#afternoon college class got cancelled so I headed home right after the first one and ended up doing some art

[khufiya-khaufnak-antariksh]

I was thinking, "yes I'll make a paypal today" but then i shrivelled away from it because it was one adult task too many for this week

[something-bout-the-weather]

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend / Matty Healy x Reader

Thank you to the anon that gave me the idea for this one <3 It is the friends-to-lovers story of my dreams the longest thing I've written so please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Present Day (Aged 22)

You can’t believe how quickly the past few years have flown by. Especially, now that you somehow find yourself unpacking boxes in your new home, the home you are sharing with your best friend, Matty.  

You and Matty had only recently taken the plunge to rent a flat together in Manchester. You'd just got a job here after finishing uni and Matty's band had just finished their latest tour around the UK and he was ready to spend some time relaxing and starting work on their next album. You'd been best friends for 6 years now and it had just made sense to the pair of you to save on rent and get a place together. 

Matty was unpacking his room and you yours. Music was streaming through the house and you found yourself reminiscing on the day you and Matty met at college all those years ago. 

6 Years Ago (Aged 16)

It was your first day back at college after summer and you didn’t want to be there. You’d come prepared though, with your noise-cancelling headphones and the latest album you’d been listening to, on repeat, as you walked to the first class of the day, which was actually one of your favourite subjects, music.

Arriving into the classroom you noticed a few new people coming through the door. One, in particular, caught your eye. You’d seen him and his unruly head of curly hair in the college halls, always with a guitar case on his back, but had never spoken to him before. You’d always thought he looked cool but had been too shy to introduce yourself, maybe now was your chance.

The class had barely sat in their seats when the teacher announced a group project and explained that the pairs had already been chosen. As luck would have it, your teacher had picked the curly-haired guy as your partner, so you had no choice but to introduce yourself.

 “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you announce as he made his way over to sit in the chair next to you.

“Matty,” he replies, “I think I’ve seen you in the halls but you always seem completely engrossed in whatever you’re listening to in your massive headphones,” pointing at the headphones currently hanging around your neck.

“Yeah, they are the only things that help me get through a day in this hellhole,” you joke.

“What are you listening to at the minute then?” he asked. This turned into a huge discussion about what music you listened to and how the pair of you had extremely similar music tastes.

Both of you, it turns out, had a lot more in common besides the music you listened to. You also shared some favourite TV shows and movies and even what you liked to do when you weren’t working through the endless amounts of college work. It was clear instantly that you were both going to get along. 

The class seemed to pass quicker than normal and it wasn’t long before you found yourself heading out of the door towards your next class. 

“Hey Y/N, wait up!” Matty shouted across the hallway making you turn around to find him in the crowd of students.

“Yes?” you reply, unsure of what he is about to say to you.

“What are you doing at lunch today?” he enquires.

“Nothing other than roaming these halls,” you respond, gesturing to the bustling halls around you.

“Fancy coming to the record shop in town with me and grabbing some food?” he asks with a pleading look in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan. Meet back here at half 12?” you suggest to which he just nods, before turning and heading in the opposite direction down the hall. 

Present Day (Aged 22)

You remember that day the pair of you had spent the remainder of the afternoon in the record store, flicking through the vinyls, getting to know one another and ditching your classes. You knew immediately you’d found a best friend in Matty and the pair of you had been inseparable since. 

You hoped you'd made the right decision by renting a place with Matty as you found yourself in a bit of a tricky situation. Over the years, you'd slowly begun developing feelings for Matty. You couldn't think of anyone better to share a place with but it was a real worry for you that it would somehow ruin years of friendship if your true feelings for Matty ever slipped out. 

You were completely unaware of the fact that Matty also had feelings for you too. His started to develop a lot earlier than yours though. They started to grow back when you gave him a Valentine’s Day card 4 years ago.

4 Years Ago (Aged 18)

The last two years had passed by in a blur. You'd made the decision to go to university and so far you were enjoying it. Matty on the other hand had joined a band and they were doing everything they could to have their music heard. He'd been so busy lately playing gigs in all sorts of venues and travelling around the country. Mix that with you being overloaded with uni work, and the pair of you hadn't seen one another for a couple of weeks. 

So, the pair of you had planned on going to watch the latest Quentin Tarantino movie, on opening night, which just so happened to be Valentine’s Day.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” you shout at your best friend as he makes his way over to where you are waiting for him outside of the cinema. 

“Y/N don’t say that so loudly, how many people do you want to make think we are a couple?” he asks worriedly. 

“People can think what they want Matty, we are just two best friends here to see a movie and catch up,” you reply nonchalantly.

After stopping at the counter to get some popcorn, sweet and salty at Matty’s request, you head for your seats.

“Before this movie starts, Healy, I have something for you,” you say as you dig into your backpack. 

Little does Matty know you’ve got him a Valentine’s Day card and some chocolates. Neither of you has a Valentine’s this year so you thought it would be quite nice to get your best friend something to put a smile on his face and let him know you appreciate him. 

Holding out the card and a box of his favourite chocolates you excitedly say “Happy Valentine’s Day Matty!”

Matty takes them from you in complete shock, before saying with a look of sheer terror on his face, “Y/N! I haven’t got you anything.”

“Don’t worry my dear,” you reply, “I’m just being silly and wanted to make you smile. Please open the card right now!”

Matty carefully opens the card with two eggs cuddled up on the front and the words ‘Thank you for being an eggcellent friend. Happy Valentine’s Day!’ surrounding them. You watch him contentedly as he reads out loud what is written inside, “To Matty, thank you for being my best friend. I will always be there for you, no matter what! Love you lots, Y/N!”

You watch as the smile grows on Matty’s face before pulling you into a hug and whispering softly “Thank you so much Y/N, you know I’m always here for you too.” He slowly pulls away before looking into your eyes and pleading “Can we make it a tradition to send each other a Valentine’s Day card each year? I’ll even give you one!”

“Of course!” you reply as Matty’s grin widens and he gently places a kiss on your cheek. You can't hide the look of surprise on your face and, it seems neither can Matty as it seems to be a shock, even to him.

Life clearly wants the pair of you to sit in your thoughts about this though as if on cue, the lights in the cinema dim and the film begins. So, both of you turn back to the screen with so many thoughts whirring around in your heads. 

Present Day (Aged 22)

Even looking back on this memory you are still completely oblivious of the fact that from that day forward Matty had been slowly falling for you.

That day was also the start of one of many friendship traditions. Every year since then you'd sent Valentine's Day cards to each other, even if you couldn't see each other on the day. Always with an excellent pun on the front and some sentimental wording inside. One day you were sure it would have to stop when you got your own partners, but for now, it was a tradition you didn't want to break.

You looked back at the memory fondly and thought of all the other random traditions the pair of you held. Your favourite tradition was one which had begun two years ago on Christmas Eve. That was also the year that you started to develop feelings for Matty. 

2 Years Ago (Aged 20)

You always spent Christmas at home no matter what. So that's why you find yourself waiting outside your hometown's freezing cold train station waiting for Matty to pick you up. He'd just finished the first leg of touring with his band, The 1975, to promote their first album.

You'd not seen him for two months now and you couldn't wait to catch up and start what you hoped would be a new tradition. The plan was to go to your parent's house straight from the station. They were celebrating Christmas with friends and wouldn't be home until late on Christmas Eve. So, your house was the perfect spot for the rest of your plan. Tonight, you were going to order a takeaway and watch a Christmas movie. Tomorrow, you were going to wake up early, exchange gifts and just enjoy the festivities. 

Just before your toes became a block of ice, a car, blaring music through its speakers, pulled into the car park. Of course, Matty had to make an entrance. 

He'd barely stopped the car before he was jumping out of it as if it had burst into flames. He ran around the front of the car with his arms wide before picking you up, spinning you around and enveloping you in the tightest hug possible as he shouted "Y/N!" 

You were certain he could feel your heart beating out of your chest. You were sure that you'd avoided the cliché of crushing on your best friend but over the past few months, a feeling for Matty had started to build which you hadn't been prepared for.

Something about seeing him live out his dream, perform to a crowd and still make sure that his best friend was happy and doing well at the end of the day, had you going weak at your knees. Let's hope you could hide it and it wouldn't ruin a friendship that you truly adored.

"Hi Matty," you say back as he gently places you down on the solid ground again. 

"How is my best friend?" He asks. 

"About to freeze to death if we don't get to a warm house soon," you joke. 

"Well, your carriage awaits m'lady," he says opening the passenger side door for you to get in. 

Hours later you were both full of takeaway pizza, cuddled up on the couch watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. You could feel yourself dozing off but didn't want to spend all your time with Matty asleep but knew sleep was needed.

"Matty?" You ask sleepily.

"Yes love," he replies.

"Can we turn this off and head to bed? I'm shattered" You say barely managing to keep your eyes open. 

"Of course dear," he responds before turning off the TV and lifting you into his arms carrying you towards your bedroom. 

He places you gently on your bed before softly kissing you on your forehead and whispering "Night Y/N sleep tight, I can't wait to swap gifts in the morning. I've missed you so much," before heading back to his usual spot on the couch, in the lounge, and heading to sleep himself. 

What Matty isn't aware of, is the fact you'd heard everything he said as he put you to bed last night and it was not helping your growing feelings for him, at all. 

That didn't stop you from running into the lounge at 8 am screaming "Merry Christmas!"

Matty jumped out of bed, fists at the ready, to fight whoever had broken into your parent's house. 

"It's me you idiot," you manage to get out between giggles, "I was only making sure you knew it was Christmas." 

Somehow you find yourself all of a sudden, being thrown over Matty's shoulder, and put down on the couch before being ambushed with tickles. The pair of you can't stop laughing and honestly, you couldn't think of a better start to your Christmas, with Matty. 

"Presents time!" Matty cries out as he guides you both to sit by the beautifully decorated tree. 

You exchange a whole heap of gifts including books, records and matching sweaters for one another. 

Just when you think the gift exchange is over Matty pulls a tiny box from under the tree and gestures at you to open it. 

Inside it is a stunning necklace with his band's box logo hanging from it.

"Take a closer look Y/N, I'm not just using this gift for self-promo," Matty insists. 

You turn the necklace over in your hands to see that engraved on one side of the box is 'Matty + Y/N x'. Tears start to form in your eyes. 

"Matty, this is beautiful thank you so much," you say through tears. 

"I got it so that you have a little bit of me with you every day even when I'm away on tour," he explained. 

"I love it!" You exclaim before pulling Matty into a long hug. You couldn't ask for a better Christmas. 

Present Day (Aged 22)

Toying with the box necklace that has been on your neck ever since that day you can't help but smile. You can't believe how lucky you were to have Matty as a best friend and now as a housemate. You just hope your growing feelings aren't going to get in the way of it all. 

Suddenly, there is an almighty crash right outside your bedroom door and you immediately get up to see what it is that Matty has likely broken. Instead, you find him standing in your hallway looking sheepish.

“What’s up Healy?” you ask concerned.

“Y/N I don’t think I can’t do this,” he admits.

“I’m sorry Matty, you’ll have to be a bit more specific. You can’t do what?” 

“This,” he gestures around himself, seemingly at the towers of boxes in the hallway.

“Jesus Matty, we’ve only just got here. Give it a couple of days and all these boxes will be gone,” you reply, sounding exhausted.

“No, not that,” he stresses before blurting out, “I can’t live with you and pretend I don’t have feelings for you. I’ve been crushing on you ever since you got me that Valentine’s Day card years ago. And, to be honest, I thought you were beautiful even before then.”

You stand there in shock, unsure of what to say.

“I’ve fallen for you, hard, over the past few years. I love how much you enjoy our silly sentimental traditions, I love your company even when it's just sitting together in silence. I love your laugh, your beautiful eyes and the smile you do after eating a good slice of pizza. Look, what I’m trying to say is I love you. I can’t hide my feelings anymore and I get it if you want me to leave. But, I just had to let you know before I drove myself insane.” He confesses before looking down at his feet, clearly embarrassed.

“Matty,” you say as you take his face in your hands and look directly into his gorgeous brown eyes, “I love you too, have done for years” you confess. And, with that, you do the one thing that you’ve wanted to do for years, kiss your best friend.

Your breathing is heavy as your lips press together. It was like you’d been preparing for this your whole life as you feel yourself relax into Matty’s warmth. You can feel the thud of Matty’s heart against your chest as he threads his fingers through your hair. You both know this could easily go further, without question, but there is so much that needs to be said first.

As you slowly pull away from each other, you hear Matty mutter, “Holy shit!”

You are sure your cheeks have gone bright red but you don’t mind at all as you confess to Matty, “Well, I don’t think we can exactly pretend we don’t have feelings for each other anymore.”

“According to all our friends, I was quite poor at hiding them anyway Y/N. I mean how didn't you realise I wrote Fallingforyou about you!"

You stand there shocked at the declaration Matty has just made. 

"But it seems you were completely oblivious to that and many other things,” he jokes.

“Says you,” you manage to get out between laughs, “You were just as oblivious as me!”

You both stand there for a few seconds in contented silence, holding one another, before Matty asks “So, where do we go from here then?”

“I mean we’ve seemingly missed a few crucial steps and already have a place together so, I guess we continue unpacking, take things at our own pace and see where this goes. We already know each other pretty well and we’ve got years ahead of us, so let's just take this as it comes," you suggest. 

"That sounds perfect to me! I love you Y/N” Matty professes.

“I love you too and I'm so glad I can finally say that out loud” you declare before your lips hurry to find his again.

Looking back on it now, you can’t believe how oblivious you had both been to the fact that you had been slowly falling for each other over the years. Who knows where this would go from here? But, one thing about it is certain, you cannot wait to find out.

[honeypiehotchner]

Unconventional (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part six

Chapter two of two being posted today! 

Warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, drunk texts/call, mentions of vomiting, mentions/hints at past Hotchniss

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist || Hotch Masterlist

“You were just sick yesterday! What do you mean you want to go out tonight?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re celebrating. Get dressed,” Megan fires back, wrapping another strand of her hair around the curling iron. “Derek is bringing Penelope so you have to come.”

Oh, she’s right. You need to meet Penelope. “Fine, you got me. What should I wear?”

“Not jeans,” Megan chuckles. “Something sexy.”

“Megan!”

“You can wear one of my dresses if you want.”

“You’re insane,” you scoff, shrugging off your jacket. “I’m wearing jeans and a sweater. Don’t say a damn word.”

You can practically feel her eye roll all the way from the bathroom. “Fine. But at least wear some heels!”

“I am!” You yell back, laughing. “And makeup. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” she sings.

You roll your eyes this time. This is not what you expected to come home to.

You didn’t get any writing done in the library, but you did clear your head, and you plan to tell Aaron tomorrow that you’re fully in. Officially.

You would tell him now, but he’d only tell you to keep thinking, so you’re saving him the energy of telling you that. And you need to leave him alone for the rest of the day. He canceled a meeting to be with you, and no doubt had to move other things around to wait for you to get out of class, and drive you to get coffee before dropping you back off at the library.

Not to mention, he had a car arranged to bring you back to the apartment. Thank God Megan was in the bathroom getting ready, so all you had to say was that you walked home, instead of explaining everything else.

You’ll tell her eventually. After tomorrow, after it’s official that you and Aaron are doing this. And after you find the words to tell her without her freaking out on you.

Back to the task at hand, you change into some black jeans and a tri-colored sweater. It’s not sexy by any means, but being sexy isn’t your goal. You’d rather not get hit on tonight.

You grab your heeled black boots from the closet and put them by your bed for when you’re done with your makeup. You touch it up a little and add a red lip, as usual. You fix your hair so it isn’t a complete wreck, and you’re good to go.

Once your feet are in your boots and your small purse is hanging off your shoulder, you walk out to the living room, knowing Megan won’t be ready for another half hour at least.

She surprises you this time, though. She’s ready just a few moments after you sit down on the couch.

“Well, hello,” you say. “You look hot.”

“Thank you,” she grins, spinning in a circle. “Are you ready? We’re gonna grab food first.”

“Good idea.”

“We learned our lesson.”

“One too many times,” you chuckle.

+++

Derek Morgan is in love with Penelope Garcia.

It’s not hard to see at all. He’s sat next to her at dinner, and has his arm around her 75% of the time. The other 25% of the time, he’s lightly tapping her nose, holding onto her hand, or nudging her arm. He’s got it bad.

And he’s the only one who doesn’t know it.

You don’t mention it, and neither does anyone else. But you and Megan share knowing looks more than twenty times throughout dinner.

After dinner, the four of you head to the bar, which is conveniently right next to the restaurant. It’s where all the college kids get drinks, so it’s packed. Even though it’s the middle of the damn week.

You’re grateful you have afternoon classes. You have no idea how anyone drinks until the early morning and then goes to morning classes. No way.

You’ve only had one drink, so you’re not even buzzed. Eating dinner first was a good idea.

Derek’s arm is around Penelope’s waist 90% of the time now, and they’re standing so close you almost want to joke, “Leave room for the Holy Spirit at least.”

Megan orders a round of shots for the four of you. Straight tequila, like a lunatic, but you throw it back anyway.

“To graduating!” Megan yells, immediately grabbing her fruity drink (you forgot the name, but it tastes like fruit punch) to chase the tequila.

“We haven’t graduated yet,” you yell back, trying to project your voice because of the loud music and conversations in here.

“Whatever!” She laughs. Any normal person would think she’s drunk off her ass, but she’s actually the most sober of the group -- next to you. When she’s out, she lets go. Completely. “Another round?”

“On me,” Derek waves down the bartender.

One more round turned into two more, then a third.

After your fourth or fifth (or sixth?) shot of tequila, and almost all of your regular drink because you need a chaser with tequila, you’re feeling it. A lot.

“Shit,” you laugh, holding onto the bar. “I need to pee.”

“Go pee!” Megan yells back, not drunk yet, but getting there.

“Fine!” You groan, knowing the line will be hell.

The room stops spinning long enough for you to make it to the line for the bathroom. Why do drunk girls always take forever to pee?

You push the thought out of your mind and start thinking about something else. Or rather, someone else.

Aaron. You’re back to thinking about Aaron Hotchner.

You can’t help it. When he looks like that and is as nice as he is. When he opens doors for you and cares so much about you. When he looks like he could devour you in the sweetest way possible and you know you’d let him -- sober you would even let him.

You should tell him. You gotta tell him you want him.

Right now.

So, you pull out your phone, seeming so sure of yourself, and you start texting.

Aaronnnn. Aaron. I need to tell you something

I want to be with you!!! I’m saying yes!!! N don’t tell me to think abt it because I HAVE!!! I say yes I wanna do this I wanna

You hit send prematurely, but you don’t care. You go right back to texting, only this time you’re interrupted by Aaron calling you.

“Hi you,” you giggle, stopping it abruptly when he replies.

“Hi yourself.”

Somehow hearing his voice sobered you right up. Or mostly. Let’s go with mostly.

“How drunk are you?” He asks. “And where are you?”

“I’m fine, I just need to pee,” you groan, leaning forward to see if the line is moving any, but leaning forward causes the room to start spinning again. “Shit. Don’t do that, fuck, okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just dizzy, silly,” you say, leaning back into the wall. “Listen-- We’re doin’ this, okay? I wanna do this.”

You hear him sigh. “Where are you?”

“I’m with...with Megan and Derek anddd Penelope,” you count on your fingers as you list their names off. “We’re good, we’re celebrating.”

“Where at?”

“Just some bar,” you shrug. “Meg’s really happy with the article she gets to write about you. She thinks it’ll be her best one yet, isn’t that awesome?”

“Yes, it is.”

You frown. “You didn’t sound awesome.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not telling you,” you sing. “Because we’re celebrating and you’ll just make me leave.”

“You’re drunk, Y/N, I think you’ve celebrated enough.”

“I’m fine! Ooh, the line is moving up, gotta go, mwah!” You hang up the phone as he’s halfway through saying your name.

+++

After finally peeing, you find (more like stumble around to) Megan back at the bar. Penelope and Derek are out dancing somewhere, but Penelope is easy to spot with her bright clothes.

Megan has her hand covering your drink and you smile. “Thank you.”

“Duh,” she returns the smile, sliding your drink to you.

You take a sip of it and immediately regret the decision. It’s too sweet now. You feel like puking.

But you are not puking at the bar. That’s disgusting.

You do push the drink away, though. You’ve had enough. You had enough probably an hour ago, but you’re still not the best with your limits yet. Especially since the room is still spinning.

“Let’s go dance,” Megan yells out of nowhere.

You scrunch up your nose. “No thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Megan grins, diving headfirst into the dance floor.

You watch her go and you laugh when she instantly finds someone to dance with. It’s never hard for her to find a dance partner.

After about two minutes of watching the strobe lights and listening to the bass rattle your eardrums, you decide to step outside for some air. Grabbing your jacket, you stumble as best you can over to the door, cursing under your breath the whole way. You’re a lot dizzier than normal, and that’s when you realize how many hours have gone by.

The cold night air hits your face and instantly knocks the nausea out of your system, but the dizziness is still present. It doesn’t help that cars are passing by, and when you’re drunk, your mind makes you think you’re moving and the cars are standing still.

You turn and lean against the brick wall, taking deep breaths and closing your eyes. It’ll go away. It’s been awhile since you’ve had this much to drink, but it’ll go away.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, anyway.

Then it feels like too much time has passed, so you push yourself off the wall, which on a normal day is fine, but right now makes you nearly fall flat on your face.

If it weren’t for someone catching you, you might’ve fallen. But thankfully, you feel two strong arms reaching out to steady you.

“Oh, thanks,” you chuckle, blinking quickly to calm the spinning. Your saviour’s face comes into view and it’s… “Aaron?”

“I’ve been calling you for an hour,” he says frantically. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was...dizzy-- Wait, why are you here?”

“Because you’re drunk and obviously in no state to be by yourself.”

“I’m fine.” You pause, blinking hard to get rid of the stars in your vision. “And I’m not alone. Megan and Der and...and Pen are inside.”

“Inside where?”

“Dancing, silly!” You smack his chest lightly, your eyes widening when your hand connects with the hard muscle. “Damn.” You poke harder. “Jesus. Do you-- Who is that?”

Aaron is nodding to someone to head inside and find your friends, or Megan at least because she’s the only one he knows. He turns his head back to you as the man disappears into the bar. “That’s my brother, Sean. He’s going to make sure your friends are okay.”

“They’re fine, Aaron, come on, lighten up a little.”

“You can’t even stand up straight.”

“Not my fault the Earth is fuckin’...spinning.”

“That’s it, you’re coming with me.”

“What?” You almost yell at him. It’s not that you’re afraid to, it’s a matter of explaining to Megan where you are and why you’re with Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m not leaving you here like this,” he says firmly. “I have a suite just a block from here. Did you drive here?”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head. “Uber.”

“Good,” Aaron replies. “Sean said he found Megan and your other friends and they’re fine.”

“I told you they were fine.”

“Mind your tone,” Aaron says. “Come on, my car’s over here.”

He slips his arm around your waist to help you walk, which is nice and all, but your legs don’t particularly feel like working. So, when your knees buckle, Aaron lifts you into his arms bridal style.

You don’t object. Your arms circle his neck and you sigh. You could fall asleep right here if the world wasn’t spinning so violently out of whack.

He carefully slips you into the backseat of his car, allowing you to lie down. You fall asleep to the sound of The Beatles’ white album playing through the car speakers.

+++

When you finally wake up, it’s well past noon. And your head is pounding.

No longer spinning, though, so that’s good at least. But you’re definitely not in your bedroom at your apartment, so that’s not good. At all.

Slowly, you sit up in the bed, noticing first that you’re not wearing what you went out in last night. Those clothes are folded up and sitting on one of the chairs around the small table by the window.

The window… Holy shit.

You scoot closer to the edge of the bed to get a better look out the window. This room -- you’re assuming a hotel -- has to be on the fifteenth floor or something crazy.

And judging by the furniture and everything else in here, it must be an expensive room. More than expensive. Something you can’t even dream about ever being able to afford.

The door opens abruptly then, scaring the absolute shit out of you. You instinctively bring the sheet up to cover yourself, despite being fully clothed.

“Good morning,” Aaron says. There’s not a single trace of amusement in his words as he shuts the door, tossing the keycard on the table.

“Morning,” you mumble, not moving the sheet from under your chin. He’s not in a usual suit, this time he’s wearing what looks like workout attire. “Were you running?”

“I run almost every morning,” he replies, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “You should take that.”

“Take what?”

He nods to the nightstand by the bed. Two painkillers sit on top of a napkin with a glass of orange juice next to it. You forego the orange juice and swallow the two pills dry.

Aaron raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t really like orange juice,” you shrug. Your eyes glance at his bottle of water, but quickly return to his face. He notices because nothing gets past him. He hands you the bottle without a word.

Quietly, you take a few sips, knowing better than to guzzle it like your body wants you to. You made that mistake once.

“You need to eat,” he says, walking over to the small kitchenette that you had yet to notice. He plops two pieces of bread into the toaster and pushes them down.

“Not too toasted,” you blurt without thinking. “I don’t go past setting 3...on mine...never mind.”

He smirks. “It’s only on 3, don’t worry.” Under his breath you hear him whisper, “Picky.”

You don’t argue with that. You know it’s true.

“I had my assistant send some clothes over. Emily Prentiss, you met her. She walked you in.”

You saw like four different women, but you’re assuming he means the brunette that walked you to his office. “Oh, yeah.” The same one that you had the fleeting suspicion that they were together at one point. “Her.”

“Problem?”

“No,” you shake your head, careful not to jostle your brain too much. “Just...you have a lot of women working for you. I think I saw four just in the small time I was there.”

He smiles gently, seemingly unfazed by your honesty. “If it matters that much to you, you should know I interviewed men and women alike for their jobs. The women exceedingly out-performed the men.”

“Maybe because they’re-- Oh my God. I need to shut up. This is what happens when I’m hungover. My filter just goes right out the damn window.”

“They’re what?”

“You do not want me to say it--”

“I do.”

“Maybe they’re just attracted to you, which is why they out-performed the men because they were just trying to impress you-- I’m so sorry, that sounds so shallow, and I don’t even know any of them that well.”

“It doesn’t sound shallow,” he smirks, “it sounds jealous.”

“I’m not--”

The toaster dings, and you cut yourself off before you can further your embarrassment. Aaron accepts your silence and stands to retrieve your breakfast.

“Whose clothes am I wearing?” You ask. “And who…” You don’t finish your second question because it becomes clear when Aaron turns around that both answers are his.

You’re wearing his t-shirt and he put them on you.

“Eat,” he orders gently, handing you the plate of now buttered toast. Barely toasted, not burnt, exactly the way you like it.

He waits until you’ve eaten half of the first piece before he begins lecturing you.

“You shouldn’t get drunk like that. You put yourself at risk last night, do you understand that?”

“I know,” you nod, finishing chewing before you add, “but I was with friends--”

“I asked if you understand. Not for an excuse.”

His reply and his tone has your eyes widening. Tentatively, you nod again.

“Use your words. I need to hear you say that you understand.”

“I...I understand. I’m sorry. It won’t-- I won’t do that again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” he mutters. “Do you know how badly the night could’ve ended if it wasn’t me that saw you outside? You were out of it, Y/N, anyone could’ve easily taken advantage of you.”

You didn’t think you were that drunk, but you must have been if he’s this upset. He doesn’t seem like the type to get visibly upset over nothing.

“I understand,” you say. “Thank you for...for taking care of me. Just out of curiosity, though, where is Megan? And does she know I’m here?”

“Last I heard, Sean took her back to your apartment. I haven’t heard from him this morning. Why?”

“Uh, no reason. Where’s my phone?”

“Over here, I put it on the charger.” He walks over to the small table and unplugs your phone, handing it to you. “Have you not told your roommate yet? I know we haven’t made anything official, but I assumed you had since you did the interview for her.”

“Nope. Haven’t told her. Didn’t even tell her we went to lunch.” You open up your text messages, but there aren’t any from her, which is surprising. There’s one from an unknown number, but the message says it’s Penelope, so you’re assuming Derek gave her your number. You’ll reply to her later.

“Why are you panicking?”

“I’m not, I just…”

He sighs heavily, sitting on the end of the bed. He threads his fingers together and rests them on his knee, staring at the floor. “This is why I wanted you to think.”

“I did think. I made up my mind. I want to do this.”

“Why?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. “Give me your reasoning.”

You click your phone off and toss it aside, showing him that this has your full attention. “I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve always lived on a narrow path because that was safe. I’ve done it with writing. Instead of pursuing a different career, I stuck with what I know how to do because it’s safe.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. “I want to be spontaneous, Aaron. When Megan showed me pictures of you the night before the interview, I was enthralled. It’s not uncommon for me to become fascinated with someone solely for their looks. That’s my thing. I get a new crush every other week on someone new. I allow myself to look at them and bask in their beauty, but I’ve never gotten closer. I’ve never had something like this happen. I’ve never been attracted to someone and then been flung into a situation where I got to be with them one-on-one. I’ve never been so...mystified by someone before. And I’ve definitely never had them email me and want to get to know me, too. Or take me to lunch.”

He smiles, looking bashful, which isn’t normal for him, you can tell, but it’s adorable.

“My point is, I’m not a big believer in fate or whatever, I never have been, but this has to mean something. And I would be an idiot not to see where it goes, even if just for the sake of you showing me the ropes of romance -- which I need anyway, this novel isn’t going to magically appear. I want to do this, Aaron.”

You’re seconds away from grabbing his hand, but you don’t. For all you know, he could hear this and still decide against it. Maybe that’s the better decision.

But you don’t want to make the better decision right now. You want to be reckless.

“I want to do this,” you say again. “And I want to do it with you.”

You finish your speech and sit back, knowing you only allowed yourself to be this vulnerable because you’re hungover. But really you wanted to say all that to him yesterday. You were just too drunk to properly say it.

To your surprise, he doesn’t reply, not verbally. Instead, he leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips as he uses his index finger to tilt your chin, lining your lips up with his. And he kisses you. Almost even more fiercely than yesterday, but still stealing all of the air from your lungs.

You pull away first, scrunching your nose. “Sorry...I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

He chuckles. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom. You’re welcome to take a shower, too.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “I might just wait until I’m back at my place with all of my stuff.”

“Understandable,” he nods. “Would you like to brush your teeth before I shower?”

“Go ahead. I’m gonna finish eating.”

“Okay.” To your surprise, he kisses your forehead before going off to shower.

When the water turns on, you pick your phone back up and see a text message from Megan.

Megan: You have some explaining to do...but so do I because Sean Hotchner and I slept together last night

Your eyes widen. For fuck’s sake.

Next chapter

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. ��Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[americasmarauders]

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2. 

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned.  no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it. 

words: 11,416

mastelist

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It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her. 

 Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school. 

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain. 

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes. 

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something  books couldn’t even soothe. 

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head -  words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him. 

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at. 

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours. 

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite. 

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off  a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.  

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it. 

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth. 

“Fast reader?” she asked. 

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him. 

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent. 

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way. 

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts. 

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized. 

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter. 

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself. 

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were. 

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself -  good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did,  “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind. 

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened. 

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him. 

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to.  #

#

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve. 

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise. 

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks. 

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that. 

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf,  “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous. 

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot. 

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her. 

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter. 

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion. 

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful. 

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him. 

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him. 

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned. 

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless. 

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes. 

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault. 

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony. 

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was. 

#

#

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of  incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind. 

 Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had  only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time  she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong. 

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her. 

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain. 

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough. 

She picked a single memory and entered it. 

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened. 

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought. 

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said. 

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation. 

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started. 

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it. 

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him. 

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her. 

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him.  She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

#

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help. 

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves. 

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused. 

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before. 

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her. 

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering. 

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

#

#

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily. 

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid. 

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

 “How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves. 

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant. 

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad. 

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible,  he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to. 

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her. 

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain. 

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else. 

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks. 

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes. 

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes. 

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

#

#

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk. 

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return. 

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently. 

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it. 

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head.  It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding. 

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be. 

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.” 

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it. 

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards. 

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet. 

#

#

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person. 

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day. 

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically. 

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind. 

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold. 

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted. 

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it. 

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door. 

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time. 

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily. 

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words. 

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out. 

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem. 

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true. 

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared. 

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out. 

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together. 

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before.  “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips. 

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry. 

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly.  “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor. 

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others. 

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down. 

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head. 

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. 

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before. 

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his.  “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[goldentsum]

— delivery boy

PAIRING: shinsou x reader

GENRE: fluff, awkward scenes

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: a sleep-deprived college student just trying to get by the hellhole he’s in by getting a job as a delivery boy. shinsou hates what he does but if he can get a certain cutie, it might lessen his hatred for his job. 

TAGS: college au, just fluff with soft and awkward shinsou, sleep-deprived! shinsou as always, cursing, crack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: quarantine made me do it. sighhh, can’t i have a cute delivery boy everytime i order shit? also, shinsou is me pls. D:<

shinsou hates his job. he doesn’t like it one bit. the way some orders are too long that he was using his big brain juice all the time or when someone cancels their order when he already bought the fucking food, he absolutely hates it. his faith in humanity is decreasing at a rapid speed with his job, not like it exists to begin with anyway.

the purple-haired male is proud of his 4.0 gpa despite him slowly losing his sanity as he lose sleep over it but there was this asshole of a teacher in literature 3 was making it difficult to maintain it just because the old geezer has his head stuck in his ass and he won’t even give them the ppt slides, that asshole. 

shinsou rubbed his tired eyes while his one hand typed on his computer, listening to the asshole professor in front. the male craned his neck and massaged his neck then took a quick sip of coffee, closing his eyes as he did so. when he opened his eyes the slide in front was already different, making him put down his drink in surprise and tried to copy the notes in a hurry, cursing quietly when he noticed that the last sentence in his notes was cut off.

he fussed over his notes because it was the only thing that’s keeping him from failing the class. the professor was an asshole and liked to pick on his students and shinsou absolutely hates him. he swears when he graduates, he’ll curse the professor off and flip him off as he walks away from this hellhole. 

when the class finished, shinsou looked at his notes in horror. it was cut off in a lot of places and so incoherent that when he tried to read it, he thought he gave himself an aneurysm because of it. 

his tired eyes stared blankly at his screen while his internal monologue went on about how he’ll just find a sugar mommy and live his best life while the other students went out the room. his thoughts were then cut off when he heard an oh so familiar voice echoing out to him like a siren in the sea. 

purple eyes turned to the side and saw you with your friends who were waiting outside the classroom door as you walked away from his sight. shinsou’s not gonna admit it but he finds you really pretty. you’re just so soft and small compared to him. your sweet smile was always present every morning unlike his dead eyes and resting bitch face. annoyingly, you always distract him from the lessons which freaks him out. 

no one has ever fazed him but then you came along with your annoyingly pretty face and aesthetic outfits. always sitting beside him, you smelled really sweet too as creepy as that sounds, and you always greet him with such softness that it made him wanna vomit rainbows and sparkles. no one has ever caught his attention so how the hell can you distract him without even doing anything? 

also, why do you write your notes in a notebook and still make it look really good and clean? every time he looks over to your side, he sees your notes and his eyes bulge out when your pretty handwriting, the cute and small illustrations, and pretty colors of your notes fill his sight. 

that’s also one of the things shinsou liked admired about you. you’re probably the only person in your whole batch who writes their notes on a notebook, not that it’s a bad thing but how can your notes still be so pretty and organized even with professor asshole’s hellish pace of changing the slides? 

shinsou sighed and ran a hand through his messy tresses then fixed his things up to get away from the hellhole and come home to his lovely bed. It must've been at least 24 hours since he last slept because he was up all night the other day to fix and perfect every assignment in the devil’s class. 

when he finally got to his dorm, a huge sigh of relief left him as the tall male practically collapsed on his bed. his fatigue overcame him in an instant as his eyes closed in instinct, finally sleeping after stressing so much and intaking coffee, lots of coffee. thank god that it was friday and he didn’t have to wake up early because he finally passed his requirements to every class for the semester.

it was already the next afternoon when shinsou woke up, his body ached but at least he wasn’t running on caffeine to keep him from falling over and dying on the spot. 

loud clanking was heard from his kitchen as he perked up in confusion for a moment then groaned in dread when he realized who it was. shinsou let his head hit the pillow once again, staring at his ceiling and he felt a headache coming in already.

fucking kaminari is in his dorm again. he didn’t get the blond’s actions but the latter always told him that he was “making sure he wasn’t dead yet” but shinsou knows that kaminari only wants free food but he appreciates the effort, he guesses but can’t kaminari check if he wasn’t dead a little quieter? 

he sighed in annoyance and grabbed his phone, going out after stretching and feeling his bone pop satisfyingly. shinsou was greeted with the sight of kaminari fighting with the sizzling oil on the pan in his kitchen. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” shinsou’s bored voice reached the blond male who looked at him and smiled, “morning dude. i noticed you had bacon so i’m gonna cook it.” 

shinsou was about to reply but the sharp yelp kaminari let out cut him off and he watched the shorter male curse at the pan, rubbing the spot where the hot oil hit him. 

he scoffed at the scene and shook his head as he sat on the couch and opened the tv. he was scrolling idly through the channels and when he didn’t find anything entertaining, he stopped on the news. 

opening his phone to check his social media feed as he let the tv and kaminari’s curses and screams become background noises. shinsou just wants to see what type of shit people are in these days and it wasn’t because he’s gonna stalk your account. definitely not that. 

shinsou scrolled through your pictures on ig, admiring the aesthetic ones combined with chaotic energy in your profile. he smiled a bit when he noticed you unarchived an old pic in your ig. you had shorter hair in the picture and wore some funky shades. 

“ohh~ who’s that? she’s cute” kaminari popped out behind him, looking at shinsou’s phone over his shoulders. shinsou jumped at his friend’s presence, letting go off his phone accidentally as he tried to grab it to not let it smack against the hard floor. 

when shinsou saved his phone, he whipped his head and glared at kaminari, “what the fuck, denki!” 

“geez, sorry man” the latter nervously chuckled and walked back to the kitchen with fear coursing in his body when the taller male’s glare didn’t falter. shinsou rolled his eyes at him and looked at his phone. his usual dead eyes widened whilst horror filled his system. 

on his phone, it showed your old picture from a year ago and on the bottom left, the heart was filled. shinsou quickly unliked the picture and threw the phone beside him on the couch as if it burned him. 

“what the fuck what the fuck no no no no--” he mumbled in distress, his heart beating a mile per second. he paled when he imagined seeing you again in class on monday. 

“i’m gonna puke,” shinsou muttered and held his head, eyes wavering in fear. kaminari poked his head from the kitchen and saw his distressed figure. 

“um? shinsou? are you okay, dude?” 

when he heard kaminari’s voice, his head whipped to him in a snap. shinsou smiled at him as a shiver ran down kaminari’s spine. “do i look okay, denki?” 

a loud scream echoed in shinsou’s dorm and that was the last time anyone has ever seen kaminari denki. rip. 

shinsou was stressing the fuck out, he even felt tears prick his eyes with how stressed out he is. nothing could compare to the stress he’s feeling right now well maybe his first finals was also this stressful but that’s not the point. kaminari tried to cheer him up with some bacon and eggs but the male was so snappy though he ate the food after denki left. 

after sulking in his dorm, he shook it off and tried to take his mind off it. he showered, worked out a bit in his room, and made some shake but the embarrassment was always looming in the back of his mind. you might think he’s a creep or something. you two barely talked to each other with only good mornings and pleasantries exchanged for the whole semester so what the hell is he gonna do?! 

before he knew it, he was accepting some orders in his phone to let out some steam and keep him busy. for the first 2 orders everything was fine but he suddenly got tired and the shame he left at his apartment was still in his system. so he accepted the last order for today before going back to his dorm to do his last resort of screaming into the void. he then went to the boba shop to get the orders. 

getting the order, he went straight to a nearby dorm in his campus that’s being shown in his phone to get the money and yeet himself out afterwards. shinsou rubbed his neck, mentally and physically tired after going around and delivering people their food and from getting a harsh life-changing embarrassment happen to him. he’s never gonna stalk you or anyone for that matter again and if he ever sees you again, he’s gonna jump through the nearest fucking window, he doesn’t even care anymore. 

as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door and get the heavy milk teas off his hand, he was already thinking of going to another school and just live a whole new second life. dramatic as that sounds but it was tempting at this point.

but life was not having it. life wants to see him suffer thoroughly. before he thought he just had some bad luck but now, he knows that life was fucking him over and laughing at his misery. 

the door opened and in came to view the last person he wants to see right now, you, and it’s not fair, why are you answering the door with an oversized shirt and some shorts with messy hair, looking like a goddamn cutie! you want to kill him, don’t you? 

your (e/c) eyes gleam with familiarity when you see the awkward tall male from your class and saw the precious boba in one of his hands.

“shinsou, right? i didn’t know you did delivery?” you smiled at him making the purple-headed male scream internally. he cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “y-yeah, the pay isn’t that much but it helps...” he replied so painfully awkward that if anyone sees you two, they’ll cringe. it was that bad.

but being the angel that you are, you giggled and nodded as if you weren’t affected by his awkwardness. he’s thankful for that. 

“wait a second, okay? i’ll get the payment” you chimed and he nodded as you run inside the dorm. shinsou’s mind was running a mile per second, did you not receive the notification of his shameful actions? or were you being an angel and sparing him the embarrassment? 

he wants to hibernate and never leave him bed after this. shinsou snapped out of his thoughts when he saw you jogging towards him with the same beautiful smile you wear everyday and he unconsciously straightened up. 

“here you go! thank you, shinsou!” you giggled and got the milk teas of his hands while you gave the money to him. 

“thank you, (y/n)... um, are you gonna drink all of that?” he asked, cursing his mouth when he just blurted it out. your eyebrows quirk playfully and chuckled, shaking your head no. 

“no, silly. my friends are inside” shinsou nodded stiffly and looked around making you two just stand in silence. a painfully awkward silence. shinsou saw you were about to say something but a loud voice from inside the room called out.

“(y/n), where the fuck are you?! the boba! ..shit-! i saw that, you cheater!” you looked back and rolled your eyes then looked back at him. you waved your hand at him with a smile, “well bye, shinsou. thanks again” and closed the door. 

shinsou exhaled a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking at the closed door. he then walked away though his eyes were going to the door again and again until he couldn’t see it anymore. he looked at his hand and saw a piece of paper inside the bundle of money. 

with furrowed brows, he opened the folded paper and he was floored! 

hi shinsou! call me sometime! :)

xxx-xxxxxxx

-(y/n) 

okay, maybe being a delivery boy isn’t so bad after all. he got your number didn’t he? talk about lucky! 

extra crack ending: when you and shinsou are finally dating

(y/n): so... are we really not gonna talk about the post that you liked in my ig?

shinsou: you knew?! 

(y/n): duh bitch.

[carolina-bleus]

~Something You Read: From Rick to Michonne~

“I cannot believe he actually logged into class this morning from his bed! I think he’d just woken up like five minutes before. He could barely hold his eyes open and had bed hair and everything. Who even does that?” Michonne scoffed.

Rick chuckled. “That sounds exactly like something Shane would do.”

“Mr. Horvath even had to tell him to put on a shirt...which got a lot of grumbling from some of the girls.”

“You included?”

Rick outright laughed at the look of disgust Michonne shot him through his phone’s screen.

“Richard Sutton Grimes, I am offended! You know I have better taste than that. No offense to Shane, but it would have to be the end of the world and we’d have to be the last hope for continuation of the human race before I’d even consider him anything other than a smug nuisance.”

“Ouch! So I’ll take that as a no.”

“Take that as a hell no!”

“Michonne Colette Richardson with the potty mouth! I’m gonna tell your mama and daddy.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? I get grounded and confined to the house and not allowed to go out with my friends? Too late, Miss Rona already beat them to that,” Michonne replied glumly.

“Yeah, it sucks. I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our senior year of high school. I thought everything would be back to normal by now.”

“I don’t even know what normal is anymore.  I certainly hope this isn’t our new normal...going to school online, not being able to hang out and only seeing each other “face to face” through a screen in class or during phone calls.”

“I never thought I’d say this...and if you tell my mama, I’ll deny it...but I actually miss school. Not the work,” Rick quickly added. “I miss interacting with everybody, even Eugene and his mullet.”

“Really, Rick? Of all the classmates you could name, you pick Eugene...and his mullet...and not me?”

“You know you’re not just my classmate. You’re my best friend, Michonne. Of course I miss you.”

More than you even know, Rick thought.

“I miss you, too. The two of us haven’t been in the same space in what feels like forever and I’m over it. We don’t even get to go the mountains for Christmas this year,” Michonne lamented.

The Grimes and Richardson families were extremely close. The teens’ parents grew up together in King County and had been close long before Rick and Michonne were born. The families had been planning to spend Christmas break in a vacation home rented out for the holidays. But, now instead of a big Christmas celebration in the mountains, the families were doing as they had for Thanksgiving and keeping their celebrations small and confined to immediate family. Gift giving was even different this year.

The families decided to keep it simple and follow a modified version of the five-gift rule. Each household pulled the name of someone from the other household. The gift recipient told the gift giver what category they wanted their gift to represent. Luckily, Rick and Michonne pulled each other’s names. But even if they hadn’t, they would have managed to get a gift for each other a gift anyway. Michonne wanted “something you read” and Rick asked for “something you want.” Michonne’s gift was already wrapped and ready on Rick’s nightstand.

The canceled vacation and altered holiday routines were just another reminder of how different things were this year. Rick and Michonne had been inseparable since they were babies. They’d seen each other just about every day before pandemic brought their in-person interactions to a halt. The physical separation was something neither teen had really gotten used to even after so many months.

Michonne sighed. “You think it will be like this when we get older if everything does go back to normal and we can get on with our lives?”

“What do you mean?” Rick asked.

“We’re about to go off to college in some form or another and start the next phase of our lives. Do you think this is what it will be like...never seeing each other except through calls or whenever there is a holiday?”

“You think we’re going to grow apart?” Rick asked with a tilt of his head.

Michonne shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope not. But I never thought I’d live through a pandemic either. Life’s funny that way.”

“I know you want to explore the world and go to all these exciting places during and after college. But what about later? Do you think you’ll come back home? To your family?”

To me?

Rick had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember. He’d never quite found the words to tell her. He thought maybe he’d ask her to prom and do it then but prom most likely wasn’t going to happen this year. Rick worried if he’d even get the chance to hug Michonne again before they went off to different colleges next fall.

“You mean come back home to live?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah.”

“Is that what you’re going to do...come back home after college?”

“That’s been the plan.”

“Have you ever thought about living somewhere else?”

“Not really...but I guess I would for the right reason.”

And the right person.

“What reason would that be?”

You.

Rick shrugged. “I guess I’ll know when I know.”

Michonne looked away briefly before clearing her throat. “Oh...well, we don’t have to worry about that for a little while longer, anyway.  Soon it will be Christmas break. And then it will be New Year’s Eve and we can put this hellish year behind us and start looking forward to the future...wherever that takes us.”

“Michonne, I---

A knock sounded on Rick’s door.  It opened and his mom stood in the doorway.

“Honey, I know it’s distance learning but you still need to get some rest for tomorrow. Michonne, you do as well,” Mrs. Grimes added, knowing without question who Rick was talking to this late.

“Yes ma’am,” the teens replied in unison.

“Alright. Goodnight you two. Love you both.”

“Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, Auntie Suzanne.”

Once his mother closed the door behind her, Rick turned back to the screen.

“Rick, what were you about to say before?”

“Oh...umm...just that I hope you like the Christmas gift I got you.”

“You always pick out the best gifts, so I’m not worried. Well, I guess we better head to bed. Talk to you in the morning before classes?”

“Of course. Goodnight, Michonne.”

“Goodnight, Rick.”

The best friends ended their call and Rick slouched down with a sigh. He had been about to confess his feelings to Michonne right then and there. Her conversation about them growing apart scared him. He didn’t want to lose her.

But what if telling her how I feel pushes her away?

Needing to get his feelings off his chest somehow, Rick tore a piece of paper from his notebook, grabbed a pen and began to write.

Dear Michonne,

You’ve been my best friend since before we could talk and I hope you remain so even after I tell you what’s in my heart. Michonne, I love you...I’m in love with you. Whew! It feels good to FINALLY say that. I’ve loved you since...well, honestly, I can’t think of a time when I didn’t love you in some way.  Every moment that’s meant something in my life has had you in it...holding my hand when I was scared on our very first day of school, when you helped me study for and win the spelling bee in third grade, when we took down the school bully, Phillip, on the playground in fifth grade, being each other’s first kiss in sixth grade and each other’s date for our first high school dance, sitting and crying with me when my grandpa died from the virus, stressing about applying to college early decision and celebrating together when we both got into our dream schools. The serious moments, the fun moments and everything in between...you’ve been there.  And somewhere along the way, my love for you grew beyond friendship.

I can be my whole self with you because you bring out the best of who I am and you inspire me to want to be even better.  You’re the one person I can tell anything and everything to without hesitation. You’re the only person I want to tell everything to. So, you’re probably wondering why I never told you how I feel. Well, I haven’t told you for the same reason your question about us drifting apart scared me...I don’t want to lose you. I can’t imagine...I don’t want to imagine...us not being in each other’s lives. I didn’t want to risk pushing you away or making you feel weird. I still don’t want that. But this year has taught me more than ever that life is short, time is precious and you have to let the people in your lives always know how you truly feel about them while you can.

Whatever you feel for me, please know that your happiness and our friendship are the most important things to me. And I want us to always remain friends, and in each other’s lives, whether or not we ever become a couple. I know we’ll be walking different paths for the next few years, but I hope those paths always lead us back to each other.

This is my first love confession I’ve ever written so I’m not really sure how to end it. I guess, thank you for reading it.

Love always,

Rick

P.S.- If you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to say anything. We can just pretend this never happened.

Finished, Rick neatly folded the paper in half, wrote Michonne’s name on the front, and placed it on his nightstand beside Michonne’s gift.

Now the question remains if I’ll ever give it to her.

*****

Before Rick knew it, there was only one more week until school let out for the holiday break. He’d decided to have a change of scenery and attended school in his dad’s study today. Returning to his room, Rick plopped down on his bed and reached for his phone that he’d left on the nightstand. To his horror, the phone was there, but Michonne’s gift...and more importantly, Michonne’s note...were both gone.

“MAMA!”

“What?! Why are you yelling?”

“Mama, where’s Michonne’s gift?”

“Your Aunt Sheila and I did our socially distanced gift exchange this afternoon. I dropped their gifts off on their porch and ours were waiting there in a box. I already put them under the tree.”

“So you got Michonne’s gift from me off of my table?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to the piece of paper that was there as well?”

“Well, it had Michonne’s name on it, so I put it in a nice envelope...since you neglected to do so...and added it to her present.”

“Oh, Mama, you didn’t,” Rick groaned.

“Yes, I did. It was beside Michonne’s gift. It had her name on it. It was meant for her right?”

“Yes, ma’am. It was.”

“So why are you looking like I just destroyed your world?”

Because you may just accidentally have.

“Uh...it’s nothing,” Rick hedged. “I uh...I just wanted to exchange gifts in person.”

Mrs. Grimes nodded sympathetically.

“I know sweetie. We all wanted to do that this year, but we have to take the necessary precautions to keep everyone safe.”

Unfortunately, my heart might have just become collateral damage.

The morning after he wrote it, Rick had decided not to give Michonne the letter. He still felt the same way, but he just couldn’t run the risk of his confession altering their friendship in a negative way. However, now all he could do was wait and hope Michonne didn’t take an early peek at her gifts like she used to do when they were kids.

Rick looked at the date on his phone...December 10...fifteen days until Michonne opened the letter. He smiled wistfully at his lock screen.  It was picture of him and Michonne that she forced him to take on the last day they saw each other before their world got turned on its head. They were lounging in the hammock in his family’s backyard just talking about their hopes for senior year and beyond. It had been a perfect afternoon. He’d almost told her how he felt then but backed out at the last minute. Now the decision to tell had been taken out of his hands.

Man, I hope I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life.

 *****

As the days to Christmas dwindled down, Rick didn’t notice a change in Michonne or their interactions. They still spoke every morning and every night and she acted the same as always. Rick didn’t know if that meant she hadn’t yet read the letter or that she had and was just not saying anything because didn’t have any romantic feelings for him.

Rick had tried to bribe Michonne’s younger brother, Noah, to find and destroy the letter. But that ended in utter failure. Noah couldn’t find the letter and he got yelled at by Michonne for snooping around her room. But Noah was true to his word (and the fifty dollars Rick sent to his cash app) and never implicated Rick in the plot.

~Christmas Eve~

Rick’s nerves were shot.

One more day until I know if I need to ask to go live with Granny Grimes down in Florida to finish out senior year.

Rick hadn’t spoken to Michonne at all today, which was a rarity.

Maybe she’s avoiding me.

Rick trudged glumly down the stairs so lost in thought that the sudden ringing of the doorbell scared him.

“Did y’all order food?” Rick called out to his family.

“No! It might be a package though,” his father yelled back.

Assuming the delivery person left the package on the porch, Rick pulled open the door without hesitation. He nearly fell over when he saw who was waiting.

“Michonne?! What are you doing here?” Rick started to push open the storm door, but caught himself. “Wait, a second.”

Rick grabbed his mask off the hallway table and put it on before stepping outside. The teens stood on opposite ends of the porch.

Michonne offered a small wave. “Hey, Rick. I came over because I wanted to see you.”

“Why? It must be important if you came in person.”

Oh, man. Is she going to break my heart in person?

“I promise to explain. But, first, I need you to answer some questions.”

“Questions? Why?”

“You’ll see.” Michonne pulled out her phone and unlocked it. “Okay, have you experienced any of the following recently...fever, cough, or headaches?”

“No.”

“Good. Fatigue...muscle or body aches...loss of taste or smell?”

“No.”

“Sore throat...nausea...diarrhea?”

“Michonne!”

“Rick, just answer the question.”

“No.”

“Has anyone in your family experienced those symptoms recently?”

Rick shook his head. “No.”

“Where have you been in the past fourteen days?”

“I’ve been home.” Stressing out over a letter.

“You haven’t gone anywhere outside? Not even to the grocery store?”

“Other than the porch or backyard, I’ve been in the house.”

“Good. I’ve haven’t gone anywhere for the past fourteen days either. I’ve been in the house and avoiding anyone who doesn’t live in my house...basically a self-imposed quarantine.”

“Why?”

“So I could do this.”

Michonne removed her mask and walked over to Rick.  She reached up and removed his mask, smiling at the question in his eyes before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his lips. After a moment of shocked delay, Rick quickly responded by wrapping his arms around Michonne and deepening the kiss.

Needing a breath and a moment to process it all, the couple slowly broke off their kiss and stared at each other with twin smiles on their faces.

“I take it you read the letter?” Rick asked.

Michonne nodded. “Exactly fourteen days ago.”

“You read it the first night?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve never had anyone confess their love for me before...at least not outside of a daydream. I needed time some time to deal.”

“And do you feel the same way?”

“Rick, I quarantined for fourteen days just so I could kiss you. What do you think that means?”

“Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

Michonne rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off of her face.

“I love you, too, Rick.”

“Romantically?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as I can remember.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Michonne shrugged. “It’s the same reason you didn’t. I was scared and I didn’t want to lose you in case you didn’t feel the same way.”

“But we both feel the same way. So...we’re a couple?”

“Almost. There is something you have to say first.”

“What?” Then it dawned on Rick and he flushed, suddenly shy. “I wrote it in the letter.”

“Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

Rick chuckled at his words being thrown back at him, before he turned serious.

“I love you, Michonne.”

Michonne’s face lit up with a smile that took Rick’s breath away.

“Now, we’re a couple,” she declared.

Rick took Michonne’s hand and led her over to the porch swing.  The couple drew close under the blanket Rick’s mom kept there for the chilly winter nights.

“Guess I won’t have to open any gifts tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?” Michonne questioned.

“Christmas came early. I have everything I want now.”

Michonne smiled and pulled Rick into a hug.  When they separated, a sudden question occurred to Rick.

“Hey, did you open my actual gift I got you to read?” Rick asked.

“Not yet, I was waiting until tomorrow. I only opened the letter because I thought it was a card. I’m glad I didn’t wait though because that letter was truly the best thing I’ve read in my entire life.”

Rick blushed happily at Michonne’s words. 

“Well, maybe you’ll read something even better one day.”

“Like what?”

“Our wedding vows.”

Michonne’s eyes widened before she smiled sweetly, “Yeah, maybe one day.”

The couple shared another kiss before they cuddled against each other and slowly rocked in the swing, enjoying the Christmas lights shining across the neighborhood.

@richonnefics

[morningfears]

Nontraditional Graduation

Rating: PG

Summary: Calum feels bad that you have to miss graduation so he takes it upon himself to give you the best nontraditional graduation he can. || ((The class of 2020′s graduation isn’t exactly looking like the traditional graduation and as a member of that class, I was a little upset about it. So, here’s my take on a comfort fic.))

Word Count: 2.8k

Quarantine was, for lack of a better word, strange.

There were parts of it, namely spending your days with Calum and Duke in some sort of domestic fantasy, making up for lost time, that were almost nice. Not having to leave your home and go out into the world was almost nice, too. Under any other circumstances, you would’ve relished in these things. However, life felt a bit surreal and reality weighed heavily on your shoulders.

The street you lived on was never busy but as neighbors hunkered down and waited, the street (and city itself) was quiet. You saw the occasional neighbor out for a walk, never straying too far from their own home, and the mail carrier making their rounds but the streets felt eerily quiet. Life, understandably, felt like a movie that was placed on pause in March and forgotten about. 

Time had always felt like a stable concept, something dependable and easy to count on, but it no longer felt that way as days passed with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Four in the morning felt no different than four in the afternoon, Monday no different than Friday. If it weren’t for Calum’s weekly video chats with the boys - on Thursdays, of course, as Thursdays were for the boys -, you were afraid that you wouldn’t even know what day it was.

Before quarantine began, you’d been good about keeping your schedule written in a planner. Your work schedule was always there, right beside your class schedule, and your assignment due dates were even color-coded. It was helpful, a way to keep your hectic life in some sort of balance, and you’d managed to keep up with it for the first few weeks of quarantine. However, all of your organization flew out the window as the fatigue and discomfort of the situation really began to set in.

March and April had come and gone without so much as an indication of their passing and May’s arrival hit you much harder than you imagined it would.

Thankfully, your final semester of college was a light one. You’d planned it that way from the beginning, thanks to your advisor, and had ensured yourself a light course load that was supposed to leave you with time to job hunt and hang out with friends before everyone inevitably went their separate ways. You were grateful to your past self for that decision as you’d only had a few short Zoom meetings and a handful of easy assignments to submit in the month and a half between spring break and graduation.

If you were honest with yourself, graduation was something that you’d been looking forward to since August. It was a major achievement and you were excited to walk across the platform and gather the degree you’d busted your ass to earn. You and your friends had taken cliche photos in front of campus landmarks with a silly sign that read ‘Last First Day’ before classes began and had planned to make one that read ‘Now what?’ for after the ceremony. Your more artistic friends agreed to help decorate graduation caps, something you’d been looking forward to, and you’d even planned a Disney trip for the weekend before so that you could take photos in your cap and gown.

To make things even better, Calum had been able to book a later flight than the others so that he could stay in LA long enough for your graduation before heading out on tour with you by his side.

On paper, your plans were picture perfect. Everything felt like it was falling into place, like it was meant to be, and you were beyond excited. You were ready for something, anything, to celebrate the hard work you’d put in over the years - the late nights holed up in the library, studying and writing; the breakdowns over grades; the stress from trying your best to earn a degree.

But the universe had other plans.

You’d been the realistic one of your friends, cancelling plans and coming to terms with the fact that you most likely wouldn’t get a graduation the moment stay-at-home orders were announced, and spent the majority of your time trying to stay positive. There was nothing you could do to change what was happening and you knew that the cancellations were happening for the best.

Everyone was safer at home.

However, the positivity came at a price. Every time a negative emotion began to bubble, you swallowed it. Whenever you felt sad that you would no longer have late night dinners with friends after a rough class, whenever you felt disappointed that you had to cancel a road trip or a Disney trip, whenever you felt hurt that you wouldn’t get a graduation ceremony despite the hard work you put in to earn your degree, you bit them all back and reminded yourself that things could be worse.

You didn’t allow yourself to feel the emotions that were festering beneath the surface because they made you feel guilty. Feeling anything other than grateful for your health and comfort in the fact that you knew this situation wouldn’t make you or break you lodged an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach so you avoided those thoughts altogether.

However, as desperately as you avoided the negative thoughts for yourself, you were quick to comfort your loved ones and encourage them to experience their emotions fully. Calum, especially.

You knew that he was heartbroken - as were the others - that their plans for the album had had to change so drastically, so quickly. They’d all been so excited, so ready to release the album they’d put so much of themselves into, and things came to a grinding halt. You knew that they were devastated that the release of such a personal album had to be under such conditions. They couldn’t celebrate with the fans and, even worse, they couldn’t celebrate with one another.

Calum never complained but he did acknowledge his feelings. He talked openly, to you, about how disappointed he was that things were going the way they were even though he understood it all. He got it off his chest and moved on. You understood, he’d worked hard and deserved to have the album release they’d all been planning for. You told him as much in the days immediately surrounding the release, words of comfort leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through the blonde curls you were praying he kept.

And that was why he was completely and utterly baffled when he learned that you didn’t feel you deserved the same.

You’d never outright told him that you were upset about having to cancel your travel or that graduation was cancelled - in fact, you’d joked that you were glad because it meant you didn’t have to deal with crowds or packing - but he could tell just how much it was hurting you. You avoided bringing up those topics yourself and when you only offered enough words to move past them in a conversation, he learned to leave them alone. He could tell that you felt guilty for feeling sad and it broke his heart.

You’d worked so hard for graduation, for the things that were coming after, and to see you trying to pretend that it didn’t matter that they were cancelled worried him.

You were upset, more so than he realized, and he wanted to do something to make your nontraditional graduation a little easier on you. You’d been so kind and understanding when he was upset over the album release, when your friends were upset over their own cancelled plans, and to him, graduating college was an astounding accomplishment that deserved a celebration.

So, with the help of friends, he set out to make it a day that you would never forget.

Distracting you in order to set up for the impromptu graduation ceremony and party he was planning was much easier than he’d imagined it would be. You forgot that it was even supposed to be your graduation day - to be fair, you’d forgotten what day it was generally - until the calls from your family started rolling in.

You spent your morning on the phone, thanking relatives for their well wishes, but as everyone lamented the loss of a traditional ceremony on your behalf, he could tell that even though they meant well, the calls weren’t exactly helpful.

He knew that you didn’t want to talk about it, not yet,  and that you wanted to be alone so he encouraged you to go for a walk with Duke around the neighborhood. He sent you off with a kiss and he was glad to see that you felt better when you returned thirty minutes later. Your shoulders were lifted and your eyes were lighter as you watched Duke settle onto the couch for a nap after his adventure but your movements were still sluggish as you wandered around the house in search of something - anything - to entertain you.

In an effort to keep you out of the backyard for just a little longer, he guided you to the couch and encouraged you to take a nap with Duke, to cuddle up and watch television - binge something now that you were officially done with school and had time to properly enjoy it without the guilt of putting off schoolwork. It was easy, getting you to settle in, and he felt his heart break slightly as he watched you fight tears.

He took a little over an hour to finish decorating the backyard, each piece of his elaborate plan falling into place finally, before he returned to the living room. The first thing that Calum saw was you, curled up on the couch beneath a heavy blanket a friend had given you for Christmas, with Duke lying on your stomach and tears in your eyes as you watched a scene that would have pulled a few tears from you, already sad or not.

He bit back a laugh, both at your emotional investment in the show and at Duke’s annoyed huff as you made a noise at the scene, before he crossed the living room and kneeled down beside the couch. He waited a second, just until the credits began to roll, before pausing the television and nudging your shoulder.

“You okay, love?”

His words were soft, quiet in the still air of the living room, and he knew that the answer was no but, as expected, you nodded. “I’ve never seen this episode. All the good characters are leaving the show,” you answered, a pout on your lips as you shifted to glance at him.

He smiled, a barely there quirk of his lips, and shook his head before he stood from beside the couch and offered you his hand. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air. Give you time to process those feelings before you start another episode,” he teased, a grin on his lips as he watched you lift Duke and place him back onto the blanket as soon as you were out from under it.

“I don’t want to keep watching but I’m too invested in the story to stop now,” you mumbled, your voice muffled as you wrapped your arm around Calum’s and leaned into his side.

“You want me to hate watch it with you? I’ve been told my commentary’s excellent.”

“Your commentary is excellent, when it’s directed at the boys and not my television shows. Only I’m allowed to make fun of how bad it is. Deep down, I still love it,” you defended, a laugh leaving your lips as you followed Calum out into the backyard. He stopped, right by the door, and it took you a moment longer than it should have to notice. But when you finally lifted your head, confused as to why he’d paused before you made it to the swing, you were awed by what you saw.

The backyard had been transformed. Calum’s laptop sat on the table near the swing, a Zoom call open with the boys and family - both yours and his -, and beside it sat a box from your favorite bakery. There were balloons and string lights and shiny black and gold confetti littering the area and it brought tears to your eyes as you took in the amount of work Calum had done to give you some kind of celebration.

“It’s not the same, I know,” he began, gently tugging you closer to the setup, “but you deserve a celebration. You worked hard for your degree and I’m sorry you don’t get a traditional ceremony but we’re all really proud of you. Is this okay?”

It was hard to answer his question with the tears threatening to spill so you nodded and threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice low as you tried to fight your emotions, and Calum nodded his acknowledgement as he gave you a smile.

Although it wasn’t the traditional ceremony, far from it, the graduation that you got was one that you knew you’d never forget. Your families didn’t stay long, only long enough to watch Calum hand you a rolled up piece of paper with a wide grin and for you to toss your cap into the air after turning your tassel, but the boys and their respective girls - and Mali - stuck around after to celebrate.

“We’re all really proud of you,” Ashton commented, a smile on his lips as he watched the others nod their agreement. “You’ve worked really hard and this isn’t the party we wanted to throw you but it’ll have to do for now. It was really inspiring to watch you put your all into getting your degree and all of your hard work has paid off.  I’m excited to see what you do next because I know it’s going to be amazing. Congratulations!”

“When we’re allowed to see each other again, we’ll do something fun,” Michael agreed, “but for now, just know that we knew you’d get your degree and put us dropouts to shame.” Michael’s comment was teasing, he had a grin on his lips as he raised his drink in a toast, and Calum muttered a faux-offended ‘hey!’ by your side. “Seriously, we’re really proud of you and happy for you. Congratulations!”

“I don’t know what I can say that they haven’t already said,” Luke laughed, “but it’s worth repeating that this is an accomplishment and we’re really proud of you. You did it! You graduated college! I’m not going to ask what your plans are now because no one has any plans right now but I know that whatever you do next, you’ll do it just as well. Congratulations!”

You leaned into Calum’s side, a wide smile on your lips, as you watched them all toast to your graduation. It was surreal, celebrating such an event via video call, but you were grateful for your friends as they all shared stories and jokes with the goal of making you laugh in mind. You spent nearly two hours chatting with them, your mood lifting significantly, before it came time to end the call.

When the last person was gone, Calum turned to you and offered a sincere smile. “I hope that made missing graduation at least a little easier. I know it was hard on you but you achieved something amazing and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, your heart light for the first time in weeks. “I was really upset about having to miss the ceremony but I think this more than makes up for it. Except I’ll be really glad to get my actual diploma, not a-“ you paused, taking a quick glance at the paper Calum had used, “oh my god, Cal! Not an instruction booklet that came with your awful wifi router.”

“Hey, it was the only paper I could find,” he defended, laughing just as hard as you as he realized what he’d handed you in lieu of your diploma. “But I’m glad this was a suitable stand-in. Michael was joking but it really is impressive. I dropped out of high school and here you are, getting your degree. You never let anything get in the way of achieving your goal and I’m really proud of you for working so hard.”

“I love you, you know that?”

“I do,” Calum nodded, a soft smile on his lips as you leaned in closer to him, “and I love you, too. Congratulations, love.”

In the end, you never could’ve predicted your graduation would end up turning out this way but the love and support from your friends and family, and from Calum, made your nontraditional graduation one that you would never forget.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Yesterday should’ve been my graduation day. I technically did receive my MA but there was no ceremony. Even though I’ve already experienced one college graduation, having to miss this one hit me really hard and I spent yesterday in a bit of a funk. But, as I said, I’ve already had one college graduation so I consider myself lucky. To the class of 2020 experiencing their first graduation, I’m really sorry things didn’t turn out the way you were expecting. Just know that everyone is incredibly proud of you and it’s okay to be sad that you didn’t get a ceremony. I hope this is at least a little comforting. This isn’t the best but my mental health has been on the decline, as has my writing. I, of course, don’t mean to make light of the situation. I understand why graduations were cancelled,  I really do. But I still felt a loss and know that I’m not alone. So, to the class of 2020, congratulations and good luck on your future endeavors. I believe in you!

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!) : @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985, @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @mindkaleidoscope​ , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​ , @thesubtweeter​

[starrynite7114]

Everything is you: fights

A/N: Good afternoon everyone! Wanted to share this lovely update with you all before I go to bed. I have class in 5 hours and work in 7 hours. Yes, I am insane, but I still wanted to give you all of this as it has been sitting on my google docs. Work has me going crazy along with school, please bare with me. I’m excited for this short as this delves further into their background!

Enjoy! All of you are just so kind to me, I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I love you all so much!

everything is you

Word count: 7028

Warnings: Angst, Fluffy

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @thewarriorprincessxo : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life :  @onmyspookysblock : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon  : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @un-poetryy : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @aquamento : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen : @60shannon : @deeandbobbymcgee : @rebel-without-cause-x​ 

Angel and Alena had plenty of fights throughout the years.

But the first fight they had, Angel always teased her how dumb it was. And he also stated it was more jealousy than anything. 

Angel was able to drive during his senior year of high school, which made everything so much easier. He got a beat up car but he didn’t care, it got him from point a time point b. 

“Angel, I’ll just take my umbrella.” Alena argued when he dropped her off. He was playing hooky today, but he still dropped Alena and EZ off. It wasn’t raining yet, but it was predicted later today.

“No, I told you I’m gonna come pick you up. They said it won’t rain till four, so you’re good. I’ll be here to pick you up at 3.” Angel ruffled her hair while EZ waited outside with Carla. 

“Okay,” she grabbed her bag and before she could leave, Angel stopped her. “What’s up?”

“Happy birthday, I’ll see you later.”

Alena beamed up at him and said thank you before slipping out of his car. Her crush was ridiculous and she had to push it away. Angel would never be interested, he bad Monica.

“Happy birthday best friend!” Carla greeted her, wrapping her into an embrace. 

“Look at that blush, did Angel kiss you?” EZ teased.

Carla, Alena and EZ were the three musketeers. They shared things with one another especially after Carla came into their group. And since they did, EZ knew about her horrible crush on his brother.

“Shut up.” Alena pushed him. 

They made their way to homeroom which Alena and Carla had together.

Alena couldn’t wait till the end of the day. Angel promised to give her her birthday present at the end of the day. She didn’t care what it was, everything Angel gave her was something she cherished.

Her mother also had a big dinner planned.

Her father wasn’t home, he was in Korea, but she didn’t mind. A celebration usually meant her father got drunk and those situations were not fun.

Alena pulled her jacket closer together as she walked home from school. It was four and Angel never showed up. 

EZ had baseball practice, which she sure was canceled. Carla went home early since she had a dentist appointment. Instead, Alena walked home alone, in the pouring rain.

She knew she should have taken her umbrella. 

Now, she was going to be sick and that was never fun.

When she made it home, her mother scolded her endlessly about how she shouldn’t have left her umbrella in Angel’s car. It wasn’t like Angel to not text her if he wasn’t going to be able to make it.

But two hours later and after the scolding stopped, Angel was apologizing profusely, telling her was on his way to her house. He was with Monica and the time passed, he didn’t even notice that it was as late as it was. 

She didn’t want to see him though. She felt irrational for being upset, for being jealous since Angel forgot her on her special day, but she was hardly irrational and she had the right to be mad, even for just a day. 

‘It’s okay. We finished dinner and I have homework, you don’t have to come.’

She took off her glasses, placing it on her bedside drawer. She already finished all her work during school in anticipation for her birthday celebration. She still had fun with her mother and brother. Felipe, Marisol and EZ came by to have some cake, but otherwise, Alena went to her room to do homework, even though it was all done.

Angel

‘Come on cielo, I’m sorry. I’m almost there.’

She sighed, replying quickly.

‘It’s okay, I’m going to sleep. Good night.’

Alena closed her eyes, hugging her pillow letting sleep takeover.

Angel sighed, parking his car in front of his home. It was midnight and he lied, telling his parents he had an extra shift at the grocery store. But he didn’t. He also didn’t tell his parents that he skipped school to fuck around with Monica.

He fell asleep after they had sex and the next thing he knew, it was eight in the evening and he missed Alena’s dinner, he didn’t pick her up.

Walking in the house, he was startled when the light turned on. He looked over and it was EZ.

“The fuck are you doing sitting in the dark?” Angel covered his eyes since EZ shone the lamp on him.

“Did you know Alena walked home in the rain?” EZ wasn’t holding back. He got it, Angel had a girlfriend, but it was Alena’s birthday. 

“I don’t need this shit right now. I fucked up, my bad. I’ll make it up to her.” Angel brushed it off. It was the only thought that was keeping him from knocking on Alena’s window.

“You know how easy she gets sick, you should have just left her umbrella with her.” EZ stood up for where he was sitting, shaking his head. 

Angel opened his mouth to say something, but EZ’s next words surprised him.

“Bryan said he’ll take Alena to school now. It’ll just be you, me and Carla.”

“Why?” It was the only thing Angel could muster to say.

EZ shrugged. “He said Alena requested for him to bring her to school.”

Alena couldn’t be upset for him for long, he was confident at that.

But Alena was upset at him. 

The most irritating part, she spoke to him, was very pleasant, but she didn’t let him back in. It was like back to the beginning for them.

This went on for about a month and by Thanksgiving he was back in Alena’s good graces.

But just before winter break, it all fell apart again.

Alena held the Tupperware of cookies she made for Angel and his teammates. They were very nice to her and she always tried to bring them some homemade pastries to lighten up their spirits after practice. 

It was five in the afternoon which meant practice was done. The boys should be showered and ready to go. She waited by the end of the field, where she usually waited for Angel. She saw them by the entrance of the field and just waited by the end since they looked like they were having a bit of fun with Angel.

“I’m glad your shadow is back Angel, she makes good ass baked goods.” One of his teammates teased him.

“Yeah, if only she mixed it with some kush, we would be golden.”

Angel shook his head at his teammates, laughing along.

“Thought you would want her to stay away from you, didn’t you say you were getting annoyed by her constantly following you around?” 

Alena froze when she heard that. 

There’s no way.

“Yeah, but you know, my mom wants me to look after her. Once I graduate, she’ll be out of my hair.” Angel didn’t mean that, sort of. There were times Alena annoyed him, especially when he wanted to be alone with his friends and Monica, but those thoughts faded rather quickly. “She’ll be Ezekiel’s problem then.”

“Just leave her stranded again, maybe she’ll stop talking to you then.”

“Or you know, you can tell her that you’ll never have feelings for her, especially when you have a beauty like Monica.”

Angel frowned at that, but he just laughed along with them. 

Popularity was a bitch.

Alena couldn’t stop the tears that fell from her eyes. She turned and she ran into one of Angel’s teammates, Rico.

“Hey, Alena, what are you doing here?” He saw the tears in her eyes. “Are you crying?”

“Yeah, sorry allergies.” Alena quickly wiped them and smiled up at him.

He wasn’t stupid, he was right behind Alena hearing everything Angel and his other teammates said. 

“Alena.” Rico sighed.

“Sorry, can you just give this to Angel and the guys? I don’t want it to go to waste. Thank you. Have a good break.” Alena smiled at him again and walked away quickly. 

She was thankful her brother waited for her, especially since they were headed to LA to spend winter break there. When she got inside the comforts of her brother’s car, the tears fell freely then.

“Lena? What’s wrong?” Bryan frowned.

“Nothing, sorry. Can we please leave?”

Bryan wanted to argue, but he didn’t want Alena to be worked up. 

Everything changed from there.

Angel attempted to contact her throughout the winter break. 

No answer.

EZ didn’t even have an answer for him.

Then he didn’t see her at school.

No matter how hard he tried to make their paths cross, it never happened. 

Football season had him busy along with the senior activities with his friends and Monica. Next thing he knew, he was graduating and headed for college.

But something was missing.

On the day of graduation, he and Monica broke up, since she was going to Cal State L.A. and Alena’s absence took a toll on their relationship. Monica was never bitter, but even she noticed Angel wasn’t the same after Alena disappeared on him.

Angel wasn’t even sure why he didn’t think of this sooner, but Angel found himself outside of Alena’s window. He peered inside and saw Alena moving around in her room. The window was opened since her parents didn’t believe in turning the AC on until nine in the evening.

He climbed through the window, startling Alena. 

“Angel, what are you doing here?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me, so here I am.” Angel knew what happened. Rico made sure he knew that he fucked up and broke Alena’s heart. Seeing her now, he didn’t realize just how much he missed her.

“My mom said she spoke to your mom. You are relieved of your duties.” Alena managed to smile, something she perfected while her father criticized her, to try and better her. Through hurtful words, she managed to smile and persevere, it’s what kept her sane. “If I was such a burden to you, all you had to do was tell me, I wouldn’t have held it against you because at least I heard it from you.” 

Angel remembered that talk. It was part of the reason he didn’t try to pursue Alena when she was at home. Her father was home much more often and his mother advised him to give her time as Alena was under the impression he spoke to her out of obligation. 

Angel sighed. “Fuck, I missed you.” He was drinking her in, realizing he hasn’t been in the same room as her since that day before winter break last year.

“What?” Alena looked up at Angel. She missed him too, but she didn’t want to tell him that.

“I missed you, Alena. You haven’t spoken to me in six months.” Angel took a step towards her, but she backed away. He didn’t want to frighten her, so he didn’t move and stayed in place. 

“Yes, and that’s what you wanted. I’m no longer burdening you with taking care of me.” Alena continued to pack like what she was doing prior to Angel coming in.

“What are you doing?” He noticed the clothes all over her bed then.

“I’m packing.”

“Why?” He slightly panicked but tried his best to not show it.

“My brother and I are going to Korea with my mom for the summer.” Alena didn’t have to explain anything to him, but she didn’t want to be rude.

“What? How long will you be gone?”

“2 months.”

“You’re coming back right?”

“I don’t see why that would matter to you?”

“How the fuck can you even say that to me?”

“Look, I told you, you’ve been relieved from your duties. You don’t have to apologize or do anything to make it up to me, we’re good.” She smiled at him. “We had a good few years even though you befriended at your mother’s behest. Thank you for being my friend.”

Angel wanted to shake her, he was frustrated to say the least.

“Are you kidding? Alena, I fucking get it, what I said was fucked up, but I didn’t mean it. I was an asshole, but you know you’re my friend and I didn’t befriend you for my mom.” He was certain it wouldn’t even make a dent with Alena.

“Can you leave? I don’t want my father to come in and catch you.”

“You got me fucked up if you think we’re done.”

Alena didn’t say anything and just watched Angel leave through her window. It was endearing that he was trying now, but she made up her mind.

===============

Angel was outside sitting down at their porch, waiting for the Kim’s to come back. He heard the door open, but kept his eyes at their house, he felt that if he even looked away once, she would appear and he would miss her.

To say he’s been antsy the past two months would be an understatement. Ezekiel spoke to her through some messaging app. But otherwise, he mostly saw his mother speaking to her mother from time to time.

He tried messaging her, but she literally ignored his messages.

“You doing okay son?” He heard his father ask.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good pops.” Angel looked over at his father quickly before looking back to the house again.

“They’re supposed to have dinner at our place tonight Angel, you can see her then.” Watching Angel going through the motions have been painful for Marisol and Felipe. It was okay when she was ignoring him, but he could still see her. This? This was different. Angel worked at the carniceria often to keep himself distracted. Angel was slated to start practice soon at UCSD, after getting a scholarship to play football.

“I just want to make sure they arrived safely.” Angel replied, not going to be dissuaded regarding waiting for her.

Felipe smiled. His son was in love and he wasn’t even aware of it yet. “Okay, well, your mother needs you to run to the store once they arrive.”

“Sure thing pops.”

Felipe patted his back before going inside. Angel saw Bryan’s car pull up in front of their house then. He immediately stood up and made his way over. He watched as Michelle and Bryan exited the car. He waited for one of the back passenger doors to open but they didn’t.

“Reyes, you’re up early.” 

It was nine in the morning and a Saturday. He usually wasn’t up till noon.

“Yeah, worked out this morning.” A lie. “How was your trip?”

“Good, too fucking hot, but what’s new.” Bryan chuckled.

“Angel, my favorite Reyes!” 

Angel chuckled, making his way over to Michelle, giving her a hug. 

She placed her hands on his cheeks, pinching both of them. “Look at you! Too skinny, your mom and I have to fatten you up.”

Angel laughed at that. She definitely missed her.

“Where’s Alena?”

Michelle pursed her lips while Bryan kept quiet as he took their stuff out. 

“Is she coming later?” He was getting nervous. They were looking anywhere but him.

“My sister didn’t tell you I’m guessing.” Bryan shut his trunk. “My sister moved to San Diego with our father. She switched schools and is going to attend the private school my father has been asking her to attend.”

Angel laughed. “Quit playing, is she in the back seat?”

“Just go inside umma.” Bryan walked over to Angel, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, my mom doesn’t know you and Alena fell out, well at least the extent of it, but I do. I get it, you’re a high school football star who had to look cool in front of his friends. My sister doesn’t need that in her life. She’s very unsure of her place already and the last thing she needs is someone who pretends to be her savior when he’s not. My sister isn’t as fragile as you think. Thank you for taking care of my sister, but you’re good now.” Bryan picked up their luggage and turned to Angel one last time. “Stay away from my sister.”

Angel watched as Bryan brought their stuff inside. This wasn’t possible. Alena wouldn’t leave him like this. It’s always been them. He didn’t give a fuck if they were young, but they valued their friendship. He fucked up, he knew that, but she had to give him a chance to make it up to her.

He stood by his word, they weren’t done. 

Far from it.

When he finally broke Ezekiel down, he went to her school after his class. He waited anxiously to see her. He hasn’t seen her for four months. He even brought her favorite Starbucks drink since it was hot. He heard her laugh before he saw her.

When he looked up, he saw Alena and she was with a guy. He was at least his height, of asian descent. He had his arm around her, playfully teasing her. He saw that familiar blush on her cheeks and he felt his heart clench.

His Alena had a boyfriend.

Alena looked up and saw Angel. Her smile dropped and she stepped away from Nick.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She could see how tense Angel’s shoulder looked. 

“Sure, same cafe?”

“Yes.” She smiled up at him.

Nick hugged her and she hugged him back. Once he was out of sight, she made her way to Angel.

“So what, you replaced me now?” Angel immediately spat out, not able to control himself.

“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.

Angel groaned. “Don’t do that, I can’t be mad at you when you’re looking cute.” He held the drink out. “Here, I got your favorite with soy milk.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” Alena took the drink. 

“I know, but I wanted to.” He looked around and whistled. “Nice school.”

“Yeah, it is.” She looked down at her shoes, holding her drink. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Angel shoved his hands in his pocket. “Can we talk?”

“Um, I have swimming practice.”

“I can wait for you, I finished my last class two hours ago.” 

Alena was hesitant and Angel could see that.

“Alena, please, I just want to speak to you.” Angel pleaded. “I miss you.”

“Okay.” 

Alena came out of her practice, her coach stepping out with her. Angel stood up from where he was sitting outside the pool area. He noticed how close Alena was with her coach. He remembered that he’s been helping Alena out since she was twelve. Her father had it set out for her that she could swim for the Olympic team. Alena has won a few competitions statewide and nationwide, but he knew Alena didn’t want to do it. 

It made her antsy.

“Angel, nice to see you again!” Coach Henderson waved at him.

“You too coach!” Angel waved. 

Alena smiled and thanked him, walking over to Angel. 

“Is your dad in town?”

“No, he’s in Korea for the next five months. My brother is staying with me.” She explained. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you hungry? Let’s go eat.” Angel offered as they walked towards the entrance of the school.

“I’m not really hungry.” She was famished, but the last thing she wanted to do was spend time with Angel. There was no point on continuing, she knew Angel was making the effort cause he felt bad.

“Come on Alena, I’m trying here. I know you’re upset, but I really do want to be here for you.” Angel didn’t know what he could do to appease Alena. She moved out of Santo Padre to technically get away from him, but he ended up moving to San Diego.

“You don’t have to try. I’m no longer following you around, you have other people to busy your time with. Please just leave me alone.”

“Not going to happen.”

“Listen, you left me alone for almost a year, let’s not break that streak.”

“Alena, please, what do I have to do to get back in your good graces?”

“Nothing, we’re fine Angel. You’re scot free.”

Angel shook his head. “No, we’re not fine. You can’t even look at me.”

“Alena.” Angel and Alena looked over at the entrance of the school and found Bryan there. Alena quickly walked over to her brother, who was staring down at Angel.

“Thought I told you to stay away Reyes.” Bryan offered his hand to Alena and she gave her backpack to him.

“You can go fuck yourself Bryan.” 

Bryan chuckled and looked over at his younger sister. “Told you he would come looking for you.”

“It’s fine, he’ll stop.”

Bryan shook his head. His baby sister could be so naive.

For the next two months, Angel came to see Alena after school and waited for her after practice. She would be polite and talk to him, but she never stayed with him for longer than fifteen minutes. Angel didn’t want to force her and went with whatever she offered him. On her birthday, he brought her a Red Velvet cupcake, which was her favorite.

===============

“Oh, I got you something else too.” Angel took a bag from his backpack, handing it to Alena. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Yeah, you always tell me that, yet I never listen.”

Alena smiled, looking down at the bag in her hands. She took out the paper and reached inside the bag. Pulling out the contents, she gave him a questioning look.

“Just open it cielo.” He urged.

Alena opened the box and was happily surprised at what was inside. It was a jewelry box. It was pale blue, a smooth wooden texture.

“I made it, figured you need a jewelry box to keep all those charms Nick gets you.” Angel couldn’t help the disdain in his voice. But every week, Alena had a different charm on her bracelet from Nicholas. It was annoying.

“I do need a jewelry box, thank you Angel.” She was in awe, inspecting every crevice. “This is beautiful, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I made it. I found it while my mom was thrift shopping, figured I could restore it.” Angel shrugged, slightly nervous, not knowing if Alena would like his gift.

“Thanks Angel.” Alena’s eyes softened and Angel was so relieved. That smile on her face made his heart beat faster and he felt so relieved.

“Is Nick your boyfriend?”

Angel’s question surprised Alena and she placed the jewelry box back inside the box. 

“No, he’s just my friend.” Alena stood up, their fifteen minutes were up. 

“Cielo, it’s your birthday, can I at least take you out? I know Bryan is working late and your mom is in Korea.”

“No, it’s okay, I would just like to go home.” Alena put her backpack on. “Thank you again Angel. We’re more than even now. You made it up for my birthday last year. We’re good.”

She began to walk away, but Angel followed after her.

“The fuck you mean we’re good?” He softly grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. “You think doing this out of guilt? Alena, it’s your birthday, I’ve been trying to make it up to you not only because I feel guilty, I miss my friend.”

“We were never friends.” 

Alena’s words wounded Angel and he let go of her arm. That’s all it took. Alena walked away and was happy to not hear any footsteps after her. She was relieved to see Nick outside, waiting for her with a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey, happy birthday.” Nick greeted her, offering the bouquet to her. “I had Mr. Choi drive me here after violin practice.” He looked beyond Alena and saw Angel was making their way towards them. “Your friend is coming.”

“He isn’t my friend. Let’s go.” Nick opened the door, Alena slipped in and he slipped in behind her. Alena watched as Angel stopped by the entrance of the school, the hurt and anger evident on his face.

He would give up on her now. He had to.

===============

That was a month ago and Alena hasn’t seen Angel since. No text messages, no calls, no emails, nothing. She was relieved since she didn’t want to keep seeing him. It wasn’t that she hated Angel, she just didn’t want to be hurt by him again.

She was texting Carla about their plans this weekend since she was coming over for the weekend. She was so excited to do something with Carla since she felt as if she hadn't seen her for quite some time. 

There was no swimming practice for a month since Coach Henderson was out of the country. It worked out for her since she just wanted a break. Her father has extended his stay in Korea and she honestly couldn’t be more happier. 

“I think I’m gonna get some yogurt and some chicken for dinner.” Alena smiled to herself, liking her plan for the night. Bryan was working later again, so she figured she could cook something up for him while enjoying her chicken.

“Talking to yourself mi cielo?”

She heard him, she did, but she continued to walk pretending she didn���t. They were done. Angel wasn’t supposed to come back.

“You can keep walking and I’ll just follow. You know I don’t mind talking while you walk silently.” 

Alena looked at her phone and knew that Nick was at violin practice. She did not like this one bit. Okay, maybe she did. The butterflies in her stomach were going wild knowing Angel was here. But she had to remain strong. She couldn’t exactly be with Angel.

Her father arranged for her to marry Nick.

It was the reason she went to Korea during the summer.

She was thankful Nick was kind, so it wouldn’t be difficult to marry him.

She wanted to argue with her father, say she would never marry Nick.

But she would never marry Angel.

She still had time to meet someone, but at times, it was better to accept your fate.

“Come on cielo, you can’t ignore me forever.” Angel followed after her.

Her words hurt him and he was mad for about two weeks, but midterms were a bitch so he focused on that, leaving Alena to her own devices. Maybe she’ll learn to appreciate him more.

Alena didn’t reply and continued to walk to her favorite Korean fried chicken place. She walked in the restaurant and Angel stayed behind, placing a cigarette stick on his mouth to relieve his stress. He didn’t know what to do with Alena, she usually spoke to him by now, but it’s been almost a year.

When Alena walked back out, Angel threw the cigarette butt down and walked after her.

“How was your birthday dinner with Nicholas?” Angel hated that guy. He looked so fucking boring.

Alena chose to not reply, deciding to skip on the yogurt. Angel didn’t know where her father lived and she preferred to keep it that way. She stopped walking and turned to face Angel.

He stopped, making sure he didn’t bump into her.

“Look, I told you, we’re not friends. You don’t have to come see me. If I see you during the holidays, cool, but otherwise, let’s just keep our distance.” Alena glared at Angel when this obnoxious smirk appeared on his face.

“I’m not leaving you alone. And we are friends, best friends even. I get why you’re upset, and I’m sorry. Just let me back in Alena.” Angel hated this distance between them. Alena was his best friend even though she considered Carla hers. 

Alena wasn’t sure what to say to Angel. She wanted to talk to him and she could tell he was sorry, but she knew remaining friends with him would be hard on her. She was slated to marry in five years when she was twenty-one years old. Getting out of this arrangement did not seem to be a possibility and again, Nick was kind and they got on well.

“I’m getting married, Angel and I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to continue talking out of respect for my fiance.”

“Excuse me what?” Angel wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly, but there was no mistaking that. She was getting married? To fucking who? 

“You heard me, I’m not going to repeat what I just said. But again, we weren’t friends, let’s just keep it the way it is. We can be civil, but it’s best for us to keep it this way.” Alena watched as Angel’s face fell. It hurt her and she wanted to reach out to him, to embrace him, but she refrained. He was the one person who understood her and was always there for her. Now, he would be a distant memory. “Goodbye Angel.”

She turned around to walk away, but his voice stopped her.

“To who?”

“I’m engaged to Nick.”

Angel sat on that for two days. Then he came to a conclusion that he couldn’t let her father control her life in that way.

So he came back and pestered her till finally just before her Thanksgiving break, Alena broke down and let Angel back in.

“I don’t understand why won’t you just leave me alone.” She made her way down the street towards Angel’s car.

Angel took her backpack from her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “There’s no option where I leave you alone, so, better get used to it.”

But Angel wasn’t always the perpetrator when they fought. 

The first time Alena upset Angel it was due to Nick. She was twenty-two and Angel was twenty-five. He hasn’t forgotten about it, to this day, he still teased her about it, which now he understood why she hid the fact he was her ophthalmologist.

Angel has been waiting for Alena since they had plans for dinner that night. He knew it was going to be a late dinner since she had class till seven. Coco was seated beside him, awaiting Alena’s arrival too.

Alena failed to mention that Nick was dropping her off, on his bike, the one thing Alena wouldn’t do with Angel. He’s been trying to convince her to ride along with him on his bike, especially since his hermano was more confident with his riding now. But Alena always declined. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he knew Angel was going to be pissed.

Which was why he, Riz and Creeper had a bet going around. He chose that Angel would be pissed and refused to talk to Alena. Riz believed Angel would just let it slide, especially since it seemed Angel’s bond with Alena was far deeper than some childish shit as riding a motorcycle. Creeper chose the option of Angel would at least punch Nick since everyone knew of his temper and protectiveness over Alena.

They heard a motorcycle coming, but it never made its way inside. Coco looked at Angel as they both stood up. They walked over outside the gate and found a motorcycle coming down the pathway. It wasn’t a Mayan, that was for sure, the rev of the motorcycle sounded different. The motorcycle stopped right before the gate, the rider got off the bike, helping his companion off as well.

The rider helped their companion with their helmet and Coco immediately grabbed Angel, knowing his brother isn’t going to be happy. 

They watched as the rider took off his helmet and it was Nick. Alena laughed, covering her mouth and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you for the ride.” She beamed up at him.

“I’ve always wanted to see Santo Padre.” Nick shrugged. “It’s not so bad, just a little warm.”

“It can get cold during the winter.”

“I’m sure it can.” He chuckled, the nervousness he felt all day came back. Placing his helmet on his bike, he stuffed his pockets inside his jacket. “Thanks for helping me with Physics.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” She waved it off.

“Alena,” Nick and Alena looked at one another before they both laughed. “You’re making me nervous.”

“What? Nervous why?” Alena looked over to the clubhouse gate and no one was there, thank god, since she didn’t want Angel to see her being brought by a motorcycle. He always pestered her about riding with him, but she never could. Being that close to Angel was painful. 

“Fuck, listen, I didn’t expect for this to happen, but the more time we spend together, the more I find myself falling for you.” Nick looked into Alena’s eyes, her glasses made her eyes more doe eyed. “I know we were engaged at the behest of our parents, but I like you Alena, I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Coco and Angel came out of the yard again, wondering what was taking Alena so long. Coco wished they stayed by the clubhouse now. They watched as Nick leaned down and kissed Alena.

Angel felt his heart clench as he watched Alena let Nick kiss her. He turned around, leaving Coco by the gate. First of all, Alena actually rides with this motherfucker and second, she let him miss her? The fuck was that.

“Alena.” Coco called out.

Alena pulled away and looked like a deer caught in headlights. Nick bit his lip and chuckled, waving a hello to Coco. He nodded his head back and waited for Alena to come walk over to him.

“Um,” Alena bit her lower lip and sighed. “I’m so sorry Nick.”

“It’s okay,” Nick looked down, not surprised by her rejection. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Nick,” Alena began.

“No, I know, but Angel doesn’t know what he has and I doubt he’ll confess to you. He’s not the only person in this world, you have to eventually let someone in.” Nick kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you next week.”

Alena smiled and nodded her head. She walked over to Coco, who had this shit eating grin.

“I would like to thank you for winning me forty dollars Hermana.” Coco chuckled. “Also, heads up, Angel’s pissed.”

“Was I late? Did I miss a call?” She looked at her cell phone and it was nine in the evening. She told him she was going to be late and text him that she was on his way around eight. 

“No, more like you brought a boy.”

Alena’s eyebrows furrowed at that. “What’s wrong with that?”

They made it to the group outside the clubhouse, hanging around the bonfire. Angel was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello,” Alena waved at everyone. “Where’s Angel?”

“Dorm.” Creeper replied.

Alena went inside the clubhouse and quickly greeted Hank, Taza and Bishop along with Gilly who was manning the bar. She made her way to the back and found Angel just watching television in his dorm. When he saw her he immediately looked away and she closed the door behind her. 

“Hey Angel,” she greeted him cautiously.

“I really don’t want to talk right now Alena.” 

The tone of his voice made her frown and nervous. Angel has never been upset at her before.

“Why are you mad at me?” Alena took a step towards him and Angel held his hand up.

“Leave Alena, I don’t want to see or talk to you.” Angel refused to look at her because he knew he would break if he did.

“Okay, sorry.” She didn’t want to push Angel. It was his first time being upset at her and the last thing she wanted to do was upset him further. She didn’t think he would hurt her, but she never pushed when other people were upset at her. They most likely had every right to be upset at her.

Alena walked out and she tried to not cry. She hated crying, it made her feel weak and fragile, like how everyone saw her.

“Princesa, where are you going?” Bishop questioned as she walked by them.

“Going home! My mom called, you know her.” The way she was able to mask her emotions, she was proud of herself. She waved at them and exited the clubhouse.

Making her way to Coco, she quickly said goodbye and he frowned. He called after her but Alena already made her way out of the clubhouse gate. Angel came out of the clubhouse in a hurry, realizing his mistake as soon as she walked out of his room. He heard how deflated she sounded and his heart couldn’t take that. 

He was being irrational and jealous. Never in his life had he seen Alena kiss someone else besides him and he wanted to fucking keep it that way. Alena told him she wanted to have a child for him one day and she may have been wasted, but ever since then, he knew she would be his eventually.

“What the fuck did you do?” Coco had stood up then, with plans to go after Alena, but Angel’s appearance halted his moves.

“Shut up.” Angel walked past Coco and right out of the gate. He walked to the front of the yard and could not find Alena. “Fuck!” 

Angel ran back inside and got on his motorcycle, driving quickly out of the yard. Alena’s mom wasn’t home and Bryan was in Los Angeles, where would Alena go? And she couldn’t have walked that quickly. 

Driving down towards her mother’s new house, he found Alena walking, trying her best to walk fast since her mother’s home was about a fifteen minute walk from the scrapyard.

He parked at the side of the road and got off, jogging after her.

“Cielo,” he called out. 

Alena stopped walking and turned around. “Hey,” she wiped her face and smiled at him. “What are you doing?” Her tears were always so painful for Angel. He hated to see her cry. 

Angel wasn’t exactly sure why, but he cupped her face and kissed her, surprising Alena as well. She closed her eyes and returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Eventually, Angel pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, both trying to catch their breath. Alena kept her eyes closed as Angel opened his, watching as she took a deep breath. Angel kissed her again and Alena immediately responded.

She didn’t feel this with Nick. The butterflies, the breathtaking aspect of it, the way her leg lifted just like Princess Diaries, only Angel did this for her.

“I want you,” Angel said against her lips.

“Me too, but I’m hungry.”

Angel laughed. “Come on cielo, I’ll make you some food then I can eat what I want.”

“Angel!”

PRESENT DAY

Angel took the mail out of the mailbox, balancing the mail in his hand with the flowers and chocolate he got Alena. He was currently in the doghouse since Angel upset Alena about his insistence that she stopped working with Victor. While he was being unreasonable, he just didn’t fucking like Victor.

Opening the door, he found Cruz sound asleep on the couch, his head on Alena’s lap. Placing the mail, flowers and chocolate down, he picked up Cruz and placed him on his bed. He came back out and picked up Alena, placing her on their bed. His favorite thing to come home to was finding Alena and Cruz asleep. Just knowing he got to come home to them after a hard day, that was all he wanted.

He placed the flowers inside a vase and the chocolate in the fridge. He picked up the mail to sort them out and one stuck out to him. It looked like an invitation with his and Alena’s name on it. 

Curiously, he opened it and he just had to let out a cackle.

“This motherfucker is getting married.” The invitation was for Nick’s wedding. Angel wouldn’t say he was still worried about Alena’s childhood friend, but he felt that he was the one that got away for Alena. Though Alena never returned his advances except the one time he kissed her, Angel was still worried.

And to know he was her ophthalmologist? It made it worse for him. He felt like if he made the wrong move, Nick would sweep in.

It was irrational, but he had his insecurities too. He just tried to remain confident because if he didn’t, he would lose his mind. Making his way to their bedroom, he couldn’t resist waking up Alena.

He placed the invitation on the bed and crawled over to Alena, shaking her awake.

“Cielo,” he softly called out.

Alena turned towards him, opened her eyes and yawned. “Hi, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know baby, and I’m sorry.” Angel kissed the back of her hand as he laid down next to her. “I love you.”

“Don’t try to be cute.” She smiled, teasing him.

“I told you, I’m sexy not cute.” Angel kissed her. “So, we got something in the mail.”

“Yeah? What is it?” She closed her eyes, hoping Angel would let her sleep some more. 

“Nick sent us an invite to his wedding.” Angel waited for her reaction and he definitely didn’t get it.

“Okay, with Shelby?” Alena opened her eyes, looking at Angel and awaiting a reply.

“Yes, how’d you know?”

Alena shrugged. “They’ve been on and off for years. Glad they finally decided to tie the knot.”

“Alena, wake up, do you not care?” Angel knew the questioned seemed idiotic, but he was curious.

“No, do you?” She closed her eyes again. “Babe, Nick is an old friend and that’s that. We can attend his wedding if you want to, but otherwise, no skin off my back.”

“Alena,”

“Ssh,” Alena cut him off, placing her hand on his lips. “Cud-cud time.” It was what Cruz said whenever he wanted to cuddle, which was something Alena picked up.

Angel laughed and wrapped his arms around Alena, her breathing evened out quite quickly.

He’s had his fair share of fights with Alena, he was just happy it was never too bad that she fully walked away. She almost did, but he would never give up on her.

She was everything to him. 

[malumsmermaid]

Summer Days

Part of the 5SOS writer collab headed up by @h0tsos​ and @maluminspace​

Based on the prompt “I don’t know if you noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”

Camp Counselors Malum

Writing Collab Masterlist

Warnings: None! All Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

After a semester of student teaching for one of their college courses, it was time for summer, and Calum and Michael had decided to stay in town and hold down the apartment for their other two roommates who were electing to go home. Once finals had wrapped up and they said goodbye to the classes they’d been working with they began looking for jobs. They were both sitting in bed together when Michael found an available job working a summer day camp. The pair talked about it for a few minutes before applying, assuming playing games and mainly supervising kids would be easier than lesson planning and having to actually teach things. Plus they were excited by the possibility of seeing some of their kids again, so Calum pulled out his laptop and they sat side by side as they applied.

After about two weeks it was clear that this was different. For one thing, due to low staffing, the kids were all split up into three groups instead of one group per grade level. So now, even though Michael and Calum recognized some of the kids in their group, some of those kids who were bearable during the school year now had some slight sibling drama. Then there were the parents, something Michael and Calum had yet to deal with. Half of them were fine, nice people who cared about their kids and were happy to hear about their day during pick up. The other half, however, was a mix of Karens and Beckys, some of them stay at home moms who were just getting the kids out of the house so that they could go have margs with their girl friends and have a spa day to wash away the stress of the thought of them actually being parents. Some of them even had Michael wondering if he should go to the pharmacy and get a second flu shot for that year. 

However, despite some of the parents they had to deal with and the occasional drama, both sibling spats and between groups of friends, Michael and Calum were really enjoying their summer job. They kept up their school year tradition of every other payday one taking the other out for a date night, whether it was as simple as going out to dinner and a movie, or a sunset picnic, or a nice night in the bowling alley. 

It was five weeks in, and even with kids coming and going with the weeks, some just disappearing for a one week vacation, others having other camps to go to, things had steadied. It was a rainy Friday at the start of the Fourth of July weekend, so attendance was low to begin with, some kids leaving early. A few of the kids who were there were upset over swim time being cancelled on account of the thunder, but Calum had run down to the gym, claiming it for their group as a replacement for the hour of swimming. 

Calum gone to set up the games and the crafts set up on the counter to dry until parents came, Michael and the other leader started a round of Heads Up Seven Up to keep things quiet and calm until Calum said he was ready. Finally, Calum radioed down that everything was ready and Michael got all the kids lined up, hovering to the back of the line as they made their way through the rec center to the gym. Once in the gym, the kids all gathered around Calum and he smiled saying, “Ok, since it’s a small group today, we’re doing stations. We’ve got two boxes of four square, two spots for basketball games, and then some jump ropes and hula hoops. I’m gonna put on some music and whenever it stops you have to move to a new station, alright?” The kids all cheered and Calum smiled continuing, “Alright, I’m going to give you each a number and that’s going to be the station you’re starting at, ok?”

Once the kids were all split up into groups and ready to start, Calum made his way over to the radio, pulling up a Kidz Bop only playlist on his phone that was already connected to the AUX jack and hitting play. The two men hovered around each other, eyes on the playing kids. After a few songs Michael hummed, “Can’t wait to go home and make dinner with legitimately any other playlist on.”

Calum smirked, hand coyly reaching up to rub Michael’s back, “Bold of you to assume that I won’t overtake the speaker and put this right back on.”

Michael shot his boyfriend a sharp look, filled with a threat that he couldn’t voice at work. Calum just bit his lip in response, pausing the music before a fifth song could play and calling out “Time to switch!”

They made it through three station changes before one of the kids from Michael’s class earlier that year came running over, “Mr. Michael!!! Come play HORSE with us!!”

Michael gave Calum a wide eyed stare as the other kids in the group came running over, grabbing him by his hands and dragging him over to their half of the basketball court.  He ended up making the first few easy shots, but then one of the kids made a shot from beyond the foul line. Calum could read the anxiety in his boyfriend’s face when it was his turn, silently begging the younger man to change stations early to rescue him. 

Calum, however, remained strong, knowing an army of upset kids was worse than Michael missing the shot. At least, until he watched the blonde’s feet slip out from under him as he shot, toppling backwards onto the floor as the basketball fell to the ground halfway between him and the hoop. 

Calum quickly jogged over, phone left on top of the radio. He helped Michael to his feet, the pair holding on maybe a second or two longer than necessary before Calum pulled away, “Need an ice pack?” he teased lightly as Michael rubbed the back of his head.

“Nah, I think I’ll live,” the blonde returned, smiling as the kids checked on him too. “Besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do, but especially with sports stuff.”

The kids all giggled at Michael’s response and Calum hummed. “Fine, I guess we can swap, then. Mike, you run the music and I’ll play HORSE. We’ve got until the end of this song before they need to switch again.”

Michael gave his boyfriend a teasing salute before going over to the music, tapping the screen to see how long until the song was over. He hummed as he saw texts from their group chat with Luke and Ashton. As soon as the song was over he paused the new one and made the switch stations call. Once the kids were all moving in the same direction, Calum getting pulled into four square, Michael opened the texts, using Calum’s passcode. He skimmed the latest line from Ashton, something about one of his plants. Michael just opened Calum’s camera, pulling the phone super close to his face for a picture. 

Can’t talk, working right now. Plant update t-minus 3 hours. 

As soon as the message sent Michael put the phone back down, watching on as Calum tried to take it easy on the kids, even if none of them returned the favor.  Calum ended up trapped at four square for the rest of the time in the gym, Michael jumping when he realized it was ten minutes past when they were supposed to be having afternoon snack. Calum gathered a kid from each group to help him get everything back in the equipment room, everything going away much quicker than it had come out, and soon enough they were back in the classroom.

Two hours later and there were three kids left out of all the groups, other leaders leaving Calum and Michael to wait with the kids in the game room while they cleaned the classrooms before clocking out. Calum was sitting in one of the chairs in front of a tv, a kid next to him in another chair as they played minecraft. Michael was sitting at the table with the other two kids, signout book by his elbow as he colored with them. Soon enough the two kids with Michael were going home with their stepdad and Michael picked up the crayons and extra sheets of paper. Once they were back in the closet he picked up the binder and meandered over to the xbox station.

Calum let out an exasperated sigh as Michael leaned up against the back of his chair, knocking down a stair block again. “Julien how do you get the stairs to go upside down like that dude?”

“You jus gotta fly over and like, plop a block and then aim for the top.” Julien explained.

“Oh gosh, I keep forgetting that we can fly right now...how do I do that again?”

Michael snorted and Calum spun around, giving him his best puppy eyes as he pouted, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Michael chuckled softly as Calum repeated his earlier statement back to him. He shoved down the temptation to kiss the pout off of Calum’s lips, instead turning to look at Julien, “Are you enjoying explaining how to play Minecraft to Mr. Calum, Julien, or would you like some actual help with your treehouse?”

Julien’s face lit up as he looked up at Michael, “Please??”

Calum just shook his head in defeat, handing the controller over as Michael pulled up another chair, setting the binder in Calum’s lap as he leaned forward, listening as Julien explained his vision for the treehouse project.

Right as Calum was about to call the main office to let them know that there was still one kid at their site, Julien’s mom came running in. They chatted for a minute, Julien excitedly telling his mom about beating Michael at HORSE “because he fell down and Mr. Calum had to take over.”

Once Julien was sure he had all his stuff and they’d cleaned up, Michael and Calum went into the office, signing onto the tablet to log their hours for the day before making their way to the car. As they sat in their seats, Michael queuing up music for the drive home, Calum turned in his seat asking, “Does your head still hurt from knocking against the floor, Mikey?”

Michael hummed, glancing towards his boyfriend and then the ceiling as he pretended to think, “Maybe a little…”

Calum grinned, leaning over, gently pushing Michael’s head so he could smooch the back of it. “Better?” 

Michael smiled, shaking his head no and tapping his cheek next, then his nose, and then his lips, each one following a new kiss from Calum in the previously tapped place. Michael sighed when Calum broke the kiss to his lips too soon for his liking. “More kisses when we get home, I promise.” Calum teased easily, finally pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder.

“I can live with that. Want me to teach you Minecraft after dinner, or were you enjoying Julien telling you what to do?”

“Maybe if you can properly motivate me I’ll learn it.” Calum said, wiggling his dark eyebrows at Michael.

“So long as you don’t forget afterwards,” Michael said, grin spreading his cheeks as he put the car in drive and began the route home.

Writer Discord: @cashtonasfuck​ @kingcals​ @koalacal @loveroflrh​ @goth5sos​ @irwinkitten​ @5-secondsofcolor​ @5sosnsfw​ @punkrockpreferences​ @gigglyirwin​ @fallinluke​ @calumcest​ @catearscliffo​ @mermaidcashton​ @spicycal​ @sublimehood​ @shal-pal​ @queer-5sos​ @mysticalhood​ @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles​ @castaway-cashton​ @jae-writes-fanfiction​ @sexgodashton​ @vipclifford​ @adoringlrh​

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Slash!Tag List: @tigerteeff 

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

What Once Was Mine College!AU

In which Y/N and Harry are old lovers who somehow find their way back to each other amidst this chaos.

If a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

It had started with a fateful cough, class cancellations, and a choice to stay.

“Aren’t you gonna get up?” Katia, one of your roommates, questioned from the room outside of yours. She wasn’t bunking with you; the girl who had been, Elise, had mysteriously left about a week ago, when you’d woken up to find no trace of her usual throw pillows or belongings in the bed across from yours. “It’s the last day of classes, you know.”

You did know. You were all too aware of this fact, following the sudden declaration of a virus more minuscule than a grain of salt’s permeation of the world. The university had decided to close classes and encourage all students who were able to evacuate the surroundings as quickly as possible, heading home before the virus spread enough to veto travel entirely. Students took to this, although a bit anxious in regards to their tuition, refunds, and housing.

You had these concerns, as well. The virus didn’t seem real at first. You went through the stages of believing the media was exaggerating the virus, and then thinking that it wasn’t really a threat to youth, but that it was one’s civic duty to stay inside so those with weaker immune systems could thrive. What had concerned you most was tuition and housing. But, right now, you were all too aware of the empty space next to your bed. The fact that you’d stayed in your dormitory all of last and this week studying for assessments and exams, only to somehow end up with a heaviness in your head, a clammy, burning feel to your forehead.

You were sick with something. And it terrified you.

“I’m thinking of just getting a head start on packing,” you answer hesitantly, trying to string the words together as confidently as possible, all too aware of how your throat felt sore trying to accomplish this. “I don’t think there’ll be any actual classes, or not much of anything substantial, anyway.”

“Okay,” your roommate piped uncertainly. “Er, do you want me to help you when I come back?”

“No!” you cleared your throat, trying to mask the horror. “I mean... it’s fine, I just need to do this alone.”

“You’ve been locked in your room a while, sweetie,” Katia said kindly from outside of the door, and you felt your heart stop. “I know with all of the stuff with Harry, it’s only natural, but I’m here for you, ‘kay?”

“M’kay. Thanks, Kat.”

You heard the door click shut.

—

Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry.

It had been so long since you’d seen him. Since the break-up. Not all of it was about pent-up emotions, though. There was also the whole “I think my roommate gave me coronavirus before she fled the residence” which kept you from wandering outside of your room. But you’d be lying if the way you’d broken up hadn’t served as a motivator to keep you cooped up in your dormitory, completely isolated.

Tears pricked your eyes as you remembered the fight. The one you’d instigated when he’d done absolutely wrong, when it was your insecurities that had presented themselves in the privileged setting, the flirtatious looks he was on the receiver end of. The feeling that he’d never truly be yours, and that he was never meant to be, in the first place.

“You always do this,” he’d growled, alcohol in his bloodstream, but the bitter truth on his lips. “This is what you do, isn’t it, sweetheart?” the words so harshly spoken, his fingers digging into your wrist, eyes intoxicated but clearer than you’d ever seen. “You fuckin’ run...they always run.”

“Harry, let me go,” you’d said quietly, looking down while you still felt the unbearable iciness of his stare.

“Let you go,” he had laughed bitterly, throwing back another swig of alcohol with his free hand. The one that wasn’t only tightening his grip on yours. “I’m the one...”

“Harry,” you’d whimpered, face crumpling. “Harry, you’re hurting me.”

You weren’t referring to the wrist.

He had paused. His darkened gaze trained on yours, lips parting with each heavy breath, eyes intensely searching your face for anything, everything you could give him. Then, they averted. Defeated. His grip loosened.

“This time,” his voice was thick with suppressed emotion, the same storminess in his eyes. “This time, if you run, don’t come back.”

Now, you were painfully aware of how alone you were. In a dormitory thinking you were infected with something too scary to try to comprehend. Unable to go outside, because you didn’t want this to affect anyone else, but also unable to get tested, because you weren’t yet a priority. You were surviving off of granola bars you’d picked up not long before this catastrophe began, along with a bunch of cold medicine and fluids. With no one to call. No home to return to, besides one filled with people who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about you.

“I’ve driven away the only person who cared,” your voice broke, as your stomach rumbles. You didn’t have the heart to grab another stale granola bar or saltine.

—

Harry’s worried, to say the least.

After that Friday night, nearly a week and a half ago, you’ve disappeared on him. At first, he was a shell of himself, showing up to classes, a hardened aspect to him. You’d really hurt him, and he felt he had the right to be upset.

But once the third day passed with no sight of you, he’d grown a bit curious. You weren’t one to miss classes: you’d once shown up hungover out of your mind, with a killer headache, but still willing to offer your analysis of Franny and Zooey, and why it was a love story before anything else.

Were you okay?

When this question had initially circulated through his mind the first couple of days, he’d merely scoff to himself. Why wouldn’t you be? You’d toyed with his emotions, unhinged all of his trust. He thought you got some sick satisfaction out of it. He wasn’t going to keep chasing you, forever.

After the first week, he began asking people. Just casually, to people who didn’t know you closely enough to tell you. He spoke to people you knew were apart of organizations you were passionate about and in. Nada. Zilch.

He’d resorted to asking Katia, seeing as your other roommate was gone, and she’d simply huff and leave.

Today was the last of day of classes, and, quite frankly, Harry realized as he watched the professor lecture on how classes would be commencing, he was angry. Furious.

“Of course,” he whispers darkly. “Of course, she gets to be locked up in the tower, feeling sorry for herself after she hurt me.”

“Er, what?” Niall rose a bit from his cat nap, eyes trained curiously on his fuming friend, who suddenly rose, fingers clenched to fists at his sides.

Harry left the lecture hall with a straight face, and walked a ways away before picking up his cellphone and finally dialling the number he’d religious avoided for days now.

“H-hello,” your voice came out incredibly soft through the receiver, and he hated that it made him want to kiss you everywhere.

“Where are you?”

His voice comes out harsh. Clipped.

“I’m in my dormitory,” you answer with confusion evident in your voice. “Why—”

He hangs up.

—

When you hear a loud rapping against your door, you regret giving him the key to your dormitory. All that separates you now is a bedroom door.

Fuck, you think, eyes wildly darting everywhere to plan an escape. You can’t risk letting him in here, either. This means you can’t jump out the window avoiding him.

“Y/N,” his voice is deep, loud, and however cold it is, you so desperately want to let him in. “Let me in.”

“N-no,” you wince at the way your voice trembles. “I can’t.”

“Cut the shit,” he snaps, and you flinch. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pretend that you’re the one struggling, when you can’t even commit to me.”

You said nothing, tears welling in your eyes. Everything he had said was the truth.

“Stay out, Harry,” you keep your voice cool and even, this time. “Haven’t I made it clear that I don’t want you here?”

The other end of the door is silent, and your face falls. You lean back against the headboard of your bed, thinking he’s gone. He’s finally left, and you don’t like the feeling that wells in your chest in response to this fact.

Fate works in funny ways, sometimes.

You cough.

It’s a standard cough: reverberating through your chest, reacting to the phlegm congesting your oesophagus almost itchingly, and disrupting the natural rhythm of your breaths. It’s loud enough. Raspy.

You think you’re alone to do it, until a voice calls from the other end of the door; and it’s hoarse, tight.

“Y/N?”

“Er,” you pause uncertainly, wondering if it really would be that dangerous for you to jump ship out of the window and run. “Yes?”

“Was that,” his voice is low, hushed. “...Was that a cough?”

You could have laughed. Although the circumstances were admittedly dire, the mental image of Harry backing up and fleeing the scene like a headless chicken at the rasp of a cough conjures some amusement.

“That’s what they tell me,” you reply awkwardly. A girl can only take so much transparency.

“Do you have any other...” he trails off.

“Harry,” you dead-pan. “I’m fine. You can leave.”

Silence.

“No.”

“Harry—“

“Let me in, Y/N.”

“I can’t,” you stress, eyes widening in panic. “Just go..okay? It’s not what you think.”

“Why can’t you let me in, then?”

Relentless.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I just don’t want you to come inside?”

He scoffs. You hear the door knob being fiddled with and curse, as he promptly swings the door open after some hankering. You bury yourself under the covers. For all the money you were throwing at this institution, the least they could do was offer a decent lock system.

Harry takes in the disorganized dormitory; steps inside with no invitation. His eyes linger with interest at the Nature Valley granola bars located on Y/N’s dorm room floor. He steps over a few boxes, sits down at the corner of your bed with confident air.

“Stay away from me,” you groaned. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why, exactly, should I do that?”

“Because,” you pause, preparing yourself to tell the truth. Your eyes stare ahead at the inside of your blanket, burning. “I’ve been coughing, and my throat’s closing up.”

“And?”

“I think I have it,” you whisper, brokenly. Eyes welling with tears.

He promptly throws the blanket upwards, slides into the bed beside you. He grabs a Nature Valley bar on his way up. You gawk openly at him as his toes dance while his fingers tear at the plastic wrapper, bringing the bar to his mouth with great interest. He bites into it, and recoils a little.

“Not my flavour,” he comments, blithely. As if that’s any explanation.

“Are you stupid,” you stress, eyes wide as saucers. “I just told I think I have COVID-19, and you’re helping yourself to my rations?”

He snorts.

“Is this why you haven’t been coming to class?” Harry asks, forest green eyes twinkling slightly with a blend of amusement, but also awe, to your dismay. Your stubborn silence causes him to let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter. You shoot him a dirty look.

“To think I thought it was because of something I’d said,” he marvels, with another bite and subsequent recoil to the snack bar. He shakes his head. “You, Y/L/N, have a way of messing with a bloke’s head.

“Forgive me,” you spit, “for fulfilling my civic duty of—“

“Civic duty?”

For some reason, this sends him into peals of laughter.

“Yes,” you smart, crossly. “My—“

“You,” he inches closer, and you move back cautiously, until you’re pressed up against the wall, and his chest is pressed to yours. You can feel his breath warmly fanning onto your flushed cheeks. “are not sick.”

“What in God’s name do you—“

He waved the half-eaten granola bar to your face, tellingly. Thumbed over the fine-print stating ‘peanuts included.’

You blanch. Blink.

“Oh.”

Allergies. Right-O.

“Yeah,” he chews slowly, moving back so his back is against the headboard, “Oh.”

You settled, after a quiet, but not uncomfortable pause.

“Since you’re here, I wanted to apolo—“

“Splendid day we’re having, isn’t it?” He turned to you. “Want to go on a walk and eat something besides that which you are direly allergic to?”

Or stay home. What, with an offer like that?

“Please.”

—

It’s an awful shame, you think as you both step past the stone statues and into the path led by aged, looming sycamores and dolorous baby blue jays, that this pandemic hit right as things were coming alive again.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you voice, as Harry stops by the tree under which you’d kissed for the first time, fingers tracing the rough patterns of the branches before you both came to rest with backs against the trunk. “Life for us seems to have stopped. We stay home. Don’t come back to college for God knows how long, but things are still happening. Life exists outside of the virus. Babies are still being born, tragedy still strikes. It feels wrong, but right at the same time.”

“A little early to be pensieve,” Harry notes, but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s teasing. You know he knows what you mean. He always does. Used to.

“Days spent banished to a chamber with poisonous granola bars as the only ration will do that,” you counter, and he steps up, giving you a hand. You take it. Somewhere along the way, you let it go, and narrow your eyes at his blank look.

“Last one to your dorm is a rotten loser,” you exclaim, feet working quickly to get you up those stairwells, with him hot on your heels.

Ten minutes later, you’re both sprawled on his bed, the sun peeking through the curtains and miscellaneous snacks scattered about as you feast.

At some point, mid-chew with a Wagon Wheel stuffed in your mouth rather ravishingly, you find yourself glancing curiously at him.

“Why’re you doing this?”

It hadn’t exactly ended prettily. He shrugs.

“In case the apocalypse keeps us apart forever.”

And you stay.

Because, if a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

Masterlist

[flowerfan2]

Private Time - Chapter Two

Klaine, M, 4k, A03. Summary:  One thing about being in quarantine with your grad school roommates... you hardly get any private time...

Wow, the reaction to this fic has blown me away.  Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and commented.  It’s wonderful to feel the Klaine love.

And since you asked so nicely, here is chapter two!

Chapter 2

Kurt Hummel prides himself on being able to survive just about anything, from small town bigots to drama school divas.  But this quarantine thing is really getting to him.

It’s not that he has any problems with his roommates, far from it.  He’s known Rachel since high school, and his fondness for her more than balances his aggravation.  Sweet and goofy Sam became part of their trio of friends last year when Kurt had thought about starting a band, and Sam had shown up at the audition.  While the band didn’t take off, Kurt will never forget Sam’s rendition of “Nothing On But The Radio.”  Priceless.

But then there’s Blaine. Even thinking about the guy makes Kurt go weak in the knees.  It’s not like Kurt to be so affected by a pretty face, even one peeking out from under wet curls as he scoots down the hall after his evening shower with just a towel wrapped low around his hips.  Kurt prides himself on his restraint when it comes to opening up to the possibility of romance, but with Blaine, it has been a challenge.

It started with that damn a capella benefit Rachel dragged him to.  As if he needed to spend an evening watching preppy kids grinning at each other while they sang poorly re-arranged pop tunes.  “It’s for a good cause, Kurt,” Rachel had argued.  “And it’s not just the college groups. Everyone at the university can participate.  I would be performing, too, if I wasn’t saving my voice.”

 And so an hour into a dreadfully dull evening of twenty-somethings trying to relive their high school musical glory days, Kurt had his first experience of nearly losing his mind over Blaine Anderson.  Amidst a sea of mediocrity, Blaine came on stage and performed Sondheim’s <i>Not While I’m Around</i> without accompaniment.  Kurt felt like he was coming apart.  He was so wrecked that he left the theater immediately after Blaine’s performance and spent the rest of the evening stalking around campus, furious with himself for losing his cool.

 That night while his roommates were still out, Kurt indulged himself in a way he hadn’t done in ages. First a lavender scented bubble bath, then a long solo session in between fresh, clean sheets.  It was okay to fantasize about Blaine Anderson, he was just a guy on a stage, Kurt didn’t know him from Adam (and he was way, way hotter than Adam with or without his Apples).  Kurt found himself humming “nothing’s gonna harm you, no sir” halfway through and didn’t even censor himself, reveling in the thought that his fantasy Blaine would protect him from all the demons of the world.

 After that, Kurt felt like he saw the guy everywhere – ducking out of the campus coffee shop, running in the early morning chill, giving Sam a warm hug before they parted ways after class.  Kurt had sort of known that Sam was bringing Blaine to see his performance of Macbeth, but had managed to block it out until afterwards, when Sam trotted backstage with Blaine on his heels.  Blaine’s shy smile and soft blush when he offered Kurt his congratulations had rendered him nearly speechless.

 And then the unthinkable happened.  They had held off on finding a fourth person to share the rent for several months, mostly because Rachel thought that sharing their single decent shower with two guys was as much as she could stand, but money was tight for all of them and it seemed silly to let the room stay empty.  Before they had even had a chance to advertise the vacancy Sam came home one afternoon with Blaine, announced that he had found them a perfect flatmate, and started giving Blaine the tour.  Kurt had nearly choked on his skinny margarita.

 There wasn’t much time to dwell on his crush before the quarantine, but now, Blaine is everywhere. Kurt tries to count how many different black polo shirts the man has, just to prove himself he could look but still retain a modicum of brain power, but he fails miserably.  Instead his eyes keep sliding down to where Blaine shirt’s is tucked around his slender waist, just before his red pants curve over the best ass Kurt has ever seen.  

 When Rachel announces her <i>private time</i> plan Kurt immediately knows what she is up to. If Sam and Blaine knew her better, they would have caught on faster as well – since when did Rachel Berry mind if anyone heard her sing?  It’s a lame cover-up, but before Kurt can open his mouth and say so, he realizes how useful Rachel’s plan could be.  So he stands up, smooths his hands down over his pants, and high-tails it upstairs to the privacy of his room before his pants get even tighter.

 That first night, Kurt doesn’t have any intention of participating.  He’s feeling rather superior, if he is honest with himself. Suddenly randy Rachel and lack of self-control Sam may be taking care of business, but Kurt Hummel doesn’t need any of that.  He puts on his headphones, pulls out an old voice lesson journal, and goes through some exercises himself.  Rachel may have been joking about the need for private rehearsal time, but Kurt is nothing if not career focused, and he hasn’t had much of an opportunity for honing his craft lately either.

 After he finishes the exercises in his journal, Kurt gets out his phone and some earbuds – he’s got some vocal tracks on his phone which split the parts, the lead coming through on one side and the harmony parts on the other. Just as he’s finding the track he wants to start on and fiddling with the left earbud, which for some unknowable reason keeps falling out of his ear, he hears a long, low moan.

 Kurt freezes, earbud dangling from his hand.  It’s Blaine, that much is obvious from the direction of the sound, and from the fact that it seems to be coming from right next to him, where only a wall divides his room from Blaine’s.  Somehow that one drawn-out expression of need has shot right through him, sparking through his entire body.  Kurt feels light-headed and almost forgets to breathe.

 Overwhelmed, Kurt panics. He scrambles to grab the noise-cancelling headphones and clamp them over his ears, and dives under his duvet.  It’s too much, and it’s inappropriate to think about, but at the same time it’s impossible not to imagine.  It’s Blaine, with his hand on his private parts, making that incredibly sexy noise just a few feet away from Kurt.  Kurt is never going to make it through this quarantine.

 By the next morning Kurt has regained his equilibrium.  He spends most of the day firmly (but not <i>firmly,</i> Kurt thinks, bad word choice, sternly, yes, very sternly, god that’s hardly better, hardly, stop it, I’m dying, I’m being slain by my own internal monologue) telling himself that he is not going to participate any further in Rachel’s ridiculous plan.  Tomorrow, their next scheduled private time night, Kurt will simply go for a walk. Walking is good for him, he could use the exercise and fresh air, and he doesn’t do it nearly as much as he should. He’ll even wear the new mask he made from a Prada dust bag (there’s no need to abandon style, just because there’s a pandemic).

 But on Thursday night when he tells Rachel he’s going out she cackles at him like she’s auditioning for the Wicked Witch of the West, and points with a shaking finger to the window. It’s raining, a veritable deluge. Kurt growls at her and goes upstairs.

 Fine.  It’s all fine.  He can do this.  It’s nothing to feel shameful about, even if everyone in the house knows he’s doing it. They’re all doing it too.  

 Kurt lights a candle (sandalwood), finds some of the expensive body lotion he saves for special occasions, and makes himself comfortable.  Soon his thoughts are wandering to how a certain someone looked this morning, sitting out on the back porch with Sam.  They had both been fooling around on their guitars, and Sam was teasing Blaine about how his hair kept falling into his eyes.  Sam had even reached out and pushed an errant, gel-free curl away from Blaine’s face…

 That should have been Kurt. He would have waited until Blaine finished playing a gentle love song (“the things you do endear me to you, ah you know I will… I will”) and looked up expectantly at him, a hesitant smile on his face.  Kurt would have leaned close to Blaine, seeing his long lashes flutter as he softly pressed his palm to Blaine’s smooth cheek.  Kurt would have threaded his fingers through Blaine’s dark hair, and they would have laughed together, barely audible to anyone else, and then Kurt would have pulled Blaine in for a breathtaking, awe-inspiring first kiss.

 Kurt climaxes with an unexpected grunt, and then presses his face into his pillow.  That was embarrassingly fast, even for a fantasy.  He’s going to have to do better.  At least he needs to get to the part where he can grab Blaine’s ass in his hands and give it a good squeeze.  Who knows what kind of noises Blaine might make when his ass is fondled just right.  Kurt might even have to think about sliding those tight red pants down over Blaine’s luscious curves, moving his hands up and down and around, letting his fingers explore and press in…

 Kurt realizes he’s getting hard again, and much to his dismay, he soon goes for round two like a horny teenager.  

 It rains all day on Friday, and Saturday morning is equally gloomy, ruining their plans to make lunch and take it to campus for an appropriately socially distant picnic. Sam comes up with an alternate plan that involves bartering for a packet of yeast (the sister of one of his rugby mates thought ahead and purchased large quantities from a restaurant supply store) and making homemade bread, and Blaine sunnily agrees to bike to the other side of town to pick it up.  Kurt volunteers some of his masks to use as a trade, and by noon, they are all assembled in the kitchen, ready to start their day’s project.

 Kurt has made bread a million times (okay, maybe just two or three), so they all look to him for guidance. It turns out to be way more fun than Kurt had expected, even more so when he keeps catching Blaine looking at him shyly from under those ridiculously long lashes.  When they all start giggling at the mess they’ve made and Blaine reaches out and tries to wipe flour off of Kurt’s nose, Kurt thinks he’s never been happier.

 That night they eat their bread with the remains of various cheeses and drink more wine than Kurt had thought they had left in the house.  He’s feeling loose and safe in his skin when Blaine flops down on the couch next to him, holding out a bowl of strawberries.  “These go great with the bread,” Blaine says, which is what they’ve been saying about everything they have eaten that night.

 Kurt doesn’t argue and pops a strawberry in his mouth.  “Yeah, they do.”

 Blaine focuses his big brown eyes on Kurt, and then leans in and draws his finger just along the edge of Kurt’s mouth, making him shiver.

 “Powdered sugar,” Blaine explains, and then shuffles even closer to Kurt on the couch.  It’s like he’d done earlier today, but this time his voice comes out in a caramel draped baritone.  “You’ve got a little here, too.”  Blaine touches a fingertip to Kurt’s cheek, and then then blushes furiously and lets his hand drop.

 Kurt can’t resist, Blaine is simply too enticing.  Blaine’s done all the hard work anyway, his blush speaking as eloquently as any Shakespeare sonnet.  “I think you’ve still got flour in your hair,” Kurt says, reaching out and twining a curl around his finger.  It’s just as soft as he imagined, and Blaine lets out a little sigh in response and leans his head into the touch.  

 Kurt takes a deep breath, his whole body trembling.  Blaine’s eyes rise to meet his, and Kurt cups Blaine’s cheek and pulls Blaine in for a kiss.

 It’s better than his fantasy, of course it is.  Blaine tastes of strawberries and wine, his stubble scrapes ever so gently against Kurt’s skin, and he’s warm and alive under Kurt’s hand.  They move closer on the couch, knees and thighs and shoulders pressing against each other.  Blaine’s tongue darts out to trace Kurt’s lips, and then Kurt opens his mouth and the kiss deepens, harder and gentler in turns, until Kurt forgets that anything else exists in the world except for this.

 When they finally part, breathless and wide eyed, Rachel and Sam have disappeared.  Kurt glances at the clock on the wall and sees that it’s after eleven.  Blaine’s glance follows his, and then he beams at Kurt, a mischievous look dancing in his eyes.

 “It’s private time,” Blaine says, and Kurt blinks at him, momentarily confused.  The earnest expression on Blaine’s face sure doesn’t look like he’s interesting in putting an end to their not-so-solo activities, and either does the hand he’s holding out to Kurt.

 “Care to accompany me?”

[robinrunsfiction]

Winter/Christmas Alphabet - U is for Undying Love

Pairing: Ryan Seaman x Female Reader  Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~1800 Author’s Note: Hooooooooly crap 😅 I had mentioned to @idontwannabetherightwayround​ yesterday afternoon around 4 PM that I was struggling with this prompt, but I got it sorted out and by like 10:30 I was almost 1800 words in. Sometimes it works like that!  Anyway, enjoy some friends to lovers fluff

It started on a snowy day.

(YN) and her family had moved in across the street from Ryan’s family at the end of summer. That fall they were in the same class, but he hadn’t ever talked to her, and it didn’t seem like she talked to anyone else either. Fall turned to winter, and with winter came a terrible snow storm that closed schools for the day.

“Ryan, why don’t you go outside and play,” his mom suggested, noticing he had been sitting in front of the TV most of the day.

“There’s no one to play with,” he mumbled.

“That girl across the street is building a snowman by herself, maybe she would like some help.”

Ryan looked out the window. He did want to play in the snow. A few minutes later, he was bundled up and trudging through the mounds of snow and across the street.

“Hi,” he said as he stood at the edge of her yard. “Can I make a snowman with you?”

“Sure,” she nodded. She seemed as shy as she did in school.

“Your name is (YN), right?”

“Yea,” she smiled.

“I’m Ryan.”

(YN) nodded and continued to roll the big ball of snow she was working on. “Can we use that one as his head?” She asked pointing to the ball Ryan was patting together.

“Sure,” he nodded, rolling it toward where (YN) was stacking the middle part.

“My mom gave me a carrot and some buttons to use as the face,” she said as they finished assembling the snowman.

“Do you wanna make a snow fort next?” Ryan asked once the snowman was finished.

(YN) smiled and nodded. “Yea!”

From that day on, Ryan and (YN) were practically inseparable. Nothing could come between them and no one ever questioned their unwavering friendship. They always had each other’s backs and they were certain nothing would ever change the platonic love they had.

Until it all changed.

~8 Years Later~

It was the night of their freshman winter formal and (YN), Ryan, and their friends had gone in a big group. He never really thought about whether or not (YN) was pretty, she was just his friend, he never thought about her in any way other than that. But that night, standing in the gym, decorated with streamers and under the glow of twinkle lights, he realized she was really, really pretty. He tried not to stare as he tried to work up the courage to ask her to dance. When a slow song finally came on, he looked over, and could feel his heart breaking as he saw their friend Jake asking her to dance.

After the dance was over, he and (YN) were standing out in front of the school, waiting for (YN)’s mom to pick them up. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure where to start. The silence hung between them was palpable.

“Jake had bad breath,” (YN) said suddenly. “It was so awkward.”

They both burst out laughing and just like that things were back to normal. Except they weren’t.

(YN) laid awake that night wondering why Ryan hadn’t asked her dance. She could have sworn he was looking at her. Maybe he thought she looked weird in her fancy dress and all that makeup on. Was there any chance in the world that he’d actually like her the way she liked him? Did he get that when she made that joke that she was trying to let him know that she didn’t like Jake?

She got up and looked out her window and wondered if Ryan was still awake, his room was dark. She climbed back into the bed and closed her eyes tight, willing herself to fall asleep, hoping for some kind of reprieve in her dreams.

~Three Years Later~

Years passed and (YN) and Ryan continued to pretend like everything was normal between them, even though they were both desperately in love with the other.

It was the last New Year’s before they were going to graduate high school, and their town had been hit with another terrible snow storm, cancelling all the parties and festivities that had been scheduled. (YN) called and invited Ryan over to hang out, since there was nothing else to do.

“Hey Ryan?” (YN) started, drawing up all her courage.

“Yea?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the movie on the TV in front of them in the dark basement.

“You know how… I mean, umm,” she squeezed her eyes shut until she felt his hand on top of hers. She opened her eyes.

“Go on,” he nodded.

“You know how you’re supposed to kiss someone at midnight? I, umm… do you wanna do that?”

Ryan looked stunned, and (YN) thought maybe his cheeks were even flushing red. “Umm, yea we can.”

“I just, you know I never kissed anyone before, right?” she asked looking down. She was equal parts embarrassed about the fact that no one had ever kissed her and that she was that she felt like she was conning him into giving her her first kiss.

“That’s ok, I mean, as long as you’re ok with it,” Ryan shrugged.

(YN) nodded and settled in again, trying to remain as calm as possible as the time ticked down to the moment she’d been waiting years for. She tried not to look at the watch on her wrist constantly in the dim glow of the TV. When she finally let herself look again it was 11:58 PM.

“It’s almost midnight,” she said softly.

Ryan paused the movie and turned so he was facing her as she watched the second hand move across the face of her watch. 

“Five, four, three, two, one. Happy new year,” she smiled up at Ryan.

He leaned across the space between them, his lips landing on hers, catching her off guard for a moment before she relaxed into the kiss. When they pulled back, they both laughed nervously.

“Happy new year,” he said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

(YN) nodded, trying to maintain her composure as Ryan restarted the movie.

Nothing more was said of that night, but it was not forgotten by either of them. Both of them replaying it over and over in their heads almost every day, certain that it would never happen again.

~Present Day~

It had been years since that night.

They graduated and (YN) went off to college. Ryan went to L.A. to try to get his start as a drummer. They kept in touch, not like they did when they lived across the street from each other growing up, but every time they talked, it was as if they hadn’t been apart for more than 10 minutes.

It was Christmas Eve when (YN) pulled up in front of her parent’s house. When she got out of her car, her heart started to flutter.

“Ryan!” She called to her friend shoveling the sidewalk in front of his parents home. 

He looked up and grinned, jogging across the road and wrapping (YN) in a big hug. “Oh my god, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, it’s been too damn long!” (YN) smiled, acutely aware of how his hands lingered on her waist for a moment longer than necessary. “Umm, did you hear I’m moving?” (YN) asked, kicking at the snow at her feet.

“Oh yea? Where to?”

“L.A.”

“Hey!” Ryan grinned, “we’re finally gonna be in the same city again!”

“I know! I’m excited, it’s been kind of a bummer that we’ve only been able to see each other sporadically for so many years.”

Ryan nodded. “Yea, I’ve missed seeing you like when we were kids.”

(YN) nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. Suddenly she felt like a teenager again with her crush on Ryan making it so she couldn’t quite look him in the eye for fear that he might see and somehow know. “Well I should head in, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

Ryan nodded. “It was good to see ya (YN).”

(YN) waved and went inside.

That night Ryan tossed and turned in his childhood bed that was just a bit too small for him now. But even if it was a king size mattress, he wouldn’t be sleeping. (YN) was moving to L.A. He lived in L.A. There was no reason, none at all why he couldn’t, why he shouldn’t tell her how he felt. It had been so many years. He tried to date other girls, but none of them made him feel the way (YN) did. 

He sat up and went to his window. Glancing out, (YN)’s house was dark except for one window. (YN)’s.

Quickly he got dressed and slipped out of the house as quietly as possible to keep from waking anyone else. When he got across the street, he gathered up snow in his hand and threw it at her window. A moment later, (YN)’s confused face appeared in the window until she looked down and started laughing. A few minutes later, the porchlight turned on and (YN) stepped outside.

“Ryan, what are you doing?” She laughed, wrapping her coat tightly around herself as he walked up the front steps.

“I’m sorry, I’ve lost too many nights of sleep over this, and I can’t wait any longer to say it. (YN), I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’m certain on the day I die I’ll still be madly in love with you. I know this changes everything, but I just can’t go on acting like I just care about you as a friend when I spend every night thinking about you, imagining what our life together could be, if I could ever be that lucky.”

“You… you love me?” (YN) stammered.

“Yea,” Ryan replied, trying to remain calm, but he was shaking, his stomach was doing flips.

Tears started to run down (YN)’s cheek. “I, I just, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. I love you too, Ryan! I’ve wanted to say that forever, but I was scared. The closest I came was that time I got you to kiss me on New Years,” she laughed lightly.

He stepped forward, his thumb wiping away her tears, cupping her cheek in his hand, and she leaned into the touch. “If you want, we could be together,” he said softly.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she replied, looking up at him.

Ryan leaned in, his lips meeting hers as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and he pulled her against him. All the years of waiting, of pining, of almost moments had built to now and it was almost too much for them to bear. They pulled back breathlessly, his forehead resting against hers.

“I love you,” she whispered again. “Always have.”

“I love you too,” he replied. “Always will.”

[billythebabehargrove]

Faulty Plans

AN: there may be some errors

Word count: 2.1k

“You were going to let me go”

Okay so maybe your plan to find out if Steve Harrington was in love you wasn’t ethical, but it was happening so that didn’t matter anymore. You and Steve have this unspoken agreement that you both liked each other; well at least you thought that you did. Every time you two were together the brief touches, unusually long glances and cringe worthy flirting made that obvious, right? . But Steve was yet to make a move so maybe you’re over thinking it all. However that didn’t stop you from making a plan that would hopefully reveal his feelings to you. It goes that you get one of the boys you both went to high school with to ask you on a date by any means necessary, then while on your Friday dinner date with Steve and Robin you announce said date, Steve will not be happy and stop you from going on said date and declare his feelings for you. It may not happen as smoothly as you would hope, but optimism makes the world go round.

O’Keeffe’s bar on a Thursday afternoon was relatively quite which made for a boring shift. Sitting behind the bar watching the regulars slowly sipping their drinks made the time go even slower. You needed to leave early if you wanted to get to quarry. Your old high school class was having a get together for their first spring break as college students, although most of them hadn’t gone to college and were just going along to get shit faced. What better opportunity to find a date than with a bunch of drunk guys who have nothing better to do with their lives. Holding your head up on your palm, you hear the bell above the door ring and in steps a younger looking man. Upon further inspection you realise that your luck might be changing, and cheap alcohol and fake flirting at the quarry may not be on your cards tonight. Eric Pine, ex Hawkins high star football player and newly qualified bank teller had taken a seat on a stool at the end of the bar. You walk down and stop in front of him “What can I get you?”, you say smiling at big as you can while twirling a rag between your fingers. He looks up from the bar and nets your eyes, lighting up when he realises who you are “I don’t care Y/N, just make it strong” “Rough night, huh?” you say reaching for the vodka on the shelf behind you “oh you have no idea” he laughs haphazardly. You set the drink down in front of him with a nod “Anything I can help with?” He laughs again and nods down to his glass “yeah just keep these coming and I’ll be right as rain” “whatever you say captain”. After a while of chatting you figure out the cause of Eric’s sadness ,Mallory , his high school sweetheart, has decided that they aren’t working and she can’t “see a forever” in him. “I get that I’m not that exciting guy I was in high school but I was in for the long run Y/N” he looks as if he’s about to cry. “You’re a great guy Eric, I’m one hundred percent certain that you’ll find your forever girl” “You are ?” you place a hand over his “I am , and if it makes you feel any better I don’t think the guy I see as a forever likes me that way so.... yeah love sucks”. Eric looks up from your hands and gives a sympathetic look “Well if he doesn’t he’s an idiot, I mean look at you Y/N, I don’t think I’ve meet a guy who hasn’t liked you that way” you laugh out loud causing some heads to turn “Now you’re just saying things”, he shakes his head, “cross my heart and hope to die”. By last call compliments had been thrown back and forth and you were hopeful of him asking you out. “Hey Y/N what are you doing Saturday?” He smirks, you look up to the ceiling taping it your cheek “uh nothing I don’t think”. You’d never seen Eric smile as wide, not even when Tina announced free booze at her annual Halloween party two years ago, “great maybe we can go out see a movie or get dinner or something and see if we’re each other’s forever”. You laugh and nod “yeah I’d like that”. Phase one of your plan was complete.

Friday evening at 6:30 you pull into Hurley's Burgers and went straight to your regular booth. Steve and Robin were sat beside each other chatting amongst themselves but turned to look as you slid into the seat across from them. They say hey in unison as you place your bag on the seat beside you “hey guys I’ve got news” “oh news, that sounds promising” Robin says arching her eyebrow placing her hands on the table. Steve looks at her in disgust “yeah...no every time Y/N says she’s got news it’s her way of making us do things for her”. You scoff teaching across the table to slap his shoulder “I do not” “uh yeah you do it’s always hey guys I’ve got news you’re cleaning my back yard with me before my parents get home and kill me or hey guys I’ve got news I’m not able to babysit my neighbours kids like I said so... guess which two people just gained a weekend job”. Robin looks from Steve to you “he’s got you there Y/N” you sigh “okay... I may have done that once or twice but this time the only thing you guys need to do is be happy for me”. Steve looks skeptical “whys that?” “Well...” you start “I got myself a date”. Robin laughs in shock while Steve chokes on air sitting up straight in his seat “wow Y/N I never thought I’d see the day” Robin says clapping slowly, Steve stays silent. That’s good right, that he’s speechless?. “Wow thanks you guys it’s so nice having friends that are confident in my abilities to attract men” you say sarcastically. The waitress comes and takes your order and as she leaves conversation turns back to your date. Steve finally speaks “so this date, who’s the lucky guy?” “You guys remember Eric, Eric Pine”. Robin nods “how could we forget he was the talk of the school after Billy and Steve of course” Steve shakes his head “you don’t remember him?” You say shocked. Steve again shakes his head “no I remember him alright, I  just thought you had better taste you know, you’re going on a date with the douche bag of the century” you laugh “ you’re one to talk Steve” “hey I’ve changed, I can guarantee he hasn’t”. This time it’s your turn to shake your head “ that’s where you're wrong, he was really sweet and funny and you know what I don’t care what you think Steve, this is first guy in so long that’s shown any interest in me so I will enjoy my date with him on Saturday regardless of what you think. You both sit in silence, Robin stirs her drink, and the sound of ice hitting glass fills the awkward air. You start to stand “I’m going to use the bathroom, you coming Rob?” She nods “yeah sure” she stands and slides out past Steve. When you reach the bathroom Robin stands arms across her chest staring at you “what?” you snap. She rolls her eyes “I think I should be the one asking you that, a date, what the fuck Y/N I thought you like Steve?” You sigh “I do” “then why are you doing this”. You hoist yourself up into the sink “I have a plan” “never good” Robin says following pursuit and sitting next to you on the sinks “I thought that if I got a date , Steve would realise his feelings for me and try to stop it or something, I don’t know but I guess that was stupid, look at us now”. Robin places her hands on your shoulders and shakes them a little “oh my god Y/N, do you really think he’s not head over heels in love with you” “ Robin you’re just a romantic, if he did he would have said something, pulled me aside and told me instead of arguing”. Robins jumps off the sink and stands in front of you “that is his way of pulling you aside” “whatever you say Rob I’m going to pee see you out there”. You walk into a stall, and as you close your door you hear another one open with a cream and long sigh being let out by the girl. The rest of the dinner is quiet with the odd bit of small talk but other than that no mention of the date arises. You leave earlier than usual and sleep the pain away.

 Saturday evening comes quickly; you sit in your living room staring at the phone on the wall. Maybe Robin was right maybe Steve does feel the same and he’ll realise what happened yesterday was a mistake and he’ll rush to phone to call and tell me to cancel my date because he loves me. The digital clock flashes 6:59 and your hope is gone Steve was never going to call who are you kidding. A beep from outside brings you back to reality, you pick up your coat and bag and leave the house to go to some fancy restaurant you’d rather not be at.

 Fast forward an hour later and you’re walking up Steve’s drive way with tears building in your eyes and shoes in your hand. You just couldn’t do it, how could you when Steve lived 5 blocks away and you knew he was sitting home alone probably watching Risky Business for the 300th time. You made it to Eric’s car before telling him you suddenly felt so sick and proceeded to fake nearly throwing up, he helped you back to your house and told you to call him when you’re feeling better to reschedule. You wait until you know he’s long gone before you leave your house to begin your trek to Steve’s. You knock on the door and step back onto the porch. The door swings open and there he is your forever, wearing an old Hawkins high T-shirt and a pair of striped pyjama bottoms and a stupid look on his face. He looks you up and down and before he can speak you push past him and wait for him I’m the living room. When he enters she start to talk “Y/N wha” you cut him off “you were going to let me go” the tears are start to fall “What?” Steve’s confused as he steps forward and reaches out in an attempt to heal your arm before you pull away. “You were going to let me go” “Y/N I’m really confused right now”. You throw yourself onto his couch “I guess it’s my own fault, I mean I saw it for myself yesterday” Steve sits beside you this time you let him touch you “Is this about me yelling at you yesterday, if it is I’m sorry Y/N, you know how I get” you sigh lying back in the couch cushions but not enough that you couldn’t look at him “it’s not that Steve”. He’s even more confused now “look Steve I had this crazy idea that you might like me just as much as I like you and when I told you about the date yesterday I wanted you to tell me not to go because you like me and then you didn’t so I thought, well maybe he’ll call before I leave and tell me not to go, but you didn’t you were letting me go so I was wrong...my plan failed ...you don’t like me”. Steve sits in silence just like the day before except this time he’s looking at you with his mouth hanging slightly open, you turn away from him and face the window. “You’re right Y/N I don’t like you” you laugh “geez thanks Steve way to kick a girl when’s she’s down” he pulls at your arm and you turn to face him “I don’t like you Y/N, I love you”. Now it’s your turn to stare at him in silence mouth hanging open “you what?” “I love you” he says it with so much confidence you don’t know what to do. Steve resolves that issue though and leans in for a kiss, when you finally pull apart you whisper “I love you too, Steve” “I know”. You push him backwards onto the couch “Hey don’t get too cocky” “you love it” “I still can’t believe you were going to let me go” “look I was never the brightest bulb” “You’re not wrong” now it was his turn to push you back onto the couch, starting the night of making up for lost time.

[morningfears]

Television Romance [Chapter One]

Rating: PG-13 (some swears, nothing major)

Summary: Natalia Adler is a stressed out grad student who attempts to escape the noise of her office by visiting her favorite coffee shop. However, instead of a few hours of writing, she gets a lap full of coffee and a date with the most gorgeous guy she’s ever met.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Two

The graduate student office was usually busy, bustling with activity and overflowing with graduate students working on various research projects or grading coursework as well as undergraduate students seeking assistance with assignments. It was always difficult to concentrate among the din, there was always some conversation or another taking place that was much more interesting than writing yet another proposal, but Tuesdays were the worst.

On Tuesdays, the graduate teaching seminar met in the student office. For an hour each week, the teaching assistants dragged whatever chairs they could find to the center of the room and formed a circle to discuss problems that had arisen in their classrooms, questions they had about university policy, and an article on teaching practices they were assigned to - but never actually did - read. The class was supposed to be useful, a way for them all to prepare for their futures as academics, but it usually turned into a shouting match as the stronger personalities argued over one another about best practices in classroom management. And after, when the dust settled and the faculty facilitator was gone, students who didn’t have a one o’clock class stuck around to catch up on whatever departmental gossip they’d missed throughout the week.

Most days, Natalia was able to tune it all out. Her desk was in the corner, hidden behind a flimsy partition, and her noise cancelling headphones worked wonders to drown out the arguments. She didn’t love catching snippets of pointless conversations about which departmental policies were outdated - they all were - or which graduate students were sleeping together but she made it work. However, today was not one of those days.

She had several important deadlines looming over her head - conference submissions, revisions for a potential publication, the first draft of her thesis proposal, all due within days of one another - and she was feeling overwhelmed. The argument as to whether the department was too hard or too soft on students - or whether professors played favorites - was only making things worse. Instead of subjecting herself to two more hours of torture, she decided to pack up her bag and head to the coffee shop across the street. Even if it was loud, it had to at least be less hostile than the office.

She stood, satchel slung over one shoulder with her cellphone and headphones in hand, and glanced over the top of her partition at the girl who sat across from her. Nicole, like Natalia, wore headphones whenever she worked in the office and only glanced up when Natalia tossed a paperclip at her.

“I’m going to Molly’s,” she announced when Nicole pulled her headphones away from her ears and glanced up at her. Natalia struggled to keep her voice quiet in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself, though she was half certain she could yell and still not be heard over her colleagues. However, she remained cautious as the last thing she wanted was for anyone to join her. “You want anything?”

“A new job, a better salary, a husband who takes out the trash… I could go on,” Nicole answered, rolling her neck and grinning tiredly at Natalia’s deadpan expression. “I’ll settle for a caramel latte, though. With almond milk and extra caramel, please. I’ll Venmo you.”

“I’ve got it,” Natalia assured her with a wave of her hand as Nicole reached for her cellphone, “you got me boba last week. You have class at three, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” Nicole sighed as she dropped the device, straightened up in her chair, and pulled a face as she glanced at the syllabus tacked to her partition wall. “We’re going over how Marxism influenced Burke today. I think I’d rather chew off my own foot than try to teach a group of undergrads about either Marxism or Burke.”

“I know the point of college is to make kids think,” Natalia began as she hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder and ambled around her partition to stop beside Nicole’s desk, “but I’m glad I got the class that’s a little more, ‘well, duh,’ than that. We’re going over how fundamentally fucked the US healthcare system is today.”

Nicole paused for a moment, staring at Natalia with a look that reeked of both annoyance and exhaustion, before she dropped her head to her desk and asked, “Is it too late to drop out?”

This was a conversation they’d had at least once a week since their first semester of graduate school and Natalia bit back a laugh as she nodded. “Yep. You’re halfway through your thesis proposal, no quitting now,” she pointed out as she nodded toward the stack of books on religious rhetoric that Nicole had stacked on her desk. “Anyway, only eight more months until we’re free.”

“I’m three pages in,” Nicole informed her, a pitiful whine erupting from her throat as she lifted her head and ran a hand through her unwashed curls. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Natalia, who had been under the impression that she was impossibly behind although she only lacked a completed methodology section, grimaced upon learning just how far behind Nicole was. She gave her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and, although she had her own deadlines to meet, offered her assistance. “I’ll probably be sticking around after class tonight,” she informed her as she thought about the papers she still needed to grade, “if you need me to help with anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Nicole sighed as she turned in her chair and smiled at Natalia, the exhaustion evident in her features although they were only a month into the semester. “I’m thinking about a writing party on Friday so that people can submit conference papers and then go get hammered after. You in?”

“Always down for drinks after opening myself up for rejection. You can send out an email and maybe follow up with a GroupMe or something. Your husband won’t mind you spending Friday with us?” she asked as she glanced over at the group of students, now talking instead of arguing, that still remained in the room. Although they got on her nerves sometimes, she had grown to love most of them.

“He’s going to a football game with some friends. If I stay home, I’ll just end up falling asleep in the tub with a glass of wine. I’ll send the email after class,” Nicole answered as she grabbed her headphones and moved to reposition them onto her ears. “Go, get out of here before someone stops you. You’ll be back by three?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you have to leave. I’ll text you when I’m on my way over. See you in a bit,” Natalia hummed as she tapped the top of Nicole’s partition before maneuvering around the group that crowded the doorway and stepping out into the hall.

The building itself wasn’t that busy, it rarely was, but campus was teeming with students as Natalia stepped outside. They typically opted for afternoon classes rather than morning ones and it was obvious that classes held after lunch were the most populated as she watched students wander from building to building. Her own undergraduate experience had been very different - classes as early in the morning as she could get them and work in the afternoons until late at night - but she understood the desire to take advantage of the opportunity.

As a graduate student, her schedule was a little different. She was usually the first one to arrive in the office, just to get a little work done, and held office hours during lunch. She was a TA for a class that met on Tuesdays and Thursday at three and had her own classes to attend, with each of the three meeting once a week, starting at six p.m. and ending at around ten. 

She was busier than she had ever been, even busier than the two years she spent working two jobs and overloading her class schedule. It was harder and lonelier than undergrad had been. She had little time to feel human or socialize without anyone outside of her program, however, she told herself that it would all be worth it when she finished and had a master’s degree under her belt.

Natalia made the most of the few minutes it took her to walk from her office to Molly’s, the closest coffee shop to campus that wasn’t the always crowded Starbucks in the library. She rarely got to enjoy her days. They were usually spent locked in the office or cooped up in the library, neither of which had enough windows. Although it was September, fall still seemed a lifetime away. 

She could still smell summer as an occasional ocean breeze wafted through campus. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the air was warm. It felt like the height of summer, as it usually did in Los Angeles, and she was grateful that she’d chosen to wear a dress instead of pants as the slight breeze kept her from overheating as she entered Molly’s.

The little coffee shop was every Instagram obsessed student’s dream. The exterior was nondescript with plain white walls and a small patio with string lights and a few small tables, however, the interior more than made up for it. There were walls covered with ivy - though Natalia didn’t know if it was real or not - and neon signs littered around the space. There was also a loft with tables and chairs that always seemed to be quieter than the rest of the shop.

It had all been too much for her the first time she visited. It seemed gimmicky, not the kind of place she wanted to frequent even if it was convenient, however, her opinion changed the moment she tried the coffee. Her predecessors in the program hadn’t been wrong in telling her that it was the best coffee she could get and that it served as a good hideout when the office got to be too much to handle. She understood why it was frequented by both students and the outside community, even if it took them too close to campus.

Although the coffee shop was bustling with students rushing in and out between classes, filled with the sounds of conversation and the excitement that came with a new school year, it still seemed quieter than the office. After ordering her iced coffee and settling into a table near the entrance, Natalia slipped her headphones back on and bit her lip in concentration as she opened her laptop and began working on the revisions she’d gotten back from her co-author.

It was difficult, not paying attention to the patrons that entered the shop as she loved people watching, but Natalia kept her eyes on her screen and typed away. If she had glanced up, she might have seen the looks that people threw one another as two men entered the shop. She might have seen how a few snuck pictures with their cellphones or how others whispered excitedly as they passed them by. But she didn’t. All she saw was the cursor on her document blink as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.

She focused on typing a new explanation for a concept she thought she’d covered well enough to need no further explanation, a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over her head as she let the reviewer’s comments weigh on her pride. However, as she got into a groove, her word count quickly climbing, she felt something cold splash against her right side.

She sat, stunned, for a few seconds, before she pulled her headphones off and blinked at the coffee that stained the right side of her dress and dripped from her skin. Ice cubes gathered in her lap, cold seeping through the fabric of her dress as she attempted to process what happened. It took a few more seconds of staring at the mess before she picked up her laptop and held it away from the growing pool of coffee. Ice cubes clattered to the floor as she stood and she grimaced as she watched them fall. She looked over the computer, sighing in relief when nothing appeared to be wet, before she lifted her head and looked at the person responsible.

Any other time, her attention would be on how beautiful the man in front of her was. He stood a head taller than her, easily, with broad shoulders and a surprised expression that she was sure matched her own. His blonde curls had fallen into his eyes, obscuring the blue slightly, and his cheeks and upturned nose were tinted pink in embarrassment as he looked over the damage he’d done.

They stared at one another for longer than necessary, his eyes lingering on her face just as hers lingered on his, and she was glad that he at least had the decency to stare at her face instead of the wet fabric clinging to her. The man beside him, slightly shorter and more amused than embarrassed, nudged his friend who moved as if he were a video that had been taken off pause.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his words rushing together as he watched her place her laptop on a neighboring table to keep it out of harm’s way before she reached for a few napkins. “Fuck, here, let me help you with that.”

His hand bumped into hers as he reached for more napkins and began wiping at the table and, as cliche as it was, she felt a jolt of something shoot down her spine as she quickly pulled her hand away. It was easy for Natalia to ignore the feeling as she watched him make matters worse. She tried to hide it, however, she couldn’t help but grimace as she moved her bag away from the table, slipping it over her head in an effort to avoid him sweeping coffee inside it.

She shook her head at his apology and reached for another handful of napkins. “It’s okay,” she sighed, not wanting to be rude even though she knew she’d have to take time she was planning on using to write to go home and change before class, “at least it was iced coffee.” She tossed the soaked napkins into the trash and bent down to pick up the ice cubes and cup from the ground. “What happened, anyway?”

“He tripped,” the shorter, dark-haired man informed her before he took a sip of his coffee. He still looked amused, positively delighted as he watched his friend struggle to find the right words to say, and Natalia bit back a laugh as she realized everyone had a friend like him.

“I didn’t trip,” the taller man defended with a roll of his eyes, cutting his eyes at his friend before returning his attention to Natalia. He met her eyes sheepishly, the embarrassment softening his features as he explained, “Someone bumped into me on their way in and I, uh…” He trailed off, clearly having planned on saying that he tripped, and dropped his gaze to the floor as Natalia laughed.

“Tripped?” she finished, a smile on her lips despite the situation. When the taller man grimaced, bringing the hand not full of soaked napkins up to rub at the back of his neck, she laughed once more.

“Fine, I tripped,” he acknowledged, “but it wasn’t just being clumsy. Someone really did bump into me.” He gave his explanation more to his friend than to her and she wondered how often he found himself tripping over thin air. He looked solid, like he wouldn’t be the type to trip over his own two feet, but looks could be deceiving and she knew from personal experience how annoying it was to be the clumsy friend.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, a little more sincere in her assurance this time as she offered him a genuine smile. “Nothing spilled on my laptop and it wasn’t boiling so, worst case scenario was avoided. I think I’ll just not sit near the door next time, though.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” he agreed. His lips were quirked in a smile, grateful that she wasn’t yelling at him, and he still held the soaked napkins in his hands. “I still feel bad, though. Can I make it up to you; buy you a coffee or something?” he asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice that told her he wasn’t just looking to make up for spilling coffee on her.

As much as it pained her to turn him down - and it hurt quite a bit as she found him to be beautiful, even in basketball shorts and a t-shirt - she didn’t have time. “That would be great,” she began, a rueful smile on her lips as she grabbed her laptop and slid it into her bag, “but I have to run. I need to go get changed before class. It’s really okay, though. No big deal.”

She didn’t miss the nudge his friend gave him and raised an eyebrow as she watched him swat at his friend’s elbow. “I, uh, how about dinner, then?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. 

He looked so earnest, his skin still tinted pink and his eyes wide, and she felt a giddy excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach. He was gorgeous, the kind of guy she never imagined would be interested in her, and she wanted to give him a chance. She didn’t know him, didn’t know if that chance would turn into a disaster, but she found herself wanting to take that risk.

“I have class until ten tonight,” she told him, biting back a coo when his face dropped at what he assumed was her rejection, “but if you tell me your name, I think I could free up my Friday night for dinner.”

He blinked, surprised at how her sentence ended, and smiled at her. He had a unique smile, his teeth on full display and tongue pressed to the back of them, and his eyes brightened as he nodded his agreement. “Right, yeah. Luke,” he introduced, moving to offer her his hand before realizing he still held the wad of napkins. “This meeting isn’t really going that well, huh?”

“I’d say it went south when you dumped coffee on her,” the friend commented, not even bothering to hide his grin as he watched the interaction unfold before him. “All downhill from there, mate.”

“I’m Natalia,” she introduced, pointedly ignoring his friend’s comment with an amused glance in his direction. “I’ve had worse first meetings, don’t worry. My freshman year roommate opened a door on me and gave me a concussion. You just stained a dress.”

“Oddly, that makes me feel better about this, thanks,” Luke laughed as he reached out and dropped the napkins into the garbage. “Can I get your number? That way you can go change now and we can make plans later,” he clarified, smiling at her as he offered her his cellphone to put her number in.

She felt Luke’s gaze on her as she put her number into his phone and she offered him a smile as she handed the device back. “I have one request for Friday,” she told him as she grabbed her own phone from the table and grinned at the text he sent her with his name, “no tables near the entrance.” Luke laughed at her request, a sound that she found endearing, and Natalia grinned at him. “I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

“See you on Friday,” he confirmed, grinning as he watched her step around him.

Natalia and Luke maintained eye contact for a moment, each giddy and grinning as they felt the butterflies of something new on the horizon, before Natalia bumped into something solid on her way out and made a face before quickly turning to apologize. She tossed Luke a wave over her shoulder, her own cheeks burning in embarrassment, as she heard his friend mumble, “Wow, she’s perfect for you.”

As she stepped out into the world once more, she grinned at the encounter. It made her lose an hour of writing time - and ruined her favorite dress - but maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d been single for years and hadn’t had any luck with dating apps. She knew that a boyfriend wasn’t the most necessary thing in her life, however, it might be nice to be the girl with a date for once. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Luke was gorgeous.

Whatever the future held for them, she found herself looking forward to it. 

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: If I try to start another series, someone fight me. Like, actually, genuinely fight me. I’m focusing on Rose Tattoo, These Violent Delights, and this. (And MF if I get inspiration but those updates are more sporadic, never meant to be regular, sorry. :() I want to write a few one shots but they’ll likely be shorter and just fun, you know? Not super plot heavy. I may or may not update the next chapter of this sooner than a week because this is kind of short. But, hey, I’ve got all the time in the world because after I defend next week, I’m done with grad school and that’s mildly terrifying. Anyway.  Here we go.

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