeit reluctantly. Their therapist was a man. How was he supposed to understand what it was like for a woman in her situation? And her first impressions of the office hadn’t been great either. The receptionist was a total bimbo!

Angela glanced over at her. She was dressed up like some bizarre fetish fantasy. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a pair of high pigtails, and her stripper-sized tits were crammed into a sparkly Disney princess top. Didn’t this place have a uniform? She looked like an overgrown six-year-old for goodness sake! And she’d been acting like one too when she’d tried to match their names to their booking. Her husband had been very patient with her stupid lisping voice and barely passable ability to read, but Angela had wanted to turn around and leave straight away. What kind of serious therapist’s office employed a woman like that?

At last the door opened, and the therapist stood in the doorway. He smiled kindly and gestured her to come inside.

“He’s weady for you now!” the bimbo receptionist chirped happily, looking up from what looked like a fashion magazine for tweens.

Angela rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

She went into the office and the therapist closed the door behind her. Eric was lounged on a sofa facing a hard-backed wooden chair, looking perfectly relaxed. Angela sat down next to her husband, leaving a few inches of space in between them.

The therapist didn’t take a seat in the wooden chair, however. He took a tablet from his desk in the corner and stood in front of Angela.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her. She looked down at the screen in her lap in confusion. What was this for? Some sort of presentation?

“I find that girls always get a bit nervous in my office,” he said, talking to her in a light, overly friendly tone, as if he was talking to a nursery-schooler. “This will help you relax, okay sweetie?”

Angela scowled. She was about to launch into a furious tirade. She couldn’t stand being talked down to! Who the hell did this man think he was? If he assumed most women were like his ditzy receptionist then he had another thing coming. But before she could say a word, the tablet in her lap came to life. Brilliant pastel colours swirled and spiralled on the screen, sinking into a single spot in the centre, and her complaints died in her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was just so pretty…

“There we go,” said the therapist in that same sweet tone. “That always takes care of fussy little girls.”

“Is there anything I have to do?” Eric asked.

Angela felt strange. She was vaguely aware of the men’s words, but it was as though they were coming to her from the end of a very long tunnel. Her attention was focused on the dazzling lights on the screen.

“Not a thing. Let me do all the talking. Did you hear that, Angela? We’re going to have a little talk, okay sweetie? Nothing to be nervous about. I’m a trained professional, after all. We need to have a little talk about how you betrayed your husband. About how he found out you were cheating on him. Because that wasn’t very clever of you, was it Angela? Getting caught.”

Angela shook her head, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Not clever,” she echoed. It was true. She shouldn’t have been caught. She should have been more careful not to let him find out. Because even though there was nothing wrong with what she’d done, even though she was completely in the right, Eric wouldn’t understand.

“That’s right, Angela,” said the therapist. “You’ve been a very dumb bitch, haven’t you?”

Angela frowned. That didn’t sound right. Dumb bitch. Was it okay for the therapist to call her that?

“Look at the pretty sparkles, sweetie,” he encouraged, and Angela sank back into the swirling lights. “That’s right. You’re just a dumb bitch, Angela. All women are, but you especially. That’s okay though. You don’t know any better – you’re just girls.”

Angela knew vaguely that there was something she didn’t like about what the man was saying, but she was too engrossed in the swirling colours to care. His words were like background noise. She could understand them if she concentrated, but it was so hard to focus with the wonderful patterns in front of her.

“Yes, you’re just a girl, Angela. Just a silly little girl. A big child. It doesn’t matter if you do something wrong, because you can’t be held accountable for your actions, can you? You’re sweet and innocent.”

Angela nodded eagerly, a dim smile spreading across her face. She hadn’t done anything wrong. If she wasn’t so distracted by her tablet, she’d have smirked at Eric. His stupid attempt to guilt-trip her with marriage counselling was backfiring on him. The therapist was on her side.

“Besides,” the therapist continued. “You didn’t cheat on your husband anyway, did you Angela?”

Angela was confused. She had cheated on Eric. Was the therapist going to help her cover it up? But Eric already knew, didn’t he? Surely that wouldn’t work! The lights on the screen grew brighter. They were so, so pretty…

“You didn’t,” the therapist said again. “In fact, it’s completely impossible for you to have cheated on your husband. You know why, I’m sure. It’s because of your embarrassing bedwetting habit.”

Angela wrinkled her nose and started trying to shake her head in disgust. She didn’t wet the bed! The therapist must be confused. He must be mixing her up with some little girl. Maybe one of his other clients was some silly little bedwetter who needed to be reassured that everyone had accidents now and again, but that certainly wasn’t her.

“Don’t… I don’t wet the bed…” she mumbled. Her words felt heavy in her mouth. It was hard to think. She just wanted to watch the pretty swirling lights.

“Look at the colours, sweetie,” the therapist told her. “That’s a good girl. You are a bedwetter, Angela. You wet the bed every night. You have done for quite a few weeks now. And what man would want to sleep with a woman who still pisses herself in her sleep like a dumb toddler? You’re very lucky your husband puts up with your babyish behaviour, young lady.”

Angela’s face slackened as the spirals spun faster and faster. Lucky. She was a lucky girl. She was lucky to have a husband who put up with her bedwetting. Another man might leave his wife if she started peeing herself every night. Especially if she’d cheated on him too. But Eric didn’t know about that. Did he? It was strange. For a while Angela had been sure he did. And the therapist didn’t seem to know either. In fact, he thought it was impossible for a bedwetter like her to cheat on her husband! She blushed even more brightly. How had she done it? Angela frowned slightly. She didn’t know. She couldn’t remember clearly. But the therapist was right – who’d want to have sex with some stupid, bedwetting baby-woman? Why would anyone sleep with her when it meant waking up in piss-soaked sheets, or next to someone in a sopping wet diaper. Her special protection. Her baby pants. Was the therapist still talking? She tried to pay attention.

“…because your husband puts up with you in other ways too, doesn’t he?” he was saying. “It’s not just the bedwetting. You actually have quite a few silly, childish behaviours that no adult woman should reasonably be expected to have. You��”

Angela tuned out again. She could feel his words entering her ears, but her attention was focused entirely on the lights in her lap. So pretty. Such pretty lights…

When she came to, the tablet was gone, Eric was standing up and putting his coat on, and the therapist was looking at her with a satisfied expression on his face. Had she fallen asleep?

“Ready to go home?” Eric asked her brightly.

Angela smiled back, a little hesitantly. She’d thought she was in trouble, but maybe she’d just been confused. She was such a silly girl sometimes. Such a dumb bitch.

Eric held out his hand, and she took it. It felt nice to be holding onto him. It felt reassuring. He held her hand all the way back to their house, and while he walked, she couldn’t help herself from skipping along beside him.

#mellowsadistic

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daisyvisions · 7 months

Text

✦ Day 21 - Food Play

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: neighbor!Eric x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.7K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), food play (using syrup), fingering, lots of nipple play here, mutual pining, strength kink (if you squint), pet name (sweetheart), kinda fluff but like smutty fluff lol, sexual innuendo mentioned

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My brain was in rest mode it was so hard to think of how this would go until the idea finally struck when I was supposed to go to sleep 🙃 Hope you enjoy this one! Actually proofread.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

It had almost been a week since Eric had moved into the apartment across from yours.

After you came back from your morning walk to the nearest coffee shop, you bumped into your landlord, stopping for a moment to have a small chat with them.

"Oh! By the way, there's a new guy moving in across from you."

"Is he a cranky middle-aged man again?" You joke.

"No, not at all. I think he's around your age actually! You might actually get along with this one." She winks, but you don't understand what she was implying.

"Cool, I'll be sure to give him the usual first-day greeting!"

As soon as you reached your floor, you spotted a number of moving boxes outside. You quickly reminisced about the first time you moved into your apartment. How stressful it was bringing in all the boxes and unpacking each one. So you decided to bake something for your new neighbor as a form of sustenance and get your chance to say hello.

You rang the doorbell, balancing on the heels of your feet as you held a box of lemon bars in one hand.

While waiting for him to respond, you wondered what he might be like. Did he keep to himself? Was he a nosy neighbor? Was he the type to blast music and keep you up at night? Did he bring any people ho-

The door suddenly swings open, and you're greeted with an image you weren't expecting at all. Beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, hair slightly damp, a towel hanging from his shoulder, and... Oh no. He's shirtless.

"Uh, can I help you?" He looks at you with curiosity. You almost don't hear him the first time as your eyes quickly scan his toned chest.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt!" You try to play it cool. "I live right across from you, wanted to drop by to say hello." You smile at him. He looks up and down at you for a moment, licking his lips before smiling back at you. She's cute.

"I'm Eric." He extends his hand to you. You try to compose yourself, feeling the rough and firm grip of his handshake. You say your name in return.

"I, baked you something. Thought you needed some energy from all the moving in."

"Oh, right, um, thank you." He shyly replies, trying not to make a fool out of himself.

There's an awkward pause between you, the music coming from the other side of his door faintly playing in the background.

"Well... if you need anything, you know where to find me. Nice meeting you again, Eric!"

"Oh, I definitely will. See you around, neighbor." He winks at you before taking the box of baked goods from your hand.

Before you start blushing in front of him, you turn around and walk straight into your apartment. You lean your back against the door as soon as you close it. Your heart racing just from that tiny interaction with your new hot neighbor. You suddenly shake off the incoming butterflies in your stomach.

Before you even set foot in the living room, you hear a knock at your door. When you walk back to open it, you catch Eric mid-way through knocking on your door again.

"Sorry, I know you just got in, but I just have to say your lemon bars were really good." He exaggerates, spotting a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm glad you liked them! I could make more for you if you want?" You ask.

"Actually... I was thinking maybe you could teach me how. Kinda suck at cooking, to be honest. Between you and me..." Eric motions his finger for you to come closer.

"Might've been the reason why I got kicked out of my old apartment." He chuckles.

"Well, lucky for you, I love to cook. So I'll make sure you won't burn our floor to the ground." You joke back.

"Perfect, are you free this weekend?" He asks.

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do." You smile.

"Great, I'll see you then."

"And where do I pour this again?"

"Just in the mixer, Eric." You chuckle at the man next to you.

"You got it!" He points at you with finger guns as he grabs the vanilla extract. You both smile at each other, enjoying each other's company while music plays in the background.

At first, you felt very nervous about having Eric over. Worried that you might become too obvious with your attraction towards him and scare him off. But to your surprise, spending time and getting to know him was very calming.

"Okay, now after pouring, just turn on the mixer for a few seconds." He nods his head at your instruction. After turning off the mixer, Eric slightly dips his clean finger into the batter to taste the mixture.

"Oh my god, this is so good!" He groans.

"Eric... It hasn't even been baked yet."

"No, try it! I swear." He dips another clean finger into the batter and holds his finger out in front of you.

"No, no, it's okay. I can get it myself." You nervously say, trying not to blush at what he wants you to do.

"C'mon now, before it spills over." His batter-dipped finger still hanging in front of you.

"O-okay..." You grab his hand in yours and raise it a little higher, leaning forward to take his finger in your mouth.

Eric's breath hitches as you slowly swirl your tongue around his digit, your eyes never leaving his.

"T-taste good?" He stutters.

"Mhm." You hum in response, hollowing your cheeks to suck the batter completely clean off his finger. Releasing it with a pop.

"H-holy shit..." He mumbles, caught in a daze watching you suck his finger clean.

To be completely honest, he did it as a joke. He was not expecting you to actually lick the batter from his finger at all. The whole act makes his cock twitch in his pants.

You don't even know where your boldness came from. But you liked the confidence it brought you, seeing Eric get all flustered from what you just did. Mentally patting yourself on the back for adding that popping sound at the end.

You turn around before making things more awkward than they are, grabbing the baking pan on the counter to prepare pouring the batter.

"Okay, now that the batter is good, we can finally start to bake-" You suddenly feel Eric's hands grab your waist, spinning you around to face him as he instantly smashes his lips against yours.

Both your lips move oddly at first until they find the perfect groove. Your arms slowly wrap themselves around his neck as he leans his hands on the edge of the counter, caging your body under his.

You kiss one another passionately until you pull away for a moment to catch your breath.

"I knew from the moment you rang my doorbell I was a goner." He smiles at you. “Thought about you every night since we met.”

Before you can even respond back, he grabs your waist and hoists you up, making you sit at the edge of the counter before diving back in to kiss you some more.

Your hands find their way through his hair, tugging them as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans, squeezing your waist before pulling down the straps of your sundress to kiss your exposed chest.

"So pretty..." he mumbles against your skin, littering as many kisses as he can while massaging your breasts with his strong hands.

As you close your eyes and play with his hair, Eric spots a bottle of syrup in the corner of his eye. He grabs the bottle with his free hand and releases your nipple from his mouth, pulling himself away from you for a moment to open the bottle.

"Hold still..." he inverts the bottle and squeezes the syrup onto your chest, making sure the syrup covers your nipples in the process.

You gasp at the feeling of the liquid slowly rolling down your skin but instantly moan as you feel the tip of Eric's tongue following the trail of the syrup as he cleans it off your body.

His tongue flicking and sucking each nipple in the process, making your back arch at his touch.

You feel your core throbbing slowly, secretly wanting to relieve yourself of the ache. But it's like Eric read your mind as he brings his hand to your inner thigh, massaging it before moving it closer to your core. His finger hooks your panty to the side before plunging two fingers inside your cunt.

The squelching sound of your dripping hole becomes audible as soon as he pumps his fingers in you at a fast pace.

You utter what Eric thinks is the most angelic moan he's ever heard in his life, motivating him to keep pumping his fingers inside you as he continues to lick the syrup off your chest.

"Oh, Eric..." you moan out his name as you arch your back more, your arms resting behind you to keep yourself balanced. The slurping sounds he makes as he continues to lick your chest have you nearing your edge.

"Fuck, you're getting tighter around my fingers. Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" He lifts his head to look at you.

"Yes! Yes! I wanna cum-"

"Then cum for me, cum all over my fingers." He increases the pace of his fingers, rubbing his thumb on your clit to help you reach your high faster.

Your high hits you like a tidal wave, making you cum so hard you're practically seeing stars. You hear Eric catching his breath as you come down from your high.

"That was fucking hot..." Eric looks at you with hazy eyes. Chest heaving as if he-

"Did you just?" Your eyes widen at the discovery.

"Yeah, I did..." his cheeks glow red in embarrassment. "Best dessert I've ever had." You giggle at his remark.

"Actually, I'm pretty good at making this one recipe. I can show you if you want." He adds.

You tilt your head to the side. "Oh? For what dessert?" He smirks at you as he squeezes your waist once more,

"Creampies..."

#deoboyznet #eric sohn #eric sohn smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #tbz smut #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #eric sohn scenarios #tbz hard hours

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amomentsescape · 8 months

Text

The Slashers React to You Bringing Home a Kitten

A/N: This is purely for fun. I've only included the Slashers I've written fics for so far. But these types of fics tend to put a smile on my face so I'd be happy to write more of these for whoever wants them (for whichever Slashers people want to see too)!

Michael Myers

Probably the most angry of the Slashers included here

He's not going to kill the kitten by any means, but he isn't happy about it being here

It's another mouth to feed, another thing that needs to be quieted

If you're able to keep the kitten quiet and away from Michael, then the killer will more so become indifferent to it

It makes you happy and doesn't bother him? Cool, do what you will

However, if he feels that it's becoming a nuisance, he'd happily leave a door open on "accident"

It was already difficult enough for him to create a bond with you

But with a kitten that can't even talk to him?

Yeah, he'd rather not

Jason Voorhees

Oh my

A cute innocent creature that is super sweet to him?

It's basically just another you

And he likes you, so he immediately likes the kitten

This man wreaks havoc and leaves behind human blood trails all the time

However, he doesn't really want to hurt any animals

These furry creatures have caused him no harm

They never judged him based on his appearance

They were never cruel or bullied him like other people did

In fact, he was fascinated with all sorts of animals as a child

Kittens were no exception

So you come home with a cuddly little cat that enjoys to cuddle up with him?

He'll take it happily

Brahms Heelshire

He's kinda eh with this at first

The house is huge, and it's not like a tiny kitten is going to take up much space here

But what this kitten does take up is more of your attention

And Brahms being Brahms, he starts to become jealous

Your attention went from being solely on him to now being divided with this animal that could clearly fend for itself

You need to feed it, cuddle it, and give it attention?

That's what you should be doing with him

He definitely has a few moments where he debates "getting rid" of the kitten

But then he pictures your crying face and decides against it

But he still considers it from time to time

However, if you are able to turn kitten time into Brahms-and-kitten-time, then he might learn to like it

Animals freak him out slightly since he's not really used to having them around

But he could learn to deal with it eventually

Just make sure you divide up your attention equally

Billy Loomis

He's more of a dog person honestly

But you were swooning and aw-ing over this poor little thing so Billy gave in

You were probably just going to keep nagging him about it anyways

He's definitely like one of those dads that insist they don't want a pet but eventually fall in love with it

Billy will never admit this though

But you can see it

Over the span of a couple weeks, Billy went from just eyeing the kitten to letting it crawl and sleep in his lap

He tries to act all nonchalant about it

But the moment you look away

His eyes are on the kitten and a gentle smile graces his features

Okay so maybe the kitten isn't that bad

But maybe you're just making him all soft

He's secretly not complaining though

Stu Macher

Literally all for it

He loves cats, dogs, hamsters, all animals pretty much

He might honestly become more obsessed over this little kitten than you

He most definitely wants to dress it up like Ghostface

Like are you kidding?

How adorable is that

You can hear loud footsteps in the middle of the night

And when you check, Stu is chasing the kitten back and forth during it's zoomies

Buys (and steals) all sorts of toys for the little thing

Lets it sleep on his chest at night

He's obsessed with this kitten and you

It's like his own little family

And he's honestly super happy with that

Eric Draven

Have you learned anything about Eric?

He loves cats

He does want the kitten and Gabriel to get along though

But if they make quick friends, then great

He plays around with the kitten pretty often

And he's overall just happy to have another something in his life to bring a little joy

The kitten chills with Eric outside while he plays guitar

The only issue is that the kitten would rather spend more time with Eric than you

Tries to play with the crow

The bird just caws annoyedly and flys off

Eric and you both cuddle up at night with the kitten in the middle

It's a pretty relaxing domestic life to be honest

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hotvintagepoll · 19 days

Text

Propaganda

Marpessa Dawn (Black Orpheus)—She's like. fairy tale princess etheral pretty. truly eurydice realness. AND she's a singer AND she's a dancer. she used to be a governess/nightclub dancer, which isn't hot per say i just thought it was an interesting job combination. If you want to hear her sing just look up the Black Orpheus soundtrack

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

youtube

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

Marpessa Dawn:

Marpessa Dawn was an filipina/african american who became well known as an actress, singer and dancer in France. She is most famous for her role in 'Black Orpheus' in which she played Eurydice. It's difficult to find a picture where she and her husband, the actor Eric Vander, aren't kissing or hugging or laughing together, they are incredibly cute (and hot).

basically everyone and their mother will agree that marpessa dawn was one of THEE og vintage black women working in cinema (even if it was mostly in french cinema! the cross language barrier slay). mostly did her work in french cinema, and her smile in black orpheus is literally like the sun breaking over the sea

#marilyn monroe #marpessa dawn #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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spidybaby · 5 months

Note

Wenasss✨ Not me sneaking into your inbox🤭😅 to kindly ask for Bad Kind of Butterflies part II, please and thanks!🤣🫶🏼

Bad Kind of Butterlies | Part Two

Summary: Pedri regrets his actions and tries to get back to you.

Warnings: fighting, cursing. Physical fight. Part one

"Pedri, the ball. Keep your eyes on the fucking ball." Xavi yells. "God, what's going on with you today?"

Pedri can't even look at Xavi in the eyes, he has sis eyes glued to the floor. He can feel the looks of his teammates burning him.

"Miss that ball again, and you're benched." Xavi says, stern tone.

"I'm sorry, Mister."

He tries his best to focus on the ball, trying not to miss it or not miss the goal to the net, but he can't keep his mind on the field.

Gavi, playing with the other half of the team, stole the ball from him, making Oscar sound the little whistle.

He just observes the way Xavi is yelling. Tired and really not that interesting, he can't seem to understand a word that's coming out of his trainers mouth.

The training goes on for another half hour, and then they're all reunited in the salon to plan the next game.

The "Real Madrid vs Barcelona" typical classic.

He focuses all his attention on speech Xavi is giving the team. Turning his head to see Ferran typing something on his phone.

He makes the lining, Xavi kept his promise and bench him for the next game. Leaving the possibility of getting back if he improves in this next two trainings.

"Estas bien?" Ferran asks, taking him to the side for them to be alone.

"I'm not sure." He sincerely says. He can't keep secrets ti Ferran. "I just need to keep my head around what's important."

"And she's not?"

"The thought of her is making me be benched. I think I had enough of her for the rest of the week."

He turns to the dressing room, ready to collect his belongings and leave. No shower, no nothing.

But to his bad luck, Ferran is quicker and stops him by the arm. "You can't keep doing this. This is not healthy, Pedro."

"What am I supposed to do?" He angrily says, removing his arm from the hold of his friend. "She won't listen to me, she changed her number, she changed her apartment building. It's like she disappeared."

Ferran was holding the bitter "I told you" He had been keeping since after the party.

When a very angry Gavi told him about the words Eric said to his date and then to Pedro, he was pissed, he wanted to fight him. But, like a rational person, he calmed Gavi down and helped fixing the situation.

What he could help was the disaster Pedri did, yelling at you and fighting with gavi over the words of Eric. Words he warned him about.

"Just please call me if you need anything." He pats Pedri on the back and walks to the showers.

He nods, grabbing his stuff and walking back to his car. He wants to run away from everything and everyone.

Once he makes it to his car, his head feels like it's going to blow up. He'd dizzy and tired.

The way his heart is pounding like crazy and he feels like passing out scares him. This isn't news to him. He was having a panic attack.

He tries to breathe, counting things like you thought him. Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

Once he's calmed enough to at least drive himself home, he calls Fer, asking him to be home "I need you, Fer." He says crying.

His brother was worried, his whole family was. He wasn't the sweet, happy and very enthusiastic boy they known. He was now this confused and sad looking boy.

Pedri can't even seem to move upstairs to his room, he can't help the tear falling down, he can't help the blame he feels.

His relationship with Pablo was broken, his relationship with Eric is almost non existent. All thanks to him.

He can't blame Eric for it, he was the one who did all the bad stuffs, hitting your friend, hurting you by not trusting you.

He remembered your words like if you were just telling them to him.

"You're not dumb. You're such a smart man. So I need you to use that intelligence to understand that if you keep doing this shit, you're losing me."

But did he lost you?

He wanted to heard you voice, wanted to hear about that interview you told him about the day of the wedding. He wanted to hear about your new workout routine.

But he can't, because everytime he calls you he hit voice-mail. Everytime he goes looking for you he remembers that a new person lives in that apartment. Everytime he tried to look up for your social media profiles you weren't there.

"And that fucking sucks." He tells Fer, not knowing how else express his feelings.

Fer understand the struggle you both are going through, from his brother side is the blame of making you leave and not being the man you deserved. And he also understand that you want Pedri to change and to fight for you.

Ferran and Fer tried his best to talk to you and convinced you to give Pedri a chance. Thing you denied, you made a promise to yourself, he needed to prove to you that he changed.

You wanted the relationship you had before, the trust, the unconditional love. You wanted to feel joy again, to feel like you could be with him again.

You can't say you had it worse, but you were struggling as well. Sira had to force out of bed and to a local park. You cried like a child in her lap, telling her how much you needed him.

"You don't need someone who can't make an effort of changing. You need to understand that."

She was right, you needed someone who will be there for you in bad and good. During hard and easy.

"Good morning sunshine." Sira yells opening the curtains. The sun hit directly to your face, making you groan and turn around.

"oh, no ma'am." she pulls the duvet in a quick motion. "I made breakfast, get up."

She gave you five minutes to wash your face and brush your teeth. You can't help to feel a little annoyed at the wake-up call Sira pulled.

"Eat, please." She serves the breakfast to you, giving you a fork and a kiss on the cheek.

The day was bright, the sun was shining so much, the view from your apartment was breathtaking, making you feel happy instantly.

"I can't believe we're going to graduate tomorrow." Sira yells while doing a little dance. "I'm so happy for us."

"I am too, thank you for sticking up to me after all this time."

You walk over to her, giving her a big hug. She separates a little, reaching for the grad hat you have in the corner, putting it up on you.

When you broke up with Pedri you had a very bad time, you were in denial, somehow blaming yourself for the things that happened.

Then was the rage, it was not your fault, it was Eric's and Pedro's fault. He was the one believing the disturbing mind of Eric.

Then came the sadness, you were crying like crazy, in the shower, at the movies when Sira and Kyle took you out, at the parking lot of the building.

And now you're just blue.

"We have to go get the dresses, eat and let's go."

When the lease for your apartment concluded. You wanted to move to a smaller place, wanting something more "home like"

Sira was not okay with the decision, she convinced her parents on sharing a Apartment with you while you both figure your life out.

The moving was heartbreaking for you, specially because you couldn't run away from the memories.

"When you graduate, we're moving together. We can remodel the house, giving it your touch, make this place our home."

You used to laugh, thinking it was crazy for him to think about settling down at barely twenty one. "You'll change your mind, Pepi. "

But he cut you off, telling you that there was no other thing in his mind. He can't picture a future without you in it.

"I invite Pablo to the ceremony, and Fernando." You confess.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked worried. "I mean, Pablo I guess but Fer?"

"My family isn't coming, so I have the tickets and the closest thing to a family here is you, your family that is already attending and the González."

"Okay, if you think that's the right think to do, I'm not saying anything."

🪷🪷🪷

"Squish, all of you, let me take a picture." Luis Enrique says. "Okay, in three, two, one, cheese!."

You smile, arm around Sira and Karla.

After what felt like a whole photoshoot, Sira was ready to greet some family members that joined the ceremony.

"Y/n!" you heard at the distance.

You turn around, looking for the voice. It was your favorite angry bird. The big white bouquet of flowers doesn't go unnoticed.

"Felicidades, preciosa." He hugs you with one hand, the flowers getting in the middle of that. "Oops, sorry. This is for you."

"Thank you, Pablito." You hug him carefully this time. "Thank you for coming."

"I was happy when you sent me the invite, Sam says hi and congratulations."

"Are you coming to my party?"

Pablo was about to answer but someone calling you name again interrupting him.

"Fer!" You say, happily about seeing him again. "Thank you for coming." You say, getting squish between his arms.

"Felicidades, hermanita." He kiss your cheek. "Mom and dad are so proud of you, they send their congratulations to you."

You smile at him, the warmth your heart is feeling is making you blush. "Thank you." You whisper. "Pablito and you need to tell me if you're coming tonight."

"I will, what about you, Fer?"

"I can't wait."

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🪷🪷🪷

"Okay, it's game day time. Let's finish preparing ourselves, and let's go warm up." Oscar says, excited about the match against RMA.

"Pedri, can I have a minute outside, please." Xavi calls.

He was trying his best to concentrate, head in the game. Even if that sounds like a high school musical thing to say.

"Mira, I know I said that I was benching you." Xavi began, making Pedri nod. "I'm going to make an exception, I'm making Marc play for twenty minutes then you're in."

"I promise that I won't lose the ball." He smiles like the cat in Alice in wonderland. "Gracias, Mister."

Xavi pats his back, smiling back at him. He knows that Pedri has the range, he just needs to take it out in the right place. The field.

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"Finally, a game that was worth to watch." Kyle says, eating the remaining pop corn from the bowl.

This game was very important for the Barcelona, they needed this game to keep themselves at the top of La Liga.

And they did it. They won.

Pedri scored a game thanks to Pablo's passing the ball to him.

"He played really good." Karla comments.

"Yeah, he did." You whisper.

You were proud of him, he was your golden boy after all.

You remembered the first game you went to. He gifted you a shirt with his number. He sent a car to come get you.

That was the first gol he ever dedicated to you. You remember the way you felt, the smile on his face, the aura of the stadium. It was simply magical.

And now you're supporting him from the comfort of your home. Because no matter what, he was all that to you.

But where you still all that to him?

You always kept those thoughts for yourself, your friends were done with you talking about him. Always ending up crying.

"So are we going out tonight?" Karla asks, turning the TV off.

"I don't know if I want to go out guys." You say, washing the dishes from the dinner. "I'm not feeling well."

"A Tylenol and were out and about, my lady." Sira says laughing at your face.

"Fine, but I don't want to he out till five in the morning, please."

"Deal."

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The party was good, you ended up not inviting Kyle because you were feeling like having a girl's night out.

Karla got invited to a vip club that was on the way of your apartment, you were on your way there.

"We're going to the vip section." She says to the bodyguard at the entrance, showing him a picture. "Thank you."

The club was way fuller than the last one, the aura was way better too.

"Y/n, let's get a drink." Sira yells.

"Let's just take Karla to her friends table and we can go, okay?" You yell back, she nods.

Karla was seeing this dude that was a manager of some new footballers, they were young like in La Masia.

The other dudes at the table invited you to different drinks, since they got special treatment because of their vip status.

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You were thankful with your friends, they were making you have so much fun.

"Girls, I'm going to the bathroom." You say to your friends, getting up from your seat and walking to the little outside bathroom they have for the vip rooms.

You got knocked up a little by someone, hitting you shoulder with the door frame. "Fucking idiot." You say to yourself, smoothing the hurt area.

You were washing your hands when someone moved the doorknob, knocking desperately at the door.

"Wait, I'm almost done." You say drying your hands with a paper towel. The person on the other side keeps knocking like crazy. "It's been five seconds like wait." You say.

You open the door and to your surprise the face on the other side of the door is a familiar one. "Y/n?"

"Ferran, hi!"

He walks inside the bathroom, making your way out impossible since he closed the door. "Joer', it's so good to see you." He hugs you for a few seconds.

You can smell the alcohol in his breath, making you scrunch your nose. "Are you alone?" You ask him.

"No, I'm with some friends from Valencia."

"Okay, take care Fer, I need to go back to my friends." You wanted to leave so he can use the bathroom.

"Wait, I want to talk to you." He stops you from opening the door. "Please give me your number."

You think for a few seconds, not sure about the proposal. "What if I wait for you outside?" You smile at him.

"You won't run away?" He asks, you shake your head no. "Pinky promise?" He elevate his pinky finger over to you.

"Pinky promise." You smirk while intertwining fingers with him. "Hurry up." You say, walking outside for him.

A few minutes later you see Ferran dance walk over to you, you smile at this goofiness. You missed that.

"Tell me, Mister paella." You joke, mentioning his nickname you and Pedri gave him.

"I wanted to tell you, more like ask you for a favor." He says breathlessly. "I know you might say no, but I want to try."

You knew where this was going, but you let him continue with his speech. Nodding your head to let him know you heard him and to continue.

"I know that you probably are in a better place and you are moving on, but please heard me out. Pedri is not alright, and you don't own him nothing after the stupid shit he pulled, but please you need to talk to him."

You sigh, you know that he was not having the best development during training or at the matches. Fer told you that already, but he didn't asked for you to reach to him.

"I know I'm asking for too much." He continued. "I'm just out of ideas of what to do with him. Xavi is about to beat his ass, Oscar too, Gavi and him don't even look at each other. We almost beat Eric to the ground with Gavi."

"He deserves that." You scuff. "But I'm not sure what you expect me to do?"

"Can you maybe call him? Or text him?" He asks. "Or I don't know, send him a dm if you don't want to share your number with him."

You think about it for a good minute, you knew that he was struggling, you were too, but you wanted to maybe help him even when he didn't deserved that.

"I'll reach out to him." You finally say. Making Ferran jumps from excitement. "I'll try to find a good time, okay?"

He nods excited, hugging you and giving you a quick kiss in the side of the head. "Thank you, if you need a ride home you can tell me."

"Thank you, I'm good, my friend is driving us." You wave him goodbye. Both of you go back to each vip rooms.

🪷🪷🪷

"Look at this cd" Pablo says, passing the 1989 cd. "What are you doing this December?"

"Well, I was thinking about spending my December here in Barcelona." You say, helping him organizing some pictures. "Aw, young Pablito." You say, showing him the picture.

"Stop that." He laughs. "So you're not going back home?"

"I mean my family is not going to be there, so I might as well be alone here."

"You're welcome to spend time with Sam and with me. Also with my family and me."

"Thank you, crunchy guy." You joke with him.

Now that he's in recovery you can visit him more often. You love watching new movies and shows with him because you have the same taste.

"I want to ask you something." You say, not sure how to approach the topic of Pedri. "But you can tell me if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Okay?" He says, eyes scrunched.

"Ferran and I were at the same club and we find ourselves in the bathroom." You began. "Long story short, he asked me to call Pedri."

"Y/n, I'm not the best to give you advice on this."

"I just need guidance, Pablo." You confess. "I'm not one to ask you anything but just be honest with me."

"Joder" He sighs, hands on his face. "What do you want me to say?"

"How is he?" You ask worried. "Is he doing okay?"

"He came to see me at my recovery the other day." He says, hand scratching his head. "He asked me to forgive him."

You let him take him time to tell you everything.

"We talked and it's not like we are on speaking terms like we used to but we are better."

"That's good, I think you both needed that." You say honestly.

"Now, to answer you. I think he's doing better little by little. He's not the best at hiding his feeling and you know that, he tents to get quiet and death looking." He laughs at the last part. "But, if you want my opinion, I think he needs to fight for you. A call or a text will not harm anyone."

You nod, taking everything he says into consideration. He was right, Pedro had to make some sacrifices for you.

"But, you can do what you think is best." He says, hands in the air.

"Thank you, angry bird." You hug his body, careful with his leg. "Love you."

"Can you show me love in a form of a sandwich?" He asks, batting his eyelashes like a little kid. "Pretty please."

"Just because you're my little baby." You tap his nose with care. Making him laugh. "I'll be back."

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"I was thinking about doing a baking course." You tell Sira, you're at the pool at her parents house. "I want to learn how to do Christmas cookies."

"My mom knows how to, you can ask her to teach you."

"That's better, you're right."

You keep looking at your phone, it's been three weeks since the talk with Ferran and two since the talk with Gavi.

Today they announced that Pedri was feeling some pain in his muscles, so he wasn't training. You know how much that affects Pedro mentally.

"Hey, what if we go change? I kinda want to go shopping." You say, getting out of the pool and walking over to the towel. "You coming?"

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🪷🪷🪷

"I'm going to take a shower and we can eat, okay?" You say, hands full of bags. "Chao bella, take a shower please."

You leave everything on a chair next to your bed, the phone in your pocket feels heavy, you know you want to make that call.

You dial his phone number, sitting with your legs crossed on your bed. Your heart is beating like crazy.

"Hola"

Your breath is gone, you suddenly lost the ability to talk.

"Hola?" He repeats.

His raspy voice, his heavy breaths when he's trying to catch air. Simply him.

"Hola." You whisper.

Now is his turn to lost the speech ability. He's frozen. It's been months.

"Y/n?" He asks, not believing you're the one on the line.

"Hola." You repeat. "Te llamé en mal momento?" (Did I call you at a bad time?) You ask, bitting your nails.

"No, de hecho no estaba haciendo nada." You can hear a door closing. "How are you?" (No, I was actually not doing anything)

"I'm good, dealing with life. What about you? I heard about your muscle pain."

Your voice is low, you feel scared of saying something wrong. Even though you're barely at the beginning of the call.

"I've been better, I'm missing the Dallas game." He sighs. "I just feel like every time I'm feeling confident about coming back, my body gets fucked up."

You humm in response, letting him vent his frustration.

"I'm tired honestly, Xavi and Oscar are at the edge with me and I think that with the team. Frenkie barely came back, the team sucks, Gavi is hurt."

"I'm sorry this is going like that." You say, being honest.

"I don't even log into social media anymore. On Twitter and on Instagram the haters keep comparing me with Jude, with Vini, with Rodry. I'm so done, Y/n."

"Ay Pepi, I wish I can say something to make you feel better. But you know I suck at that." You laugh, making him laugh too. "You know you're amazing, and that if Xavi and Oscar get frustrated they don't feel your pain, that's why you have to be open with how your body feels."

"I do, believe me that I do, but I can't help but think that every time I say my muscles hurt, they gave me this disappointed look."

The way his voice break makes your heart hurt. You know from past experiences that his mental health goes down day by day if he overthink about the topic.

"And my parents and Fer try to tell me off of this ideas and I don't think it's working. I just wish I can turn my brain off for the night so I can sleep well tonight."

His breathing is getting heavier by the second, you can pick what's going on. He's overthinking and about to have a panic attack.

"Oye, tell me about that game you wanted to buy." You ask out-of the blue, making his mind think of another think.

"Game? What game?" He asks, voice breaking.

"Yeah, the one you wanted to buy. That one with the cars on it." You explain. "And what about that drink you wanted to try, did you tried it?"

"The green one?"

"Si, that one. Did you tried it? Was it good?"

"It tasted weird, and the game I never bought it. Lost interest on it."

"Okay, what about your mother croquettes?"

"They're so good, I broke diet the other day at Adrian's birthday party."

You can hear the breathing being hard but not as heavy as before. You relax, laying fully on your bed.

"Te amo." He says. "I'm sorry about everything, I'm so dumb. You told me that I was losing you and I never changed. It's my fault you're not next to me, that you're not at my games."

"Pedri, let's not do this." You interrupted him.

"Let me say it, Y/n." He begged. "I need to get this out of me, it's eating me alive."

"Okay, keep going."

"I know Fer went to your graduation. I cried myself to sleep that night, and every night after I lost you. I can't think of anything else." He sobs, making your heart hurt. "And my parents are so fucking mad at me, because how could I lost the girl of my dreams?"

"Pedro." You tried to make him stop.

"And my father told me how disappointed he was of me. He was so mad when I told him the truth. I can't keep doing this without you. You were supposed to be laying next to me, calling this place your home. I'm sorry."

"This is not why I called."

"Tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me." He begged again. "Tell me how can I fix this. Please."

"Pedro, stop."

"Please."

You wanted to hang up, not wanting to give up on all the progress you've made. In the promises you made to yourself.

"I think we both need to take a breath." You laugh nervously. "Please, breathe."

All you can hear was the heavy breathing from your and his side of the call. Your mind running a mile per second.

"Can we met, please?" He asks. Your heart was saying yes, but your mind was more coherent.

You were about to answer when Sira stormed into the room asking you to try something. Pedro heard the voice of her and wondered if you were at his parents house.

"I have to go." You say, hanging up the phone quickly. "What?" You ask Sira, she's looking at you with narrowed eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I was about to take a shower but my mom called."

"Was it bad?" She asked worried. "Do you want to talk?"

"I'm fine, I'm just getting in the shower and then we can have some of that green thing you have in there." You tap her nose and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Pedro was laying on the couch he has in his room, his head pounding like crazy, the tears falling from his eyes, wetting his face.

He walks to his bathroom, he needs to wash his face. He needs to relax and breathe like you told him to.

The way he feels lighter after telling you how he feels was refreshing, his shoulders don't have the weight they used to five minutes ago.

His reflection is like a stranger to him. His dark circles under his eyes now darker, his weight every day less. He can't keep doing this to himself.

You feel the same way as you look at your reflection. The tears pooling that you don't want to let wet your face.

You take deep breaths, the sound of shower and the steam makes you be back from your thoughts. You got into the shower, sliding down the bathroom wall while hiding your face into your hands.

Pedro can't seem to find a way to stop his tears, knees on the floor while the sounds of his painful cry interrupt the peaceful silence of his home.

🪷🪷🪷

"You sure you're okay with me going to this party?"

Ferran invited you to his sister's birthday party, you and her were good friends thanks to Sira. Sadly due to the breakup, Sira didn't wanted to come but sent her a gift.

"Yes, go and have fun. I'm fine here with my book and with my coffee."

You kissed her on the cheek and went on your way, you asked Fer if he was coming but he told you that he was about to leave to Tenerife.

"But if you wonder or not." He says with a funny tone. "Pedri will be home."

You knew that Ferran sister didn't invite him, she told you herself. So you were fine with at least not having to tip toe around.

The party was at this club that Ferran rented for her party, you loved the pink and white theme she chose.

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You were enjoying yourself, finding some in common friends you haven't talk to in a while, the vibes were good and the night was refreshing for you.

You were retouching your makeup at the bathroom. You heard knocking on the door, thinking that maybe they found that the downstairs bathroom was full.

You take the last look at yourself in the mirror. Adjusting you jacket and opening the door, you find the person you wanted to dissappear from this earth.

The way he roll his eyes makes you angry, he was annoyed at your presence? You should be the one that's rolling the eyes at him.

"Move, please." You say, stern tone.

"You're leaving so soon?" He smirks.

You don't think twice and push him to the side, you can hear him fall over to the little sofa that was outside the bathroom.

You walk downstairs, finding the birthday girl and saying your goodbyes to her and to Ferran, who was next to her.

You were walking to your car when you feel someone grabbing you by the arm and throwing you agains a car door.

You groan at the pain that's growing on your side. You put your hand against your ribs, you find hard to breathe.

"You really think you can treat me like shit?"

"Are you out of your right mind?" You whisper, not fully recovered from the impact. "What the fuck."

"You're such a fucking bitch, making my friends be against me, making my team be against me."

"What the fuck are you talking about? You did this to yourself, Eric"

You tried to walk away from him by pushing him but he grabbed you back and stamped you back again. Making the car alarm sound.

"Eric, what the fuck?" You hear someone yell.

You notice how Ferran was running to where you are. Pushing Eric away from you. He shield you with his body.

"Why is everybody defending her?" Eric yells, getting closer again.

"Don't fucking dare."

"I just don't get why everyone believes she's the innocent girl she pretends to be."

You scuff, he's the one mad at you as if he didn't ruined your relationship. "You were the one telling Pedri shit and making him doubt me. You ruined my relationship"

"Oh no, I ruined your little gold digging act? Are you not able to afford rent now?"

"Fuck you." You spat, feeling rage grow inside of you. "Maybe if you use that mind inside the field you would be a good player and not the trash you are."

"Enough!" Ferran yells. "You, go away." He points at Eric. "Now!"

He grabs your arm, making you walk away from the scene. You keep your hand on your side, trying to smooth the area where is hurting.

"Can you drive?" He asks, you nod slowly. "What the fuck, what the actual fuck?" He whispers.

"I'm fine, you can go back to the party, Ferran." You whisper. "Thank you."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in shock but I'm fine, don't worry about me. Please don't let this ruin the party." You hug him, his hands on your back trying to calm you down.

Even when you don't cry or show any emotion, he knows you're not okay.

"Tell me when you're home"

"Yes, I'll dm you, thank you."

He's back inside once you're on your way at the driveway. You're on autopilot, feeling hazy from all the emotions you're feeling.

You don't even notice the turns you make until you're outside his door. You turn off the car, taking your phone to text him.

You waited for barely two minutes, the door of his house opening. You take your seat belt off and stretch to the passenger door, opening it for him.

"Hola, preciosa." He says, worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Want to go for a ride?" You ask, ignoring his question. He nods, asking you to wait for him.

Once he collects his keys and a sweater, he hup up your car and you began the drive. You have a destination in mind.

Hes quiet, not sure if he's supposed to ask you again if you're okay. He's just enjoying seeing you after so long.

"It's too cold for just that jacket." He says, eyes up and down your body.

"It's fine, it keeps me warm." You say, the stern tone of voice worries him. "Seatbealt on." You say when the annoying alarm goes off.

"Yours is off too." He points at your chest, you just groaned, putting the seatbelt on.

Your drive to the highest part of the park. The beautiful view of Barcelona at night welcome you. You turn the car off, getting out as soon as you can.

You wanted to scream.

All you wanted was peace. You wanted to feel like you used to feel before all of this. You wanted to be able to go home and find your boyfriend there or go to his place and share things about your day, share moments with him.

The hands of Pedri on your shoulders feel heavy, you take a step, making the contact break.

"Do you trust me?" You ask on the verge of tears.

"With my life." He answer, not wasting a minute.

"Then why did you do that to me?" You let the tears fall down your face. "Was I not a good girlfriend?"

"Y/n, don't say that." He shake his head no. "You were the best thing I ever had."

"Then tell me, what it was?"

"It wasn't you, it was me. All me." He elevated his voice. Not at you but at the heat of the situation. "It was all me, I was the one who got those stupid ideas in my head, I trusted you, I knew Kyle was nothing but your friend, I knew you were just friends with Pablo, I know you would never do nothing to hurt me."

"What about the day I left?" You ask, the aftertaste is bitter on your mouth.

The thought of that day bring nightmares to his mind. The things he told you, the shit he provoked. They way he pushed you over the edge to the point of making you leave.

"I don't have a problem with the way you dress, I love your style. I don't have a problem with how much you love your friends, I love your way of acting, the way you love everyone, I don't have a problem with you being friends with Pablo, I love you and I love how my friends are your friends."

He take a deep breath, feeling like the air in his lungs is not enough. Feeling like the cold air is making breathing hard.

"And I'm sorry about the way I treated you, the way I was acting, I never meant to make you feel bad about my insecurities. I was the problem. I was the one who let someone else get into my head, I was the one who made the mistakes, and i was the one who made you feel like I didn't love you."

He gets closer to you, hands on your cheeks, drying the tears. Your hold his hands with yours. "But I love you, don't ever think that I don't." He whispers, kissing the top of your nose.

You nod, grabbing his face with your hands, caressing his cheeks. You pull him towards you, pressing your foreheads together.

"I love you too." You say after a while, pulling away from him. "But I have to love myself first. And I need to see that you changed."

Even when your words burn his heart, he understand. He wanted to prove himself to be what you needed, the person you can trust. He wanted to be all that to you again. Because you're all that to you.

"I'll do anything to prove to you that I changed. I'll wait as long as you need to, I want you to trust me again."

"I miss you." You hug him, arms locking behind his neck. His hands don't miss a minute to intertwine behind your back.

"I miss you more." He kisses you neck. "I promise I will prove you that I can be the person you deserve."

You enjoyed the warmth of his body against yours. You can't help but think of how he was right and your jacket was definitely not enough. You giggle a little.

"What's that?" He asks, smiling.

"You're right, it's too cold." You sniff, feeling the cold reach every part of you.

He separates and undo the zipper of his sweater, hands on each side opening the sweater for you to hug him and get more warm.

"Now that's better." You say, kissing his collarbone, making him smile against your hair.

🪷🪷🪷

"Last christmas I have you my ass, but the very next day you fuck my best friend, this year I'm fucking you dad and I'm also fucking your cousin."

You laugh at Fer singing Cardi's remix of the Christmas song. He was helping you with baking christmas cookies over FaceTime.

Pedro and you have made amazing progress, he was proving himself day by day.

"To think that a year ago today you guys were at the top of a cliff at the park solving your issues." He jokes, making Pedro give him the finger while laughing.

"Good thing your bother knows how to redeem himself." You second Fernando's joke.

"Joer, hablan de mi como si yo no existiera y estoy aquí parado, no me imagino cuando no los pueda escuchar." He laughs, making you smile and shake tou head at him. (You guys talk about me as if I'm not standing right here, I can't imagine what you say when I'm not present)

"only good things, mi amor." You kiss his cheek.

"Bueno, yo los dejo, I have to help mom with some things at la Tasca." (Well, I'm out) he waves you goodbye and cut the FaceTime.

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You two spend the rest of the day decorating and eating the cookies. Making Pedri break his diet, but he was okay with that.

"Oye, ven pa'qui." (Hey, come here) he calls you.

you walk over to him, he's sitting on the couch. A elf hat on his head. You can't help but smile at his cuteness.

"Yes sir?" You ask.

He possess his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him and making you fall on his lap. "Do you like how the house is looking."

"Very much, I love our home." You say, hugging him. "And I love you."

He smiles at you, looking around. He can't help but feel proud of himself. He proved you that he was worth a second chance. That he was your person and that he loved you more than anything.

He was happy you were happy with him. And that was something he knew he couldn't lose. Not you, not your love and not your future together.

"I love you more."

✨️✨️✨️

🏷: @gulphulp @jack1n @girlidekanymore @gadriezmannsgirl since you asked for part 2 🤭✨️

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