#adore x phi phi

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: surprise! Something to tide you guys over until the heart-wrencher that is part five!! Y'know, gotta have some laughs before everything blows up 💣 or something like that :)

previous chapter ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

What happens when your castmates decide to have a drinking game based on yours and Ewan's interviews? Chaos. Absolute chaos.

"Is it just me or does my head look abnormally large in this?" comes Tom's query as they sit on the floor around the low table in Phia's living room.

Phia, Tom, and Olivia are snug on the carpet, legs strewn in varying postions, their attention on the laptop on the table.

"No, just you, mate," Phia responds.

"Nah, look at 'im," Olivia counters, "Looking like a right old egghead."

"I knew it," Tom clicks his tongue, smiling at the jab.

The friends were just having a nice time catching up in Phia's apartment, and after several coffees and rolled cigarettes, they found themselves nestled on the floor, beers in hand.

Someone made a suggestion to check up on the interviews being released as part of the media rollout. And so they watched the cast's interviews, already having done with the one from Wired, MTV, and the Buzzfeed Puppy Interview.

"I loved those pups," Olivia remarked jokingly. "But they didn't love me back. Story of my life."

"Oh, I love you, Liv!" Phia had exclaimed, pulling her friend in for a hug.

"Aaanyway," Phia says, reaching forward and scrolling through the suggested videos, "how about this one next! I miss those two." She clicks on an interview you and Ewan had done together, in that long press day where you guys were paired by the media team.

"They look adorable, don't they?" Tom says. "Here's to hoping the lad's finally made a bloody move."

"What about the goss on that girl you all were with? The one at the pub?" Olivia curiously asks, not kept in the loop due to her holiday abroad.

"All bull. You know how the tabloids are. She was sweet and everything but Ewan was practically side-eyeing her all the way into oblivion when she kept clinging on his arm. Poor girl." Tom smirks, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"Awww, look! Ewan's looking at her all gooey-eyed. Even then!" Phia simpers, leaning against Olivia.

"Of course, I was extremely excited and nervous to join the cast for season two," you can be heard saying, "being a huge fan of the book and the first season... I mean, it was such a tall order for me to step into this world but you know - "

"She did it so flawlessly," Ewan says to the interviewer. "We were so lucky to have her join the show."

"Oh, come on," you can't help but blush and shake your head. "Everyone was so welcoming, really."

"Well, it's safe to say that the audience loves your character!" the interviewer says kindly.

"Thank you so much, I'm glad to hear that," you beam in return.

"What a character, indeed," Ewan says, looking at you again.

Tom giggles, swinging his beer, "The look on his face, oh my days! Ewan is whi-ipped, I'm telling you. Just look at those stars in his eyes, you'd think she's an angel or somethin."

"She is an angel," Phia muses.

"Lovely girl," Olivia agrees.

"Oh!" Tom sits upright suddenly, leaning forward on his knees, "How about this? They've got a couple interviews up, right? Drinking game then, shall we? A shot each time Ewan looks at her or pays her a compliment!"

Olivia laughs nervously, but she's more than game to participate. "A swig of beer or... "

"Nah!" Tom scrunches his face in response. "Say, Phi, have you got vodka or tequila or whatever?"

"I... think I've got some leftover tequila," she ponders. "Are you proposing a shot of tequila every time Ewan fawns over her? Isn't that a bit dangerous? Should we stick to beer?"

"It'll be fun," Tom reassures, already getting on his feet to fetch the bottle from the kitchen. "Ewan's a professional," he says, when he returns with tequila and three shot glasses. "Surely he maintained his focus during all of that. Can't be more than - what, three or four shots each?"

Oh, how wrong he is.

It only takes another interview for them to realise that they might have been overzealous in taking on the challenge.

Most Likely To with the cast of House of the Dragon, the screen displays. You and Ewan pop up in intervals, and they eagerly await your clips with shots in hand.

"Most likely to be late on set?" you say, raising your hands when you answer with, "I'm happy to say that it was not me."

"No?" Ewan asks.

"Nope, early each day," you smile at him.

"I believe you, I mean, I wish we actually had scenes together," Ewan says, smiling right back, eyes lingering on you when you add something more to your answer.

"Shot!" Tom exclaims. The trio's faces crunch up when the burning liquid slides down their throats.

"Fuck's sake," Olivia mutters. "Ewan better keep his googly eyes to himself."

"Don't get your hopes up," Phia says, knowing the both of you well.

"Most likely to accidentally date a serial killer? What the hell is this question?" Ewan snorts, eyebrows shooting up.

"Are we even in the right show for this?" you joke, and Ewan laughs harder, his hand finding your forearm and squeezing briefly.

"Shot, I suppose," Phia mumbles. "I mean, look at his face, the sweetheart."

Another round, and everyone feels warmer and more lightheaded.

"Wouldn't be me, I don't know about you?" you ask Ewan.

"Oh, I wouldn't. I don't think Aemond would either, he would see right through that."

"Next, most likely to show up in a stunning outfit," you read from the prompts off-camera.

"Hmm," Ewan muses, "I would say maybe Liv Cooke... she's had really good outfits on the carpet lately..."

"I agree," you nod enthusiastically. "Liv's killing it."

"And you, definitely," Ewan turns to you again. "I mean, stunning would be an understatement."

"Shot!" Olivia half-yells. "And bless her, look! She's turned all red from Ewan's flirting."

"Thanks, mate," you say, tilting your head at him. "You as well! Your stylists have outdone themselves this press tour, for sure."

"Half a shot cause she gives something his way?" Tom suggests, comically shrugging. By the end of the video, the group had done three and a half rounds of shots, all growing redder in the face, their laughter turning unhinged.

"I'm actually scared to do another interview," Olivia groans. "Can those two just shag each other already? Goodness!"

"Who knows? Maybe they have? Would be about time," Tom cheekily says, ever the agent of chaos.

"Ewan did fly out to see her," Phia nods. "They're both in America right now, my darlings."

"Another interview!" Tom gets to clicking, landing on the one you and Ewan did with Rotten Tomatoes.

"We ask everyone this question - can you tell me your favourite movie from this year?" is what the interviewer starts with.

"That's a good question," Ewan says. "Uhhmm, well, it isn't from this year I think but her film - " he gestures to you, " - is one of my all-time favourites. I think it came out late last year, if I'm not mistaken?" He looks to you for confirmation, and your flustered self manages to hum a response. "I just think the whole film was brilliant. It definitely showcases her talents and solidifies her as one to watch."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Tom sighs, and they all bring the shot glasses back to their lips.

"Guys, I might pass out by the end of this." Olivia stands to fetch herself a glass of water. "Ewan's a menace!" she calls out from the kitchen.

"We shouldn't have done this," Tom shakes his head.

"You suggested it!" Phia punches his arm, laughing.

"I guess I underestimated the degree of whipped that Ewan is. That cheeky lad."

Four more rounds of shots later, and the group has their tally up to eight and a half.

Yet another interview plays on the screen, and when Ewan - with all his bloody audacity - pushes a lock of hair away from your face on camera, Tom's eyes nearly bulge right out of his head.

"Oh my god!" he cries out. "He's trying to kill us! I think I'm actually going to puke."

"I quit." Olivia slumps against the base of the velvet couch. "I can't drink any more. Ewan wins."

Phia giggles at the screen, at the sight of her two dear friends slowly but surely falling in love right before the audience's eyes. In some show of celebration, she takes another shot, the last player left in the game.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Meanwhile across the Atlantic...

"Hey, darling," you hear Ewan's voice on the other line. "I just settled in my hotel in New York."

"That's good! Did your flight go well?"

"Mhmm, my meeting's tomorrow afternoon so I've got time to prepare," he takes a breath, before softly saying, "I miss you."

You laugh, "So you keep telling me, Mitchell."

"We're still on that huh, darling? Shouldn't you be calling me something more... personal, by now?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Well... the internet does call you their babygirl."

"Oh come on," he complains, smiling nevertheless.

"What is it, babygirl?"

"That's how you want to play it, bunny?"

"Ewan!" you groan. "Okay, okay."

"Anyway, darling," he says. "I really do miss you. I can't wait to see you again.'

The longing is clear in his voice and it tugs at your heart so much that you need to pause and collect yourself, before finally saying, "I miss you too, baby."

Cheers to all of yous who voted here! Baby it is ~

In the meantime...

Update! ~ part five

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

[deathbysnakes]

You're sick but you don't want to bother Dottore

Dottore x reader (Romantic)

Warnings:Swearing/Pet names/You and Dottore are married/Omega being weird

Pronouns:He/Him (Dottore and his clones), You/Your (Reader)

1% agnst/ fluff/ crack

Explanation:You're sick but you don't want to bother your beloved husband Dottore, but with Dottores clones swarming around you it gets harder and harder to hide your sickness

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

You're walking down one of the hall ways in your house, you're going to the kitchen to get a snack but there's one problem, to get to the kitchen you need to go through the living room, that's where Dottores clones and occasionally Dottore like to hang out when there on break or there's no experiments to experiment on. Dottores clones like to cling onto you and beg for your attention wich will be a problem. You pry that your foot steps will be masked from all the loudness in the living room, your prayers we're ignored. "[Name]!" You could feel a arm wrap around your arm, the clone that was holding onto you was Phi, Phi is...Weird...In a good way, well actually he experiments on people so I suppose he's weird in a bad way. "[Name] do you have any free time?? Will you spend some time with me??" You refrain yourself from talking, if you do your voice would sound stuffy amd it would give away the fact that you're sick. "[Name]? Are you alright?" You have to hold back a sneeze, you've already sneezed a lot today and some of the older clones are catching onto you. "[Name] are you ignoring me???" You desperately think of a way to avoid this situation without acting weird. "Did I do something to upset you...?" You could feel the other clones eyes on you, you can't hold this sneeze in for much longer. "[Name] please tell me what I did to upset you!" You can hear a door opening but you don't bother to see who it is. "[Name] please! I'm sorry for whatever I did!" You can't hold it in anymore. "[Insert sneeze noise]" The whole room goes silent. "Are you alright [Name]? That's the 14th time I've heard you sneeze today." You turn to see who was talking, it was the Original, Dottore. "Ha ha I'm fine..." You dash to the kitchen before Dottore could respond.

You're sitting on a couch in your room reading a book when suddenly, you hear the door to your bedroom open. "[Name]...?" You turn your head to see who it is, it's Dottore. "My love are you sick...?" You sigh and close the book you're reading and place it on the coffee table infront of you. Dottore walks over to you and sits down next to you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You try to avoid eye contact with your husband. "I didn't want to bother you..." Dottore places a hand on your shoulder. "You wouldn't be bothering me." You slightly look at Dottore. "But...Your work is important to you...Right...?" Dottore scoots closer to you. "It is, but is not more important than you. Next time this happens, please tell me." Before you could answer, Dottore scoops you up into his arms and he carries you to your shared bed. "Rest, my dear." Dottore whispers to you as he places you down on the bed. "Now, wait here, I'll be right back." He kisses you on your forehead before leaving the bedroom.

A few seconds pass, and you hear the door opening again, you turn to the sound. "Well, that was fas-" You stop your sentence once you see the man infront of you, it wasn't Dottore, it was Omega. "My dear, I've come to comfort you while you're sick!" Omega walks up to the bed and lays down on it, smiling at you. "Thank you Omega." You respond, you smile softly at Omegas adorable actions. Omega scoots closer to you but then the door opens once again. "Omega what the hell are you doing here?" Omega looks annoyed as he turns to face the person talking to him, of course, it's Dottore. "Get your ass out of here." Even though half of Dottores face is covered, he still looks intimidating when he's angry. Omega wraps his arms around you while still maintaining eye contact with his original. "No." Dottore looks more angry at his response. "I'll deal with you later..." Dottore mumbles under his breath. He walks to the other side of the bed and places down a glass of water on the small table next to the bed. "I need you to sit up for me love." Dottore speaks to you in a sweet tone. You sit up on the bed but Omega still clings onto you. Dottore opens a bottle of pills and takes one out and hands it to you, but as soon as you reach out your hand to take the pill from his hand, Omega snatches it. "What the hell do you think you're doing Omega?!" Dottore yells but Omega still looks unfazed, Omega ignores Dottore and turns to you. "Can you open your mouth so I can put this pill in?" (He thinks he's being romantic, he's not, he's being weird.) Though you're a little confused you oblige and open your mouth. Omega places the pill in your mouth and looks back at Dottore, expecting him to hand him the water, Dottore bears his teeth more but hands Omega the water, Omega hands you the water and you take it and drink it, Omega takes the glass out of your hands and he hands it back to Dottore, Dottore places the glass back on the small table while maintaining eye contact with Omega. Dottore lays down on the bed with you and Omega and also wraps his arms around you, Omega looks pissed off at this but doesn't do anything, these two are staring daggers into eachother and you just want to sleep. You sigh and lean back into the bed and close your eyes, Dottore and Omega will start arguing at some point and you just want to get shut eye before that happens.

[queersrus]

Npd/Narcissus theme

[npd/narcissus theme]

including narcissus from greek myth as well as anything related to the narcissus flower and npd.

tagging @clusterrune, @narcissist-hoarding

(nick)names:

narc, narci, narcis/narciss, narcisse, narcissa/narcisa, narcisso/narciso, narcet/narcett/narcette, narcetta, narcetto, narcel/narcell/narcelle, narcella, narcello, narcin/narcine, narcina, narcino, narcissus, narcissi, narcissist, narcissisa, narca, narcisset/narcissett/narcissette, narcissetta, narcissetto, narcissel/narcissell/narcisselle, narcissella, narcissello, narcissin/narcissine, narcissina, narcissino, narcissisti, narcissista, NP, ND, nargis, narkissos, narciso, narcyz, narkas, nargiza, narges, narcaf, narcas, narce, narcel, narcie, narcia, narciz, narco, narzy mirror, mirra/miraa/mira, mirrora, mirrorer, Major reflect, reflector, reflecta, reflection, Royal daf/daff, daffy/daffi/daffie, daffo, daffodil jon/john, jonqui, jonquil po/poe, poet, poeti, poetic, poeticus, phea, phae, pheasant, pink, pinki/pinkie/pinky, pinks, pinkster, Prince, Princess, Princex, Prinze eye fin/finn, find, finder, findern lil, lili/lilli/lily/lilly/lillie/lilie, Liriope taz, taze, tazet/tazett/tazette, tazeta/tazetta, thespiae King Cephissus queen, queeny/queenie

surnames:

Narcisse, Narcissa, Narcissi/Narcisi, Narcissist, Narcett, Narcissisa, Narciso/Narcizo, Narci, Narca, Narcis, Narcy Myrror/Mirror, Mirrored Reflector/Reflecter Daffodil Jonquil Poet, Poeticus, Pheasant, Pink, Pinkster Eye(s) Find/Finde, Finder, Findern Lily, Liriope Tazetta Cephissus

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ni/nar/narci/narcine/narcself ni/narc/narcs/narcself ni/nar/nargi/nargine/nargisself mi/mirr/mirro/mirrine/mirrorself ri/re/reflec/reflectine/reflectionself di/daff/daffi/daffine/daffodilself ji/jo/jon/jonquine/jonquilself pi/poe/poet/poetine/poetself phi/phea/pheas/pheasine/pheasantself pi/pink/pinks/pinkine/pinkself eye/ee/ey/eyine/eyeself fi/fe/find/fine/findself li/lil/lily/liline/lilyself ti/taz/tazets/tazine/tazettaself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself

no/narc/narcs/narcself no/nar/nargis/nargiself mo/mirror/mirrors/mirrorself ro/reflector/reflectors/reflectorself do/daffor/daffors/daffodilself jo/jonquir/jonquirs/jonquirself po/poeter/poeters/poeterself pho/pheasar/pheasars/pheasantself po/pinkster/pinksters/pinksterself eyo/eyer/eyers/eyerself fo/finder/finders/findernself lo/liler/lilers/lilyself to/tazer/tazers/tazerself

3rd p prns: they/them/theirs/themself

narc/narcs, np/npd, npd/npds, np/d, n/pd, narc/narcissist, narcissist/narcissists, narcissist/narcissistic, narci/ssist, narci/ssistic, narcissus/poeticus, nar/nargis, narg/nargis, nargi/nargis, nargis/nargis', narcissus/tazetta, narcissus/jonquil mir/mirror, mirr/or, mir/ror, mirror/mirrors, mirror/mirrored, mirror/mirroring reflect/reflects, reflect/reflection, reflect/reflector, reflect/reflected, reflect/reflecting, re/flect daff/daffodil, daffodil/daffodils, daffo/dil jon/quil, jon/jonquil, jonquil/jonquils po/et, poet/poets, poeti/cus, poet/poeticus, poeticus/poeticus, phea/sant, pheasant/pheasants, pheasant/eye, pink/ster, pink/pinkster, pink/pinks, pinkster/pinksters, pinkster/lily fi/findern, find/ern, finder/findern, findern/findernself, findern/flower lil/lily, lily/lilys, lil/y, li/ly taz/tazetta, taze/tazetta, tazetta/tazettas, taz/etta

titles:

the narc, the narcissist, the narcissistic, the one with npd, the npd haver, the one who adores themself/their reflection, the mirror gazer, the one who gazes into the mirror/their reflection, the self-admirer, the flower, the daffodil, the jonquil, the poet, the peots daffodil, the poets jonquil, the poets narcissus, the nargis, the pheasant, the pheasants eye, the findern, the findern(s) flower, the pinkster, the pinkster(s) lily, the lily, the tazetta, the narcissus tazetta, the narcissus jonquil, the (x) of Cephissus, the (x) of Liriope

(prn) who is narcissistic, (prn) who has npd, (prn) who has grandiose delusions/delusions of grandeur, (prn) who loves their reflection, (prn) who loves daffodils, (prn) who loves jonquils, (prn) who loves the nargis, (prn) who loves the pheasants eye, (prn) who loves the findern flower, (prn) who loves the pinkster lily, (prn) who was born to Cephissus, (prn) who was born to Liriope

[sunshinechay]

I finished the second chapter of Pit Babe. Honestly not too much happens in this one. Mostly just more pretty well written smut but we do get a bit more of a sense of who Babe and Charlie are, even if we don’t see really any of the supporting cast at all this chapter

Other chapters: Chap1

Thoughts under the cut

Pit Babe Chapter 2

-right away Charlie is called Babe’s alpha

-Charlie does have some qualms about the arrangement but overall is really enjoying himself. Mostly he doesn’t like how much he is dependent on Babe’s whims

-chapter immediately opens with another sex scene

-Charlie has started Babe Phi again. Either Babe doesn’t care anymore or he hasn’t noticed…or it’s just the translation. One of the three

-Charlie apparently has a big dick. When Babe mentions this, Charlie asks if he hates it. Babe just tells him to shut up

-Babe tells Charlie he’s cute when he obeys him, then when Charlie says he always obeys him, Babe points out he doesn’t when he gets “excited” to which Charlie points out that Babe likes it that way haha

-it’s literally the second chapter, the second sex scene and Babe has already broken his own no kissing rule

-apparently there is a time skip and they have been having sex for a while now

-Babe tells Charlie to come earlier than usual that night, finally offers to take Charlie to a competition, though he does he won’t let him compete

-they’re going to something called the midnight race

-everyone is shocked that Babe brings Charlie because usually he doesn’t bring anyone

-Babe decides that making out with Charlie in his car is more important than socializing to the point that when Charlie points out that he should go meet up with people, specifically with his friends Babe refuses, wanting to keep making out with Charlie

-Babe has found one (1) alpha that doesn’t smell and immediately becomes addicted to his dick

-Babe actually seems very concerned about people acting badly towards Charlie because Charlie is his sex friend. Charlie may also have trouble during the X-Hunter tryouts if they know he is with Babe, because people will think that is the reason rather than his ability

-someone comes to ask Babe if he wants to bet on the races and he actually calls her a demon when she tries to spy Charlie (who is hiding underneath a hat) and refuses to leave for a minute. That’s a little extreme Babe. She only doing a little cockblocking. It happens

-Charlie is worried about Babe racing in the Midnight Races because they are illegal races. Don’t worry Charlie, Babe has plot armour and this isn’t that kind of book haha

-Charlie sits in the car with Babe during his race. Is this supposed to be like when he races the Red team guy? At least Charlie isn’t the bet this time

-When the race is about to start, someone comes to talk to Babe, claiming to Babe’s ex. Babe is rather flippant with him while Charlie wonders if he is allowed to ask about it. Charlie is getting jealous already

-Babe’s ex says he misses him and Babe says he misses him as well…then follows up with his wishing in the new year that all of the bad people would disappear from his life. Babe continues to be savage

-“…Queen Race lifted a bright red cloth and waved it very sexily”…is she also breasting boobily? (This is not shade to the author/translator, this line is *chef’s kiss*)

-Babe speaks Spanish apparently? Very nice

-Charlie seems extremely scared to be in the car while Babe races

-The car is hit by the other cars a lot and Charlie is absolutely terrified. I thought you wanted to be a racer Charlie? (I mean to be fair, probably not on an illegal track such as this)

-Charlie praised Babe’s driving, thinking he would have died if anyone else was driving

-Babe wins the race and gives Charlie the bet money (over 100,000 Baht)

-Babe makes a joke that he is tired and Charlie has to take care of him. Charlie is adorably clueless as to what he means by that

-Cut to them having sex in Babe’s car in the middle of a field

-Charlie asks about the guy driving the green car mid sex. Not sure that’s really the appropriate time to be asking about your sex friend’s ex my bud

-Yet another reference to the fact that Babe has a sweet smell. This time it’s that even some omegas would give up when they smell him. This is some heavy handed foreshadowing without ever actually telling us the point of it. Is Babe some kind of hybrid between Alpha and Omega?

-Charlie wonders if he might fuck up one day and accidentally bite Babe

-Is now really a good time to be grilling Babe about his sexual history Charlie? You are literally fucking him against his car!!

-Charlie refers to Babe as his sugar daddy (not out loud but you know haha)

-Charlie says he has work to do the next day and asks if Babe will take him home. Only for Babe to snap at him about it and Charlie immediately agrees and wonders how he’s going to get home if he’s in the middle of nowhere

-Is Babe actually offering Charlie money to sleep (like actually sleep) at Babe’s condo with him? Yes I think he is

-Charlie does not know how to respond or if he should believe him

-Nope nevermind. Babe wants to have sex again when they get to his place

[tododeku-or-bust]

Hi, love all of your patrocilles fics, and I have been enjoying the headcanons on here.

Any headcanons for Kairos? He seemed so adorable in the hadesverse, and he was so adorable in Hotdogs.

"any headcanon for Kairos" psht BOY DO I! *Chowder voice* I'm so HAPPY y'all asked bout Calix, now Kairos, the Try Again Trio is in full effect!!

(in case anyone is new, Kairos is my Orpheus x Eurydice child oc)

Kairos:

He's a very shy child at first, but as he gets older he really grows into his own self confidence

Ten year old Phi once pushed another kid off a swing by his face bc that kid made Kairos cry and you will NOT make her best friend cry

He grew up in a home of singers, naturally he is a very gifted singer and musician himself. The whole family sings together while they play, so he grew up always thinking of a song

He is the Artsy type kid, the one that can rock any look. Androgynous, gothic, stylish, rock, Kairos is like a chameleon of looks

Kairos is the Brain Cell Holder of the Trio for their entire lives (and i don't mean this in terms of book intelligence; all three are levels of smart). But Philia is Impulsive™, Calix can be swayed, and therefore SOMEONE has to be the voice of reason (and occasional distrust)

Having written music beforehand, Kairos and Calix start a band in sophomore year. It SLAPS and people love their music. (He's willing to play the instrumentals when Calix starts writing his Yearn Songs later but he is NOT singing them)

Phi can't sing past an amateur at home level, BUT she can dance and she's their Number One Fan, so even then the trio sticks together

It baffles him that the only person who doesn't notice His Best Friend's love is his other Best Friend, but he's just there to listen

Kai's secret hobby: he likes bugs. Like a lot, he really likes to catalogue and learn about bugs. So while there's music, he could always go that future route 😂 (Phi hates bugs. He calls and info dumps about bugs and she hates it but she loves him so)

Thank you for enjoying the fics, too!

[artificialqueens]

learning to be silent (multi) — chapter two - Roza

[ summary ] : the grand prix qualifications are building splendidly even if it means a self discovery for some and nothing but piling towers of stress despite that, new bonds seem to happen every day when you're a professional figure skater.

[ author's note ] : this au has been a real fun one to write, as always, I enjoy introducing new characters when I can, next chapter will probably (definitely lmao) be huge since it'll be the short program and all that jazz, hope y'all enjoy xx — lily.

AO3 / My Tumblr / (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

— ✧*。

Alaska hadn't intended to spend her last day in the states for a week helping Trinity and Detox pack for France, though it was an excuse to ignore everything that was building up on her plate for Moscow, they all had reserved their own row on the plane to Paris, now it was just a matter of time and driving before they would be supporting their teammates in their journeys to the Grand Prix, stacking their points. Every step was one more day closer to Olympic qualifications in January.

"Jesus, how many suitcases do we need? We're only there for a week and not even skating at the event!" Trinity called out as she scrambled through Detox's closet, wearing her oversized jacket from Skate America, Alaska sitting on her best friend's bed, spread out and staring at her phone, unable to breathe at the moment, everything was beginning to crumble and she promised Sharon to not tell anyone but it was reaching a breaking point.

"Just get one big one and we'll have two bags, Alaska is coming to don't forget we have three people in the equation!" Detox yelled back before stepping into the room with an unopened bottle of sparkling wine, Trinity clapping at the sight of alcohol as she skipped over to her girlfriend who brushed their lips together, her hands brushing through her blonde hair though she pulled away cackling hearing Alaska's blantant sickness noises, wanting to throw up at the sight of her best friend since she started skating and Trinity trying to get it down in front of her.

Detox fixed her hair and huffed, blowing the small strands out of her face before she handed the bottle to Alaska who was an aficionado at opening caps with her long acrylics, "To Aquaria, Shea and Adore! Let's hope the best for all of them." She toasted simply, Trinity nodding, "I'll drink to that, Grand Prix here our girls come! Olympics ain't ready honey." The Floridian raised the bottle once Alaska got it to pop open with a small flick of her nails.

Rotating the bottle around one by one, Alaska took a long and hard swig, causing Detox to widen her eyes and take away the bottle, the older skater groaned. "Oh c'mon you're not my fucking mom." She snagged it once more before finally putting it down in front of Trinity who adjusted the sleeves of Detox's jacket.

"What's wrong? I know you too damn well, fess up." Detox's tone one of concern as well as aggression, she could tell when Alaska was in her tantrum stages. Trinity sat uncomfortably, not knowing if she should be involved in the conversation invade it took an extremely personal turn.

"Nothing, I'm fine, just had a bit of a fight today with Sharon is all."

Trinity moved towards the door, knowing that Detox and Alaska had their own code of when they wanted to be alone. "I'm gonna go and get some food, I'll leave y'all be." The skater shut the door gently even at the dismay of Detox who's eyes focused on Alaska whose eyelids drooped after putting the half empty bottle on Detox's cabinet shelf right near her bed.

"What the hell happened?"

"Girl, we're packing, let's not do this now, please." The affirmative tone in her voice telling Detox to back off and focus on what she was currently doing, though Alaska's head was definitely elsewhere, a minute later as they folded up another dress the blonde finally broke down in tears, at first letting the sniffling come and playing it off as allergies or some bullshit like that.

"I'm retiring, I'm fucking retiring at the end of this season, I can't take all the stress and pain any longer and seeing Aquaria and all the new seniors do so good out a real fucking gap in my confidence, I give up!"

"Alaska..."

"No! Don't fucking tell me I'm overreacting and don't tell me that's how the skating world is now, I know that and I can't take it anymore."

Detox dropped her skates on her bed before sighing aloud, knowing there was no use in even attempting to knock sense into or out of Alaska during her breakdowns, she just needed support: not as if the decision was something people liked to hear, to make.

Opening her arms Alaska looked up and immediately jumped into them, Detox tightening the grip around her shoulders, patting her back as she sobbed all over her jacket with no remorse, she could always wash it later. Fighting back tears she spoke up, not ever wanting to hear the fact Alaska, her best friend since they started skating, was retiring: "Are you really sure, I'm not gonna push it but are you atleast gonna try for your last Olympics?"

Alaska took home bronze in her first Olympics, a truly incredible feat, she proved to everyone even back then that as long as you had passion, drive, charisma and raw talent you could win a medal no matter if you were skating to Vivaldi or Bon Jovi, which she did.

"Of course I am you shady bitch, gotta knock you off somehow."

Detox couldn't help but completely lose it on her lap, slapping her on the stomach before letting her head rest, "What am I gonna possibly even do without you? Truthfully, who else will drink three entire bottles of Gatorade and almost piss on the ice—" Alaska yelled, her cheeks becoming hot remembering the indescribable amount of embarrassment she felt during her warm up skate of World's back in 2017.

"What does Sharon think?"

It shouldn't have made Alaska's lips twist when her name was mentioned, she knew it was coming since Sharon was her coach and her worst kept secret after all. A muscle in her jaw seemed to twitch as she spoke, "She wasn't very happy to say the least but my career, promised her I'd of course try for the Olympics."

* * *

"I'm retiring."

Alaska whispered the words she honestly hoped would never have to come out of her own mouth, when she was still young, not as young as the rest but she still had a good amount of years left for herself.

Her tears falling down her cheeks one after another, trying to speak but not letting any words come out before Sharon's fingertips brushed her eyes, wiping them in utter confusion, "What do you— what do you mean you're retiring?" Lifting her face with her hands, being sure to make direct eye contact with the blonde who was in the middle of either a mental breakthrough or breakdown.

"I can't do this anymore, I can't compete with all the new seniors, I'm reaching my breaking point and you being my coach has been both the greatest and worst experience I've had in this sport."

She didn't respond, a bit offended by the poor choice of words however. "Worst? Fucking jesus, I know I retired earlier than expected but I wanted to coach, especially since Aquaria was getting older, I wanted to care for her and look out for you!" She snarled out of anger, a flush creeping out on her face once she noticed Alaska so generously hanging onto her every word by a thread.

"Sharon, I'm just losing touch and I know you're supposed to be my coach. I know you're hard on me because it's your job and because we've been together since we were teenagers but anytime you and I sit in that kiss and cry and you stare at me blankly, your eyes look so disappointed and want to scream!"

"I'm never, ever disappointed in you."

Alaska winced at the unexpected rough diction in Sharon's voice, she never looked so terrifying and serious in her entire life. Granted she had known the blonde for only god knows how long and had seen every little piece of the puzzle to her, expecting all the unexpected.

"I love you Sharon, I love you dammit and I thought about it for weeks, this isn't a personal vendetta, you know how this sport pays my bills and keeps me alive but I want to retire and just help you with the girls and finally settle down with you like I always wanted."

Sharon's face contorted, unable to express whether she was honored that Alaska was for once, being so serious about their relationship, whatever that was— or, completely saddened by her will to just throw away her entire life and success to just be another coach, she had so much untapped potential even if she was a bit older than the average girl's nowadays.

"You're so talented and have so much to give, you're not even the oldest American competiting, remember how Chad retired when he was 39? I mean, he wasn't even pushing it either." It was true that she skated a while, still even did tours time to time, she had completely pioneered the skating world as did her students which of course, had Sharon in the line up.

"I just don't want you to do this purely for me or because you're feeling stressed, because that's the reality of the sport." She took Alaska's hand in her own, squeezing firmly as her words left with baited breath, "I will never force you to keep skating but as your coach, I'd be so fucking upset if you did."

Her lips pressed a kiss to Alaska's ring finger, "I'll always be here and be ready, skating won't." A hand crept to Sharon's cheek as the younger blonde smiled gently, feeling a genuine stir in her emotions, her heart beating twice as fast whenever Sharon kissed her.

"I know but, I think it's my time to be able to relax after all these years, I can always be an annoying commentator." She grinned, lightening the mood as her ears heard Sharon whisper a faint, "I love you." under her breath before laughing at her out of time response, pressing their lips together and caressing her face.

"If you promise to be at the Olympics, I can maybe say aloud that I'll handle this better."

"Of course I'm gonna try to qualify dumb bitch! You really think I'd just give up after finally getting allowed to do an Arrowsmith song for my routine? In an all black and grey costume? I promise you I'm gonna kill that shit."

* * *

"So, if I may add an interlude..." Her words spiraling back to her usual extended holds, "What's the deal with you and Miss Taylor, I know clearly you guys are comfortable outside of the rink but, is it actually official?"

Detox pondered her words a bit, not exactly knowing how to respond.

Her and Trinity in the rink had always been buddy-buddy with eachother starting three years ago, Trinity had trained with Agnes (who they all called Peppermint since their junior skating years) a while before making the move into Sharon and Chad's training camps, she fit in almost instantaneously and caught the attention of Detox as fast as she did Chad who saw endless supply of potential when it came to her style of skating.

Alaska coughed obnxiously, signaling she overthinking far too much. But what was she really supposed to say especially with Alaska, who she adored with her entire soul and heart and always would, who everyone knew was just about the biggest tease and the quickest to break secrets when simply asked, you didn't even have to coddle her for them.

"She's very beautiful and talented, has a great personality and we're just both seeing where we're going, we kiss here and there but mostly it's just in an awkwardly endearing phase, we don't know exactly what we want either."

"So basically you're finally into a girl and just checking out from fear and delusion that she doesn't like you back even though all she does is steal your jackets and excitedly smile whenever you come into the room. Match made in heaven if you ask me."

They toyed with eachother's hair and hands before Detox threw a pillow at her face, "C'mon, we have to be at the airport tomorrow and if you don't wake up I'm just gonna leave without your sorry ass."

*.✧

"We're here!" Yelled Adore in the back of the large car, her legs sparwled onto Bianca's lap, the coach dazing in and out of sleep having been wide awake during the plane ride there, she had never been so sober in her entire damn life even when she was still a competitive skater.

"We are and thank god for that, I was about to fall asleep in this fucking rental." Bianca spoke up with genuine honesty, a yawn leaving her lips before she stepped out the car, reaching out her hands so that Adore could easily jump from the car.

"Hallelujah for that." Bob grumbled under her breath before taking her carry on from the back of the van as Shea wondered off into the hotel, that was conveniently placed beside the convention center and arena where they would skate and then have their Gala afterwards, the best part besides winning gold and racking up points for the Grand Prix.

Shea hadn't had a clue of what time it exactly was, far too lazy to even pick her phone from her pocket as she stumbled through the doorway and took in the sight: being in Europe wasn't new, she had traveled many times for competitions but she had yet to truly be in France for a Grand Prix assignment, the years she had been a senior she either was in China, Japan or Canada— it would be her first time truly getting some time, even if her focus was to win a medal, to beat her fellow competitors, she never turned down a good few hours of walking through a new city, buying overly expensive touristy souvenirs and she always promised herself to buy some kind of local chocolate, she could restrain herself pretty well for diets and competition days but otherwise she definitely wasn't one to turn down a bar of chocolate.

Hearing the usual cooperation banter didn't phase her much, she knew people had a job to do but a familiar face caught her eye almost immediately, that distinct face shape and sweet smile. Thick blonde curls hiding her steel blue-grey eyes, sported of course in the Russian national team jacket, this had to be Sasha.

The Sasha Velour.

Her heart was racing at a million miles an hour, all the affirmative respect and distinguishing of titles made it seem like she was old when she was indeed a year younger than Shea in the first place, it was more meant as a title with sentimental value. She was beautiful as always and had a great reputation to uphold and did so with honesty and a tolerant mindset, two things the Russian figure skating association was exactly known for, despite how dirty of a sterotype that sounded.

The American waited patiently as she seemed to be sorting some issues with her keycard, requesting she be given another one. The conversation tuned out in Shea's mind until she felt a brushing and gentle hand against her shoulders and a wide smile from Sasha, the touch making the girl jump, completely frazzled. "Oh I'm so sorry!" She whimpered, unknowingly holding her hands to make sure they weren't shaking, "I'm so sorry."

"Oh c'mon it's okay girl." She immediately bit her tongue, this wasn't Adore or Trinity whom she was causal with, she had nothing but respect for Sasha and felt nothing but maddening anxiety in their one minute interaction, of course they had seen eachother before when competiting but not as if they had time to converse during or after the matter. "I mean Sasha, shit, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm perfectly fine with what you said, I know I'm supposed to be a bit more rough and tough since I'm Russian and all but, I promise you I'm not as bad as everyone else." A subtle wink leaving the corner of her eyelids as she placed a hand on her hip, "It's really wonderful to finally meet you."

Shea didn't want to say she had completely felt her face get hot, red and her entire body froze when she spoke to her but that was exactly what was happening and it was driving her insane, she practically kicked herself for being such a fool. "It's so great to meet you to! You're so talented and so gorgeous and I've never felt more pressure to skate beside someone."

"Please, you are far too sweet for your own good."

A smile lit up her face as Sasha chuckled in response to her growing confidence, "What are you smiling for? It's completely true, I saw your routine at the American national's and almost had a nervous breakdown knowing I have to compete against you and your friend, Aquaria, it is an honor to meet Sharon's daughter? I believe she is..." The sentence trailing before Shea shook her head before also nodding the more she thought about it, "Well she is but not by birth."

"And that's okay, family isn't always blood, it's about the people you choose in your life to be a part of you."

That was either extraordinary deep or Shea was far too smitten with finally speaking with her skating crush of years, this was the moment she had been craving.

"You are absolutely correct, have you met any of the other girls yet? I can always introduce you to my squad of course." Sasha clapped her hands together, slinging a backpack over her back that was a light baby blue, most likely where she housed her skates. "I would love to but I'm going to go and get some private time, come with me!" She mumbled under her breath as they held eachother's wrists.

Shea instantly nodded, not even thinking of the girls, "If you're okay with it." Sasha rolled her eyes, texting someone quickly on her phone before sliding it into the back pocket of her leggings, "Of course I am, my coach doesn't define my life, I already told her I'm gonna be going out to find a rink anyway so, Shea Couleé..." The name rolled right off her tongue in a way that made the older girl completely melt into her hands as she interlocked elbows, "Let's go!"

It would seem odd for two girls of rival countries to just wonder off in the time of sunset, going to the definitely empty ice rink nearby the arena, together as if they were teammates and didn't just formally introduce themselves.

They had barely wandered out of the building when Adore recieved a text telling her to not snitch if Bob asked where she was, explaining best she could in the time she had allotted trying to walk and talk with Sasha that she was going to go and skate, she had taken her bag with her anyway. Shea telling Sasha she needed a quick minute to tell her friend where she would be at.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Adore Delano 🍕

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—

Don't snitch on me bitch, I'm going off somewhere near the hotel, I really wanna practice.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Do you actually or is someone catching your attention? 👀

If I said it was Sasha Velour would it make you back off lol

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sasha?! The fucking russian girl who's won literally every damn 🏅???

Yup and she's way prettier in person...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Oh Jesus, I won't snitch tho! I'm a good friend like that bitch <3

—

"You coming?" Sasha's irresistible smile spearing her straight into the heart. Not as if she would say no to her newfound friend and fellow skater, how could she ever even refuse the chance to spend some alone time with the Sasha Velour, her curls bouncing off her face.

"Absolutely."

*.✧

Sharon wasn't sure what to expect when warm-up training had begun taking shape the day before their first day, the short program for ladies beginning tomorrow though they did have a chance to cheer for the American ice dancers who were performing their short program's yesterday, happy to see that they still had it: scoring a silver medal and having two more teams in the top five.

After the medal ceremony, Aquaria decided to stay with Shea in their hotel room, taking the night off in the comfort of their bed's and the giant flat screen, ordering whatever food they wanted and could find off the hotel service menu.

"Aquaria, you're under rotating that quad again, you know how harsh they're going to be on you now, look at these mistakes and fix them." The words leaving her lips gently, fixing her hair as Aquaria took it all in with a nod, adjusting her jacket's zipper before she hummed, skating off. It was difficult to process all the cameras, she had been photographed and interviewed of course but most people focused on the senior level, it wasn't as if junior competitions were sold out and had photographers everywhere, this was going to be an entire different environment even if she grew up with media in her face already.

"Well, well!" A voice spoke from her behind her, Sharon's entire body running completely cold. It didn't matter what her profession was or how old she was, she could recognize certain voices anywhere she went, she turned on her sneakers, not feeling a need to wear heel's in a damn ice rink.

"Of course it's you..." She grumbled knowing that the utter disappointment in her voice was completely visible though she played on with a fake smile, giving a quaint and polite handshake and kiss of the cheek to Phi Phi, who looked fantastic, the fake tanning did her horrible and Sharon was beyond happy she had stopped a few years ago, and seemed to be comfortably warm in her large knitted white sweater.

"How are you?" She asked, her hands in her pockets, acting sweet for the camera's, it wasn't right to fight like cats and dogs when there was media and their skaters were just attempting to focus. Besides, what had happened when they were competitors was simply past them at this point atleast to Sharon who almost never lost a single medal to Phi Phi, there was definitely some resentment from the latter.

They hadn't always fought, in fact they had gotten along splendidly when they first met at World Championship's almost twelve years ago, neither of them medaled though Sharon had come close with her fourth place accomplishment but it was difficult to compete when Bianca, Morgan and Jinkx were still knocking everyone out of place, seasoned skaters already.

Phi Phi had been her training partner when she decided to stay a year with their old coach, she represented Philippines, which she explained was a huge deal to her, being the first women and the second to ever skate for the southeast asian country. Her temperament was always an issue with her, coach having to repeat stuff and talk over her yelling, that would also be projected into Sharon when she lashed out, claiming she only scored higher on her components because she had the ideal skater body and aesthetic attributed to the sport.

"Oh I'm wonderful, just here to see how my skater does, the usual." It wasn't much until the words faded and she had to ask about Aquaria, Sharon's eyes glimmering with absolute love towards her adopted daughter, "She's fantastic, has a quad and everything, they're definitely way more expecting of them compared to us even Alaska complains with all the new elements they keep adding, I think we retired at a good space." She joked though Phi Phi didn't laugh, she only nodded.

"And Alaska? She still with her boyfriend? I know she's skating with you now, wonder if you still liked her after all these years."

Sharon wanted to shoot herself for even bringing her up, she knew it would immediately cause tension in her body and make her confess more than she wanted: honesty was the best policy even if it was a bitch and it had to be said in front of one of the people she disliked most.

"She's not, she lives with me now."

The pursed expression across Phi Phi's lips was enough to signal she already knew the answer, she just wanted to hear it said aloud. "I had a feeling you two would always end up together, I mean for god's sakes, as if that wasn't fucking obvious." Her fingertips brushed her sweater under her pants, adjusting the laces of her shoes, "She's getting older to, she's only a few years younger, this her last season you think?"

"Phi Phi, Stop."

"Sharon please, I'm asking simple questions, you getting defensive about your girlfriend isn't going to help either of us at this qualification."

Her body swayed, their eye contact setting flames ablaze again in old rivarly, it had been years since they last physically saw eachother, every other time they stayed away or kept it formal and only found out news from Social Media, as most did.

"Just cause you're training your daughter—" her fingers putting air quotes around the word which only made Sharon want to absolutely break her knee with a piece of metal, Harding style. "Doesn't mean she's any good at a senior level or as good as her coach, she's now with competition unlike before, she has a lot to learn like they all do."

"I know that, she's been training hard and I believe in her, of course she has competition, it wouldn't be a Grand Prix if she didn't."

"Well, we will see how she does, I hope she has a good experience though!" The doubt of Aquaria winning shining in her reply, the snicker hidden deep in her throat waiting to come out lodging before she gently coughed and adjusted her posture, "Good luck, genuinely."

"Good luck to you to."

Can't wait to see the look on your face when Aquaria fucking pummels your skaters score into the ground.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It Were Summer

Pairing: College!Bucky x reader

Summary: You met Bucky in Italy—a summer abroad with sweet gelato and even sweeter words. You never thought you’d see him again, and you were right. Because the Bucky at this frat party, the one with the smirk and the wandering eyes, was nothing like the one you knew. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still completely in love with you.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Frat!Bucky is a jerk, a wistful summer romance, angst, minor physical violence and gross men (not Bucky), mentions of alcohol

a/n: This is for @barnesafterglow​‘s 1k writing challenge!! Inspired by the prompt: “and i was right there beside him all summer long, and then the time we woke up to find that summer gone”. I love you Tiff, congrats!! 🤍🤍

You can follow my library blog @pellucid-library​​​​ for fic update notifications 🤍

Masterlist

~~

It was bad enough that Wanda had dragged you to this thing. 

Your sweater was hanging off of your shoulder at a weird angle, unwilling to sit straight on your body as people rammed into you every twenty seconds. The cup in your hand was smashed and dripping as you clutched it tightly between tense fingers; you had yet to even take a single sip. Your skin was sticky with sweat and spilled alcohol and your head was pounding with the bass of the speakers and you were alone in a room of dozens instead of tucked into bed a few miles away.

All of that was bad, but the worst part was that he was here. 

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Buck, as Steve liked to call him. President of Sigma Epsilon—possibly the douchiest frat on campus—and infamous for sleeping with any girl that batted her eyes at him the right way. 

Or, as you knew him before the start of senior year, Bucky from Brooklyn. 

When you caught his eye at this stupid party in a room full of people you had never met, however, he certainly didn’t look like Bucky from Brooklyn. No, that Bucky was sweet and let his head fall back when he laughed. He cupped your face in his hands when you smiled and kissed you until your lips went numb. His touches were gentle and his words were adoring and he was everything that this Bucky could never be. 

You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t met him until last summer; even though you’d been going to this school for the past three years, your circle was small and it had nothing to do with fraternities. It wasn’t until Wanda, Alpha Phi extraordinaire, replied to your roommate posting that you were finally exposed to the wonderful world of Greek life. And thus, exposed to the real ‘Bucky from Brooklyn’ that you just about fell in love with on your study abroad program last summer. 

And what a summer that had been. 

You could still taste the wisps of sunshine and citrus when you thought about it—still feel the warm breeze that flitted through linen and caressed under clothes on sandy beaches. You could still feel Bucky’s touch as he held you, live music on the street flowing through swaying bodies and lighting up cobblestone roads. And you could still remember the way he sounded when he told you he might love you if you were anywhere else, the words a reminder that a summer fling was just that—a fling. 

The words were necessary though; they helped you come to terms with the fact that you would never see Bucky again. Until tonight, his arm wrapped around another girl the same way he had held you, his lips nearly always touching the rim of his red solo cup. 

He hadn’t even reacted when you locked eyes. 

Which simply affirmed the thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind the second you saw him by the beer pong table: Bucky Barnes would never have given you a second glance if you met under any other circumstances. If you met in a lecture hall, he would have asked you for homework and ghosted you right after. If you bumped into him on campus, he would have cursed you out for spilling his coffee. If you had tried to get into this party without Wanda, you would have been turned away at the door. 

But with the backdrop of the Italian countryside, Bucky Barnes had fallen into the illusion that your sweaters and your early nights were somehow desirable. Well—a frat party was certainly not the Italian countryside, and Bucky was certainly not looking at you the same way he had a few weeks ago. 

“Hey, bitch!” Wanda slurred, a boisterous arm thrown over your shoulders. “You look so… stiff. I think we gotta fix that!” she sang out. Her cup pressed to your lips. “Drink! I promise I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.” 

The smile you offered her was more of a grimace, but she was too drunk to notice as you pushed the cup away. “I’m already drunk,” you lied, yelling over the music.

“Whose trunk?” 

“No, I said I’m already drunk.” 

She giggled, gripping your chin in her hand and pressing your cheeks together. “You’re so cute. Like a little baby.” And then she was gone, lost in the crowd and living for it. 

You could feel his eyes on you again. You were leaned against the far wall of the living room and probably looked as miserable as you felt, and he wouldn’t stop stealing glances. Which just made it worse because why wouldn’t he just come and talk to you. 

Silly question. You knew why.

Wanda had given you the rundown of the Sigma Epsilon guys on the uber ride over. None of them stood out until she mentioned Bucky, and then your heart fractured a little because Bucky couldn’t be that common of a name. 

“Bucky Barnes,” she had said, eyes wide and accusing, even when he wasn’t there to defend himself. “Stay away from that one. Literally the biggest jerk I’ve ever met. Can’t keep a girlfriend and doesn’t want to keep a girlfriend. He’s made like all of friends cry. And that’s after he’s slept with them of course.” 

But he had kept a girlfriend. You. Last summer. And he had made you feel a type of serenity you thought didn’t exist; he touched you as if you were precious and he looked at you as if you held the world. 

And now, he was acting like you were just another stranger at a party. 

You dropped your gaze down to the amber liquid rolling around in your dented cup. You had one arm crossed around your middle and the other one creating the distraction—Bucky would send you a look from over the rim of his cup, you would pretend the alcohol spinning in circles was the most interesting thing in the room. 

This was stupid. You should just leave, but you didn’t want to abandon Wanda. She was a lot to handle, but she was a good friend and she was trying really hard to help you put yourself out there—something you admitted you were trying to do this school year. 

It was just unfortunate that the first frat party you went to was a glaring reminder of your epic, summer romance. And not in a good way. 

You pushed yourself off of the wall and set out to find your roommate. You’d tell her what was going on and she would be more than understanding; she was the one warning you to stay away from Bucky in the first place. She probably wouldn’t comprehend a single word that came out of your mouth right now, but you’d have the conversation again over brunch. 

Shoulders and elbows pressed you into the crowd, the music blaring and disorienting as you peaked over heads to find Wanda. People stepped on your shoes and brushed against your back until you finally broke free of them and found yourself at the base of the stairs—the epicenter of making out, apparently. 

You weren’t sure if these people all knew each other or if they partnered up based on their intoxication level, but you knew you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. But as there was a chance Wanda had gone upstairs, you gripped the handrail and tried to sidestep the couple on the first step. 

You didn’t make it far; a firm hand on your bicep had you yanked back down before you could even find the stability to take another step. Your back found a biting pain in the wall you were slammed against and the breath on your neck was jarring and unwanted. 

“You’re new,” the breath puffed out. “I saw you come in with that Aphi girl. You wanna tell me where you’ve been all these years?” 

You pushed against the man, forearms jutting out at his chest. “Get off of me.” 

“Aw, where’s the fun in that? You come to a frat party and you don’t even wanna make a few friends?” 

“I said get off,” you grunted. Your arms were now adorned with his fingers as he wrapped them around you; your back was pressed further into the wall. “Seriously, I’m not interested. Leave me alone.”

He laughed, the scent of alcohol burning your nose. “I like a challenge.” 

You were a second away from raising your knee up to make a quick getaway, when the frat guy towering over you was thrown to the ground. He stumbled, shoulder forced harshly into hardwood until his stupid, screen printed t-shirt was flat against the ground. His cup went flying shortly after, the clear liquid soaking into his jeans. 

“You really think you’re hot shit, don’t you, Todd?” 

You didn’t think you’d ever hear that voice again—the one with the raspy edge and the boyish charm that made your chest feel tight. The voice that told you you were beautiful under the twinkling lights at that winery you got too drunk at. The whisper that held a weight you weren’t prepared to carry, lips pressed close to your ear until the pressure was purposeful. 

“Get the fuck up, man. I’m not playing around.” The voice was more harsh than you remembered it to be; it was cruel and uninviting and it wasn’t there for your comfort. “Yeah, stand up and get out.” 

Bucky. 

When you were finally able to tear your gaze away from the struggling form on the ground, it was Bucky that stood there, seething and tense. The man behind the voice. 

“What the hell is your problem, Bucky?” Todd, you figured, grumbled. His hand was pressed up against his nose, the bruise already forming from its smack against the ground. 

Bucky’s jaw ticked. He hadn’t looked at you yet. “You’re my problem. Get out before I call Steve over and tell him what you were doing.” 

“Really? Steve? What, you gotta crush on this chick or somethin’? Since when did you become Mr. Moral Compass?” 

A chair shuffled against cheap carpet. A cabinet in the kitchen creaked. Removing your eyes from the side of Bucky’s face, you noticed that most of the room—if not all—was transfixed on the scene by the stairs. 

Bucky wasn’t aware yet, too angry and zeroed in on the man hobbling up from the floor. You didn’t even think he’d noticed that his drink was on the ground, liquid filling in wooden crevices. He only snapped his eyes up when a small sound escaped the back of your throat; he looked around and took in the scene—the attention. 

“She your girl, Barnes?” 

A beat, and then, “‘Course she’s not my girl. The hell are you going on about?” 

It shouldn’t hurt this much. You hadn’t even expected to get within ten feet of Bucky at this party, so it shouldn’t hurt that he wouldn’t look at you and that he spit those words out with such disgust. But your chest burned at the fire in his tone, the way his lips formed the sentiment creating an uncomfortable heat that would take years to tame. 

Because those lips had been on you. They had kissed the warmth from your cheeks by the window of the too-small hotel room in Venice. They pressed to yours in a sticky mess of gelato and giggles on a beach you forgot the name of. Those lips that acted as if they didn’t know you had worshiped you on foreign sheets and in between back alley walls. They made promises lost between breaths that you would only find again when you were old and gray, like whispers thrown down a tunnel of memories. 

So yeah—it hurt.

“Then why’re you on my ass about her?” 

You had almost forgotten that you were there; so lost in the memory of the Bucky you had known, you had removed yourself from the one standing directly in front of you. He had shifted in your dissociation, blocking you from Todd’s view and causing you to blink at his back. 

You watched his shoulders tense as he replied, “I’m not on your ass about anything other than us getting suspended. You go around flinging yourself at chicks and we’re gonna get reported.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Todd laughed, slumping against the far wall with a drunken smile. “You’ve never been pissed about that shit. You just don’t wanna admit that the great Bucky Barnes is finally whipped.” 

“I’m not into her. I don’t even know her.”

“So it’d be cool if I took her upstairs then? Asked her what was under that pretty sweater?”  

“You better stop fucking talking,” Bucky spit out, hand twitching in a way that made you suck in a breath. You held it there, letting the pressure build as Bucky ran the hand down his face and shot out, “Just get out. I’m not gonna ask again.” 

“That didn’t really seem like an answer—” 

Bucky cut him off with a grunt. “Yeah, Todd, go ahead and take her upstairs. But do it when we're not throwing the biggest party of the year. I have no idea who this chick is and I don’t really give a damn what you two do, but I do care about the frat, got it?” You released the breath with shaky lungs, lip quivering unwillingly. “Just good fucking luck getting anywhere near her when she’s dressed like that.” 

The dam broke. 

Everyone that was watching the scene before grew disinterested as the tears made an appearance in your waterline; no one wants to watch a drunk girl cry, even if you weren’t actually drunk. That, and apparently Bucky had reached his ‘asshole quota��� and they were all satisfied by his response. Bucky would never like a girl like you anyway. That much was painfully obvious. 

In an attempt to save yourself from any more embarrassment, you slid against the wall and made a beeline for the front door. Bucky caught your wrist before you could even get a foot away, and you were just about over people grabbing you tonight. 

You wrenched yourself from his grip. “Don’t touch me. And get the fuck away from me.” 

“Y/n—” he began, but the sound curdled in your veins.

“Thought you didn’t know me,” you seethed, cheeks glistening under the red lights of the room. “Thought I was just some prude threatening your party.” 

“It’s not like that—where are you even going?” 

“Home,” you simply replied, your shoulder harshly pressing into his chest as you brushed past him.

“You shouldn’t drive. You’ve been—” 

“I don’t really think you get a say in anything I do.” 

“Will you stop cutting me off? Just hang on and lemme—” 

You found yourself in his grip for the second time that night, his arm wrapped around your stomach, his strength raising you off of the ground just enough to not let you walk on your own. You pushed at his forearm in a futile attempt to press away from him, but you’d been in this position before and knew you were stuck. He’d done it at that museum you refused to leave last month, a teasing remark about wanting you in bed lingering in your hair. 

Now, he was lifting you off of the ground to maneuver you through a crowded, sweaty party. And people saw. You knew it, he knew it, and yet, he didn’t stop until he reached the front door and politely asked the girl leaning against it to please move out of the way. She threw you an odd look and then threw another one at Bucky, but Bucky only offered her a charming smile. 

She would definitely be telling her friends about this. 

The door creaked and the tears on your face stung with the frigid temperature outside and you began kicking your legs because being outside meant more chances to get away from Bucky. He held you firmly to his chest with ease anyway, only grunting a little when one of your kicks connected with his shin. 

“Let me go,” you struggled. “I was trying to leave, anyway. You didn’t need to throw me out of your stupid party.” 

Bucky paused, letting your feet finally meet the grass by the oak tree in the lawn. “Throw you out? I wasn’t tryna throw you out, sweetheart. I’ve been tryna talk to you all night.”

You whipped around in his arms, pushing against his chest until your back audibly met bark. “What are you talking about—’trying to talk to me all night’. Is that what you call pretending that I don’t exist and then humiliating me in front of all those people?” 

“I’ve been looking at you all night! Every time I tried to get you to go upstairs you looked back down at your damned cup. Every time.” 

You couldn’t believe his idiocy. It was as if coming back home had sucked all of the common sense from his body, as if just living in this frat house made his IQ drop. 

“And, please tell me Bucky, why would I want to go anywhere with you when you had some girl hanging off of you all night? After you haven’t called me a single time since we got back home?” you posed, head cocked to the side in a cruel sort of anger. 

Bucky scoffed. “You’re the one that broke up with me. Remember that?” 

You blinked, hard. Words escaped you, throat dry and mouth agape. “No, I didn’t.” 

A long pause. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t break up with you. I called you. Multiple times since I got back to campus.” 

“No, you did,” Bucky whispered, like it burned his tongue. “You did. Because I never would’ve—I mean, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” 

You bit into the skin of your bottom lip, your dried tears a sour taste in your mouth. Of course you hadn’t broken up with Bucky. You left the program early for family reasons, but you never broke up with Bucky. He was the one that ignored your calls—the one that practically cemented the end of your relationship with his parting words. 

“I wish we would’ve met another way.” 

Because meeting you in Italy made you a different person, apparently. 

“I’m aware,” you countered, the sarcasm not quite as prevalent as you had hoped. “Look, Bucky, I get it, okay? You’re some big man on campus with a frat and a reputation and I just don’t fit into that. I didn’t mean to encroach on your space or whatever. I’ve never even been to a frat before this one and I can promise you, I won’t be back. So I’ll leave and you can go in there and tell all your friends about the crazy chick that wouldn’t put out and keep on pretending that I don’t exist.” 

Bucky didn’t move an inch, feet rooted in the unkempt grass of the lawn. The song changed inside, something much louder, more bass. You spared him a glance from the corner of your eye, and were met with the posture of a broken man. Not what you were expecting. You uncrossed your arms. 

“I didn’t get any calls. I checked as soon as you got back to the states. Every day, actually,” he admitted. 

“Well—” you began, lost in the awkwardness of the night air. “I called you. Not that it matters. You’ve made your opinion of me quite clear. I’m not really sure why we’re dragging this out.” 

“Because I miss you,” he said, clearer than anything else tonight. “Because I thought you broke up with me and I didn’t want those guys in there to know who you were when you weren’t already mine.” 

“I was yours.” 

Bucky lost his breath behind an anguished shake of his head. “You still are. Always gonna be.” 

You pushed yourself up from the tree, facing Bucky head on for the first time since Italy. “I’m not sure what happened after I went home—what… assumptions and decisions you made. But I’m not going to be a secret you keep for your reputation. This guy—” you raised your hands, tracking over his body “—this Bucky that’s already danced with three girls since I got here and acted like he didn’t know me? He’s not the same one that I met over the summer. 

“This Bucky is going to ask me to sneak up the stairs so no one sees me just so we can hook up in his bedroom. He’s not the one that knocked on my door every morning for a week straight just so I’d talk to him. And it’s fine. It was a summer fling, right? But this isn’t the life I want. There’s a reason I’ve avoided these things for so long.” 

“What are ‘these things’?” He spoke with an uncomfortable rasp to his voice, like somehow you were the one that was hurting him. 

“You. This party. All of it. I’m not really interested in a constant back and forth relationship where you tell me you love me and then blow me off the next day.” 

“I didn’t get any of your calls,” he repeated. “Must’ve dropped since they were international.” 

“I heard you the first time.” 

“No—you didn’t. I didn’t get any of your calls and I miss you. I thought you broke up with me.” 

Bucky took a step forward, and then another, until he was close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from his body. He still smelled like how you remembered—like bergamot and a hint of citrus. No alcohol. You flickered your eyes up to his in confusion and desperate for something, maybe comfort, and were met with an intense gaze that sent you nerve endings into a frenzy. 

And it clicked. He looked at you like that back then—last month. Like he wanted to kiss you so bad that he ached for it. Like you were an answer to something he didn’t even know he was questioning, a home in a place so far from everything he had known. And you weren’t in Italy this time; Bucky was looking at you like this at home, and he still smelled the same.

“But you said—I don’t understand, because you said…” 

Bucky finally touched you in a way you remembered, delicately tipping your face up with his finger curled under your chin. “What did I say?” he asked, low and adoring, willing to give you anything. “Because, sweetheart, whatever it was, I can promise you I didn’t mean it like that. You’re all I’ve thought about since you sat next to me on our flight back in May. Can’t get you outta my head.” 

“When I was leaving you said you wished you met me in a different way. Like you—like you didn’t want me once we got back here. And I thought I was looking into it wrong but then you didn’t answer the phone so I knew I was right.” You let the words tumble from your lips when you promised you never would, but Bucky was looking at you like he used to, and you couldn't seem to help yourself. 

Bucky’s fingers traced your jaw, moving softly against your skin before trailing up to get lost in your hair. He cupped your cheek in his palm, relishing in the feel of you, committing the act to memory. He tutted to himself, furrowing his brows with a shake of his head. 

“I meant that I wish I’d met you sooner, like at school. I’m a business major, sweetheart—terrible with words.” 

You almost laughed. “But you never called me.” 

His thumb brushed against dried tears. “I was waiting for your call. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kinda too good for me. Thought you might’ve figured that out once you got back home.” 

“But then inside—” you continued, almost gasping for breath when Bucky’s other hand came up to fully encase your features. You weren’t even sure if he was listening to you, his eyes soft as he took you in, as if you were the most important thing he’s held in his hands. “—inside you told all those people you didn’t know me. You were cruel and everyone was looking at me like I was pathetic.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he shushed, head dipped down to reach your eyes. “I never woulda done that if I’d known you were still mine. I was just trying to get that asshole away from you.” 

You shook your head, still unconvinced. “I told you I’m not going to be a secret. You already announced that you want nothing to do with me so I’m not really sure about this—” 

Bucky pulled away and tugged at your wrist in one fluid movement, yanking you over the roots of the oak tree until you were securely in front of him. He propelled you forward despite your protests, hands on your waist in a fond grip that sent a comfortable shiver down your spine. 

He reached over your shoulder and flung the front door open, pushing you back into the mass of bodies and alcohol until you were in a more open area. His hands never left your waist as he glanced around the room, and you were suddenly very afraid that Bucky planned on fixing his mistake now. In the middle of this party. 

“Bucky,” you hissed, already sensing eyes on you. “Bucky, this is not what I meant.” 

“I got this, sweetheart. Don’t even worry about it,” he spoke by your ear, determination and a smile trickling past bumping music. 

“I wasn’t worried. I think an apology and a few days of groveling would—” 

“Hey! Todd!” 

If the party wasn’t already boiling, the warmth seeping into your cheeks would have been enough to fight off any leftover chill from the fall air outside. Todd whipped around with wide eyes, clearly afraid that his assault from earlier wasn’t finished. And in a way, it wasn’t.

Bucky tugged your back closer to his chest, shouting over your head until the group by the kitchen was looking as well. “This is my girl, got it? So you stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass next time.” 

Todd’s eyes shot down to you before flitting back up to Bucky in a fearful kind of frenzy. He was obviously just teasing before, but the fact that he had actually messed with his fraternity president’s girl made him visibly pale; they had just stopped hazing him as a pledge.  

“Okay, man. My bad.” He looked like he might throw up. 

“Good,” Bucky affirmed, and he didn’t even acknowledge the other eyes around the room—the ones accompanied by raised brows and open mouths. 

He simply turned you around in his hands, dropped his forehead to yours, and kissed you. 

As if it were summer. 

[onsunnyside]

Give us some mean ATA Ari content pwease🥺

oki bestie, here’s a long snippet/spoiler for A Tough Act !!

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | dark!alpha!fraternity president!Ari Levinson x omega!activist!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dark, a/b/o dynamics, assault, power imbalance, violence, misogyny (within a/b/o designations), mean!ari, size difference, possessive behaviour, possible dehumanization, non-con/dub-con. smut - minors dni: all the following warnings are observed by the reader: so underlinings of exhibitionism, forced voyeurism. humiliation: public punishment, spanking. implied: fingering, unprotected sex.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a snippet of A Tough Act: starlet finds herself at an Arcadia Phi frat party.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.56K

𝗔/𝗡 | the masterlist isn’t posted yet, but this is from my new series set in HCV (Howard college verse). This snippet includes cameos from our other readers: cherry and casanova !!

“You see that? Look at them.” He holds your face up, forcing you to watch the exchange. 

The buzzcut-haired alpha nearly blocks the small omega with his frame, his big hands sliding all over her dress, and fixing the buttons of her cardigan. Then, they cup her cheeks, bringing her in for a soft kiss that quickly turns possessive. Her weak grip lands on his shoulders, feebly trying to push him away but he only leans closer. He presses her flush against the wall, nearly crushing her until you can’t see her anymore. 

You can’t look anymore and avert your gaze, finding more interest in the couch cramped with giggly sorority girls. They flatter and wave at passing alphas like they’re celebrities.

All of them are clad in short dresses and high heels, practically copies of each other—except the one in the middle. She’s an omega and seems the most confident, her legs crossed as he steadily sips from a solo cup. 

Some guys walk up to the girls, and sweep them away but the middle omega is different. When approached, she doesn’t offer the first alpha a glance, but the second one, a light-haired guy, seems to win whatever game they were playing. She lets him take her hand and draw her close, their bodies instantly grinding to the music as her friends fawn. 

“That’s how good omegas are treated. They’re protected, and pampered. Adored like the prettiest flower in the garden,” he rasps, “as long as they honour their superiors.” 

“Honour as in let themselves be used and degraded to mere machines?” Your eyes narrow, lip twitching with rage, “to be seen as nothing but a hole for your fucking knots? You must be really sick if you raped and willingly dehumanized people for cash. Your whole childhood—your existence is based on the suffering of omegas.”

Ari growls, “you think I’m careless enough to knock up some breeding bitch? If you're jealous, just say so.” 

“Is that all you heard? Does your ego take up too much room in your head? Or is it the god-complex that makes you so stupid?” You jeer, “I’d rather drown than even look at you a second longer.” 

You don’t get far before Ari is tugging you back, caging you against the wall with his body. “I suggest you behave, unless you want that to be you.” He spins you around to the rest of the room. 

The once confident omega is now trapped on a bearded man’s lap—a different alpha from before. Her skirt is hiked up, making room for the alpha’s big hand as he lands spanks on her thigh, dangerously close to her ass. Each slap echoes through the packed room, sounding over the booming music from the basement. 

“You see that, starlet? Do you want all eyes on you, just like her?” Ari murmurs, stepping closer as his fingers trail up your arm, “again, if you’re jealous, just say so. We could put on our own show, but we’ll be way better.” 

An awful taste fills your mouth as you shrug off his hand, “No, and don’t touch me.” 

Ari raises his eyebrows, taking a long sip of his beer. “Really? I would’ve thought an attention whore like yourself would kill to be the star…”

Another loud slap bounces off the walls, followed by a high-pitched squeal. 

You feel embarrassed for her, the pure humiliation of being punished for everyone to see—right out in the open without shame. 

But, that sharp distress is a waste. It turns out, you’re the only one who feels it, the only person not blinded by the hierarchy and the cruel shimmer of alphas. 

“Ah, there we go. Look at little casanova.” Ari’s voice drops low, and suddenly he’s close enough for his beard to brush your cheek. “You know, she used to be quite the handful. Always with that attitude, flaunting herself, fucking anything that moves.” He snickers, “as if she was regaining ownership of herself and her body.” 

“I bet she was.” You try to shove him away, but it’s only a few inches. “You think your status guarantees you the world, but worthless assholes like you don’t deserve headstrong people like her—” like us, omegas. 

“No?” His blue eyes glimmer with amusement. “Well, how about you take a look at that headstrong omega right now?” He turns your face in her direction again. 

Your breath hitches as your heart beats loudly in your ears, bouncing off your skull while you helplessly watch the poor omega—you wish to knock some sense into her. Tell her this isn’t her purpose, she isn’t a plaything to be shown off, she’s worth so much more. 

“Look at her, casanova would be nothing without Andy.” 

The spanks have turned heated. The big alpha swats her thigh then rubs it roughly, and you know it’s to make it hurt more rather than to soothe it. And she doesn’t protest or flail away, no, she stays in his lap, almost happily. She kisses his gland while running her fingers through his hair. Her moans are loud enough for you and everyone else to hear when she unabashedly grinds against his hand up her skirt. 

“You always preach about control, but omegas aren't made for that. They can’t handle all that pressure,” his warm breath fans across your face and this close, you can see every beauty mark and freckle on his face. “They need someone to do all the planning, heavy lifting and thinking for them while they stick to simpler tasks. They need to be used, owned—they were made to be owned.” 

You raise your hand and swing back, but in the blink of an eye, you’re pinned against the wall. The shock makes your drink drop to the floor, splattering all over your shoes and Ari’s boots. 

With eyes full of burning hatred, and teeth clenched so tightly you can practically hear them grinding—you don’t usually resort to violence, but he always gets under your skin. 

Your fist collides with his side before he restrains that one above your head too. His bottle joins your plastic cup on the floor, the glass doesn’t break but the beer spills on the floorboards and joins the puddle beneath the two of you. 

Ari didn't even flinch, let alone, wince. Leaning closer with daring eyes, “Do that again, and I’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone. Make them watch as I tear your tight cunt apart, show them how a real alpha punishes a disobedient omega.” 

You do the only thing you can think of and spit in his face. He stiffens and you try to headbutt him but he swiftly dodges. You would’ve expected him to have fast reflexes with his boxing skills—but he isn’t quick enough to avoid another hunk of your saliva. 

This time, it lands on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes turn shades darker. He makes a disgusting show of it, easily constraining your wrists above your head despite your wriggling, and swiping your saliva from his face. 

He brings it to his lips, sucking it off and groaning lowly. His eyes never leave yours, searing into your soul and fueling your hostility. You suck in your cheeks again, ready to spit a third time and hopefully burn a hole in his ego, but he slaps that same hand over your mouth. 

“God, I love that fight in you. Makes me so fucking hard.” He forces your head into the wall as your breaths deepen, nostrils flaring with each exhale. “Oh, looks like Curtis finally got the show on the road.”

Once again, he makes you look at the buzzcut-haired alpha and his omega. He’s got her tucked in a dark corner, you can barely make out her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck, securing herself with each rock of his hips. 

A deep dread fills your chest as people go about their lives, drinking and dancing, enjoying themselves while a poor girl is getting taken advantage of. 

Or so you think because it physically pains you to hear her moans of enjoyment. 

He slowly removes his palm from your mouth, loving the helplessness in your eyes. “Look at Curtis and sweet, innocent cherry—she’s getting fucked at a party like it’s her job. Hm, I wonder what her religious and overbearing parents would think of that… Say, should I record it and send it to them?”

“Leave her alone.” You hiss, bringing up your knee but Ari quickly hikes your thighs around his waist, just like Curtis. In this position, you’re completely vulnerable and at his mercy. Fear rushes through your veins, making you only more motivated to get free. 

But, Ari is having none of it. His hand wraps around your throat, keeping you against the wall for everyone to see. 

Shame blooms like a spring garden—but the flowers are roses with the sharpest thorns, and they tear you apart from the inside. 

“You want me to leave her alone? To leave every other omega alone?” He mocks, “Now, why would I do that? It’d be neglecting my duties as an alpha, just letting them be—letting them have power over themselves.” He inches closer, his hips snug between yours and you can feel his sickening excitement through your jeans. “Omegas need guidance and they need to be used… and alphas are the only ones who can fill that void. Omegas are made to be owned.” He repeats again to drill it into your head. 

Ari can see it in your eyes, the blazing fury, the pure loathing that resigns within you. 

It was made for him, and he will never get enough of it. 

He squeezes a little tighter, enjoying the stutter in your breath. He wonders if it’s getting harder to breathe yet, or if you’re just being difficult, as always. 

“And you, starlet, regardless of how much you protest and fight, you’re one of them.” 

I can't wait for this pairing !!

[ieroween1031]

My Thoughts in Real Time as I Watched Episode 10 of Love in the Air That Absolutely Nobody Asked For (Spoiler Alert!):

Oh my god, Pai just called Sky his boyfriend, I’m gonna snap my computer in half.

Pai’s face when Sky is crying and begging for him not to let go, I’m already emotionally weak

What does Prapai even do for work? Like, what kind of business does his family run?

“Do you know how hard it was to hold back?” You mean how hard it was to not assault a half-conscious person when they’re sick? I love you, but come on, Pai.

Peat’s an amazing actor. Sky, not so much.

I’m not proud of the noise I made at the close-up shot of them holding hands in bed. I literally squealed.

I literally will never get over how fucking gorgeous Fort is. Like he’s seriously so pretty, it makes me sick.

Sky’s clothes are changing but Pai’s aren’t, and I feel like that’s kinda gross. How long have you been wearing those clothes, my guy?

I JUST FUCKING SQUEALED AGAIN AT SKY TOUCHING PAI’S HAIR

GODDAMN IT, SKY, JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU AND LET YOURSELF LOVE HIM!

I don’t know why, but I’m obsessed with the difference in their skin tones.

You tell him, Pai. Let’s get some decent communication going, please!

PRAPAI’S FACE WHEN SKY KISSES HIS CHEEK IS THE CUTEST FUCKING THING I’VE EVER SEEN.

Fort in these racing jackets should be one of the modern wonders of the world

GOD MOTHERFUCKING DAMN IT YOU SON OF A BITCH I’M SO FUCKING ANGRY RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE JUST SEEING HIM MAKES ME LIVID YOU TRASH EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING

Tag yourself: I’m one of the three people all chastising Sky at the same time

I am completely here for everyone telling Sky how important he is as how much they appreciate his hard work. My baby deserves all the love he can get.

THAT STUPID CHICKEN SONG IS STUCK IN MY HEAD FUCK YOU

More communication, we stan.

Okay, I’m not mad about seeing that shitbird Gun anymore, because I’ve been waiting for this scene with Prapai and Payu helping with the freshmen

DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY

I’m older than both of them, but I would still call Boss and Fort ‘Daddy’ and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

OH MY GOD NATSU I’M SQUEALING AGAIN

Joy, you fucking gossip.

That x-acto knife, I’m fucking cackling. 😂😂😂

“Did I sleep with a psycho?” Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, sweetheart.

Was that too soon? I feel like that was too soon.

This is all entirely too happy. How are they planning to rip my heart out in the last ten minutes? Because I have a feeling something is coming that’s gonna make me want to cry.

Yes, please introduce Sky to your family. They’ll absolutely love him and I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; my sweet baby just deserves all the love he can get.

KISS HIM KISS HIM KISS HIM KISS HIM

GODDAMN IT FUCK!!!

I’d like to apologize for my outburst earlier; this is the the best episode so far. We got the Phis helping the Nongs with the freshman, the writing on the hands, and now I get the scene with Prapai on the floor and sweet, precious little Sky just a-grinning away on the bed. My heart hurts.

Prapai googling how to take care of a sick person is a mood

He called his mom? My sweet child is a clueless idiot and I would kill or die for him.

Is he keeping a log of all the things he’s learning about Pai? I can’t breathe, that’s too fucking adorable.

Huh. I was wrong about something devastating happening in the last ten minutes. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong before.

The preview for the next episode has me flailing. I can’t tell you how excited I am for Sky for finally admit that he’s completely gone for Pai, because fucking same, bro.

Are we getting another NC scene next episode? Probably not, because Me Mind Y are teases, but I don’t care. just that was enough to drive me insane.

My heart literally hurts knowing that this is all gonna come crumbling down around us sometime in the next three episodes.

WE’VE ONLY GOT THREE EPISODES LEFT I’M GONNA THROW UP

[sinnadreams]

Barcode and Mile’s relationship dynamic is both hilarious and heart warming. They’re a chaotic millennial x gen z duo who should have their own content.

One moment Barcode will be dunking on Mile:

Calling him a water pig/dugong

Making fun of his hair clip

Then he’ll be sweet (there’s quite a bit of barcode’s I love you tweets to mile but tumblr is limiting me):

He might ask for money:

And Mile returns the affection:

By dancing together for tik tok

Promoting him for an award

Allowing him to play with his precious guitar

Complimenting Barcode on his brains (I can’t find the exact clip when mile says this but it’s out there somewhere)

Saying I love you

Ultimately Barcode looks up to his Phi and is one of his biggest fans and I’m sure Mile adores him: (also look at barcode being a bigger fan than most of us 😭 so cute)

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[erensangel444]

i see the love in her eyes

please dni if not 18+ thank u!

jean x reader x connie

modern!au

the title is inspired by swimming pools by kendrick lamar

this blurb is jean + connie x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this blurb has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

i saw a tiktok talking about being sandwiched between these two while swimming pools by kendrick lamar is playing: [@armins.sea.shell420] and y’all know a bitch jumped at the opportunity😁

a/n: i have so much love for jean and connie, they are my favorite duo. this fic is appreciation for them, JEAN AND CONNIE SUPREMACY! also two aot episodes tomorrow!!(that’s if i finish writing this fic right now, it’s currently 3:43 AM)

edit: it is now 5:17 AM and i need to go to bed, be back later:D 

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain explicit language), alcohol consumption, smut: light public sex, slapping(very slight, only once, consensual), oral(fem and male!receiving), degradation + praise, unprotected sex w/ creampie, voyeurism, threesome.

word count: 3.8k words

summary: somehow, on a friday night, you found yourself in sigma phi’s frat house, sipping on a smirnoff ice. it’d be nice to have someone to keep you company. two’s a party, but three’s a riot.

i was in the dark room, loud tunes, looking to make a vow soon...

you don’t know why you let ymir and historia convince you to come to the party tonight. one; you hated frat houses, and two; you knew they’d leave you mid-way through to go makeout against some wall. yet, you fell victim to historia’s sweet smile and ymir’s threatening glare.

so, you obliged. you put on the tightest bodycon dress in your closet, applied a subtle gloss to your lips, sighing through the entire ordeal. the frat house was packed, as it was almost every friday night. clearly the party had already started, the dude hurling his guts out on the front porch a telltale sign. disgusting.

sliding through the mass of sweaty bodies, cringing at the shirt that you brushed up against that was slightly too damp, you finally made your way into the kitchen, grabbing a smirnoff out of a bucket filled with ice. 

upon trying to make your way out of a kitchen, a guy offered to give you a sip of svedka that was ‘just up in my room’. you firmly declined, pushing past him and making your way out of the kitchen.

you made your way back over to ymir and historia, hanging towards the wall, distancing yourselves from the mosh pit in the center of the room. eventually historia and ymir left to ‘go to the bathroom real quick’, your eyes rolling at the obvious lie.

though sometimes the way they were so in love bothered you, it was also adorable. at this moment, it bothered you immensely, their love being the cause of you leaning on a wall, all alone. 

“hey,” you heard a voice from beside you, turning at the noise. “jean, hey,” you said softly, attempting to mask your enthusiasm. jean was in your psychology 101 class, and whenever that class was on your roster, you couldn’t help but look forward to it. 

during lectures you’d catch yourself staring at jean for too long, your thoughts starting to drift into a not-so-class-appropriate place. the slew of dirty thoughts would cause you to look around the room at your classmates, worried that they knew what you were thinking.

could anyone really blame you though? anyone who knew jean could admit that he was nothing short of gorgeous. you were once partnered up with him for a project in class, and you couldn’t help but stare at his fingers as he moved the pencil across his page. seeing those same fingers wrapped around a beer bottle...how you wished they were inside of you.

you stopped yourself at the thought, looking up to meet jean’s eyes. “are you here with anyone?” jean asked, a soft smile on his face as he brought the beer bottle up to his lips. “i came with ymir and historia,” you started, “that should be enough of an explanation on why i’m all alone now,”. 

jean laughed, ymir and historia’s obsession with one another being wide-spread knowledge across campus. his laugh made you smile, you wanted to make him laugh more. “yeah i came with a friend too, he’s probably passed out in the backyard by now though,”. you laughed softly at that, jean grinning at the fact that you liked his simple joke.

the song had shifted to mo bamba, the mosh-pit in the center of the room growing more intense. you and jean eyed the movement for a moment, before turning back to one another.

one simple question about psychology class had drifted into a playful argument about the love triangle in the vampire diaries. “delena, always,�� you rolled your eyes, smiling at jean. “put some respect on my boy stefan,” jean sighed, mocking exasperation.

before you could continue, a figure landed beside you and jean. “man, i’ve been looking for you!” the stranger yelled, his hand on jean’s shoulder. “i’ve been here,” jean said plainly, scoffing, but smiling at who you presumed to be his friend. 

“so what girl talk is going on over here,” the boy said. you noted his appearance, he was similar to jean in height, a little shorter than him, but he was very similar in how good he looked. you forcefully shifted your brain back to the conversation at hand as jean spoke, “you sound like a fuckin’ douche when you say shit like that,” jean huffed, “what girl talk, meh meh” he continued, mocking his friend.

jean’s friend hit him in the shoulder, jean hitting him back. “why don’t you introduce me, jean? talking to a pretty girl all by yourself, didn’t even think to tell me,” the boy said, your cheeks heating up at his words. jean glared at him before mumbling, “i swear to fuckin-” “what was that?” his friend interuppted, jean’s glare intensifying.

“this is y/n, she’s in my psych class,” jean said, his eyes burning holes into your face. “y/n! nice to meet you, i’m connie,” jean’s friend said. connie, it was nice to put a name to the face. 

“if we’re gonna have a proper friendship, it needs an amazing start,” connie announced, before yelling out “shots!”

connie’s fists slammed down on the counter, once, twice, three times, before you grabbed your shot glass, bringing the glass up to your lips before swallowing the liquid down. 

“woo!” jean yelped as you chuckled, the alcohol giving a subtle tingle in your throat. “two down, twenty more to go,” connie cheered. “twenty?” you joked, “you’re on your own for that one,” connie grinned at you. 

“one more!” you offered, jean smiling at you as he grabbed the tequila, sloppily pouring it into all three shot glasses. “speech! speech!” connie joked, his eyes yet to leave you. “to getting absolutely fucking wasted,” you grinned. “amen to that,” the shot glasses lightly clinking against one another. 

and, that was what you did, got wasted. you weren’t at a blackout-level, you still had your wits about you, but you couldn’t seem to find the will to care, or the will to force yourself outside of the group of sweaty bodies as you bounced up and down to the beat of the song.

somewhere in between the shots, connie showing you how he could tie a cherry stem with his tongue, and jean almost falling off of his barstool, the three of you had navigated your way back into the main room.

the previous song, the one you had been dancing to, slowly changed into something slower. you recognized the tune to be swimming pools, your rapid movements slowing as your body became rigid for a moment.

the rigidness of your figure increased as you felt hands on your hips, yet the stiffness flushed from your body as you turned around to be met by jean’s face. something new had glossed over his eyes, something you recognized but had never seen on him. you liked it.

“hey,” connie interrupted, “don’t leave me out,” his hands drifting to your hips, sitting directly below jean’s. you gasped slightly, your eyes widening as you looked at connie. you turned back to look at jean, the lust behind his stare yet to leave. neither of them seemed too bothered by the other, so you went with it. 

why you babysitting only two or three shots...

you threw your head back into the junction of jean’s neck and shoulder, reeling at the feeling of jean pressing against your backside, connie against your front. you felt a hand on your chin, your vision shifting from the ceiling to connie’s face in front of you. “should look at me instead,” he rasped, “wanna see how pretty you look for me, for us,” his words adding fuel to the fire burning inside of you. 

pour up, drank, head shot, drank...

you began to grind harder against jean’s hips, a soft groan sounding from behind you. “fuck,” you sighed, both jean and connie audibly showing the effect the word falling from your mouth had on them, the desperation laced within the simple word causing their pants to grow tighter. 

“we gotta go,” jean spoke from behind you, connie nodding in agreement. “ya wanna go, wanna come back with us?” connie asked, his fingers rubbing circles into the skin of your bare thigh. you nodded enthusiastically, a small ‘yes’ falling from your lips.

hearing your confirmation, jean pushed connie to head towards the entrance, his hand holding on to your wrist. connie already had his phone out, the uber screen lighting up his device.

“connie?” the uber driver asked, connie nodding for a moment too long before jean opened up the backseat car door, holding it open for you to get inside. you thanked him, connie jogging behind the car to enter on the other side.

the uber was set up like a taxi, the front seat separated from the back, the partition open. “i’ve got water back there if you guys needed,” the driver offered, smiling through the rear view before flipping the car into ignition.

you all muttered out a thanks, the arousal thrumming inside of your bodies consuming all rationale and thoughts. feeling two hands on each respective thigh, your eyes immediately drifted down to your legs.

jean’s hand was gripping at your right thigh, connie’s fingers gently tracing up and down your left. you looked up at both of them, the two already sharing a knowing look. their hands began to trail further up your thigh, your bottom lip now held between your teeth. 

jean touched you first, his pointer finger eliciting feather-light touches on your panty-clad entrance. connie’s hand began to move more intently on your thigh, gripping at the skin before letting go and rubbing soft circles into the area. 

jean pulled your panties to the side, running a finger through the slick of your arousal before sighing airily. “everything alright?” the driver asked, eyeing you through the rear view mirror. all three of your heads shot up, jean’s hand moving up towards your clit.

he was going to be the death of you. “yep, all good,” you hummed. jean removed his thumb from your clit and you held back from whimpering at the loss of contact.

connie placed a soft kiss on your neck, before moving up to your ear and whispering, “yeah, is everything alright?” his hand on your thigh shifting to your center. you turned to jean who’s thumb was in his mouth as he leaned against the window, eyeing you as connie ran two fingers through your slit.

removing his fingers, connie brought them up to his mouth, licking at them as he stared at you, not daring to break eye contact. the lewdness made you blush, your panties becoming wetter. 

“taste good huh?” jean spoke to connie looking right past you. “so good,” connie sighed. “want more, feel like i can’t fuckin’ wait anymore,” jean whispered, his eyes back on you.

“5 minutes!” the uber driver, unknowingly, interrupted. jean let out a thanks, his hand falling back to your thigh, connie’s hand resuming the tracing of patterns against your skin.

as soon as jean unlocked the door to his apartment, it was like unlocking the door to a world of pleasure. lips locked onto your neck, nipping at your jaw. jean grabbed your head, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before softly leading you towards the bed, your knees buckling as they met the mattress.

jean pulled away as you laid on the bed, tugging off his shirt. connie had beat him to the punch, already shirtless, his fingers toying with the button of his pants. jean knelt down on the floor, his face level with your cloth covered center.

you shut your eyes in anticipation, hearing shuffling behind you, the sound being connie moving to the other side of the bed. jean ran a finger over the wet patch of your panties, a soft whimper sounding throughout the room. 

“connie lean up on the headboard,” jean said plainly. connie got on to the bed, sliding back until his back met the wooden headboard. jean grabbed at your hips, sitting you between connie’s legs as he positioned himself to lay flat on the bed, in between your legs.

“i think she’s wearing too much, don’t you think so jean?” connie spoke, jean humming out an agreement, his hands playing with the hem of your panties as connie’s reached for the bottom of your dress that had rolled up on your hips. you lifted your arms up, connie pulling the dress off of your body and throwing it across the room.

too preoccupied with helping connie remove the clothing from your body, you hadn’t realize jean was tugging your panties down your thighs until you felt his finger run through your slit, throwing your head back into connie’s shoulder at the feeling.

“fuck, you’re dripping,” jean sighed, his fingers toying with the arousal collected at your center. you whimpered at his words, jean’s fingers finding purchase on your clit, rubbing soft circles on the bundle. you pushed back into connie’s figure, his bulge pushing against your back.

“she’s so sensitive,” connie teased, his hands falling down to your breasts, flicking at your nipples. “i know,” jean whispered, looking up at you with a smirk. “can i finally get a taste now?” jean asked, his eyes yet to break contact with yours. you nodded, your mouth wide open as you watched jean’s mouth attach to your center, sucking at your clit.

with his eyes still locked with yours, jean sucked harshly at your clit, his fingers toying with your entrance. “fuck!” you moaned airily, connie’s hand grabbing at your breasts rougher now. “you like it?” connie whispered in your ear, “is he making you feel good?”. his hand grabbed at your chin, turning you to look back at him, your neck craning. 

he kissed you softly, lightly moaning at the initial contact. eventually the kiss became more passionate, in tune with jean’s intensity on your center. his fingers had slipped into you, curling and hitting that sweet spot, his tongue licking relentlessly at your bundle of nerves. 

connie pulled away from you, one of his hands drifting back down to your breast and delivering a harsh slap. you moaned loudly, reeling at the harsh contact on your skin. “so-so close!” you whimpered, jeans finger’s moving faster inside of you, his words muffled by your clit, “yeah, gonna cum for us? you like getting hit?”. “such a little slut,” connie continued, “come on, show us,”.

their words mixed with jean’s tongue and fingers sent you over the edge, your orgasm sending shock waves to your system. jean continued softly licking at your clit until your hands tugged at his hair harder, your hips squirming. 

as jean pulled away, you noted the arousal on the bottom half of his cheeks, and on the tip of his nose, the sight making you blush profusely. before you embarrassment could consume you, connie’s voice sounded throughout the room, “i get to be inside of her first!” softly lifting you and setting you beside him. “like hell you do!” jean stood up from the bed, pushing at connie’s shoulder.

the sight in front of you made you laugh softly, both connie and jean turning towards you. jean’s expression became sheepish, his hand rubbing at his neck while connie just grinned at you. he grabbed at your ankles before flipping you over, ass up. “on all fours,” he stated, positioning himself behind you.

connie continued talking, the head of his cock rubbing at your slit, “why don’t ya help out jean too, he could use it, he’s got a stick up his ass or something i swear t-” “hey!”. connie laughed at jean’s response, his laughter quickly shifting into a groan as he pushed inside of you. 

you bit your lip, the stretch of connie’s cock giving a slight burn to your entrance. before you could focus on the pain, and the slight pleasure that accompanied it, jean’s cock was in front of you. 

you looked up at jean, his eyes glazed over, his expression so different from the one at the party. you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, licking at the tip, soft whimpers flowing from your mouth as connie began to thrust in and out of you. 

jean threw his head back as you wrapped your lips around his cock, bobbing your head on his length. “god da-oh!” connie moaned from behind you, pushing inside of you rougher now, a harshness accompanying his thrust. “so-so big!” you moaned at the feeling of connie inside of you, his cock brushing against your walls. 

you diverted your attention back to jean, your hands meandering their way to his balls. jean was moaning now, the soft whimpers from before gone. connie’s pleasure was audible from behind you, loud grunts and groans sounding alongside the sound of skin on skin. 

suddenly, a hand barreled down onto your ass, roughly hitting the skin. you lurched forward at the feeling, taking jean’s cock deeper inside of your mouth, gagging once at the intrusion before pulling away. jean was looking down at you, his jaw slack as his thumb rubbed at your cheek. “fuck, spank her again,” jean said without breaking eye contact with you.

you braced yourself for the pain, the pain that you welcomed, the sound of connie’s hand on your skin resonating throughout the room. “oh!” you moaned, your hand pausing in moving up and down jean’s length. “gonna- gonna cum!” connie moaned, his hips staggering behind you. 

your hand drifted down to your clit, rubbing quick circles, as you were eager for orgasm. “need you to cum first, please you gotta, i need to-” connie began rumbling, his rant cut short by your loud moan as you came, your walls clenching around him causing connie to groan loudly.

he pulled out abruptly, the peak of your orgasm dying down. you turned back to look at him, your eyes meeting his before looking down at his hand jerking off his cock. you looked back up at him, whimpering out a soft ‘please’, connie’s eyebrows furrowing and his mouth widening into an o as he came, the white liquid painting your lower back. “f-fuck,” he sighed, panting behind you. 

you sat on your knees on the bed, looking up at jean as connie laid down on the bed. “you good bro?” jean joked, causing you to laugh before lying down next to connie and catching your breath. 

“gimme,” connie panted, “give me a few minutes, fuck, feel like i just ran a 5k”. both you and jean laughed as you stood up from the bed, standing next to jean. you reached for the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss. you whimpered into his lips, and as you pulled away a string of saliva connected your lips to his. 

“on second thought,” connie interrupted the stare between you and jean, “that was hot, and i can definitely go for another one,” you grinned down at connie, before pushing jean softly on to the bed, his feet still on the hardwood floor.

“wanna take care of you,” you said softly to jean, your hand tracing over his chest. “i’m all yours,” jean said breathlessly. you smiled down at him, your hand at the base of his cock as you positioned the tip of your entrance.

sliding down his length slowly, you whined at the stretch. reaching the base, you paused for a moment, panting into jean’s shoulder. you could feel jean’s breath on your neck, his hand on your ass, gripping at the skin. 

“gonna make you feel so good,” you asserted, beginning to lightly bounce up and down jean’s cock. “you l-look so pretty,” jean sighed, his eyes drifting from your breasts to your face. his words made you bounce faster, reveling in the brush of his skin against your clit and the feel of his cock pushing deep inside of you. 

jean pulled you in for a kiss, the pair of you moaning into it. you pulled away at the sound of a moan behind you, looking over jean’s shoulder to see connie leaning against the headboard, his hand leisurely stroking his cock. you moaned at the sight, connie’s eyes opening and meeting yours as he smiled at you. 

“you like it huh?” connie spoke, his voice deep, “like knowing you already got me hard again,” you threw your head back at the feel of jean’s cock and connie’s words. “moaning so pretty, jean feel good inside of you? huh? like him deep inside of you?” you whimpered, grinding on jean’s cock. 

“g-gonna cum!” you yelped. jean took your word’s as initiative, thrusting up into you, his hands gripping at your hips roughly. he manhandled you on his cock, lifting you up and down his length until you reached that point of no return, your orgasm washing over you as you came on his cock. 

“f-fuck!” jean all but shouted, thrusting up into you faster now. “c-can i cum inside?” jean asked, his eyes so wide as he peered up at you. “w-wanna fill you up!” “please!” you moaned in reply, your pleasure increasing tenfold due to the overstimulation. 

“g-god i’m gonna-” jean moaned loudly, his movements staggering. “oh gon-ah!” jean groaned, his cum shooting inside you, the liquid warm. he panted into your shoulder as you clung to his figure.  you looked back to see connie’s stomach coated in cum, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“fuck,” you sighed, reluctant to move away from jean, reveling in the warmth from his body. you lifted yourself off of jean’s cock, reluctantly nonetheless, wincing at the pain from the stretch and the sensitivity due to your previous orgasms.

connie held his hand out for jean, his fist clenched. jean rolled his eyes at him,  “you’re ruining it, connie,” but fist bumped him nonetheless. jean began to rub softly at your skin, his finger nails tracing over your stomach. “shower?” jean offered as you nodded softly.

after pushing jean and connie out of the bathroom so you could pee, the three of you packed into jean’s shower. jean’s shower head was a wide one that hung from the ceiling, the water cascading over your bodies. steam quickly filled the bathroom, sloppy kisses being shared between the three of you, numerous kisses being littered on your body.

once back in jean’s room, he threw you a shirt, connie throwing on a pair of sweats that he had left at jean’s a while back. once in bed, you sighed, comfortable in between the two boys, content with where you were. 

“connie,” jean broke the soft silence, “if your feet touch me one more time, i’m gonna fuckin kill you,” 

fin

i hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! jean and connie are my favs<3 actual heart eyes for them. this is out later than i had initially planned, so i apologize for that :(

thank you for reading!! love u so much and you’re doing amazing:-)

edit: LMAO Y'ALL- i forgot to put tags and i was wondering why the fic was getting like no notes and then i was like oh😀

[scarlet-streak-fanfics]

Three Sorcerers and a Baby, Pt. 3 (2.3k Words)

Sorry for the lack of x reader content--I’m kinda trying to find some new inspiration for something with a little more plot/length to it. Headcanons don’t really feel fun for me right now, so that’s why I’m focusing on this little story. I do have an idea for a fic in this universe that’s specifically the Demon Brothers x Reader, though!

A loud crash and the sound of arguing demons shake the House of Lamentation, startling Seraphina from soft fussing back into insistent screams of discomfort. Nathaniel wants to bury his head in the pillows of the large bed in their guest room, hiding from the infant’s distress in the luxurious bedding, but he knows he can’t abandon Ezekial. Centurion has never been good at the nighttime routine, so he’s currently sitting in the chair he’d dragged over from the simple desk that had been pushed against the wall, staring into the flames of the small fireplace. The room was comfortable but a little snug for two grown men and a baby. It was obviously designed for one, maybe two people maximum. However, after weeks of sleeping on the ground and in cheap motels, the bed and couch are incredibly inviting. MC had even managed to procure a cradle for Seraphina, meaning they’d finally be able to give her her own bed to sleep in.

“Come on, Phi-phi, please stop crying? You need the sleep.” Nathaniel shoots a glare at Ezekial. “We all do, Zed. It just so happens that we can’t sleep until ‘Phina does.”

The necromancer’s shoulders sag as he continues wandering around the room with their baby in his arms. “Maybe I should take her out on a walk. It’d get her away from all this noise and give you and Centurion a chance to rest.”

“If it comes to that, I will take her. You both require more rest than I do.” Centurion’s offer surprises Nathaniel–he usually doesn’t offer to take Seraphina alone unless absolutely necessary. Before he can make the same offer–after all, he won’t be outdone by a grumpy Roman soldier with a superiority complex–there’s a knock at the door to their room. “Come in!”

MC opens the door after Ezekial’s words, Beelzebub close behind them. “How are you four settling in? I see that Seraphina still hasn’t gone to bed.” Nathaniel decides to answer for the harried Ezekial. “The room’s great, no complaints there, but ‘Phina can’t sleep with all the racket downstairs. Makes me wish I’d put time into learnin’ a soundproofin’ charm.”

His companions murmur in agreement with his statement as Seraphina screeches loudly in time with another crash from downstairs. MC’s welcoming smile gains an almost dangerous edge to it as they turn to the Avatar of Gluttony. “Beel, would you be a dear and go get the rest of your brothers for me? I’m sure Lucifer will be happy to help wrangle them.” The massive demon nods, leaning down to kiss their forehead. “Sure, sweetheart, I’m on it.”

Nathaniel notes the physical affection and endearment with fascination. Of all the demon pacts he’s heard about, he’d never seen one that seemed to form any relationship beyond friendship. However, at least two of MC’s pactmates seem also to be romantically involved with them. It makes him glad that he hasn’t made a pact so far–if this is part of the expectations of a pact, he’s not ready for that. True to his word, Beelzebub returns with his brothers, Levi and Mammon being dragged by Lucifer, much to the latter’s irritation. “Oi, Lucifer, let go, that hurts! I haven’t even done anythin’!”

MC taps their foot impatiently, glaring daggers at Mammon, and the second oldest of the seven lords falls silent so they can speak. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have guests right now,” they walk to Ezekial, holding out their arms to take Seraphina. Once the baby is situated, they carry her back to the seven demons. “You see this adorable baby, right?”

They all nod silently, and MC smiles. “Good. Does she look happy to you?”

There’s a hiccuping sob from the baby as the brothers shake their heads. “That’s because she can’t get to sleep because some demons can’t keep the noise down to a reasonable level. So, if you can’t be quiet and well-behaved so our guests can get some much-needed rest, I’ll have to make you be quiet. Lucifer, you’d be happy to help with that, wouldn’t you?”

The Avatar of Pride smiles, obviously amused by MC's saccharine tone and the shiver of fear it brings from several of his brothers. “Of course, my love.”

“Good! Alright, off you go.” MC gives Seraphina back to Ezekial before shooing the demons off to their respective rooms. Ezekial closes the door behind them, slightly shell-shocked as he bounces Seraphina in his arms. “Mo, did you understand any of what just happened?”

“Well, Zed, I think we just watched a human successfully intimidate the seven lords of Hell.” Ezekial nods, still looking incredibly confused. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I think we shouldn’t question it. If it works, we can get ‘Phina to sleep.” The house remains almost eerily silent, with the quiet only being broken by the occasional cry from Seraphina as she calms down, exhaustion starting to wash over her tiny body. It takes only a few minutes for her to stop completely, resting her head on Ezekial’s shoulder. He continues walking around until he’s sure she’s asleep, placing her in the cradle they’d dragged near Centurion’s seat. When he speaks, it’s in a hushed tone. “Who’s taking first watch?”

Centurion raises his hand, and Nathaniel nods vehemently, already making a beeline towards the bed to claim the left side, kicking off his shoes in the process. Ezekial sinks down onto the right side with a sigh of contentment, tapping the naturomancer’s arm twice, a silent method of asking Nathaniel to take the second shift. He gives Ezekial a thumbs up–after all, Ezekial was the one who most often sacrificed an unbroken night’s sleep for Seraphina’s sake–before turning his back to the other sorcerer, eyelids already heavy and drifting closed.

His dreams are chaotic, balancing on the boundary of mundane and nightmare. Lush, green fields and peaceful streams melt into rivers of blood and the kiss of cold, sharp steel against skin. One moment he’s leaning against a tree in the cool forest near the Sorcerers’ Society, the next he’s holding a broken body in his arms as he screams. Whether it’s Seraphina’s, Centurion’s, or Ezekial’s doesn’t matter to him, which he knows is something he should probably dedicate thought to when he wakes up. However, that would require realizing  there’s people close enough to hurt him, and he hasn’t allowed that since he was young.

“Morrison, wake up.” Nathaniel wakes up, eyes blinking and bleary as he focuses on Centurion’s armored form, one of his gloved hands on Nathaniel’s shoulder. “It is your turn with Seraphina.”

Nathaniel grunts and tries to get up, but he finds himself trapped in Ezekial’s sleeping death grip. “Little help here, Centurion?”

Centurion gently pries away Ezekial’s arms, leaving enough room for Nathaniel’s escape. The Necromancer curls in on himself, expression tightening as his breath becomes uneven–he relaxes when Centurion places a hand on his shoulder, the weight allowing Ezekial’s body to return to peaceful sleep. Neither of them fully understood what happened in his brain when he was asleep, but they’d eventually fallen into a routine of physical contact–or at least tolerating contact from the sleeping man–to help Ezekial rest. 

Nathaniel creeps over to the chair by the fire, praying that none of the floorboards will squeak and wake up the baby, who’s still fast asleep. The room is silent except for the crackling of burning logs and soft snores from Ezekial. Then he hears a gentle cooing from cradle, and one of Seraphina’s hands rises into the air, grasping at nothing. He scrambles over to pick her up–Seraphina would usually give them about five seconds to get to her before she’d start crying. Tiny hands grasp his shirt as the infant rests her head against his shoulder and he whispers, “Hey, ‘Phina. Sleep time’s over, huh?”

Of course, she doesn’t reply, just drools onto his shirt before gumming on the fabric. “Hungry? I dunno if they have anything for you here, but let’s go check.”

After retrieving one of Seraphina’s bottles from Ezekial’s bag, he opens the door as quietly as possible, socks padding his footfalls against the wooden floors as he tries to remember where the kitchen is. MC had taken them on a tour, of course, but all he’d been thinking of was finally getting to sleep in a real bed again. As Nathaniel reaches the ground floor, he hears the clinking and opening of cabinets. This finally leads him to the kitchen, where he comes face to face with the Avatar of Greed who seems to be attempting to fit an entire cake into his mouth.

They just stare at each other for a moment, before Nathaniel breaks the awkward silence. “Do you know if there’s any formula? ‘Phina woke up hungry.”

Beelzebub points to one of the cabinets, and Nathaniel shifts the baby to his hip as he opens it and pulls out a fairly normal-looking box of baby formula. The slight clang of metal on metal draws his attention back to the demon he’s sharing the kitchen with. Beelzebub has put a pot of water on the stove–he looks guilty when he notices Nathaniel’s eyes on him. “It needs to be boiled first, right?”

“Yeah, and vanilla, if you have it.” Now that he’s aware of Ezekial’s secret, he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. He takes over the pot of water, standing awkwardly to keep Seraphina’s curious baby hands away from the hot stove. Beel awkwardly hovers nearby for a few moments after delivering a small bottle of vanilla extract before he clears his throat. “Do you want me to hold her while you’re making the bottle?”

“Oh, uh…” He really doesn’t, but he also knows that this demon has offered to protect his baby, so they might as well get acquainted. “Sure.”

Beel takes the baby from him with the careful restraint of someone picking up a priceless glass vase. He seems almost afraid to be holding her, quickly walking to sit on one of the stools lined up near the counter and putting Seraphina on his lap. He keeps one massive hand against her back, supporting her neck and keeping her upright as he just stares at the tiny being in his lap. Once Nathaniel is sure that the infant isn’t in any danger, he focuses on preparing the formula properly, turning off the fire once it’s boiled for a bit and setting the pot aside to allow it return to room temperature. Once it’s cool enough, he mixes in the formula, adds a few drops of vanilla, and pours a small amount into the bottle he’d brought with him. After he lets it cool down to a good temperature, the bottle is ready.

He hesitates as he approaches Beelzebub. “Do you want to try feeding her?” The demon nods, and Nathaniel reluctantly hands over the bottle. Seraphina gulps down the lukewarm formula greedily, finishing it quickly. When she realizes there’s nothing left, her little lower lip sticks out slightly, and Beel looks at Nathaniel. “She’s still hungry.”

“That makes sense. We haven’t been able to get a bigger bottle, so she takes two of these to get her fill.” Nathaniel takes the bottle, refilling it with the now slightly cooler formula and returning it to a delighted Seraphina.

Beelzebub looks fascinated by the baby. “She just drinks this? No other food?”

“Well, she’s old enough to start on solids, but we could never get anything baby-safe while we were on the run, y’know?” He still feels guilty about that. However, Beel’s expression lights up. “What counts as baby-safe? We might have something for her to try!”

Nathaniel wracks his brain, wishing he’d learned more about what foods would be good for Seraphina when Ezekial was explaining it. “Got any fruit? Human world fruit, I mean.”

“Sure, we’ve started keeping some for MC. We’ve got apples, oranges, bananas–” 

“Bananas would be perfect.” He remembers enough to know that he wouldn’t have to cook banana, just mash it up. He instructs Beel on this, watching as the demon diligently turns a banana into a bowl of mush. As Beelzebub goes to offer the first spoonful of banana mush to the baby, Nathaniel realizes something. “Shi– I mean, shoot, Centurion and Zed’ll kill me if we do this without them. Stay right here, I’ll go get ‘em.”

Nathaniel runs up the stairs, not caring for the noise he makes on his way to the room. He flings open the door, and the sound of it crashing against the door wakes up both Centurion and Ezekial, both of whom go into defensive mode. Nathaniel founds himself flung out into the hall by a gust of wind–he probably deserved that. Ezekial hurries to help him up, “Christ, Mo, what was that for? Just because you had to wake up doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t get to sleep.”

“Zed, ‘Phina’s about to try her first solids!” Ezekial’s eyes light up. “Well, what are we waiting for? Come on!”

That’s how the three men find themselves gathered around Beelzebub, waiting with baited breath as the demon offers a spoonful of banana to the baby. She accepts it skeptically, but her eyes widen at the sweet taste. She swallows it quickly and looks at the rest of the bowl expectantly–Beel is absolutely ecstatic. “She likes it! Is there anything else she can eat?”

Ezekial is already digging through the fridge, giving instructions to Centurion on what he’ll need to prepare other baby foods for Seraphina to try. Nathaniel opts for taking a seat next to Beelzebub, reaching over to tickle the baby’s stomach. The action draws a giggle from her before her focus is drawn away by another spoonful of banana. He finds himself smiling as he watches his two companions, one of whom is in full armor, bustle around the kitchen to prepare more mushy foods. It’s the first normal thing they’ve been able to do for their baby and he’s going to enjoy every second of it.

[anjuschiffer]

Maribat Prompts/Au/Ideas That Live Rent Free in my Head

A while ago, I said I would share a few things that I’ve been wanting to write...

Damigami (platonic)- Damian decides to make a fencing team at Gotham Academy (because he’s bored) but couldn’t make a team with the minimum amount of members to apply to competitions. Damian decides to venture into competitions on his own, going as far as entering the Cadet World Championships (or juniors...I don’t know much about fencing pls bare with me). While waiting for his match, he decides to check the women’s division and sees Kagami utterly defeat her opponent. He wants to approach her to ask if they could have a match of their own, but is called for his own. After winning his own, he sees Kagami and asks for a match. She tells him that she will be up for a match after winning her next and final match. BOth end up winning their final matches and Damian asks her for that match. She agrees. They become good sparring partners and friends.

Jasonette - Jason and Marinette are neighbors, but have never actually met each other. Mari often works during the day at her boutique while Jason is a stay at home dad with two adopted kids nicknamed Xol and Matt. At night, Mari sometimes checks on the kids because she knows that their father works at night. (The kids like Mari a lot, especially her cooking and baking.) One day, while with the kids, their father comes home early and Mari forgets to breathe. Jason wants to scream at the kids for letting someone in but after getting to know her, he’s okay with Mari looking after the kids while he isn’t there. A week later, Jason is asking Mari for help. To pretend to be the kids’ mother for a home-visit from their school (a nosy parent told the school she often saw the kids by themselves). Mari agrees and chaos ensues (because these kids want their favorite people to stop beating around the bush and get together already).

Luka and Cass (platonic) - Luka (as Viperion) finds Cass during patrol one night and discovers she’s in Paris as an undercover agent for Batman and Co™ for the Hawkmoth situation. (They got their distress signal a week late.) Cass is surprised that he got it correct, Luka explaining that her song told him as much. While Cass remains in Paris, the two share each other’s interests with each other

Adrijon - Clark is wandering around the house, cleaning up the place while Lois is off out of the state to get the scoop on the latest national incident. While picking things around, he starts to notice how pricey and how nice these items look, wondering if they were Kon’s. After all, Kon was dating Tim and Tim always paid for whatever caught Kon’s eye. However, Kon doesn’t recognize any of the sweaters, coats, scarves nor trinkets as his own, leaving Jon as Clark’s only answer. As he enters Jon’s room, he’s met with Jon wearing the latest Gabriel piece from that week’s fashion show in Paris. Clark only then finds out that Jon’s boyfriend was yet again another rich boy. What was it with his sons dating millionaires/billionaires?

Wally x Mari x Jinx - The JL is still young, still getting used to getting requests, especially international ones. So when they get an SOS from Paris, the JL want to send the Teen Titans but can’t so they send Wally and Jinx who meet Chat on one of his solo patrols. They get along well but when they meet Ladybug, the couple immediately click with her. The trio often spend time together, Wally and Jinx always there for Ladybug/Mari (Chat always complaining that Wally and Jinx stole his bff from him). Even after the defeat of HM, Wally and Jinx continue to be there for Mari. 

Corpse Bride inspired Au, Damigami - The Tsuguri’s have an arranged marriage with the Agreste's, but Kagami isn’t exactly on board with the idea (sees how uncomfortable Adrien is to marry her) and wanders through the woods to clear her head. While saying her vows (in hopes of trying to find a way to clear her head), she ‘weds’  Corpsebride!Mari. Mari is shocked at first but whole-heartedly accepts Kagami as her groom. Kagami tries to tell Mari it was a mistake, but Mari doesn’t listen. Kagami finds a way to return to the land of the living for help, only to find out her mother is now marrying her to the Wayne heir Damian. Kagami is then found by Mari and Mari confronts her on ‘cheating’ on her. MIsunderstandings and drama later, Kagami is about to marry Mari when Adrien crashes the wedding. Mari confronts Adrien (they were supposed to get married/had eloped) and ends up clearing the misunderstanding (someone had murdered her on her way to the wedding). Adrien drinks the poison to be able to be with Mari, leaving Kagami by herself. Or at least she thinks so. Damian had called off the wedding, and instead told her if it would be okay to just be friends and get to know each other. She agrees. 

No Miraculous Au, BFF Adrijon- Adrien is on a fashion tour and ends up in Metropolis. He meets Jon but as Jon gets to know Adrien, he finds out about his situation. One thing leads to another and with the help of Bruce, the Kents have a new family member. 

Juleka x Rose x Cass (platonic or romantic) - Juleka and Rose meet Cass on one of Prince Ali’s charities in Paris, a charity where Bruce and Oliver are at. Bruce brought Cass while Oliver brought Artemis. Rose quickly tries to befriend the two but Juleka reminds her to tone it a bit when she notices that the two are having trouble trying to handle Rose’s energeticness. But the girls find themselves getting along, especially Cass. Cass is intrigued by Juleka and Rose’s dynamic, how Rose is able to understand both her and Juleka with little to no words. She finds herself accepted by the two, keeping in touch with them and visiting them (with the help of zeta tubes)

Roynette - While visiting Titan Tower, Speedy meets Red Scara, a new teen who recently wanted a change of pace after defeating her villain in her hometown. While at first he didn’t pay much mind to her, he started to like her after being paired up with her on missions. He couldn’t help but enjoy their missions where they would have to go undercover. He gets to see Red Sacara in so many pretty outfits. He always compliments her, but Scara never fully accepts it. When Roy asks why, Scara says it's because she’s nothing like this. Roy calls bs and when Scara reveals her face, reveals her eyes, Roy couldn’t help but fall in love with her even further. “Who doesn’t love eyes as bright as sapphires and stars freckled across such a loving face?”

Big Sister Mari - Flash brings in a child who he found lost in Central City to the JL. Robin (Dick) watches Barry get scolded by Bruce, only for Barry to tell Mari to tell everyone why she was there. Mari shows off the ring she was wearing, that allowed her to transform into Noir. That it was the last magical item from her Earth, as she had used said magical item to destroy the others (after freeing the Kwami). How she used the knowledge as Guardian to move to another Earth to hide the last miraculous and was looking for a place to live. Bruce takes her in, earning Dick an older sister.

Cassette (I blame Phi for making me have a new fav ship) - Cass was looking through Marinette’s scrapped designs, designs that Marinette loved but others didn’t. Seeing her upset, Cass commissions her to make them for her and she adores wearing them. (Cass always shows them off to her brothers and family)

Cassette - Cass teaching Mari ballet just so that she can always catch Mari.

Cassette - Cass wants to bring a date to the gala. She chooses Mari and practically goes around the Gala to show off her very cute date. 

[artificialqueens]

A Head, A Heart, & A Crown {Biadore} Chapter 15 -C*NT

A/N: I apologize, because this seems like a much shorter chapter then usual. I feel like it is anyway. But we are definitley near the end of the story now, sadly. Probably only 2, maybe 3 more chapters at the most. Sorry if it is shorter then what you were all expecting, buuut I think this chapter will make some of you happy…at least for a little bit. TW: Smoking weed, um…I don’t think it’s really classified as smut but some intimacy somewhat happens? Anyway enjoy! ❤️✨

Bianca stared blankly at Courtney as she rolled the up the window in the Mercedes Benz.

Fuck, she was right.

Courtney’s voice had somehow managed to make its way through the recesses of Bianca’s drunken mind.

Watch yourself queen, Bianca thought, hearing the words echoing in her mind.

She’s set to marry someone else. It’s over. Fucking leave it to Courtney to bring down the mood. She looked at Adore, who was taking selfies slouched over in the car without a care in the world. She cracked a small smile.

The driver was putting Bianca’s address into his phone when she spotted Courtney still standing there in front of the club.

She rolled down the window again as the Lyft began to drive away. She was feeling mischievous.

“Courtney you’re such a fucking buzzkill!” Bianca yelled. Courtney jumped and cursed, throwing her middle finger up as the Benz turned the corner.

Adore’s bubbly laugh broke the silence in the Lyft as they began to drive away. Bianca smirked.

“Yeah, you like that?” Bianca laughed.

“I thought I was the only one that thought Court was a buzzkill. She’s so lameee.” Adore drawled out the word lame.

They giggled together and soon silence filled the cab again.

“Am I still coming over tomorrow?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah bitch! Pizza remember?” Adore exclaimed.

Of course, that’s what she remembers the fucking pizza Bianca thought.

They pulled up in front of the apartment and slid out of the vehicle. They thanked the driver and left a $20 bill on the seat.

The queens walked up the steps to the apartment complex. They approached the elevator, waiting for the doors to open to allow them to be lifted to her floor. Bianca grabbed Adore’s arm as she started to sway to the side, losing her balance. The elevator dinged and they entered it trying not to be too obnoxious and loud, but failing miserably. When they reached her floor, Bianca continued to drag Adore slowly through the hallway until they finally reached her apartment. She then started fumbling through her purse to find her keys.

“God, I know they’re in here somewhere, shit.” Bianca cursed as she clawed around the bottom of her purse.

“Hurry up B I have to pee!” Adore whined as she leaned against the wall in the hallway.

She finally felt the cold metal on her hands after what felt like forever.

“Will you shut up? I got them.” Bianca hissed as she tried putting the key into the door. It took a few times to actually get it in the hole, after a few more failed attempts she was finally successful. She twisted the lock and pushed the door open.

Bianca walked in, turning on all of the lights and seeing her dogs jump up excitedly as they greeted her. Strange that they weren’t barking as they hadn’t seen Adore in over a year.

“Adore?” Bianca called.

Adore hadn’t come in yet, she realized. She grabbed the dogs, put them in their travel carrier and set them in the guest room for the moment.

She walked back outside to see a pale looking Adore, leaning her head against the wall sitting cross legged.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Bianca had went to grab Adore’s arm and instead, lost her balance. She tried to break her fall and slide against the wall next to Adore, but ended up landing right onto her lap.

Adore jumped, startled by the older queen who was now only inches away from her face. Everything was spinning from the alcohol still, but she could see Bianca’s dark brown eyes clearly.

What was she thinking? Dancing with Bianca like that? I mean, she’s incredibly drunk so she has an excuse but she’s engaged now. Phi Phi would not be happy if she found out.

At this particular moment in time however, Adore didn’t give a fuck about what Phi Phi thought. She had ditched her on what could be the most amazing day of her life if she wins, all because she thought she got a bad edit. It was fucked up. This was the first time all night she wasn’t unhappy.

“Sorry…” Bianca hesitated staring into Adore’s eyes, cupping her face. Her eyes were green, which usually meant she was happy but her pupils were so large that she probably wasn’t seeing her at all. The color probably meant nothing.

All she wanted to do was kiss her.

She was drunk enough; she might not even remember Bianca thought.

Right?

“Are you okay?” Adore asked softly, breaking Bianca out of her trance.

No she could not kiss her. Adore was marrying Phi Phi, not her.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall. Here let’s go inside.” Bianca apologized, getting up.

“B, I can’t walk.” Adore cracked a smile. She couldn’t even really see very well, unless she was incredibly close to whatever it was she was trying to look at. Since she was unfamiliar with her surroundings right now, All she could really do was hear Bianca. It had been a long time since she had been here.

“Well, looks like you’re coming for a ride then queen.” Bianca chirped as she pulled Adore up by the torso. She put her arms under her knees and lifted her up into her chest as she stepped inside the apartment. She closed the front door with her leg and walked her to the bathroom, staggering a few times. Bianca was still drunk, but she knew how to handle her alcohol better. She set her down on the toilet, and watched her start to tilt sideways.

“No, no. You have to untuck queen. And wash off your makeup. You don’t want to look like me at just 28 years old, that shit cannot sit on your face all night.” Bianca fussed. She was still having a hard time focusing, she was still drunk as well, although starting to sober up. The light in the bathroom was too bright for her liking but she didn’t have any other option at the moment.

“Can you do it?” Adore whined.

Bianca hesitated.

“Adore, I don’t think Jaremi would appreciate that.”

“Fuck him.” Adore rolled her eyes.

Bianca had boundaries. She would never home wreck, as much as she wanted to in this moment she wouldn’t do that to someone.

“I’ll take your makeup and hair off, how about that?”

“Whatever.” Adore mumbled. She leaned her head against the mirror closing her eyes.

Bianca gently lifted the lace front off Adore’s head, turning her back into Danny just like that. She opened one of her drawers in the bathroom and got one of her makeup wipes. She started gently wiping the younger queen’s makeup off, first starting with the face and neck and then moving to the lips.

She studied her eyes and realized Danny was wearing lashes. Bianca groaned internally. Taking off the lashes would require more coordination then what she had at the moment.

“Adore, can you open your eyes for a second?”

Adore sleepily opened one eye and yawned. Bianca still couldn’t see exactly where her fake lashes began so she moved closer to examine.

Adore opened her other eye and saw Bianca only inches away from her face again.

“If you’re going to make a move, just do it.” Adore dared.

Bianca ignored the queen and gently plucked her fake lashes off of her eyelids. She stepped back, and sighed heavily disposing of the fake eyelashes in the trash behind her.

“You don’t know what you’re saying Danny.”

“Kiss me.”

Bianca whipped her head back to face him.

“No.”

Danny got up, staggering as he moved towards Bianca. Bianca moved until her back was pressed up against the wall of her bathroom. Danny pressed his body to hers.

“Come on, Roy. Please.” Danny begged removing Bianca’s wig gently. He dropped the hair onto the floor as he put one hand around the older queens slim waist. He tilted his chin up, looking into the dark brown eyes that were filled with lust.

Roy’s heart was racing. Having the younger queen pressed up against him was igniting the feelings all over again.

“Danny, you’re engaged I-”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything. He doesn’t have to know-”

“This is wrong, I can’t.” Roy tried to push Danny away but it wasn’t working. Danny pulled him even closer.

“Roy, remember Amsterdam?” Danny asked.

“Yes, how could I forget?” Roy asked confused.

“You technically cheated on Jason with me that night. When we kissed sharing smoke back and forth.” Danny explained.

“That wasn’t kissing.” Roy argued.

“If you won’t kiss me right now fine, smoke with me and if you get completely cross faded you owe me a kiss.” Danny grinned as he slurred.

Roy scoffed.

“Cross faded? Please. You do realize I’m a functioning alcoholic right?”

“I’m always up for a challenge, Roy. I thought you would be too.” Danny challenged darkly.

“Fine. I’ll give in to your little game. But if I win, you have to give me all of your weed.” Roy smirked.

Danny’s jaw dropped.

“Fine. Deal. Let’s fuckin’ do this!”

—-

The two of them made their way out onto the patio with a bottle of fireball, and 5 rolled joints resting on Roy’s patio table. Roy had a small glass table, with plush patio chairs, an expensive looking crystal ashtray, and a vivid purple patio light casting the whole patio in shades of blue and purple.

“Danny this is crazy-”

“Shhh.” Danny pressed his finger to his lips as he grabbed his first joint. He flicked his lighter, pressing the flame to the butt and sucked on the end of it. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke release slowly. There was a full moon tonight, and watching the smoke turn silver and light blue in the moonlight was mesmerizing to Roy.

They passed the joint back and forth in silence for a few minutes, consumed with their own thoughts.

“Shots.” Danny commanded.

Roy smirked, unscrewed the cap on the fireball and poured the contents into the two shot glasses. He then pressed the bottle to his mouth, letting the sweet cinnamon whiskey sting the back of his throat. He set the bottle down onto the table, screwed the cap back on and took another hit off of his joint, finishing it, his eyes never leaving Danny’s.

Danny’s jaw dropped.

“You-you just-”

“Shots are for pussies.” Roy said as he

lit another joint. 1 down, he thought. He grabbed his glass and downed it, smirking at the young man.

Danny watched Roy in awe as he lit his second joint, completely uneffected by 5 shots worth of Fireball and what could be 2 joints. He watched as Roy blew the smoke out from in-between his lips. God he was so fucking sexy, Danny thought.

“You tapping out already?” Roy raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck no!” Danny exclaimed, as he finished the rest of his blunt.

They were both quiet again, puffing away on their weed as they sat in the moonlight. It was still warm outside despite it being 3 am and the middle of autumn. There were some clouds in the distance, nothing too threatening to the evening however. It was nice to enjoy the night and not freeze.

“Danny can I ask you something?” Roy murmured looking at the younger man.

“Sure man.” Danny smiled as he smashed his second joint in the ash tray.

“Does he make you happy?”

Danny’s smile faltered. He gulped, looking at Roy and then looking away out towards the quiet city. The clouds were creeping in from the distance.

It was a simple question really. Did Jaremi make him happy? Yes or no.

But Jaremi didn’t make him happy. And he didn’t know if he wanted Roy knowing that.

“You don’t have to answer.” Roy whispered gazing at the younger mans panicked expression. He really did wear his heart on his sleeve.

Danny sighed in relief. Perfect, he really didn’t want to answer him anyway.

Roy could feel his head pounding as he felt his body relax. The whiskey still sat in his stomach, settling with all of the other alcohol he had that night.

They continued to smoke quietly, until it they just sat back and watched the city life outside. Roy’s body felt utterly numb at this point. He didn’t want to get up because he would probably fall straight on his face.

Fuck, it was hitting him. He was crossfaded. All of the alcohol and weed throughout the night had finally caught up with him.

“You win.” Roy mumbled. He couldn’t feel his tongue as he spoke. He wondered if he could feel himself if he were to hit himself. He slapped his face with a good amount of force, and gazed at his hand shocked. Danny looked at him bewildered. What the fuck was wrong with him, Danny thought?

“What the fuck! I can’t feel my face!” Roy exclaimed.

Danny’s laugh broke the silence of the warm night as he was doubled over in laughter. He knew he was going to win this bet as soon as Roy chugged part of that bottle of fireball, but that whole slapping bit was the nail in the coffin.

Now, Danny was feeling particularly fucked up as well. But nowhere near the level of fucked up that Roy was.

“I win, I win!” Danny danced as he laughed at Roy. He tried to roll his eyes at the younger queen, but failed miserably.

“You motherfucker, you knew I was toast. You knew I’d lose.” Roy laughed.

“Of course I did. You haven’t been smoking weed for as long as I have. I’ve mixed both multiple times.” Danny grinned proudly.

“So you aren’t as fucked up then?” Roy asked.

Danny stood there and thought about it for a moment. His vision was definitely still blurry, maybe a little more blurry then normal. His body was just barely numb, which he had hoped would be the extent of the effect from the weed.

“I mean; I’m fucked up but nothing like you.” Danny smirked.

“Fuck you.” Roy muttered.

Danny laughed and then remembered the whole reason he did this in the first place. His lips curled up in a triumphant smile.

“So I won.” Danny realized.

“Yes, I’m well aware Danny.” Roy snapped annoyed.

“That means I get my kiss.”

Roy laughed at Danny as he said the obvious. He didn’t know why he was so against kissing Danny earlier, he would probably feel warm and soft against his body. Suddenly, as if it was out of nowhere thunder clapped and a downpour of rain started.

Danny gazed at Roy who was cackling as the rain poured down on the patio in sheets. Thankfully, there was an overhang above them, so they were covered from it as long as the wind didn’t start up. The purple light made the rain sparkle in lavender shades and cast a very flattering light on Roy’s face. This rain out of no where was very unusual for California. Maybe it was a sign, Danny thought.

A flash of blue lit up the sky, and the thunder boomed loudly, startling the two of them.

“Shit! We gotta go inside baby, I hate the rain.” Roy slurred. He decided to push himself out of his chair and stood up. He couldn’t feel anything, how the hell was he supposed to walk? Panicked, he grabbed the side of the wall and held onto it for dear life.

“Let me help you.” Danny rushed over and grabbed Roy by his waist. He then helped walk him inside slowly.

He helped sit him up on his bed, and Danny laid on the other side once he had made him comfortable. He rested his back against his headboard, sighing deeply.

“I miss Prince.” Danny muttered.

Roy looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“It always surprises me that you like him. You’re an old man in disguise.”

Danny laughed loudly and nodded his head.

“I really am. He was fucking iconic though.”

“He was, I’ll agree. An odd one, but he paved the way for a lot of music today. There will never be anyone like him again.”

“I love that we can vibe and have these high conversations.” Danny laughed. Roy smiled as he adjusted his pillow on the bed.

After a few moments of silence, Roy spoke.

“Aren’t you going to claim your prize queen?”

Danny looked down into Roy’s darkened eyes. His lips were parted slightly as he stared at Danny, waiting for him to kiss him. God he really wanted him so fucking bad.

Danny smiled shyly and leaned in, closing the distance between them. He felt Roy’s soft plump lips on his for the first time in over a year.

Roy groaned with pleasure as he tasted the smoke on Danny’s breath. He instinctively grabbed his medium length dark hair and pulled him down to his chest. Danny gasped and positioned himself on top of Roy. He thrust his pelvis around firmly, grinding against him. He gripped the back of Roy’s neck, eliciting a moan out of him and felt him start to lift up his tank top. He struggled, so Danny grabbed the bottom of his tank top, hastily throwing it off and pulled Roy back into his chest. Danny rolled him over so that he was on top of him instead. He lifted up his black v neck, exposing his bronzed chest underneath and threw it off to the side of the bed. Danny rain his nails against his chest, never breaking the kiss.

“Harder.” Roy moaned in-between kisses.

“What?” Danny asked confused.

“Scratch me harder.” Roy breathed as he attempted to pull Danny even closer to him.

Danny grinned, digging his nails deeper into his chest. He moved his lips down to his jaw, and from there to his neck.

Roy tilted his head back and let another deep moan escape him as Danny scratched and kissed him. It felt so good to be touched again by the man he had been lusting after for so long.

Danny bit down on his neck as he dug his nails into Danny’s back. Once he was satisfied with scratching his back, he clawed into his chest instead. Danny let out a throaty moan and thus moving away from his neck. Roy kissed up the younger man’s chest where he had left small scratch marks. Danny moaned from the contact, and peppered kisses back up from his neck to his cheeks and finally to his lips. Their tongues swirled together but Roy broke the kiss, moving his lips down to Danny’s neck. He started biting and sucking as hard as he could. Danny’s eyes widened as he realized what Roy was doing and gently shoved him off.

They were both gasping for air, staring at each other as Danny slowly realized what he’d done.

“Why’d you push me off?” Roy asked, smirking.

“Roy, you can’t-you can’t give me a hickey.” Danny frowned as he looked down at the floor at their shirts. Shit, what had he done?

Roy stared at him for a moment, at first not understanding what was wrong, but then realizing what he had done. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable with his shirt off, scanning the room for any sign of his favorite black v neck.

“Right.” Roy mumbled, covering himself with the blanket.

“Roy, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine. I see what I am to you Danny. I’m just an easy hookup, a distraction from your fiancé isn’t that right?” Roy snapped.

“That’s not what you are to me Roy!”

“Really? Well you could’ve fooled me. I treated you way better then that asshole ever did. I would never leave you to be by yourself on a night like this!” Roy’s exclaimed.

“You know what Roy, at least he didn’t cheat on me with my best friend!” Danny snapped, feeling the tears stream down his face. He stood up, grabbing his Budweiser tank top and threw it on carelessly.

“Don’t act like you’re so high and mighty Danny. You just did to him what I did to you.” Roy pointed out annoyed.

Danny was stunned into silence. His hands were shaking as he realized he hadn’t even texted Jaremi about where he was. He didn’t even remember where his phone was.

“Which one of us do you want?” Roy asked annoyed.

He was right, Danny was no better then Roy in this situation. He had cheated on his fiancé: which was way worse.

“I don’t know anymore.” Danny admitted, wiping tears from his eyes.

Roy hated seeing the younger man cry. He reached out to touch him softly, but saw him retract his hand.

“Look, I’m sorry Danny-”

“I have to go Roy.” Danny snapped icily. He walked out of the room not looking back at the older man. He went into the bathroom really quick and grabbed his wig, before he went back into the hallway. He scanned the living room for his phone and finally found it resting on the couch before he left. Thankfully, his assistant had grabbed his things from the finale so he didn’t have to lug anything other then his wig around.

Roy heard the door slam, and winced at the echo throughout the apartment. It was safe to say they were no longer hanging out tomorrow, he thought grimly. The dogs starting barking out of control, and he sighed curling up in a ball and holding his knees to his chest. He wanted to cry, but he was too numb right now so he let himself fall asleep. Danny had obviously made his decision.

—-

Danny unlocked the door of his apartment, slowly opening the front door to not wake Jaremi.

However, Danny was in for a surprise as he saw him sitting in his old hand-me-down recliner.

“Oh my god where have you been?” Jaremi rushed to Danny worried, studying his soaking wet appearance. When he had ran from the Lyft to the apartment, his white tank top had gotten saturated. He pressed his hands to Danny’s chest and his eyes widened as he saw Roy’s claw marks through the now transparent tank top.

“Were you in a fight? There’s scratches all over your body.” Jaremi asked bewildered.

Danny’s bottom lip trembled, and he looked down at the floor riddled with guilt. He was exhausted, and really just did not want to deal with Jaremi.

“I’m fine. I’m going to bed.” Danny muttered. He dropped his wig on the floor and simply walked past the concerned man, making his way to their bedroom.

He took off his soaked jeans and tank top, changing into something more comfortable. He collapsed onto his bed, numb from all of the emotions he had been through today.

He looked at the time as Jaremi joined him silently, and a small smile crept up on his face.

4 AM.

He knew what he needed to do.

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 03 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 03

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 16.4k whups

warnings: sex jokes n references again, dolley simping for james again, but probably more this time, implied sex except dolley’s having it instead of mc, maria and angelica are girlfriends, lafayette is basically everyone’s plug for weed so like,, drug references and alcohol references??, very much sexual tension

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @cubedtriangle @lunariasilver @lexylovesfandoms @fanfic-addict-98 @stephyra17 @notebookgirl30 @exorcisms-with-elmo @kmsmedine @itshaileyn @honeyand-roses — let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

"Wait, so you're going to do it, right?"

It wasn't until Friday morning that Y/N told Dolley about Thomas's offer, both of them seated at a corner table in the coffee shop in the middle of campus. Y/N shrugged, taking a sip of her latte.

"I dunno, Doll. It seems like it could be... risky."

"How so?" Dolley set down her cup, squinting at her skeptically, and she pursed her lips.

"Listen, he's a good professor, and he and I have a good relationship or whatever, but I'm not sure what a great idea it is for me to be with him too much more often."

"Is your self-control already waning?" Dolley gave Y/N a look of disbelief, and she answered it with a sigh.

"I'm not gonna make a move on him; I swear," she said, expression dead serious, but when she continued, her voice dropped just a few decibels. "But... if I had the chance to sleep with him again, I wouldn't hesitate to take it. And I really can't have that happen."

"How the hell do you think becoming his TA is going to turn into sex?" Dolley asked incredulously. "You know I adore you, but I do not adore when you're self-sabotaging."

"I'm not self-sabotaging," Y/N insisted, and though she'd hoped the statement would sound reasonable, she just came off as defensive. "I'm being careful. I know myself, and I know that early January was some of the best sex I've had in a while."

"Sounds to me like you're pent up." Dolley raised her eyebrows, giving Y/N a pointed look, at which she scowled. "Just fuck someone from Alpha Phi Omega and then take the TA position."

"You don't get it," Y/N groaned. "Half the time, his office hours are just like some mildly awkward run-in with a one-night stand. It's casual enough that there's no real issue, but there's always just a little bit of... discomfort."

"That's called sexual tension, dear." The look in her eyes was knowing. "And it doesn't go away when you turn down positions that will look good on grad school applications."

A beat passed in silence, and finally, Y/N sighed.

"You're right. That's kinda my point, though." She pursed her lips; the nod she gave looked resigned, both disappointed and on edge. "It also doesn't go away when I do take those positions. And I don't wanna fuck up and make everything even more awkward."

"Y/N. I believe in you." Dolley took one of Y/N's hands in hers, picking it up from where she'd rested it on the table as she slumped over in her fit of angst. "You're strong. You can work with a man without fucking him."

Y/N scowled. "Well, when you put it like that, you're making it sound like I'm some kind of sex fiend."

"That's what you're acting like!"

"Fuck off, Dolley; no, I'm not." She folded her arms, pushing her mug and saucer to the side of the table. "My most recent one-night stand turned out to be my professor, and now he's asking me to be his TA. I'm allowed to be a little hesitant."

Dolley pursed her lips. "You might have a point."

"Thanks, I'm thrilled to hear it," Y/N responded dryly. "But... I'll figure it out. I doubt it could really turn out all that badly. I can handle myself."

"That's the spirit." Dolley did not sound enthusiastic. "But you really need to..."

Dolley trailed off with wide eyes, her gaze apparently having caught something across the café. Y/N eyed her skeptically, raised an eyebrow. "... Dolley? You still with me?"

She waited a moment, watching to see if her attention would recover, but when it didn't she waved a hand in front of her, trying to break her stare, but it was apparently locked elsewhere. "Hello? Anybody home?" Another moment of quiet, and eventually, Y/N snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Dolley!"

"Hm?" Her eyes snapped back to Y/N's almost too quickly, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh... um, nothing. I just spaced out." The smile that had begun to split her expression said otherwise, though.

"Oh, really?" Y/N's eyes narrowed, shifting in her chair to glance back over her shoulder. "What's back there? Did you see someone? Are you— Oh!" She stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes widening, and when she whipped back around to face Dolley, her grin was sheepish. "That's James, isn't it?"

"Shh, not so loud!" Dolley said, shoving her arm. The giddiness written across her face didn't help her case as she attempted to scold Y/N. "Yes, that's him. Yellow sweater, grey coat."

"He's cute," Y/N commented, taking another less-than-sneaky glance over her shoulder at him, before she turned back to Dolley with an expectant look. "So? Are you going to go talk to him?"

"Right now?" At the question, Dolley's smile dropped. It seemed as if she'd been blindsided, as though upon seeing the man she'd been sleeping with for weeks on end, Y/N was going to encourage her to ignore him.

"Yes, right now!" Y/N was just watching her with disbelief. "What's the issue?"

"I... I don't know," Dolley said softly. Her tiny, dopey grin had been restored, but it was now tainted with anxiety. "I really like him, but..."

"... But?"

Her sigh was heavy. "I'm worried he and I don't have much in common. He's, like, the strong and silent type, y'know?"

Y/N pursed her lips, biting back a wince. "That's so clichéd, Doll."

"I know, I know," she groaned, plastering on a pleading pout. "Just bear with me. Please."

There was a skip, and Y/N was eyeing Dolley warily. "You know I'm always here to listen. But if you get too self-destructive, I don't wanna hear it."

"I won't!" she defended, and a grin was stretching across her face at the whole situation, making Y/N's contempt soften to skepticism. "I just don't know what I want, okay? And worse yet, I don't know what he wants."

"I promise, no one's expecting you to turn into a mind reader. Least of all James."

"I know," she sighed, drawing out the words in the midst of her apparent (or perhaps dramatized) emotional exhaustion. "But he's quiet. He doesn't say much, and you know that always freaks me out a little."

"So I hear."

"But... we get along well. He's nice to be around. He puts me at ease."

"Aww, Dolley, are you falling for him?" That time, it was Y/N's turn to pull on a contrived pout, squeezing Dolley's forearm lightly, and though she rolled her eyes, Dolley still looked as though she was the least bit absent, her head still coming back down from the clouds. "That's sweet."

"I know, I know," she said, biting her lip in a weak effort to hide her smile. "But... you know me. I'm not the quiet type. Quite the opposite."

"That might even be an understatement," Y/N muttered, breaking her gaze briefly, and Dolley scoffed.

"Oh, shut up! I already know that, and I don't wanna hear it." She gave Y/N a pointed look. "But he and I are so different, and I'm worried that I'll end up being too much for him. I don't wanna be overbearing."

Her final sentence was quiet, and Y/N could hear her insecurities weakening her conviction. "You're not overbearing, or overwhelming, or 'too much,'" she assured her, and Dolley covered her hand with her own, squeezing it lightly, affection in her eyes. "And if he's right for you, I'm sure he agrees. You're excellent; don't try to change for him. It won't make you happy."

"You're right, as usual," she sighed, "And... I do want to talk to him, something you know very well. But who knows if he wants to talk to me?"

"Well, he keeps glancing over in our direction," Y/N said matter-of-factly, and Dolley's eyes went wide.

"He is? Wait, where is he?" Her gaze began to dart back and forth, and Y/N couldn't help her light laugh.

"He just got back from picking up his drink, and now he's at the table a few behind you," she said, dropping her voice before adding, "And I've already made awkward eye contact with him too many times, so now if you don't talk to him, I'm gonna look like a total creep."

"Y/N!" she scolded her, but the laugh in her voice betrayed her indignance. She glanced back over her shoulder, and Y/N saw James nod to her when he caught her gaze, the corners of his lips quirking up into a shadow of a smile. She offered him a shy wave.

Quite frankly, Y/N had never seen her like that before, not in all her years of knowing her. Dolley's baseline tended to be everyone else's two-ecstasy-pills-deep, and usually, other people in the mix just fueled the fire of her perpetual enthusiasm — Y/N had never seen a man make her timid, though, of all things.

She couldn't help but think it was kind of cute.

Dolley held his stare another moment, before he finally decided to stand, beginning to make his way over to where they were sitting, and Dolley spun around in her seat, her wide eyes meeting Y/N's. "He's headed over!" she whispered, but the panic in her voice wasn't quite authentic; more of it than Y/N would've expected was simply excitement.

"So I see," Y/N said, wry amusement coloring her tone. She glanced up to her right a moment later, taking a sip of her coffee, before saying, "It's James, right?"

Dolley let out a surprised squeak when he walked up on her left, almost flinching in her seat, and his smile was subtle.

"That would be me. And you are?" He raised his eyebrows at Y/N, taking a sip from his to-go cup.

"I'm Y/N. Dolley's roommate," she nodded to her with a grin. "I'm glad to officially meet you, after hearing about you for weeks on end."

"Y/N!" Dolley murmured, urgency thick in her voice, her accusatory stare what she seemed to think to be covert. As though James couldn't hear her from a foot away.

"I've been mentioned?" James looked pleasantly surprised, but there was no ego in his smile. Y/N nodded.

"Oh, yeah. More than a couple times," she assured him. "I can't seem to stop hearing about you, really."

He chuckled, and Dolley's gaze softened. "I should hope that's a good thing."

"I can corroborate," Y/N said. "So you're a PhD candidate?"

"That I am. Studying economics."

"So, what, you want to go into business? Accounting?"

"Public policy, actually."

"Oh, really?" Her eyebrows shot up, and her smile widened into a grin. "I like you already."

That time, his laugh was still quiet, but it was warmer, more robust. "Consider me flattered. Dolley speaks very highly of you, as well."

"Aww, Doll!" Y/N plastered on a pout, reaching across the table. "I knew you'd been secretly in love with me this whole time."

"You shut it," Dolley replied, and though she gave Y/N a pointed look, she was biting back a laugh.

"Really? You still don't wanna go public with our relationship?" Dramatized dismay permeated Y/N's voice, and anyone would've had to hand it to her - the hurt look she wore almost seemed authentic.

"Oh my God, Y/N," Dolley huffed. "That's about enough, thank you."

When she glanced back up, Dolley bit her lip once more; thankfully, James didn't look put-off by the interaction, only amused. A beat passed in silence, and Y/N shifted awkwardly in her seat, not sure what to do with the heavy, prolonged eye-contact taking place across from her. It wasn't until she picked up her mug and saucer, the ceramics clinking together, that they seemed to regain a sense of awareness.

James's eyes were wide as he glanced back at Y/N. "I... won't intrude on your coffee date any longer, but truly, it's been a pleasure, Y/N."

"Oh, no, no, don't go." She waved off his farewell, scrambling to pull her backpack onto her shoulder, picking up her dishes as she did so. "I have a meeting to be at that, really, I'm almost running late for, so please, stay. Keep Dolley company."

She gave him a bright smile as she stood, pushing her wooden chair out behind her as she collected her used napkin and mixing spoon, but Dolley looked hesitant. "Oh, that's not necessary, really. I'll be just fine—"

"Relax, Dolley. I know you deal with crippling loneliness in my absence; it's really nothing to be ashamed of," Y/N reassured her, her voice mockingly gentle. Dolley rolled her eyes; the sound that escaped her was all but a snort of laughter.

"Oh, of course, dear. Because what more could I want than to spend every minute of my day with you?" she replied sarcastically, and Y/N grinned.

"I know. It's a blessing and a curse." She took a few steps back, though, nodding to her abandoned seat as she started on her path toward the counter. "Seriously, though, James. Please, sit."

She saw him raise an eyebrow at Dolley before she turned to discard her dishes into the basin by the end of the counter.

"May I?" he asked. When Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, she caught just a glimpse of Dolley's sheepish smile.

"I'd like that."

Y/N took the back exit out.

___________________

"Are you sure I was included in that invite?" Y/N's voice was skeptical as she crossed the green toward Thomas's office, hours later. Apparently, hours that Dolley and James had ultimately spent together, taking a walk through the city for much of their afternoon. (When Dolley told Y/N that the two-mile loop near the Lincoln Memorial had taken them two hours to walk through, she had a sneaking suspicion walking wasn't all they were doing. Hopefully, they'd at least escaped the watchful eye of our oversized 16th president.)

"Yes, I'm certain you were," Dolley insisted from the other end of the phone's line. "He said it'd be great if I brought you."

"... This sounds suspiciously like a pity invite."

"It isn't a pity invite!" Y/N could hear the indignance in her voice.

"Dolley, why, exactly, would he want me there if it wasn't a pity invite?"

"... Because you're my best friend, and he's decided to make an effort to get to know you better?"

She laughed. "As much as I appreciate this idealized James Madison, I have a feeling it was more to the effect of 'I just saw your roommate and feel obligated to invite her'," Y/N corrected her. "But go to the party without me! Don't let me hold you back from having your fun, alright?"

"Please come? It wouldn't be the same without you." Dolley's voice was high, containing traces of what almost smelled like desperation. "It'll make me much more comfortable to have you along."

Y/N groaned. "So when you and James go make out in the bathroom, I'm supposed to, what, play truth or dare with all the other PhD candidates?"

"Why not?" Dolley's tone was mild, which made Y/N roll her eyes.

"No offense to James's friends, but I'm not sure I want to spend an evening making stunted small talk with them."

"You're such a warm person, though! You'd be quite alright."

"It'd be awkward!"

"Please, Y/N? I'll beg you if that's what it'll take."

She scowled at how soft, forlorn Dolley's voice had become. As far as she was concerned, this was akin to emotional manipulation. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yes. I like him so much."

She sighed. "I'm gonna say yes solely because I have somewhere to be and can't deal with this argument anymore. But you owe me."

Y/N could almost picture Dolley's sappy smile. "Thank you so much, dear. You're too good to me."

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new?" Her words elicited a laugh from Dolley, and Y/N continued, "But you know I'd do pretty much whatever you asked if you asked it in that I'm-about-to-cry voice, so I'm not sure this relationship is healthy for me anymore."

"Oh, of course; I'm truly a parasite," Dolley sighed. "Taking you into my house and home, paying for your meals — how evil of me."

"I pay half the rent, and we literally only eat ramen," Y/N defended, but the words were lighthearted nonetheless. "Next time you give up five perfectly good hours of a Friday night so that I can get laid, we'll call it even."

"Don't make any calls about Friday just yet. You haven't even seen James's friends." Dolley's voice was just teasing enough to placate Y/N. "I may not be the only one having some fun."

"Have you even seen James's friends?" Y/N asked dubiously, and Dolley's silence told her all there was to know. "That's what I thought. He's an econ student, so it's probably gonna be about eighty percent entitled rich men attending school on family money."

"Or they could all be just your type," Dolley reasoned, but by then, any efforts to talk Y/N out of her convictions were futile. "Tall, hot, and older."

"First off, I don't have a type, and second, just because you're dating an 'older man'," — The final two words were said mockingly — "doesn't mean that his older friends aren't still douches."

"I hate to have to be the one to break it to you, but that is absolutely your type."

"Based on what?"

"That professor of yours?"

"Dolley!" Y/N scowled, turning down the volume on her call just in case some passing pedestrians were notorious gossips with super-hearing. It was certainly possible. "Can you please stop talking about him like that? Don't make it a thing," she murmured, jaw tense.

"Oh, we're well past that, dear," Dolley said matter-of-factly, and Y/N could only roll her eyes. "But if you've agreed to the party, I won't push my luck."

"Smart choice," she muttered bitterly. "Anyway, I've gotta go. Talk to you later tonight?"

"Of course."

With that, she hung up the phone before Dolley could take advantage of her giving mood and start making further outlandish demands, tucking it into her coat pocket as she pushed open the door to Melos Hall. Unfortunately for her, the elevator was broken, and Thomas's office was several flights of stairs above her.

After at least eight long pauses for her to catch her breath, heaving as she leaned against the railing in the stairwell, and three stomach cramps, Y/N knocked on his door. "Anybody home?"

"C'mon in." His voice was soft, muffled through the door, and she opened it to find him all but slumped on his desk, resting his head on his hand as he graded papers he appeared to be rather cross with, and with more of said papers covering the entirety of the desk's surface (and much of the floor). He glanced up when she entered, and a soft grin split his expression. "Hey, I thought that was you."

"I'm in absolute awe of your pattern-recognition skills, really," she replied, tone dry as she let the door fall shut behind her, and despite the playful smile she wore, Thomas rolled his eyes.

"You actually here for anything, or am I gonna have to kick you out?"

She laughed. "I'm not here to derail your work, I swear." He raised a dubious eyebrow. "I was just stopping by to let you know that, assuming it's still on the table, I'd love the TA position."

"Oh, yeah?" His smile widened almost imperceptibly at her words, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "'M glad to hear it. Could've just shot me an email, though."

She shrugged. "I was headed this way anyway. Figured I may as well stop by."

"I'm not complainin'." She let out a soft huff of laughter at the words, but she could feel heat beginning to creep up the back of her neck. "'S good timing, anyway. Intro to IR just turned in an essay on Kant."

The soft groan she let out only served to amuse him further as she surveyed the wreckage of his office. "That's what all this paper is?" He nodded in confirmation, and she scrunched up her nose. "I'm not sure if I feel worse for the freshmen who had to write them or for you having to read them."

"Well, I should hope it's the freshmen," he said matter-of-factly, sitting back in his chair. The smile he wore was concerningly self-righteous. "'Cause, now, readin' these is your job, too."

Her eyebrows shot up; the dread in her gaze was the furthest thing from contrived. "... Is it too late to rescind my application as a TA?"

He shook his head. "Mm-mm. You're welcome to abandon ship."

She didn't like the satisfaction which grew in his gaze as she weighed her options; they both knew she wasn't considering turning down the position in earnest — that simple fact left Thomas unnecessarily smug. Another beat passed, and she sighed. "You're lucky this is going to look good on my grad school applications."

He laughed. "Sure am. I could use all the help I can get, right now."

"I can see that," she replied, voice laden with amusement at the state of his office.

However, Thomas said nothing more, and she shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the drawn-out silence. He raised an expectant eyebrow, and it took her a moment to grasp his intention. "Wait... d'you mean, like, right now?"

"Unless you're busy." He shrugged. His gaze was hopeful as she eyed warily the small stack of papers she'd spent the past few minutes trying not to crush under her boot. She sighed.

He grinned when she bent over to pick up the papers that'd floated to her side of the desk. "As depressing as it feels to say, I've got nowhere else to be on this fine Friday night."

"That's the spirit." He winked, and though she rolled her eyes, her amused smile was deep-set. "So, you're gradin' for accuracy and watchin' out for grammar, of course, but the points are really earned for analysis. The paper's on changes in the international system. They've gotta connect 'em back to Kant's maxims."

She let out a low whistle as she took a seat across from him, plucking a red pen from his cup and dropping her bag onto the floor. "That certainly sounds pretentious."

He laughed lightly. "You really tellin' me you didn't have to do anything like this as a freshman?"

"Oh, I wish I could say that, but unfortunately, my professor was apparently every bit the pseudointellectual you are." She nodded sadly, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Hilarious, sweetheart, really." In the dry sarcasm of his tone, the casual pet name didn't seem to register with him, but Y/N couldn't help but notice, and her breath caught. "Here, lemme get you a copy of the rubric. 'S nothin' too complicated; go easy on 'em. Got some STEM majors in the class who're just takin' it for the graduation requirement, so I'm not expectin' much."

She pursed her lips. "Are the essays that bad?"

He deadpanned as he turned back to her, sliding the rubric across the desk. "At least as bad as I'm makin' 'em sound."

Y/N let out a long, dramatic huff, rubbing her temples, and Thomas looked thoroughly entertained at her reaction.

"I'm in for a long few months, aren't I?"

______________________

Thomas texted her the next day, too — she'd been the one to ask for his number, its utility obvious considering she was now going to be working with him, but he didn't give it up without teasing her just a bit for asking. When she opened it, she found that his request was just for her to drop by and pick up as many more essays as she was willing to grade by Monday, but when she arrived at his office, it quickly became clear to both of them that she was in no hurry to leave.

She showed up around eight, a decision that had everything to do with her having been out all afternoon running errands and nothing to do with the unfortunately appealing idea of being in his office late into the night — or so she told herself. It was hesitant both when she offered to stay and work on them with him and when he accepted. As she'd cautiously anticipated, her new role felt like walking an impossibly fragile line, and it'd hardly been twenty-four hours.

Subliminal tension remained in the air, hanging heavier than either of them would've claimed, but the hours flowed by easily. The hills upon mountains of student work they had to dig through didn't feel like the burden they were, either, not with the light atmosphere they'd managed to create, cracking jokes and swapping input.

She couldn't place when it'd become so comfortable for her to be around him.

"Hey, can I get your take on this?" Y/N held up what must've been her twentieth paper of the night, red pen between her teeth, and Thomas glanced down from where he was standing beside the desk, sorting the finished papers for his classes.

"Mhm, what's up?"

"Personally, I kind of hate this kid's analysis, but I'm struggling to determine whether there's anything actually wrong with it or if I'm just biased." She pursed her lips. "Here, come look at this third paragraph."

He set down the essay he was leafing through and walked around to join her, resting one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk beside her. He wasn't looking in her direction, his lips pursed as he scanned the page. However, her heart rate had begun to pick up in the immediate proximity, and she was on edge, able to feel his body heat radiating off of him from just inches to her left. Her breath hitched when he spoke. "This essay's a mess."

Despite the tension in her body, she let out a surprised laugh. "My thoughts exactly."

"Which part are you strugglin' with?"

"Right here." She turned the paper slightly, its words now directly facing him, and tapped on the sentence that'd given her pause. "It's not a great interpretation of the quote he used, in my opinion, but it's one I've heard in academic circles time and time again. It's defensible, but since his organization is fundamentally nonexistent, I'm not sure how well he's defended it."

Thomas raised an amused eyebrow. "How much of your free time are you dedicatin' to discussin' Kant?"

Y/N only rolled her eyes, ignoring the thrum of her heart against her ribcage as he turned his head to face her. He was only inches away. "Oh, shut up; I'm not dedicating any." He eyed her with disbelief, and she could tell he was still stuck on her first sentence. "I took a class focused on this book in high school, alright?"

"What kinda high school did you go to?"

"The class was through a local university." She shrugged, and he looked rather impressed. The small smile he wore wasn't helping her spiking pulse. "What? I was hoping to graduate from college early. I would've, too, if I hadn't spent a year traveling to figure out my life."

"And your plan for gettin' college credit was to take a philosophy class, of all things? Does that even fulfill a credit requirement?" Despite the disbelief in his voice, he seemed somewhat fascinated with the idea, was watching her like she was some sort of a puzzle.

"Anywhere I went would've made me retake core classes," she said mildly, and he cocked his head to one side. It wasn't lost on her how he hadn't withdrawn even a centimeter; she could feel traces of his breath on her skin. "It was just another credit toward graduation."

He gave an obliging nod, a half-shrug at her words. "Guess so. You surprise me sometimes, though."

"It's also made your class a breeze, but that's just an added bonus," she added, and he laughed, breaking his deliberative demeanor.

"You really think my class is easy?"

She shrugged, wearing a self-contented smile. "My grades speak for themselves, don't they?"

"I seem to remember a couple nights of office hours that'd contradict that." He raised an amused eyebrow, giving her a pointed look, but her grin broadened.

"Listen, if you gave clearer instructions, I wouldn't need to show up here twice a week to ask you what the fuck you were talking about, alright?"

He gave a skeptical hum. "Now, why aren't you askin' your questions in class, then? 'S awfully selfish; I'm sure your classmates would benefit from hearin' the answers, too."

"I think they'd benefit more from you actually doing your job."

"If you aren't askin', how am I supposed to know what isn't makin' sense?" He shrugged, and the playful glint in his eyes had her gaze locked onto his. He didn't think a single second further before he continued; over the past few minutes, his mind had reverted to its setting from one fateful January night spent in the speakeasy on 4th Street. "Or, maybe, you've just been comin' here at night lookin' to get me alone."

She inhaled sharply; her stomach turned, and at first, neither of them broke the eye contact. When Y/N finally did, it was because her stare had trailed down to rest at his lips, and she swallowed roughly at the smug smile he wore. Her gaze jumped back to his — he raised an eyebrow. Apparently, her wandering eyes hadn't gone unnoticed.

Something about it was intoxicating, whether due to the musky scent of his cologne or to the wild, forbidden temptation of it all. Y/N was certain that, were this the Garden of Eden, she'd fare no better than Eve.

It was her nerves that saved her, ultimately. She was terrified to push that boundary, and despite his usually-lighthearted teasing, Thomas had resolutely decided where lay the line he couldn't cross. Thus, neither of them moved for another moment, but Y/N drew in a shaky breath, turning her head back to the paper before them.

"So, what's your conclusion on the essay?" Her voice was small, and it was only then that Thomas seemed to have remembered where they were. A shudder ran through his spine; it almost looked to be shaking him back to the present, metaphysically knocking some sense into him.

The silence was heavy as his eyes ran over the paper, muttering the words under his breath as he read and re-read the paragraph. He'd shifted further from Y/N, his adamant decision being that the more space there was between them, the less likely he was to forget himself, and his brow was knit as he stared down at the words. "This interpretation's full of shit," he huffed. "Think this kid plagiarized it; doesn't seem like he understands it. From what I can tell, he pulled half the language from other authors."

He picked it up with him when he drew back from Y/N, returning to his side of the desk. It was then that her breathing once again leveled out.

"So should I assume he's not getting the complexity point?" The expression she contrived was intended to be lighthearted, but it was laden with tension.

"'S doubtful. 'M gonna have to meet with him sometime this week. Just hopin' I won't have to report it as some kinda case of academic dishonesty." He folded it in half, pulling his briefcase onto the desk and tucking it in among his many other loose papers. "But for now, 's gettin' late; I need to head out. My roommate'll be wonderin' where I am pretty soon."

He didn't meet her eyes for another moment, instead focused on getting his office in order as much as it could be for the evening, and Y/N plunked his red pen back into its metal cup. She stretched as she stood from her chair wordlessly, letting out a light yawn. "Yeah, that's a good call. I think we're both a little out of it; probably not the best for grading essays right now." She offered Thomas a conciliatory smile when he glanced over at her. He nodded.

"I think you're right." A moment passed in silence as he dug through one of his folders, dropped something into one of the drawers of his desk. It almost seemed offhanded when he asked, "Any chance I can offer you a ride home? Your place is on my way."

"Oh, um..." She blinked as she trailed off, looking back at him in surprise as she picked up her bag. When she didn't continue, only eyeing him warily, he sighed.

"Don't look at me like that." He shrugged on his jacket. "I don't have some ulterior motive, alright? If you don't wanna accept, don't worry about it; I won't be offended. Just wanna make sure you're gettin' home safe."

"I dunno..." She paused, seeming to have corrected herself midsentence when she finished with, "... Professor Jefferson. I'm not sure it's the best idea."

"Your call," he said, and he hesitated for a long moment before continuing. "For the future, can I ask you to just tell me straight out if I'm ever makin' you uncomfortable? Wish I could pretend this was just any other circumstance—" He gestured between the two of them. "—but it's my first time spendin' a semester teachin' a student who I slept with before, and I'm really tryin' not to overstep."

How matter-of-factly he spoke made Y/N laugh, a genuine, albeit surprised, laugh. "Don't worry. I'm not uncomfortable; I just don't know if it's smart for me to keep testing my self-control."

He watched her skeptically as she spoke, pulling her own coat back on. "... Alright, but I'm serious. Don't hesitate to bring it up if I'm toein' a line."

She looked back at him, amusement thick in her gaze. "Thanks, but I'm not sure your untarnished intentions are going to stop this from being weird once in a while. It's also my first time having a professor who I've screwed, for the record."

He smiled. "I figured."

"But if I really minded," she continued, buttoning up her jacket. "I wouldn't spend so much time in your office hours, and I certainly wouldn't have agreed to be your TA. Seriously, relax."

He sighed. "That's... reassurin', actually."

"I'm glad."

"But what was that about you testin' your self-control?" He raised a teasing eyebrow, and she laughed outright.

"See, you say you're trying to respect my boundaries, but when you go down that path, I have to wonder exactly where you think those boundaries are."

"I'm drawin' the line where it stops just bein' talk, Y/N," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, though. 'S why I need to know your boundaries. You've gotta talk to me; I don't wanna push it 'n make you feel unsafe."

"You're a good guy for even asking this, Thomas," she said, and he didn't even react before she corrected herself, "Sorry; Professor Jefferson. But I mean it, you've never once made me feel unsafe. Please don't stress over it."

"Alright. Lemme know if that changes." He eyed her with a certain degree of worry. "As long as we're talkin' about you bein' unsafe, though, 'm still waitin' to hear exactly how you're plannin' to get home tonight."

She gave him a soft smile. "Is the offer for a ride still on the table?"

____________________

James's house party was exactly a week from that night. It'd been all Dolley wanted to talk about ever since they were invited, and Y/N couldn't help her consistent, underlying, low-level dread as she anticipated the event. She wasn't intimidated by the prospect of an apartment full of graduate students; that much was genuinely the truth. The real issue she had was with being in an apartment full of strangers while her only friend present was off being wooed by the grad student she'd now had her eye on for months.

She kept repeating to herself that it was only a few hours, and then she'd be able to hold it over Dolley's head until the day they were both six feet under.

"That's what you're wearing?" Y/N raised an eyebrow at Dolley's cable-knit sweater and black jeans, and she furrowed her brow.

"What's wrong with it? We're dressed practically the same."

"But I'm not going there tonight looking to getting laid," she pointed out, and Dolley huffed.

"If I change, you have to change. I can't look like I made more of an effort than you did; it'll make me seem out of place."

"Come on; this sweater's comfortable," Y/N groaned. "I've already agreed to go with you; I feel like my contribution is finished. I'm not trying to look hot; I'm trying to blend in."

"What if one of his econ-student friends is hot?"

"Then I'll wait until the night's over and never see him again." The look she gave Dolley very clearly read 'duh,' and Dolley scowled.

"Come on, you don't even have to wear anything flashy," she pleaded. "If I change, can't you just put on a tank top? Or something tighter? Or a skirt? Something?"

Y/N eyed Dolley's expression dubiously; she'd figured the emotional manipulation would've ended the week before when she agreed to come to the party with her, but apparently not. Ultimately, she sighed — even these past few weeks had been the longest amount of time she'd seen Dolley attached to the same guy. She could make an exception. "Fine."

Dolley squealed, pulling her into a hug. "Alright; go change quickly. Grab the nice vodka and meet me in the car."

"Wait, we're bringing the nice vodka?" Y/N called after her, incredulous. "Hang on, we spent almost twenty bucks on that! We can't bring it to share!"

Dolley didn't respond, and Y/N let out a sigh of defeat.

___________________

"James, hey!" When they arrived at his apartment, Dolley didn't waste a moment before pulling him into a hug. They hadn't even passed the doorway. While it seemed to have caught him by surprise, it only took him a second to process her sudden action before his arm fell to the small of her back.

"Hey, I'm glad that both of you could make it," he said, nodding to Y/N with a smile as she stood awkwardly behind them. Dolley finally pulled away. "Can I get you two something to drink?"

"That would be excellent." Dolley flashed him a wide smile as they walked in, Y/N pulling the door shut behind her.

"Actually, where are the drinks?" Y/N asked, hands tucked into her pockets as she surveyed the space. The apartment was cute, bigger than Y/N would've expected that James could afford on the budget of a student, and it was, as expected, littered with James's other friends, slumped on his couch, laying on each other, seated on the floor — wherever they could fit, really. The three who'd all slotted themselves into the same armchair were passing a blunt back and forth, and Y/N wondered how difficult it'd be for her to get in on that. "We brought a bottle."

James raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Mhm. Doll, it's in your purse, right?"

"Yeah, hang on a minute." Dolley's words were all but absentminded as she pulled her purse from her shoulder, unzipping it and beginning to dig through her mountains of knickknacks.

"Well, that's nice of you, but it was awfully unnecessary." James gave her a warm smile. "Let me show you both to the kitchen."

"Thanks, James," Y/N responded; Dolley seemed preoccupied with her purse, though, her brows knitting more and more tightly by the second as she overturned her empty lipstick tubes and discarded keychains. Y/N nudged her with her elbow. "Everything alright?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "We left the vodka in the car."

"You're kidding," Y/N groaned. "I was looking forward to breaking that open."

"I'm sorry, dear," Dolley said, lightly squeezing Y/N's forearm. "Let me just run out and get it. I'll be back in a moment."

"No, you're fine. I'll grab it," Y/N said quickly, plastering on a smile before Dolley could move. "I'd rather leave you two to your own devices. Can I borrow your keys?"

Dolley rolled her eyes at how Y/N wiggled her eyebrows; she even coaxed a laugh out of James. "Of course. Remember to lock the car, and be back soon."

"You've got it." Y/N sent her a wink as she caught the keys Dolley tossed her, turning swiftly on her heel toward their door.

_______________________

The walk back to the building's parking garage was cold; Y/N was grateful the concrete walls were there to stifle the chill of the wind, but she regretted letting Dolley talk her into that tank top.

She'd left the bottle in the glove compartment, apparently, something Y/N only found after digging through the trunk and the backseat. She didn't mind how long the expedition ended up taking her; the longer she could stall returning to the party, the better. The night would inevitably be painful, as she saw it; she had no desire to third-wheel James and Dolley for hours, so her best hope was to find someone to get drunk or high with.

Almost a half-hour had passed before she once again found herself at James's apartment door, still shivering from the cold spring night and, that time, armed with 750 milliliters of Absolut Citron Vodka. She was almost grateful for how long the walk up had been. By then, she could hear the bass booming from whatever music they'd set up; the sound of heavily overlapping chatter was muffled through the door yet still notably prominent. She rang the doorbell with hesitant fingers, wondering for a moment whether or not Dolley would even notice if she spent the remainder of the night getting drunk and playing Angry Birds in her locked car.

The click of the door unlocking broke her musings.

"Hey, so I got the vodka; do you know where Dolley—?" She cut herself off midsentence when it was swung entirely open. It'd taken her a moment too long to process who was standing before her, no longer in the slacks and button-down she'd gotten used to, but instead wearing a tight, v-neck t-shirt and jeans. She held Thomas's wide-eyed stare with one of her own. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, last I checked," he said. Her eyes widened. "What are you doin' here?"

She eyed him dubiously for another moment, unsure whether she could've just been losing her mind. He just watched her tentatively, and ultimately, she let out a halfhearted, breathy laugh. "James invited me. Do you know his friend Dolley?"

"I've heard of her," he responded mildly, and Y/N nodded, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, I'm her roommate." He didn't respond at first, still seeming hesitant to respond one way or another, and her shadow of a smile broadened to a cheeky grin; she extended her hand for him to shake. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Another beat passed without him knowing quite how to react, glancing down to her outstretched hand. "... Are you serious, right now?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" She raised an eyebrow. "...and you are?"

His skepticism didn't subside for another moment; the next ten seconds were akin to a standoff, and Y/N didn't let up with her cheery front. Finally, he let out a breathy laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Thomas. 'M James's roommate." He shook her hand obligingly, and she looked beyond self-contented at the entertained glint in his eye. "C'mon in."

She followed him inside, self-satisfaction building in her chest, and he glanced back over his shoulder to her. "So, almost everyone's in the livin' room, and drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever."

"Thanks. You've got a nice place," she replied, perusing the rooms as they crossed through them. "D'you know where James is, by chance?"

"Not sure; why?" His voice was raised over the racket flooding in from all sides.

"Because wherever he is, I'm sure Dolley isn't far behind," she said, voice low and bordering on sour, and Thomas grinned.

"I saw them goin' to his room a little while back, so you might not have a lotta luck." She groaned at his words, and he laughed quietly, looking to her with tentative eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he nudged her arm. "Here, c'mon. Let's get you a drink, and I'll introduce you to my friends."

Her eyebrows shot up. Quite frankly, she'd expected to be on her own for the evening, spending the next couple hours sniffing out the stoners who could help her make the time pass a little bit more quickly. Thomas's expression was wary at her reaction. "That okay? You're welcome to go it alone."

His gentle tone eased her livewire nerves. She offered him a small smile. "No, no, a drink sounds excellent. Thanks."

He grinned. "Alright, sweetheart. C'mon." Her skin jumped under his touch when his hand came to rest at the small of her back, leading her through the tightly packed crowd alongside him, but he didn't seem to notice. Though she could feel heat rushing to her cheeks, she followed without hesitation.

The pair emerged just a few short minutes later with two red Solo cups. Y/N appeared to be substantially less bitter than she had been, whether the smile she wore was because Thomas had managed to placate her with his advanced mixology skills (he'd never give away his elusive vodka Sprite recipe) or because of, for once, how relaxed he seemed with her, his arm having fallen to her waist as he gave her the 411 on everyone she'd soon find scattered on the couches.

Part of her couldn't help but be surprised, though she didn't let that ruin her relaxation. She supposed it must have just been the change in environment, but the difference in attitude between this Thomas and her Professor Jefferson seemed to be night and day. Gone was the cautious air of professionalism, the guarded front he carried when he discussed with her their most recent unit.

It may have just been because he was already two beers deep into the evening, but no matter.

Upon reaching his living room, Thomas was greeted enthusiastically by a few different (incredibly attractive) people, including the three she'd seen sharing a joint earlier on.

"Thomas!" one of the women shouted. "Come sit with us! Where have you been all night?"

"Oh, hey, Maria; 's nice to see you, too. I'm great, thanks for askin'," he said sarcastically, offering her a contrived smile, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, whatever. I just don't like being avoided, Jefferson," she replied, giving him an unamused look. "So are you joining us or not, hm? Time-sensitive offer."

He cracked a grin. "Yeah, yeah, alright." He glanced down to Y/N and raised an eyebrow, a silent ask as to whether or not she wanted to stay, and she gave him a small smile, a short nod.

They both took seats on the couch opposite Maria, Thomas nonchalantly greeting the man on at its furthest end who he called 'Monroe.' Y/N didn't bother to question it — quite frankly, she never expected to be in any sort of situation meeting Thomas's friends, and she certainly hadn't seen it coming when she was leaving home that night. She shifted in her seat, feeling rather self-conscious and out of her league on this.

"And who is your pretty friend, hm?" The man sitting beside Maria turned to Y/N with a bright, curious smile. "Where 'ave you been hiding 'er from us?"

At that, she laughed — his buoyant manner eased her nerves, if only in the least. "I'm Y/N."

Before she could determine exactly how to explain her knowing Thomas, Lafayette cut in, eyes shining. "Ah, you are ze TA, non?"

"Oh, um..." Her eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, that's me. You've heard about me?"

"We cannot seem to stop 'earing about you, chérie," he drawled, wearing a wry smile. "Although, I do not believe zat someone told us you would be 'ere tonight." Though he gave Thomas a pointed look, taking another hit of the lit blunt he held lazily between his fingers, and Thomas only rolled his eyes.

"James invited her, actually," he said. "Y'know his girl Dolley? Y/N's her roommate."

Y/N mentally archived his words; she was sure Dolley would enjoy hearing she'd been referred to as 'James's girl.' Lafayette raised his eyebrows. "What a twist of fate," he mused. "If not for James, we may 'ave only ever been able to 'ear your stories about 'er. It is lovely to meet you, Y/N."

"Yeah, you too." She offered him a timid smile, adjusting the straps of her shirt. "So what's Thomas told you about me, then?"

The woman sitting beside Maria on the end of the other couch, legs draped over her lap, interjected, "Just about everything, honey. I mean, first, all the gossip about him accidentally having slept with a student, of course."

While Y/N was thoroughly entertained, Thomas rolled his eyes, but how he was shifting in his seat betrayed his air of nonchalance. The woman continued, "And since then, you've been an ever-growing saga. My favorite story is still you going to his office just to yell at him." The look in her eyes was amused as they flickered between Y/N and Thomas. "Personally, I find it more entertaining than the grumbling about not knowing how to teach a student he's fucked, especially when the sex was so—"

"Alright, that's about enough, Ang," Thomas cut her off, looking more exasperated than annoyed as he shot her a warning look, and she wore a wide grin.

"Oh, come on, I was just getting started," she complained. "Not my fault you can't keep things to yourself. I just don't think it's fair to keep poor Y/N here in the dark."

"Yeah, really, Jefferson," Maria piped back up. "Don't you think she should get a say?"

She raised her eyebrows at Y/N with a playful smile, and she couldn't help the grin she wore that threatened to broaden. However, Thomas scowled.

"Remind me to get friends who aren't gonna rat me out, next time." He took a sip of his drink, eyeing Maria and Angelica dubiously, but neither of them wavered. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you're owning up to it?"

He looked over at her with an irked gaze, but the corners of his lips were quirked up. "You stay outta this."

"Hey, that isn't fair!" she protested, knocking her elbow into his, and he pursed his lips. "This is all absolutely my business. I feel like my privacy as a student's been violated, professor."

"Oh, so now you'll call me 'professor'?"

Despite how skeptically he was eyeing her, his smile grew, and she shrugged innocently. "I've been doing my best."

"'M sure you have."

"You don't sound too sure," she countered, taking a sip of her drink. "I don't like having my integrity questioned. Shouldn't you be able to trust your TA?"

"Maybe I will once you prove yourself worth trusting." He shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please. If anything, you're the one who's proved you can't keep a secret." The side of her thigh rested against his as she cast a pointed glance back at his friends. "I guess, next time, I'll have to be sure not to sleep with such a gossip, won't I?"

He grinned. "Good luck finding someone better."

He looked beyond self-satisfied as her eyes widened; her heart jumped to her throat. Despite everything, the air between them was charged, and Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

It took Y/N a moment to break his heavy gaze, not having noticed the silence stretching on throughout the group. Angelica and Maria exchanged a glance. It wasn't until he met Lafayette's skeptical stare that Thomas cleared his throat, cracking the atmosphere.

"I'm gonna go get myself another drink," he said, pushing himself up off of the couch. He glanced down at Y/N, and then turned to the rest of his friends. "Try not to traumatize Y/N while I'm gone."

"Oh, no need to worry," Lafayette said, his gaze alight, and Thomas narrowed his eyes skeptically. "We will take very good care of 'er."

________________________

Thomas returned later than he'd planned to — the couple broken bottles and failed keg stand he found in his kitchen were an unfortunate detour — but when he did, Lafayette had taken his seat, and Monroe had split. Y/N sat all but leaning into his side, giggling at whatever it was he was saying as they passed his joint back and forth, and in turn, Thomas took the now-empty seat on Y/N's other side.

She'd just finished shouting something over at Maria when Thomas spoke, breaking her focus.

"So I see you two got awful close while I was gone," he said, tone dry as he glanced between her and Lafayette, and Y/N only seemed to notice just then that he was even there. She turned to him with a mellow grin.

"Hey, Thomas, Lafayette was just telling me all about how you went to undergrad together." A hardly-contained giggle was concealed in her voice. He raised an eyebrow.

"That so?"

Y/N nodded, absentmindedly taking the blunt back from where Lafayette held it out to her. "I hear you were just as uptight then as you are now."

"Oh, I'm uptight, now?" When she shrugged unapologetically, he didn't meet her gaze, instead leaning around to look at Lafayette, who looked beyond pleased with himself. "So by 'take care of her' you meant you were gonna get Y/N high?"

Lafayette shrugged, wearing a lazy smile. "You did not ask me to elaborate on it, mon cher."

Thomas's deadpanned expression didn't change, but Y/N snickered at Lafayette's words before taking another hit. She leaned back onto his shoulder as she turned in her seat to face Thomas, scrutinizing the whole of his stature, and he winced when she inadvertently blew smoke into his face.

"What, are you jealous?" she drawled, her tone taunting, and Thomas raised an unamused eyebrow.

"'Jealous'?" he repeated, almost in disbelief, and she shrugged.

"Mmhmm." Her hum of agreement was drawn out dramatically. "Why do you feel the need to judge me for it? Y'know, if you wanted a hit, you could've just asked." When she extended Lafayette's joint to him as if it were an olive branch, watching him expectantly all the while, he hesitated, unsure if that was the candid conclusion she'd drawn. Her conviction didn't waver; he could only laugh.

"Alright, sweetheart." He leaned forward, and she looked pleased when he plucked it from between her fingers. "I think you've had about enough of that."

However, moments later, he put it out on a coaster, and she whined. "Hey. Don't be an ass." She plastered on a pout, kicking his calf halfheartedly, and she slumped back onto Lafayette, looking up at him with disappointment. "Looks like you were right about 'uptight.'"

Lafayette matched her frown, shifting so his arm was resting at her waist as they both faced Thomas. "And to think zat I paid good money just for zat to go to waste."

"Stop being a spoilsport, Thomas," Maria shouted, eyeing him with contempt. "You're not Y/N's mother; let her live."

"I'm not actin' like anybody's mother," he scowled, throwing a pillow in her direction, and missing by about a foot.

"Could've fooled me," Angelica muttered into her drink, and while Thomas glared at her, Y/N laughed.

"Oh, loosen up." Thomas's eyebrows shot up when she pulled her legs up into his lap, now fully laying on Lafayette's torso. "We aren't in class, professor."

He eyed her skeptically. "Y'know, if my friends didn't seem to like you more than they like me, I'd have started tryin' to kick you outta here by now." Despite his dry tone, the words held no bite, and she laughed.

"Well, I'm James's guest, not yours, so I don't think that's quite within your jurisdiction," she replied frankly, wearing a wide, sly smile. "Besides, you're just bitter I'm stealing your friends."

"She makes an excellent point," Lafayette interjected, wearing a playful smile, and Y/N giggled as she leaned back to look at him. However, Thomas only rolled his eyes.

Though no retort sat on the tip of his tongue, his focus instead on how his stomach turned as Lafayette's arm looped around Y/N's waist, pulling her close, any chance he had to respond died the moment the brief rapport between Lafayette and Y/N was interrupted, both their voices light.

"I'm glad to see that you've all made yourselves comfortable." Everyone turned, though at different rates, toward the voice at the other side of the couch. There stood one James Madison, looking as cool and collected as ever, Dolley at his side. However, she didn't so much hold up the composed air; her hair was mussed, though she'd obviously tried to push it back into place, if only hastily, and her cheeks were still flushed pink with James's arm around her.

"Hey, haven't seen you two in a while," Y/N said, wearing a sly, lazy smile. "What have you been up to back in James's room, huh?"

"We were just talking," Dolley defended timidly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, but her wide grin betrayed her bashfulness.

"Oh, I'm sure," Y/N replied, voice saturated with sarcasm. "And a prerequisite for that is obviously locking yourselves in his bedroom."

Dolley didn't respond, just pursed her lips, only meeting Y/N's gaze, but James laughed good-naturedly. "In any case, we've returned. I trust everyone's made you feel welcome, Y/N?"

She shrugged, glancing to the group around her. "More or less. Would've been better if someone hadn't decided to play bad cop and restrict any 'illegal or dangerous activity,'" she said, tying together all the haughtiness she could manage into her voice as she gave Thomas a pointed look. However, he only shrugged unapologetically.

Lafayette took that moment to pipe up, though. "And, now, why did you not bother to tell anyone zat Y/N would be joining us after we 'ad all 'eard so much about 'er?" His tone was accusatory, but James didn't quite seem to follow, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean 'after we had all heard so much about her'?" he echoed, but his gaze drew back to Y/N and then to Thomas, and he raised his eyebrows, seeming to have connected the dots. "Hang on, is this your Y/N?"

Y/N couldn't have explained why she felt her skin begin to heat at the words, but she certainly wasn't about to protest them. Thomas scowled. "She's my TA, assumin' that's what you mean."

"That was not what I meant, but it answers my question regardless," James said, but as he spoke, Dolley's face split into a grin.

"So I take it you're 'Professor Jefferson,' then?"

"Thomas," he corrected her with an easy smile, extending a hand for her to shake. "And where've you heard about me?" He glanced to Y/N with his words, a teasing eyebrow raised, and she huffed.

"I see that IR degree you like to flaunt must not have tested your inductive reasoning skills." Her scowl didn't hide her unease, and he grinned, lightly squeezing her calf where her legs were draped over his.

"No need to be so hostile, sweetheart."

Dolley's smile was knowing as she glanced between the two of them. "In any case, I've been told quite a bit about you. Though, you're much bigger in person."

That one genuinely had him confused. "Bigger than what?"

"That faculty profile picture on the university website that a certain someone keeps showing me?" she explained, and he laughed outright. In the meantime, Y/N had managed to weasel Lafayette's drink from his hand and drain the cup in one fell swoop, claiming that 'she needed it far more than he did.' He didn't put up much of a fight.

However, Thomas was far from done. "Oh, really, now?" he said, lips pursed to stifle his entertainment as he looked over to Y/N, meeting her wavering glare. "Wonder who that could be."

Y/N didn't respond, didn't trust her voice enough to try to when Thomas's hand rested on her knee, and she could feel her cheeks flare. "I don't know how I'm expected to make it through tonight without weed," she grumbled, shifting where she sat against Lafayette, not meeting Thomas's eyes. Dolley's grin mirrored Thomas's, then.

"Aw, is everything okay, dear? Did I say something wrong?" she asked mildly, and Y/N's withering gaze turned to her.

"Oh, don't you start," she said, accusation heavy in her voice as she jabbed a wavering finger at Dolley. "You're really gonna throw me under the bus like this after I came here just so you could fuck James?"

To Y/N's dismay, Dolley looked far from ashamed at her words, her playful expression holding firm. "I think that perhaps you're just jealous."

Y/N hummed noncommittally. "Mmh, don't give yourself too much credit, babe. You're not that good in bed."

While Dolley could only gape at her for another moment as she passed Lafayette back his empty plastic cup, something he didn't seem to mind, James looked thoroughly entertained. "Is there something happening between the two of you that I should be worried about?"

"Nah, don't worry." Y/N shifted in her seat to turn, looking back at him now. "You're more than welcome to my sloppy seconds."

"Y/N!" Dolley all but recoiled, seemingly incredulous at the claim. When Y/N only shrugged in response, she turned to James with wide, pleading eyes. "Believe me, she and I were never together."

"Oh?" he asked, turning to Y/N, who sighed.

"Alright, alright. I don't wanna push it, so I'll confess: I broke it off with Dolley before it could ever get that far," she drawled, having contrived a forlorn facade. "Her loss, really."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Dolley said, rolling her eyes, and when a grin split her friend's expression, Dolley turned to Thomas, meeting his amused gaze. "Would you care to corroborate?"

Then, it was Dolley's turn to be entertained. Thomas was only glad they couldn't see the blood drain from his face at the point-blank question, though his surprised unease was obvious in his wide-eyed stare. He tensed, and Y/N could feel it as the fingertips of his hand resting on her lower thigh tightened around her leg. "Excuse me?"

Y/N bit back a smile. She glanced between the two of them, and Dolley's expression was a duplicate of her own hardly-suppressed laugh, but seeing Thomas's obvious discomfort, she could only sigh.

"My buzz from Lafayette's weed is wearing off," she said, the words directed at no one in particular, withdrawing her legs from their place on Thomas's lap and pushing herself up from where she sat against Lafayette. She turned to Dolley when she stood. "I'm gonna grab myself something to drink. You wanna come with me?"

She swallowed her grin. "I'd love to."

Y/N looped her arm through Dolley's as she began to pull away from the group, dealing out a fleeting apology to James for stealing his girl. Once they were out of earshot, had reached a quiet lull with the crowd in the kitchen, Dolley turned to Y/N with an arched brow.

"You and Professor Fuck-Me were getting pretty friendly back there, weren't you?"

"'Professor Fuck-Me'?" Y/N repeated with a snort. "Creative."

"I'm entirely serious, dear," Dolley said, wearing a teasing smile as she nudged Y/N with her elbow. "I faintly recall saying something about James's friends being just your type. Was I wrong?"

"Oh, come on, don't do this," Y/N groaned. "We've long since agreed that nothing's going to happen. Him being James's roommate doesn't suddenly change the fact I'm an undergrad, for fuck's sake."

"Well, if he and James are around the same age, he isn't much older than you and I. So if I can get with James, why would you and Thomas be so illicit?"

"Because James doesn't work here, Dolley," she said, looking at her seriously as she reached for the vodka they'd brought (and she'd tucked out of sight behind the toaster next to the fridge). "Thomas, a professor, getting with me, a student, could end his career. You do realize that, don't you?"

Dolley sighed as she dug through the cooler in front of the counter, ultimately withdrawing a Fanta, and Y/N quirked a brow. Dolley was either preparing to be their designated driver, or she was trying not to get so buzzed that James wouldn't fuck her, and Y/N could only hope it was the former. After a moment, Dolley responded, "Yes, I know it's futile, but isn't it a nice thought?"

"...Sure." Y/N looked skeptical.

"Oh, please, you know it, too," Dolley reasoned, dismissing Y/N's hesitation with a wave of her hand. "You're clearly attracted to one another, and I'm dating his roommate. It would be—"

"Can we stop talking in impossible hypotheticals?" Y/N cut her off. "I get that you think it'd be fun, but I'm both his student and his TA. It's not like that. He and I are friends." The added emphasis on her final word did little to dissuade Dolley, but Y/N had something of a point. Why hope for what you can't have?

Before Dolley could respond, Y/N went on, "But, hey, can we go back to the fact that you and James are dating now? Since when? Why didn't you tell me?"

She bit her lip to keep back her smile. "Oh. Well, it's not... official, really, but he asked me on our first actual date just a couple of hours ago. We're doing dinner and a movie next week."

"Dolley!" Y/N exclaimed, swatting her arm. Her jaw was slack, her awestruck expression mildly contrived, but her excitement was entirely genuine. "That's so exciting. I'm really glad for you. Seriously."

"Thank you, but we've yet to see how the date actually goes," Dolley said. Y/N didn't appreciate her dismal tone.

"You already know him pretty well. And you already know you like him," Y/N pointed out. "I think you'll have a good time, but you can always text me if you need me to call you with a horror story about how my spleen gave out and I desperately need you to drive me to the emergency room."

"I appreciate the offer, dear, but shouldn't you call an ambulance instead?"

"Under this healthcare system?" Y/N eyed Dolley as though she was losing her mind. "I'd sooner Uber."

"How lovely to hear that you'd die if I weren't around to take care of you," Dolley said dryly, finally cracking open her soda. "I can only imagine what you'll do after graduation."

"Get health insurance, ideally," Y/N huffed, the sound akin to a wry laugh, but her heart wasn't in it — even with all the hot-for-teacher jokes she'd been making for the past few weeks, that was her least believable quip. She took a long sip from the fresh, new, shiny Solo cup she'd poured herself and nudged Dolley. "Hey, when we go back, you've gotta stop making jokes about me screwing Thomas. They're cute behind closed doors, but you're just making him uncomfortable."

Dolley didn't meet Y/N's eyes as she started back toward their living room. "Alright, but only because I love you. I wouldn't want Thomas to take my place in your heart."

"Aw, Doll, he could never!" Y/N called after her, "You know I've only got eyes for you."

"You'd better." Dolley sent her a wink as they reached James and company.

When they finally turned, breaking the playful eye contact, they found Lafayette and Maria crouched on the floor beside their coffee table, laying out a hoard of plastic cups. Y/N assumed they weren't looking to try their hand at speed stacking. "Are we playing beer pong?" Dolley asked, glancing between the pair.

"Yeah, you in?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow as she held up a ping-pong ball between two fingers. Dolley grinned.

"Absolutely." When she turned to James, though, Y/N was mildly offended; she folded her arms as Dolley offered him a hand. "Care to join me?"

He joined her wordlessly, giving a shrug, but he wore a wide smile, and Y/N scoffed loudly. "Excuse me?" James looked taken aback at her combative tone, turning swiftly on his heel to face her. Nevertheless, Dolley wasn't taking her too seriously, and for good reason. "You sleep with one grad student, and suddenly, years of winning beer pong together mean nothing to you?"

Dolley rolled her eyes, glancing between her and Thomas with a sly, growing smile. "No need to be jealous, dear. I'm sure you can find a perfectly suitable graduate of your own."

When Dolley met his gaze, watching him expectantly, he looked her up and down, a dubious eyebrow raised. "What're you lookin' at?"

"Oh, sure, act as if you don't know," she said, stare turning skeptical. "Y/N, you may want to find yourself a more perceptive professor in the future. I'm not so sure about this one."

Y/N laughed when she turned back away from the table to see Thomas's bewildered expression. "Oh, c'mon, lay off of him." Y/N tugged Dolley back over to her by the arm, and as she finally joined her, giggling, Y/N stole a fleeting, amused glance back at Thomas before looking to Lafayette with a smile. "You need a partner?"

The man in question folded his arms, eyes shining and his brow raised. "Are you offering?"

"Only if you're willing to accept." She shrugged. "After all, I just got dumped by my old partner," —she gave Dolley a pointed look to which she responded with a wide, unapologetic grin— "so it looks like I'm back on the market."

Neither noticed Thomas eyeing them dubiously from the couch just off to one side.

"Alright zen, Y/N," Lafayette responded, a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. "Welcome to ze winning team. You 'ad better not tarnish my perfect record." He threw an arm around her shoulders, and obligingly, she went alongside him to the far side of the table. Thomas knocked back the rest of his drink in one heavy sip.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Y/N said, her gaze dragging over the elaborate (and precarious) setup on the low-set coffee table — she pitied the rug beneath it; it almost certainly didn't know what it had coming. When she looked up, Dolley and James had taken their positions across from them. However, while Dolley looked like she meant business, eyeing the scene before her, brow knit as she rolled a ping pong ball between her fingers, James looked slightly perturbed.

Y/N glanced back to Lafayette with a teasing look. "But you'd better be able to keep up."

"Mm, I make no promises, yet with zat attitude, you may 'ave just met your match." He looked her up and down appraisingly, and when she caught sight of the mischievous glint in his eyes as they stalled toward her hips, she swallowed hard.

"We'll see about that," she replied, and despite the confidence she tried to inject into her voice, the words came out meek under his heavy gaze. He grinned at the sudden timidity of her smile; when his arm came to rest at her waist, pulling her back around to look at the table before them as he promptly began talking strategy, heat rose in her cheeks. Her mouth was dry.

And Thomas was nowhere to be found.

_______________

The night didn't come to a close for hours, which was saying something considering how late it'd begun, and several (entirely successful) games of beer pong later, the crowd was just beginning to dwindle. James and Dolley seemed to be attached at the hip, something which had Y/N feeling more conflicted than she'd have liked to — she was glad to see them happy, certainly, but her own Dolley deficiency meant that, for the most part, she was on her own in navigating her novel state of limbo with Thomas, as confusing as it was exhilarating. She could only pretend to mind it, though.

She'd latched onto Lafayette at some point among their continued victories; she'd liked to have chalked it up to his friendly, outgoing nature, making her feel easily welcome, but she couldn't pretend that it wasn't in large part due to the tight tank top he wore and the circumference of his arms. And she made sure to tell him so, too, as the night went on and she sank deeper into the setup of what was sure to manifest an impressive hangover come morning. Lafayette's breezy laugh at her proclamation put her at ease. Neither took the interaction too seriously.

At the end of the day, her easy willingness to fall into the mellow atmosphere he dragged alongside him had less to do with him and more to do with her desperation to stop focusing on how Thomas had hardly said five words to her since Dolley had earlier been sure to tell him how utterly enamored Y/N was with him. That was also her motivation to throw back whatever liqueur came her way, and while those two impacts may not pay off long-term, for the time being, they only meant getting drunk with an unreasonably attractive Frenchman. Y/N sleeping with her professor may have been off-limits, but no one said anything about the touchy-feely exchange student with the blinding smile and the sharp tongue. She couldn't help but briefly wonder what else his tongue was good for.

As the party finally came to a close, and as people began to say their goodbyes, the remaining attendees were scattered around their apartment, far more sparse than they had been.

Y/N stumbled out of their bathroom bleary-eyed and with her phone's flashlight on. Dolley had long since withdrawn back into James's bedroom, and Y/N couldn't even complain — she was just relieved that she couldn't hear whatever they were up to from where she stood.

She kept a hand on the wall to her right as she unsteadily navigated the straight hallway, much more of a challenge than it should've been, all the while her thoughts oscillating between her internal turmoil over Thomas's sudden aloofness and how in the world she was supposed to get home five drinks closer to the end of the night than she'd begun. With her mind elsewhere, she didn't process her flashlight catching the silhouette of the lumbering figure who'd suddenly emerged from the doorway just before her until it was a second too late.

He noticed the moment he entered the hallway, however; he didn't have enough time to stop it short.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled forward, tripping over his shoe and grasping desperately at his clothing in her desperate bid not to end up on the floor with a carpet burn all the way down her chin and an ache in her chest.

"Woah, woah, woah." He turned to her frantically, the panic in his eyes fueling his actions to be just quick enough. It didn't stop her from falling — he was no miracle worker — but she fell instead into an unsurprisingly strong chest, large hands finding her waist. She dropped her phone somewhere in the havoc, and he winced as the flashlight shone directly up into his face; despite this, his expression eased when he saw the smile she wore upon catching sight of his face. "You alright, there?"

"Thomas, hey." Her eyelids drooped in her tired enthusiasm. "Where have you been all night? Missed you. We all missed you." The heavy pout she wore with the claim just made him chuckle, and she took in a deep breath, stifling a yawn, as she tried to pull herself up from her hands on his shoulders. "And when were you this tall?"

He laughed, helping her back up to a standing position, but back on her feet, she was still relying heavily on him for a crutch. "I've been around, sweetheart. Guess you just didn't notice me."

"Or you've been avoiding me," she accused as he helped her back toward the living room. Her staggering steps were far from steady, and her voice was reduced to a weary drawl as she stumbled over her own feet.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, though. "Not my fault you've been so focused on Lafayette all night."

"Not my fault he was the one being nice to me," she grumbled, but almost the moment the words left her mouth, she looked up at him with apology in her gaze. He didn't even have time to react. "Not that you haven't been nice. I didn't mean that you're not nice. You're so nice, too. You're too nice. I don't—"

"Relax," he cut her off, his voice soft and eyes glinting with amusement. "No offense taken."

"This is what I mean by too nice," she said, words slurred. She jabbed a finger into his shoulder even as they walked. "Too forgiving. Learn to be meaner."

"So you'd rather I did take offense."

"That's not what I said," she protested with a huff, the sentence sounding as childish as her intentions felt. She sniffled. "Stop twisting my words. I was so happy to see you before; can we go back to that? Meanie."

He quirked a brow. "I'm mean again, now?"

She scowled. "No. I wish you were mean, 'cause then I wouldn't just have to blame myself for being bitter, and it's not fair, either, and I'm just moping 'cause you haven't been around all night. When I walked in and saw you, I thought my night might be okay, asshole. Didn't know I'd hardly see you."

"You've seen plenty of me," he countered, and she grinned.

"Oh, yeah? In more ways than one, right?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and his deadpanned stare only made her burst into a fit of giggles. He couldn't help his small smile. Despite her protests of his not having been around all night, this was the most attention she'd paid him since being introduced to Lafayette, and he couldn't say he minded the paradigm shift.

"Somethin' like that. How much have you had to drink?" he asked, and her shrug with her shoulder pressed into his side was halfhearted.

"Lost count. I'm gonna regret it in the morning, but not so much I'm gonna spend four hours throwing up." She grinned, trying to nudge him, but her elbow just brushed against the front of his shirt in a feat of hand-eye coordination. "So I obviously did perfect."

"'Obviously'," he echoed, looking down at her dubiously. Her footsteps stalled as she reached down to pick up her phone, struggling to find the button to turn the flashlight off. She struggled to stifle a yawn as she reached around to put it in her back pocket.

"Too bad you didn't have tequila. Then I might've gotten less conscious. If you weren't so fucking nice, I might be pissed," she said matter-of-factly. He just hummed passively. "Where's Lafayette?"

"How would I know? You're the one who's been hangin' onto him all night." There was a certain gruffness in his voice that hadn't been there before, but Y/N was too addled to pick up on it. She frowned, slumping against his chest. "You shouldn't be tryin' to go home with him after this many drinks, anyway."

"I wasn't trying to go home with him," she pouted, but when her steps stuttered, when she struggled not to trip over her own feet, Thomas wrapped an arm tighter around her waist, and she didn't stop him. "I was just gonna ask him for a ride home, 'cause who knows what Dolley's up to with James by now. You don't have to be so protective, y'know. I'm an adult."

"Hey, I know," he said softly, and although she wouldn't have readily admitted it, his gentle tone went far to placate her. "'M sorry."

"You should be," she huffed. "Saying I'm just here to fuck your friends. Can't believe it's what you think of me."

"It's not; that's not what I was sayin'," he defended, but when he looked down at her with a frown, she refused to meet his eyes, gaze fixed firmly on her own feet. "C'mon, sweetheart. You can't really think that."

"You promise?" He couldn't help his pang of guilt when she looked up at him with a wide-eyed, trusting stare, on the brink of tears. He offered her a soft smile, squeezing her side lightly.

"Promise," he confirmed. "Now let's get you out of here; you're wasted. I'll call a cab."

She groaned. "No, don't. I don't wanna get in a car alone with a stranger when I'm this smashed. That's not safe."

Thomas chuckled lightly at her words, raising a surprised eyebrow. "How's your judgment better when you've had a little too much to drink?"

"Shut up," she grumbled, and though she tried to shove him by the shoulder, he wasn't all too dissuaded. "Are Maria and Angelica still here? Think they'd wanna carpool? They seem nice. I could probably convince them."

"I'm sure you could, but they're both long gone."

"So who's still here?" she whined, "I'm too tired to walk home. I don't wanna."

"Y'know, I do have a car," he pointed out. She scowled.

"Yeah, congrats."

"And I can drive you," he added, looking down at her expectantly. She shifted in his grasp, letting out a noise of reluctance.

"No, Thomas, you can't," she said, her voice watery. "You're really, really sweet for offering, and I really appreciate it, but no, I can't ask you to do that when you aren't already leaving anyway. But that's thoughtful. Thank you."

"Seriously? I'm offerin'." Worry was clear in his eyes as she dragged herself forward, clinging to his shoulders. "You don't have too many options, now."

"No, no, it's fine." Her words were slow, the syllables dragging on as she buried herself further in his embrace. "I'm gonna find someone. What about your friend Monroe? Isn't he gonna have to drive himself outta here?"

"'S there somethin' wrong?" She could hear his frown in his voice. "Or d'you just really not want me to drive you that badly?"

"Everything's okay, I'm fine." She let out a short huff as he slowed to a halt, still propping her up. "I do want you to drive me, but I also don't wanna ask you to drive me after you've been avoiding me all night, but I wanna hang out with you. And I know the feeling isn't mutual, and I don't want you to feel like you've gotta drive me. 'M sorry."

"Hey, what're you sorry for?" He nudged her softly. "I haven't been avoidin' you. I dunno what makes you think so."

"It's okay; don't worry. I get it," she assured him, and her smile looked slightly dazed as she rested a hand on his chest. "It's weird that your roommate invited your TA who you fucked to the house party you threw. I know you're just trying to respect my boundaries. And you're such a nice person for it. Honestly. Seriously."

"I'm bein' serious, Y/N," he defended, despite her sappy tone. "'M not avoidin' you."

"You don't gotta defend yourself! It's okay." She gave him an understanding smile, but as her bottom lip pushed out, it was closer to a pout. "I'm lucky you're so careful and sweet about everything that's happened. With us sleeping together, and all."

"I got the implication," he said, a trace of a laugh in his voice.

"Okay, well, I wasn't sure," she defended. He chuckled. "I'm just saying, I'm lucky it was you. It coulda been someone who wanted to exploit this weird dynamic. I'm not sure if you've realized, but you've got a lotta power here."

He furrowed his brow. "I'd never do somethin' like that."

"I know," she agreed softly, and the look in her watering eyes was doting.

She inhaled shakily when she broke his gaze, trying to continue to his living room, but again, when she proved to be a little less steady than she'd thought, her center of balance not quite where she expected, she let out a surprised squeak.

"Woah, there," Thomas laughed, catching her before she could fall any further. She hung desperately onto his arms. "Alright, let's go. Let me drive you home."

She hummed reluctantly. "This is exploitation. You know I'm too tired to be pretending I don't want you to since it'd be so much more trouble for you, and I know you're too nice to insist after I tell you not to. How am I supposed to say no?"

"You ever consider that you aren't?"

Her huff was halfhearted, and she still wore a wide smile. "Alright, alright. You win. Bully."

He grinned. "Mmh, I'm really the worst."

___________________________

Getting her out of his apartment and down the stairwell to the garage was quite a process, but twenty minutes later, they were pulling out in his Bentley because of course he couldn't just drive a Subaru like the rest of us. They drove the first few minutes in a warm silence, Y/N still mildly addled with fatigue and vodka.

Thomas stole a glance at her to see her leaning her head back against the chair, her eyes shut, and her soft smile elicited his own. "You have an okay time tonight?"

She hummed, not opening her eyes. "Yeah. I really, really liked your friends. They were all so sweet. It was so nice of Lafayette looking out for me all night. He's nice."

She didn't see Thomas's lips quirk down. "Yeah. Lafayette's really somethin'."

She cracked a eye open to look at him; the tension was clear enough in his voice that even she couldn't miss it. "You okay?"

"Fine."

She frowned. "I know I didn't see you much tonight, but... you know I wasn't actually mad when you took Lafayette's weed, right?"

The question caught him off guard, less for the question itself than for what she was reading into the sudden hostility in his demeanor. "Seriously?"

"It was no big deal," she said softly, tapping her fingers on his car's central console. He laughed. "I know how good your intentions were. You're just... such a caring person." Her huff was quiet, and she put on a small pout. "You're too sweet sometimes, and I dunno what to do with it. Sorry if I made you feel like you weren't. You're such a good person, Thomas. I'm sorry."

Her voice broke with her final sentence, and she took a deep breath, sniffling and pursing her lips, and Thomas looked over, a concerned eyebrow raised. "Are you... tearin' up?" She didn't respond, only nodded, trying to hold down the tears building in her throat, and his gaze melted. "Aw, sweetheart. Hey, relax. It's ok."

His hand covered hers where it sat on the central console, squeezing it lightly, and she looked over at him with a sentimental smile. "'M not—" She inhaled shakily. "I'm not sad. I just really appreciate you. You're so nice. You're always worrying about making sure I'm safe. If you weren't around, I probably would've been abducted, like, probably twice by now."

"I'm not sure tryin' to make sure no one kills you is the height of altruism."

"Yes, it is," she insisted, threading her fingers into his. She didn't see his small smile. "You've called me definitely at least four Ubers by now, and this is the second time you've driven me home. And this gas isn't cheap."

He shook his head, amusement shining in his gaze. "Well I'm not gonna let you pay for your own Ubers. I know how tight money is when you're an undergrad."

She groaned. "Stop being so thoughtful. It's insufferable. You're just reminding me how obnoxious everyone else is 'cause you're always so fucking kind."

He stole another glance in her direction, noting how tired her smile looked, but her gaze was soft despite her facade of exasperation. "I dunno about that. You did think I was avoidin' you all night."

"Yeah, but you didn't wanna make things weird because of our weird history, and I get it! It's probably right. But..." She turned her head, still resting against the back of her seat, to watch him. "Thanks for not making it weird or just acting like I'm some kid who you don't wanna be around. I really liked meeting your friends. Thanks for introducing me." Her thumb brushed across the back of his hand, and her thoughtful gaze fell to where their fingers were interlinked. "I was dreading tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" He gave her a concerned look, and the corners of her lips twitched up. Her warm gaze was a comfort.

"Mhm. I didn't wanna come and I wouldn't if Dolley wasn't so into James, but she really likes him so much," Y/N said, her lazy words running together. "I even put on my good jeans for her 'cause she was worried about being overdressed. Love her so much. But I thought this night was gonna be such a big sacrifice and, like, hours of misery."

"I'm glad it wasn't," Thomas said, and her smile broadened as she met his soft eyes.

"Yeah. Me too. Thanks for treating me like we're friends."

"Aren't we friends?" He raised a hesitant eyebrow at that, at the quiet notice he took of the bittersweet trace in her voice. Her eyes widened.

"I... are we?" She blinked hard, turning toward her door as he took a left turn, as she was afraid her eyes were again beginning to water. "I didn't think you thought we were. I didn't think you wanted to be friends, since you're always keeping me at arm's length, I guess."

"I'm drivin' you home from my apartment at one in the morning," he said matter-of-factly. "I dunno if there's still any degree of removal, there."

"You didn't want me at your apartment in the first place, and you don't have to defend yourself." Her gaze caught on a passing streetlight. "I just didn't think you wanted to be friends."

"I'd like to think we're friends," he said quietly, and she squeezed his hand lightly. He didn't comment on how absurd it was that she thought this was how he treated all of his acquaintances.

"Me too." She sniffed again, reaching up to rub at the corner of her left eye.

"And I'm sorry if I've been holdin' you at arm's length," he added. "I'm just tryin' to keep the fact that we slept together the first night we met from havin' some kinda outsized importance. Don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"You're so respectful. Fuck. Thanks, Thomas," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut to hold any tears at bay. "Thanks for everything."

He smiled. "'S been my pleasure."

___________________________

When they arrived at her building, he offered to walk her up to her apartment, and she didn't put up even a moment of resistance. She knew just as well as he did that trying to make it all the way up to her floor alone would be a losing battle.

They'd been waiting for the elevator for about a minute when she began monologuing an overly-emotional apology about when she went to his office to yell at him, which turned into one about how she wasn't even halfway through the papers he needed to be graded by Monday, which turned into one about how she was exploiting him as a Google Translate substitute for her French class. (She swore she wasn't using him as a means to an end.)

Her eyes were teary when they reached her floor, and he led her down the hall with an arm around her waist as she continued to gripe about how unreasonably kind he was.

"But I'm serious, Thomas, if you weren't so fucking nice all the time, you wouldn't be so easy to exploit, and I wouldn't feel so guilty," she whined, "I can't believe it sometimes."

"Sorry?" he said hesitantly, fighting back a smile at her indignance. She scoffed.

"Why're you apologizing?" she asked, plastering on a pout. "I'm calling you nice, asshole."

He had to laugh, then. "Sure you are, sweetheart."

"I am!" she huffed, folding her arms and looking up at him with wide, watering eyes. "I swear."

"Alright, alright, I believe you," he assured her, and as she sighed, he could feel her shoulders relax against him. He looked back up, then, gaze scanning the walls of the apartment building. "Now, remind me which one of these rooms is yours?"

"566." She sniffled, still watching him as he walked her down the hall.

"Okay. Only a little further."

"Thanks for walking me up, Thomas," Y/N said, the ghost of a yawn stifled in her voice. She reached up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "You're so sweet."

"Y'know, I think you might've mentioned," he replied, tone playful, and she groaned, dropping her head against his side.

"Shut up," she grumbled. "I'm being serious. Don't appreciate your sarcasm."

"I'm only playin', alright?" He squeezed her side as he tugged her along, and she wore a soft, reluctant smile. "Now, are you gonna be okay tonight? There anything you need before I go? Are you gonna need anything for your hangover? I can pick up some ibuprofen."

"No, no, that's okay," she said, her eyes drifting shut. She was too sleepy to do anything but trust that he wasn't about to lead her astray. "Just wanna sleep. That's all."

"Okay." She nearly tripped when his footsteps stopped rather abruptly, her grip tightening around his arm to hold herself up. "Looks like we're here."

"Shit. Right. Gimme a minute to get the door." She withdrew her apartment key from her purse with little trouble, but unlocking the door was a different story. She put a hand out against the wall as she stepped out of Thomas's embrace, fumbling with the lock above the doorknob, and she'd scratched three different parts of the wood finish when Thomas's hand ghosted down her forearm.

"Wanna let me help you with that?"

She smiled when she turned to see him watching her with a brow raised. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

She passed off the key, and his other hand fell to the small of her back as he gently pulled her aside. "There you go." He turned the knob about a minute later, handing her back the key, his gaze soft. "G'night, sweetheart."

Though she dropped her key into her purse without protesting, before she went in, she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. "Night. I'll see you," she murmured, but when she pulled away, she still hung off of his shoulders, wearing a demure smile. "Unless you wanna come in?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Y/N, you’d better not be serious." When no sign surfaced that she may have been joking, he sighed, but his hands didn't leave where they'd dropped to on her waist. "You know I can't. Even if I weren't your professor, you're well past drunk. Go to bed."

"Well, I won't tell," she sang, blinking innocently. "Who's it hurting?"

"You're not lucid right now, sweetheart. You don't know what you're saying."

"Uh-uh. I know exactly what I'm saying." She dragged a finger down his chest, biting her lip. "You know it'd be fun. We had a nice night last time."

"Y/N," he sighed, and with how hopeful she sounded, guilt was building in his chest. She frowned.

"Fine. I'll just call Lafayette," she scowled, and vindication flashed in her eyes at the way Thomas tensed at the words. "I'm sure he'd be down for a good time."

"Stop. Don't talk to me like this," he warned, voice hard, and she raised her eyebrows.

"What's the problem, professor? I thought you liked Lafayette. Aren't you two friends?" she asked, drawing out the syllables of her words. She wore a small, egoistic smile. "Maybe it isn't too late for me to give him a call."

"No. Don’t you dare." He raised his eyebrows at her and nodded toward the interior of her apartment. “Get some sleep.”

"I dunno about that," she drawled, reaching up to brush her hand across his stubble. He grabbed her wrist before she could, eyes ablaze. "I think I might go get some sleep with someone else. Thanks for the ride, though."

"Y/N," he scowled, taking a step forward, backing her through her doorway. Her eyes flashed with vindication. "Stop talking about fucking Lafayette. You know what a bad idea this is."

"Aw, why? Is someone getting a little jealous?" she mocked him, pulling him toward her. He gritted his teeth. "It was obvious earlier; you weren't fooling anyone. Did you think I wasn't gonna notice?"

“Let's not do this. This isn’t a game you wanna play." His stare was conflicted as she grinned, flipping on her living room light and taking a step further back into her apartment. He took a reluctant step forward with her with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. "I'm not jealous."

"Then what's your problem with me calling up Lafayette? You don't own me," she said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“That’s about enough,” he said, his voice low as he fixed her with a warning look. She shrugged.

"I can make my own decisions, Thomas. I can do whatever I want."

"Not right now, you can't.” His grip tightened on her waist, and the look in his eyes was sharp, frustrated. She grinned, pressing up against him.

"Then what are you gonna do about it, hm?" she teased, weaving a hand into his hair. He sucked in a deep breath, self-control waning. Her gaze shone with satisfaction. "How do you plan to stop me?"

A moment passed in anticipatory silence, tension heavy in the charged atmosphere, and Y/N firmly believed she'd won. When he pulled her closer, her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned in toward him; there was a skip, but she only wrapped her arms more tightly around the back of his neck, tilted her face up toward his. She didn't quite get what she wanted.

His lips brushed against the crown of her forehead, and she furrowed her brow, re-opening her eyes. Despite her small frown, he reached up, taking her face in one hand, and brushed a hair out of her face as he eyed her with a gentle gaze. He took a small step back, wearing a remorseful, weak smile. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Get some rest for me, now."

Before she could protest, try to pull him back in, he was out the door, swinging it shut behind him.

She was too stunned to move for another minute.

That night, the apartment felt empty.