#so now she needs to find a way to come up with $1100+ a month and that’s JUST for bills. not food or anything else

[ortanthaig]

Mother in law has been telling us for months that her and father in law can’t wait until we move out. Told her yesterday that we’ll be out in a month, three months max, and are already planning inspections.

Now she’s trying to deter us from moving and wants us to stay 💀💀💀

[mapis-putellas]

Braids

Pairing: Nat x you

Words: 1100

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Natasha had only been together for a few weeks when you ask to braid her hair.

Notes: Yikes. It’s been a while. I’m so sorry. I hope this cute fic makes up for it.

The atmosphere was almost peaceful as both you and Natasha lounged on separate sides of the couch. You were idly watching her from the corner of her eye as she focuses on the laptop screen in front of her, hands distractedly flickering through the pages of the book you were planning on starting.

She was clad in one of your hoodies along with a pair of grey shorts; her hair down and a little mused from the way she would continuously run her hand through it. You often found yourself wondering if it was as soft as it looked. How soft it would feel in between your fingers.

You see, you and Natasha had only been together a little over four weeks, so the tentative relationship you did have was still very new. You'd held hands once or twice. Kissed a few times more. Chaste pecks that never trailed off into anything more. But that was it. No hugs had been given, and you'd yet to know how it felt to hold her body against your own.

Though you longed to hold her in your arms, you found that you didn't quite mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait after all. Well, that and the fact you knew months before you'd started dating that she was a very guarded person, and that wasn't going to change just because the label on what you were was different.

"I can feel you watching me, you know." You hear her speak, and your eyes flicker away from her hair to her face. Her eyes, you notice, remain on her computer screen, but the tiny smile present on her lips does not go amiss.

You sigh contently as you turn in your seat to face her, your back now pressed against the arm of the couch whilst your legs sprawl out in front of you. "Just admiring." You admit, your voice a mere murmur.

Natasha's fingers still on the keyboard of her laptop as her eyes finally meet your own. The emotion in them was undecipherable, just like always, but they do soften at the sight of you sitting before her. You couldn't help but melt slightly at the sight as you reach over to the coffee table and set down the book you never did get the chance to open.

Eyes once again meeting her own, you finally bring yourself to ask the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since you'd sat down.

"Can I braid your hair?"

You brace yourself for the rejection, but much to your dismay, it doesn't come. At least, not straight away. Natasha simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape as though she was attempting find a plausible answer to your question.

She clears her throat, eyes flickering away from you for just a moment before they return.

"Braid my hair?" She seems to finally find her voice, the sound of it alone making your heart race.

You nod, swallowing the sudden tightness in your own throat. Natasha stares at you for a little moment longer before she nods. It was just once, almost unnoticeable, but it was all the confirmation you needed. With more confidence than you felt, you let one of your legs fall to the floor and pat the now open space in between them.

Natasha hesitates for only a second before she was setting down her laptop and scooting herself towards you. As she settles, you place your hands on either side of her waist in a silent question. It was only when she nods again do you tug her backwards just slightly, the insides of your thighs now settled snuggly on either side of her hips.

"Good?" You question in a mere murmur, and she vocalises her agreement with a soft hum as your hands begin combing through her hair. It wasn't necessarily tangled, but you didn't want to accidentally snag any loose strands like you tended to do with your own hair. Soon, you'd parted the top her hair into three thin strands in preparation to start the intended dutch braid.

A comfortable silence seems to settle upon you, and you can't help but smile softly when you feel Natasha's hands rest almost tentatively on each of your thighs. You risk a gentle kiss against the back of her head, immediately rewarded by the feeling of her body relaxing completely against you.

"Nearly done." You reluctantly break the silence as your fingers begin to quickly finish the braid, and Natasha hums in acknowledgment as you grab the hair tie off of your wrist and secure it with ease. As you bring your now unoccupied hands back down to your lap, you watch as one of Natasha's own rises to feel the top of her head. It lingers for just a second before a satisfied hum escapes her lips.

"Dutch?" She questions knowingly, and you smirk slightly as you nod your head and place another kiss to the back of her head.

"Good guess." You muse, and Natasha looks back at you with a smirk of her own.

"It wasn't a guess." She tells you simply as her head settles against your shoulder.

"You're just that good huh?" You tease, craning your head slightly to you were more or less face to face with her.

"Damn right." Natasha smirks as she leans forward to affectionately graze the tip of her nose against your cheek, the appendage scrunching up cutely when you press a gentle kiss to it, and you roll your eyes fondly as your arms settle around her waist.

Tight enough for her to feel secure, but loose enough that should she choose leave your arms, she could do so without issue.

Your heart races when Natasha settles her hands atop of your own, choosing wisely to ignore the way they tremble slightly with what you could only assume was nerves. Instead, you simply press your lips against her forehead hoping to alleviate whatever fear may be there.

"Nobody likes a smart ass." You murmur as you pull away.

"No?" Natasha grins slyly as she turns herself in your arms so she was more or less cradled. You accept the change of position with ease, keeping one of your arms beneath her whilst the other loops around her stomach to meet the other that had come to rest on her hip. "You like me."

You sigh heavily in fake exasperation, "Unfortunatel-Hey! What was that for?!"

**

I hope you enjoyed 😊

[poledancingdinos]

If It’s Gonna Be There Anyway

Pairing: Captain Syverson X Female Reader

Word Count: 1100

Warnings: established relationship/cohabitation, horny, embarrassment, angst/comfort, lactation kink/pregnancy kink, possible illness

A/N: I was reading through my WIPs and found this random thing I had started months ago as a way of coping with a rather awkward medical appointment. I know this is hyper specific for a reader-insert but that’s just how it worked out as I was writing so yeah

Masterlist

Taglist : @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67​

​​You had noticed Sy getting more and more forward with his advances as the week progressed. You hadn’t let him take you to bed in over a week, always finding some kind of reason to put it off. The problem was, Sy knew your body better than you did and tonight, he’d pulled out all of his little tricks to get you in the mood.

For a moment, you’d almost managed to forget what had made you so distant in the first place. That was, until Sy finally had gotten you into bed, both stripped down to your underwear.

Sy had his large paws on your breasts and his lips trailed down your neck to settle on your nipples, causing a gasp to escape your lips. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, his hands squeezing gently before he abruptly pulled back and ceased all his attention.

"What the fuck is that?"

Your eyes shot open, remembering your little predicament. Shit.

"It's nothing!" Your voice was so panicked that your words actually came out as a squeak.

You managed to pull your leg out from under Sy and rolled off the bed, picking your robe up from off the floor as you raced towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, sure you're running away because it's nothin',” he called after you.

Sy huffed, sitting stock still, his mind processing what he’d just experienced. He pushed himself up, moving to lean against the frame of the en-suite door.

“Was that… was that milk? Bug, are you—" he voice trailed off when his tone became progressively more excited.

"Don't even ask me that, you know I'm on birth control,” you grumbled through the door. You wanted kids. One day. But not now. You weren’t ready and Sy knew as much.

"Yeah, well nothin' is 100% effective,” he pointed out. You didn’t respond. Sy chewed on his lip as he tried to gain a grip on his thoughts and formulate a proper sentence.

“Bug… Have you been hidin' the fact that you're pregnant?" It was the pain in his voice that made you open the door. Sy’s biggest dream since meeting you had always been to settle down and have a family. He’d agreed you would wait until you were both ready but you knew that if it happened before then he would still be overcome with excitement. To hear that joy turn to sorrow just at the sound of your distress made your heart break.

You unlocked the bathroom door, slowly pulling it open. You’d slipped your robe over your practically naked form. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you made your way back to the bed. Sy frowned when you took an extra step to the side, making sure you wouldn’t brush against him.

"No, that's not it,” you finally answered with a sigh. “My medication is making me produce milk,” you admitted, hiding your face in your hands.

"When did ya find this out?" You hadn’t noticed him settling on the mattress next to you. He was damn light on his feet for such a large man.

"Maybe a week ago?" 

"That’s why you've been so skiddish ‘round me?"

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hide things from you. I was just really freaked out at first so I made an appointment with my doctor, then she made me milk myself in front of her and talked about having to do a blood test and maybe some scans —and you know how much I hate blood tests— and then there’s the little issue of milk coming out of my body."

"I thought ya said it was your meds causin’ the problem. Why do ya need blood tests and scans?"

Sy's hand wrapped around your wrist, gently moving it aside to reveal your face.

"Bug, are ya sick?" 

"I don't think so. But I don't actually know."

Sy's eyebrows were knitted together, worry obvious across his face. His eyes were pleading with you to explain what was going on.

"The blood test is to see if the medication is really the cause. If the blood tests come back negative then she needs to check me for cancer and that kind of stuff."

"No... Bug, I—"

You cut him off before his mind got the best of him.

"She's 99% sure it's just the meds. The other tests would just be a precaution."

He sighed in relief and pulled you to him, making you settle on his lap with your legs straddling his thighs. He immediately buried his bearded face in the crook of your neck and held your waist so tightly you were crushed against the expanse of his chest.

"I can't lose ya, Bug."

"I'm probably not even sick," you answered, stroking his head and neck.

"I don't just mean like that. Don't hide things from me, even if it's embarrassin' or scary. I don't ever want ya to feel like some things are off limits. I hated it this week when I'd so much as hug ya from behind to give ya a kiss and you'd run off like a spooked deer."

"I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I'll come to you the next time something happens."

He nodded against your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. Sy pulled away, a small smile finally returning to his face.

"So, tell me, how long do ya think the milk’ll be there?"

"I guess as long as I'm on that medication. My doctor said that it would stay longer if I make it come out because then I'm signaling to my body to make more."

Sy hummed in understanding, his eyes flickering down to the opening of your robe. The tie had come loose, showing off your cleavage. Sy slipped his index below the silky fabric, letting his knuckles trail down your skin and over the swell of your breast until he reached your belt. With one gentle tug, your robe fell open, leaving you on display.

“So, if it’s gonna be there anyway,” he said, placing kisses down your neck between words, “‘cause you need those meds and if this isn’t dangerous then I don’t see it as a valid reason to stop ‘em — does that mean I don’t have to be careful about makin’ it come out?”

“Oh my god, you like it don’t you?”

Sy pulled back with a guilty smirk, pushing the robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

“Well, if this is as close to pregnant you as I can get right now then I’ll fuckin’ take it.”

[toshisurtsdottir]

Begging

Prompt: Severus Snape has to teach the Slytherins how to dance for the Yule Ball. Desperate to find a way out, he asks his colleague Toshi Surtsdottir to teach them.

I read a post that said Severus had to teach the Slytherins how to dance and got inspired to write this little one shot hahah! Words: 1100 Warnings: None

Toshi sat in her office, grading papers she had collected in her previous class. She was listening to classical music on her gramophone, humming along when suddenly her door swung open, and an angry looking Severus stormed inside. Toshi flicked her wand without looking up, the door closing behind Severus. Before he could say a word and explain himself, Toshi raised her wand, indicating for him to stay quiet. She finished writing and placed her red pencil and wand down before slowly looking up at him.

“Knocking beforehand is the polite way to enter a room.” She said calmly, mimicking him. Whenever she entered his office, he would have something to complain about. That she didn’t wait for his “come in”, that she didn’t wipe her feet (there was nothing to wipe her feet on, he just wanted to get on her nerves) or that she had slammed the door shut. So now she was returning the favour.

She leaned back in her chair and took him in. She found he looked stunning as always, although that was something she would take to her grave. Other than that, he looked as if he was in distress.

He was about to say something when suddenly his eyebrows furrowed even more than usually. “Are you wearing one of my cloaks?” He hissed, leaning forward, and reaching out to inspect the material. He held on to it tightly, rudely tugging her towards him.

Toshi grinned and shrugged, snatching the fabric out of his hand and wiping non-existent dust off the cloak. “I was cold. Why are you here?”

Severus straightened up again and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. She knew he wanted something from her, otherwise he would have made her give him his cloak back already.

“I need you to practice the dance for the Yule Ball with my students.” He sighed and sat down in front of her desk, on the chair that she had put there for him months ago. When Severus had decided to visit her office more often and she got tired of him standing around awkwardly, she had finally given in and brought in a second chair.

Toshi laughed at his proposal, shaking her head. “Oh Sev, absolutely not.” She giggled and crossed her legs.

Severus looked at her with such pleading eyes, she wondered if dancing with his students was worse for him than Order meetings.

“I can’t do this Toshi. I would rather… I would rather die.” He groaned. He earned himself a raised eyebrow. “These students are imbeciles. They are sweaty and full of pimples. They smell awful and I don’t want their grabby hands anywhere near me. They can’t even brew the simplest potions on their own, how am I expected to stay calm when trying to teach them to dance?”

That was a good point. Although she had a weak spot for Severus, which again, she would never admit, she knew that he was a horrible teacher. She felt for the poor Slytherins who would have to endure dance lessons with him.

She left him hanging for a while, pretending to think about it for a long time. She tapped her red pencil against her lower lip, looking up at the ceiling as if she was deep in thought.

“Toshi.” He sighed.

She finally gave in to him.

“Fine I’ll do it. But you owe me one.” She smirked and held out her hand to him. Severus breathed out in relief, taking her hand.

“Thank you so much. This eases my-“

But Toshi was already shaking his hand, a mischievous grin forming on her face.

“I TAKE IT BACK!” He yelled, but it was too late already. They had shaken hands.

“You will go on a field trip with me and the first graders.” She gave his cold hand a mocking squeeze before letting go.

“I despise you.” He hissed, dark eyes piercing through her.

“Of course, you do. Tea?” She smiled and got up, his cloak dragging behind her on the floor as she went to prepare two cups for them.

 -------------------------------------------

“Now, remember not to touch anything unless Mr. Ollivander allows you to. Listen carefully and make sure that each group has a completed sheet at the end of the day. If you behave, we can all go and have ice cream later.” The children cheered when they heard that. “Should any of you decide to act out or not do as you are told, Professor Snape will take you back to the castle and the field trip will be over for you. I want that to be clear.” Toshi raised an eyebrow. The children fell silent, some of them nodding.

Severus was standing behind Toshi, arms crossed. Even though he had owed her this, it took a lot of coaxing from Toshi to actually get him to come with her. Minerva had placed a bet on whether he would come with her or not, so now Toshi had a bowl of cookies standing in her office.

“Now, when we enter Ollivander’s, I want you all to spread out a little so that everyone can hear and see him.” Toshi said before opening the door to the shop. When all the kids had entered, she still held the door open, grinning at Severus who reluctantly walked inside. He eyed her playfully, his foot kicking hers as he walked past and into the building. She chuckled quietly and closed the door behind them. She placed a foot on Sev’s cloak, making him stumble ever so slightly. The look he gave her when she passed by him was deadly.

Luckily, none of the kids would act out. Toshi had ordered Sev to stand behind a group of kids she knew would most likely cause trouble. She had to admit, having him with her made her job much easier.

They thanked Ollivander for his time once their little visit was over, the kids having learned all kinds of stuff about wands and wand-making. Toshi had ordered them to follow her in pairs of two, with Sev watching over them from behind. Everyone was cueing to get their ice cream at a nearby shop, chatting happily when Severus walked up next to Toshi. He looked exhausted, about 30 years older than he actually was. This man should really not be teaching, she thought. She bought two ice cream cones, wordlessly handing one to Severus. He took it reluctantly, clearly not having expected her to buy one for him as well.

“Thanks for helping me, you old grump.” She smirked. Severus just rolled his eyes and started eating his ice cream.

“We��re quit now.” He shrugged, softly elbowing her in the side.

“You mean for now.” Toshi winked at him.

[parkers-gal]

breaking the internet... again T.H.

summary : baby holland breaks the internet (requested)

wc: 1100

part one

—

Twelve days ago, baby Scarlet Holland was born. The process left you both healthy, and you and Tom could not be happier, but people would start to notice you without your bump and instead with a baby attached to you.

"Tommy!" you called.

"Coming," He said, bringing in some hot chocolate to where you were seated on the bed. Scarlet had a crib set up next to your bed, despite having a nursery. She used it, of course, but during the day, you felt better when she was close.

"I was thinking," You said. "We should.. tell our fans about Scarlet."

Tom nearly spilled his drink when the words left your mouth. "Love..." he started. "You know what happened last time we announced something baby-related."

"Yeah, yeah!" You puffed, chuckling. "But I need to leave the house some time!"

"It's safer if you-"

"I can't even go on a walk?" You asked, pouting. "Tommy, I know with the covid and everything, it's safe for us at home, but there's nobody around when we take walks -- except for the paps!"

Tom laughed at you, running his fingers through his curls as he nodded along with you. "You're right," he concluded. "When should we?"

"Right now."

Tom rolled his eyes playfully before taking his phone out of his pocket. You had picked yours up off of the nightstand, before the both of you decided which pictures to post.

"I hope you know you're not gonna be able to use your phone for the next couple 'f hours," he said, breathing out a laugh.

"I doubt that's gonna happen again," you said. "Lemme see your phone."

And then you were prepping his post. You captioned it "Project completed✅🤍👼" before handing him his phone back. When you were certain both posts were ready, you were counting down again, just like you had months prior.

"Now!" You both said, giggling as you each hit the send button before tapping out of the apps and shutting off your phones.

"Now we wait," Tom smiled to you, grabbing your hand and kissing the top of it. The action made you blush, and you could only nod in agreement.

***

Only three hours had passed, but Harrison was knocking at your door.

"Thomas!" he said, coming in. You had come downstairs to see the boys in the kitchen, and you sat on the counter watching them. "You guys broke the fucking internet! Again!"

"Wha-" you started, but Haz kept going.

"A heads up would've been nice! Remember? My games!" He said, jokingly angry.

Tom's eyes were wide -- as were yours-- as the both of exchanged a glance before ultimately laughing at Harrison.

"I'm sure it's just Instagram, H," You said.

"Yeah," Tom agreed, leading him to the door. "Now, go exercise or something. Take a break from your phone," Tom said, shutting the door and turning around hug you.

You two were slightly swaying, your face in the crook of his neck as he held you close.

"I really love you."

"I really love you," you said back.

***

About an hour later, Sam had called Tom.

"'Ey, mate," he started. "Erm- I don't know if Harry told you, but the Brother's Trust website is down... again."

Tom sighed, "What? What happened this time?"

"It crashed.. again."

"I thought we reprogrammed it so that it wouldn't crash again."

"Well.. we did. But there's so many people on it, and so many people trying to get on it, that we can't actually fix it until the load lightens."

"So what, it's just gonna stay down?"

Sam forced out a laugh," Yeah, man. We can't do anything about it, right now."

"Alright," Tom said. "Thanks for letting me know."

And then, Tom was making his way back to you. You had a questioning look on your face, and Tom answered your silent question.

"Website's down again."

"Ohhh," you said, ruffling his hair as he laid on you, hiding his face in your neck. "My, uh, my merch site went down too, and my main streaming website."

Tom looked up at you, before returning to his position and laughing from your collarbone. You were laughing with him, too.

"My manager is freaking out," you went on. "She's hilarious when she's trying to do everything at once."

"Mhmm," Tom said, leaving messy kisses on your neck. "When do you wanna check the socials?"

"Right now?" You said.

Tom mumbled out an agreement, but made no move to get up. You only laughed at him, deciding to wait a little longer.

***

It was six o'clock by the time you two checked your phones.

"Holy shit, Tom. I've got 35 million likes," you laughed at the number.

"My followings went up by seven million," he replied, laughing along.

"Oh, lemme check-" but you cut yourself off, because the app had kicked you out. You glanced to Tom, to find the same confused expression that fitted your face. "Oh no."

"We couldn't- no, we don't have that much- it couldn't have happened again!" Tom finally finished, frustrated at his stumbles and stutters.

"Tom, I think we-"

"No! Nope!"

"But Tommy-"

"I said no!"

"But-"

"No!"

"I just-"

"Y/N stop it!" he whined, falling into your embrace and once again hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You laughed at him, despite Tom's whine about it.

"Such a big baby," you said, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

"'M not," he grumbled.

"Are too."

"Am not," he said, nuzzling further into you.

You giggled again, rubbing his shoulders. "Tommy?"

"Mm?"

"We broke the internet again."

***

The next morning, the two of you had woken up in hopes that the apps and websites would be up and running again. Your new, limited-time-only merch that had just released was sold out and , unfortunately, backed up your website again.

Tom's Brother's Trust plan for a virtual interview had been postponed because the website just wasn't cooperating. Tom wasn't too bothered, but you supposed he'd never hear the end of it from his brother's. They were due round next week, so you'd find out.

Instagram was up and running, but quite slow. Your excitement blocked out any frustration from the app, and Tom was not different. The two of you were excited to see what the fan's had said.

A few read:

OH MY GOD BABY HOLLAND!!!!!💛

TOM IS A DADDY NOW??? MY HEARTAIHUFAGIU❤️❤️😩😩

Congratulations🥺🥺🥺

Y/N !! A MOM!! I CANNOT HANDLE THIS INFORMATION

lets discuss who the baby is gonna look like.. tommy or y/n???? xxx

You giggled at the responses, hearting and replying to the ones you wanted. Tom was doing the same, replying to his castmates and school friends. You had done the same, a few artists who had previously done collabs with you --or wrote and produced songs for you-- commenting and tweeting their replies.

"Love," Tom said. "They say she'll look more like me."

You gasped dramatically before clutching your chest like your heart was physically hurting. "Well," you breathed out. "They think she'll have my voice."  

Tom's jaw hit the floor at your response. "Y/N!"

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI || MANGO

↳ featuring : itadori yuji from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 03 february 

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.3k

↳ synopsis : you and itadori are about to finsh your date with a meal at a restaurant that itadori has been dying to take you to. however, while discussing what you both are planning to order, you both suddenly managed to become face to face with each other.

↳ request : I've always been too shy to request but here we go! Can I order a Yuji x reader romantic first kiss? Like it's both their first kiss and it happens unexpectedly but very cute. I hope this is fine😅 Love your writing❤ Have a good day and stay hydrated❤❤

↳ barista’s notes : so, as you can see, i suck at synopsises ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ but this is the first imagine of the month and it includes the main character of jujutsu kaisen: itadori yuji! i hooe you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please don’t be shy to order again soon ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

“I went to this restaurant with Fushiguro and Kugisako before you came and it was amazing!” Itadori exclaimed as he smiled brightly at you causing you to reciprocate the action back to him as if his bright nature was somehow radiating itself to you.

“Is it? I remember Fushiguro telling me something about you guys going to a Chinese restaurant, is it this one?” you casually asked, as you suddenly began to recall the time when Fushiguro muttered something about craving Tan-men after a mission leading you to ask him what he was on about.

“Yeah, that one! It’s really good even though the meat Dango is really expensive, can you believe it’s 1100 yen?” Itadori complained, leading you to laugh since his face was displaying an expression of complete shock.

At this moment in time, you and Itadori were walking through the streets of Tokyo hand in hand after spending the whole day in the arcade playing random machine games, trying competitively hard to stock up on as many tickets as possible. It was surprising since you both rarely had any free time to go on any dates due to your lives as jujutsu sorcerers at Tokyo Metropolitian Curse Technical College meaning this date was actually your fifth one now that you thought about it.

‘It’s strange that we've been on so little dates yet seem like a normal long-term couple ha?’

“Y/N, we’re here!” Itadori excitedly announced, leading you to snap out of your quick daze before being guided to the menu that was brightly displayed in front of the small but busy Chinese restaurant that you had mentioned earlier.

“This is a really long menu,” you muttered quietly, as your eyes widened at the multitude of choices you had right in front of you. There were many types of dishes waiting to be chosen, from rice dishes, classic noodles dishes and even street food that you rarely see being prepared in Japan, leading your eyes to widen more at the sight. “But I’m not really surprised since it is quite common for Chinese restaurants to have such a large menu. I wonder how the cooks remember all the dishes they make?” you questioned, leading to your cheerful boyfriend to turn his head to the side to look at you before slowly smiling at the adorable sight of one of your hands holding your chin, as you continued to scan the display to choose when to order.

Itadori remembered the day you arrived in Tokyo to finally enrol in Jujutsu Tech. You came a day after Kugisaki did - much to her glee since that meant she wasn’t the only female in the group now - and he was surprised when he learned you were from the Kyoto side leading to his friend, Fushiguro to question on why you didn’t enrol that side of the school. However, he didn’t remember what you had stated since he was so entranced in your beauty the second you stepped out of the station leading him to nearly forget to introduce himself to you - he still remembers the light giggle you gave him when you caught him in the flustered moment.

“Babe, I’m going for the Tan-men, what are you getting?” you suddenly asked, leading Itadori to snap out of his daydream trace before he came to the sudden realisation of what you had just referred him to which caused a light pink hue to shyly appear on his face.

“Wait Tan-men? That’s what Fushiguro ordered last time,” Itadori stated, leading you to nod at his statement as you then explained that Fushiguro recommended it to you since he really was a fan of the chopped ginger that came with the broth and you were dying to try it ever since he had mentioned it since he gave it such a hyped review from his non-chantant tone - it was surprising that he had convinced you to get it.

“I’m going to get a large Chinese soba,” the salmon-haired boy then informed you as he turned to the menu and pointed at his option, causing you to look at him in astonishment since from what you could see from the picture on the menu displayed in front of you, the large portion size seemed bigger than the size of your face. However, you weren’t too much in shock since this was Itadori you were talking to, his strength must have come from somewhere but you couldn’t help but question his choice.

“Are you sure? It is quite a large portion,” you told him in a concerned tone as you looked up at him, leading to your boyfriend to laugh slightly as he then explained, “I ordered the same thing last time and I was craving it so bad that I had to get it again.” to which then he slowly turned his head to look at you.

However, when he fully turned his head to look down at you, his eyes suddenly widened as well as yours. You didn’t realise how close you were to him, which resulted in the tip of your nose to touch your boyfriend’s, but you couldn’t pull back at all. It was as if you both were the opposite ends of a magnet that was attracted to each other, desperately itching to come closer and closer together to finally touch.

Slowly, Itadori’s bright brown eyes began to look down at you lips, he only just noticed the hint of shine they had to them due to the lip balm you had put on while you and him were making your way to the restaurant. 

What flavour was it again? 

Cherry? Nah, that’s too stereotypical.

Strawberry? Can’t be, the balm wasn’t pink.

Wait, what colour was it again? 

“Can...I?” Itadori hesitantly asked, leading you to shyly nod your head as you didn’t trust your words at all at this point. Steadily, Itadori began to lean closer to you causing you to pull in all your strength to make your head stay still since you didn’t want to miss the chance at all.

Slowly but surely, Itadori’s lips met with your leading you to slowly close your eyes, trying to savour the feeling of your first kiss with the boy in front of you. Suddenly, your felt something warm steadily being placed on your cheek, leading you to place your hand on top of it, only to find that it was Itadori’s hand causing the warmth that was given to you by his hand to become increasingly hot as the hint of embarrassment and desire within your heart became evident as you used your other hand to grip on to his jacket to keep the attraction of your lips on his even if you were gradually losing oxygen.

Regrettably, Itadori had to leisurely pull away allowing the both of you and him to gather the air that was needed to be supplied for your lungs. However, what you didn’t realise was the Itadori took a quick lick on the bottom of his lips causing him to have a slight taste of what your lips were coated in.

“Mango?” he suddenly questioned, leading you to look at Itadori with a questionable look before instantly coming to the realisation on what he was on about.

“Oh! It’s the new Glossier mango balm that I got with Kugisaki when we went out together,” you answered, as you rummaged through your bag to pull out the said item before continuing with, “they were doing a deal of getting two mango’s and choose two more for half price, so I got rose and Kugisaki chose the other one.”

Nodding at your explanation with a bright smile on his face, Itadori grabbed your hand and pulled you into the restaurant that might have seen the romantic act from the small window at the front. However, that somehow didn’t affect the both of you even when there was evidence of the rosy cheeks on both of your expressions.

“Mango suits you Y/N, you should wear it more often!”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[nessinborderland]

Daddy’s Girl Wins Again

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1100

Summary: Niragi wakes up to his daughter crying by his side.

Warnings: dad!Niragi, family feelings

Notes: Part 3 of ‘Do I Know You?’ and ‘ Família’! Inspired by this amazing, fluffy and heartwarming post by @maliceinborderland​

“Daddy...” says a small voice right in Niragi’s ear, “Daddy, wake up.” He turns on his bedside lamp to see his four-year-old daughter standing by his side, teary-eyed and clutching her favorite plushy. He doesn’t even have to ask what’s wrong; it has been the same thing almost every night for weeks now.

He stands up as carefully as he can, trying not to wake you or the newborn baby sleeping just a few meters away. He picks up his sniffling child, the little girl automatically putting her arms around his neck. He silently makes his way to the bedroom right across from yours, where your daughter has been sleeping - or trying to - for the past month and a half. 

“Nightmares again?” he asks, sitting down on her bed with the child still pressed against his chest. The little girl nods with a whimper, looking up at her dad with big dark eyes that look so much like his own.

“And there’s a monster in my closet too, Daddy,” she says with a pout. He tries to control a smile, knowing what comes next, “I can’t sleep here.” 

“Of course you can, princess.” the arms around his neck tighten. He sighs, kissing the top of her head. “Daddy already slaughtered all the monsters.”

“But– but–” she looks at him again, lips trembling. He hugs her as she starts crying, wetting his pajamas with tears and snot. He lets her cry for some time, already guessing what’s on her mind. 

“Wanna tell Daddy why you’re really like this?” he asks after she calms down. She shakes her head, face still pressed against him. He pats and rubs her small back in a sooting gesture, lips on her temple as he hums a familiar song. The same song he used to sing to her when she was a baby, laying on his chest and little fist gripping his thumb; he finds himself missing those days every time he lays eyes on his fast-growing daughter.

“You and Mommy don’t love me anymore…” he hears her whisper after a beat. His eyes go wide.

“Of course we do, you’re our baby girl.” he knew she was upset by the new changes, but he didn’t think that that was going through her mind. Things made more sense now. “Why would you think that?”

“You– you like the new baby more, now,” he feels his heart break at her words. The last thing he wants is for his kids to feel unloved, “You don’t sing to me anymore, and you don’t play with me anymore, and– and you don’t let me sleep in your bed anymore and–” she sobs, hugging him like she’s afraid he will disappear. He hugs her back just as strong.

“We don’t love the new baby more, princess,” he whispers as he smooths her dark hair. Things have been extra hard since the new baby’s arrival, but he still makes sure to spend time with his daughter. It clearly isn’t enough. He wonders if this is the first of his many mistakes as a father, “We love you both the same, but he needs us more. He’s not big like you.”

“But I want you to be my Daddy only!” she blurts, little fists hitting his chest. “I don’t like the new baby, he cries a lot.”

“But you cry a lot too, don’t you?” Niragi asks with a chuckle. She locks eyes with him, a scowl on her face. It’s so adorable that he has to contain himself not to pinch her little cheeks. She looks so much like you and him that his heart flutters every time he looks at her.

“Then I won’t cry anymore!” she sniffs, getting very serious all of a sudden, “Promise that if I stop crying, you and Mommy will let me sleep in your bed again.” he does laugh at that, and her pout gets even bigger. “Promise me, Daddy!” she demands, little palms on both sides of his face. He’s not sure if she takes more after you or him.

“Hmm,” he makes a pause, “How about Daddy stays here with you until you fall asleep?” she shakes her head, clearly unsatisfied with his offer. “I’ll sing for you…” she shakes her head again, “...and read you a story?”

“No,” she says. There’s a brief moment where they just stare into each other’s eyes before he finally gives in. It’s not like he can ever deny her anything, even if he could. He knows he should be more strict sometimes, but it physically hurts him to see his daughter unhappy. 

“Fine,” he sighs, “You can fall asleep in our bed.” he hopes she doesn’t notice his choice of words. The smile that grows on her face almost makes his heart melt; she always saves her biggest smiles just for him. 

“And you’ll sing and read for me every night!” she gives an excited little scream while filling his face with kisses. He can’t contain the laugh of pure joy that escapes his lips, hugging his daughter tightly. He can hear your voice in his head, whispering ‘Daddy’s girl’ in a mocking tone; yeah she is his little girl, so what? He only has one, better spoil her rotten.

Moments like this make him realize how lucky he is for having a family that loves him. It’s something that seemed impossible for him not even a decade ago, but not anymore. You showed him that he’s worthy of loving and being loved; he will never be able to fully thank you for that.

He notices you turning as he enters the room, quietly making his way back to bed, your daughter in arms. He puts down the little girl with a low shushing sound, both smiling as she immediately finds comfort under the covers. He soon follows her into bed, turning off the light before putting his arm around both of you. He knows you’re awake when your fingers brush against the back of his hand.

“Daddy,” his daughter whispers. He can’t see her, but she can feel her when she boops her nose against his. “I love you and Mommy very much.” 

He smiles so hard his lips hurt, “I love you too, princess.” he whispers, pressing his lips against her forehead. She lets out a small giggle, before curling against his chest and finally drifting off to sleep.

He’s almost falling asleep himself when he hears you whisper.

“Daddy’s girl wins again.”

He huffs, hand giving a light tap on your backside before he finally falls asleep, a smile on his face.

[dulafer]

REHAB

Another old one where I only posted links to another site. Twin brothers, one with great career and drinking problem. The other fills in for him. It’s long, detailed etc....

The Favor

I haven’t seen my brother Marcus in years but he needs a favor, so of course he called. He didn’t provide any details,  just that he needs a ride to Cleveland, Ohio and for me to watch his car for a few weeks. Marcus is my identical twin, down to a tribal band tattoo we got on spring break in college. Even our initials are identical thanks to our mother’s naming us ‘Michael Robert Thomas’ and ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’. Growing up, our parents could never tell us apart and many times we’d trade places even through college. 

We both graduated from University of Michigan with a degree in marketing but I took a minor in finance. After graduating, he craved the big city, high pay lure of Chicago while I stayed in Ann Arbor working for a trendy web marketing company. We haven’t been close since graduating from college.

Personality wise, let’s just say Marcus is the charming, outgoing twin and I’m more of a wall flower. In high school and college he was always getting the girl, or guy and sharing with me. He’d do all the work and I was happy with sloppy seconds. Many times we dated the same person without them knowing—that’s how identical we are. Nowadays, we talk occasionally and on our birthday. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine, and I keep up with his via his very active Instagram and Twitter accounts. I’ve got enough ‘marketing’ in my life so I’m more of an online stalker, never posting anything.

According to his Instagram, he just got promoted vice president at Coleman Marketing—a very prestigious firm in downtown Chicago. Someone tagged him in videos from last night celebrating his promotion. He’s raking in the money while I just got laid off. Not that I’m worried as I got a nice severance package and have a few leads on jobs. I was head of a marketing department for an automotive trim manufacturer. Truthfully, I was the marketing department completely.

Marcus pulls up to my house just after 7 am looking exhausted getting out of his BMW. It looks like he’s dressed in what he had on last night. He's wearing a great black leather jacket. His hair is gelled and spiky, and he’s clean shaven. I’ve let myself go lately, not shaving in days and no haircut in weeks. I’ll worry about a haircut and shave when I get a job interview. I greet him on the stoop.

“Marcus, when the hell did you leave Chicago? I was expecting you at lunch. Since when do you get up before noon?” I mock him.

“I was on a high, celebrating my promotion and couldn’t get Chad, my boyfriend, to come home with me. So I didn't sleep, packed up my things, jumped in the car and drove right here. Got coffee?”

“Sure, plenty, help yourself. You look beat bro.”

“You look like a bum bro, what’s with the scruff and hair?”  He angrily fires back.

“Using up some vacation time here, getting things done around the house. Love the BMW bro, awesome machine.” I cover for my job loss and change topic.

Marcus walks in, heads straight to the Keurig and makes himself at home. “I just drove 4 hours straight without stopping. You’re driving the rest of the way.”

“Nice, I love BMWs. So what in the hell is in Cleveland, Ohio?  Nothing that I know of.”

“I’ve been court ordered to check into St. Joseph Rehab Center.”

“Jesus, what the fuck did you do?” I act shocked but I’m not. 

“I had an accident, totaled my car and someone else’s, there was alcohol and drugs involved and it’s my fourth offense.”

“Is everyone okay? Are you okay? You look fine?”

“Yeah, other car was parked and empty, My Land Rover crumpled like paper but it really protected me.”

“Wow, you were lucky bro. I always told you—“

“Shut up, I know, I know…. So I go into rehab for a few weeks, get the doc to sign off that I’m fine and no one is the wiser.” He grabs his head like its pounding.

“A few weeks?  Tammy went to rehab for six months!”

“She didn’t have my lawyer.” He boasts.

“So I drop you off, pick you up?”

“That’s it. Keep it quiet, call into work for me Monday, take a few weeks off due to the death of our father.”

“Our father who died seven years ago?”

“Exactly, be all broken up about it. Shed some verbal tears. I have your script written, who to talk to, what to tell them.”

“Why don’t you call them yourself?”

“Once I check in, there’s no phones, computers or visitors allowed.”

“Jeez, sounds like a prison but you’re dressed like you going to a club bro, love the jacket.”

“Yeah, I’m a little over dressed. I came straight from the bar. They said to just bring sneakers, jeans, sweatpants, hoodies and t-shirts. The jacket is Coach, got it a few weeks ago shopping with my boyfriend Chad on the Mag Mile.”

I feel his jacket. “Can I borrow your jacket while you’re locked up.”

“Well, you are driving the rest of the way.” He takes it off, hands it to me and I pull it on over my t-shirt.

“Looks better on me bro.” He snickers at me. “It’s not meant to pair with a t-shirt. Mind if I take a quick shower? I was out all night with friends, haven’t showered yet.”

“Sure go ahead.”

He takes his coffee into my bedroom. The shower turns on while I find the keys for the BMW in his jacket I’m still wearing. I head outside and unlock the sleek black metallic M8 with a stunning red interior. Behind the driver’s seat is his briefcase and in the trunk is a large suitcase. I jump in, hit the start button and she roars to life with a powerful purr. It’s a remarkable car and I can’t wait to drive it.

Back inside I snap a pic of myself and finish up my coffee. Marcus steps out of bedroom, refreshed, wearing a pair of my jeans, a University of Michigan t-shirt and my new Nikes.

“Hope you don’t mind bro. I’ve been in the same clothes since happy hour last night, needed a change.”

“Not a problem, I’ll have my manservant launder and press your clothes.”

“I was sorta overdressed for this place.”

“You think? Now you look like someone with the drinking problem.” I laugh.

“I look like you doofus!” He heads to kitchen and has another cup of coffee. 

I grab my hoodie and toss it to him to wear. “I love this jacket bro, you can wear this. Since you won’t be needing anything this nice in rehab, I’ll just borrow it for a while.” I order him.

“Bro, it’s a $1100 jacket. You're not keeping it.”

“Fuck bro, no wonder it feels so soft.” I feel it more. “What you’re wearing now is more appropriate for the Betty Ford Clinic, or wherever the fuck you’re going.”

While he’s rummaging through my kitchen for something to eat, I head back to my bedroom.  His outfit is tossed on my chair. I quickly strip out of my sweats pants and dress in his clothes. He’s wearing my best sneakers and favorite t-shirt, I want to try out his look on me. I slip into his Polo Chinos, tuck in his dress shirt, fasten the belt, step into his driving shoes, then check myself out in the mirror. I try fixing my hair like Marcus’ but it’s too long.

I walk out to the kitchen, feeling my new pants, his eyes pop out seeing me. “Damn bro, I’ve never worn pants this soft.”

“Polo, all I wear, got them at their flagship store—“

“On the Mile.” I interrupt him, already knowing the answer. “Cole Haan driving shoes? Really? A bit pretentious if you ask me.”

“They match the jacket and belt man plus they’re so comfortable. You’ve been living in bumfuck Michigan too long, shopping at Walmart. You need to get a sense of fashion. You look presentable now though.” He snidely responds.

“What are you talking about ‘Michael’, I have a great fashion sense, just look at me.” I smile, assuming his identity then confidently pull back on his jacket and hand him my baseball caps. 

“Don’t get too comfortable in them, I’ll be back in a few weeks.” Marcus warns me while putting my baseball cap on backwards.

“We’re still identical after 29 years bro.” I look in the mirror seeing a scruffy Marcus staring back, my brother comes up behind to compare.

“You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave. Hey, since you’re the scruffy one, you should do rehab for me.” He jokes.

“In your dreams bro. I’m not the one with the drinking problem.” I shoot him down.

“Whatever ass wipe, you probably can't get a decent drink within 30 miles of here. It’s no wonder you don’t drink. I can take an elevator from my office on the 19th, up to the 95th floor, to the best bar in all of Chicago.” Marcus brags, thinking I’m impressed.

“Oh I drink but not to the point of not getting home, almost killing myself and getting a DUI. You’re the pathetic one.” 

“Whatever bro, just remember—dad’s death, then vacation time to get his affairs in order. I have plenty of time to do this without anyone finding out.”

“So call into work for you, lie to them, drive your car around and pick you up in two weeks. Easy.”

“That’s it, by the way, you’re driving since I’m not legally able to. Keys are in my jacket” I pull them out and toss them in the air.

“Great! Just great. Guess I should be grateful I’m not bailing you out of jail.”

Road Trip

We leave Ann Arbor and he talks the entire trip about his accident, how he was drunk and high, driving home from Chad’s place, paying an expensive lawyer, promotion at work, buying this new BMW cash and how he’s going to change. I’ve heard this since college. He’s so self absorbed that I barely talk about myself and don’t mention my job loss or hunt.  I’m actually very jealous—his career is exploding even with his fuck ups and mine is imploding. I feel like a loser but driving this new BMW, in his expensive clothes, at least I look like a winner.

As is typical for Marcus, his coffee consumption has me pulling over at a rest stop on i80 not even an hour after leaving my house. I glance in the vanity mirror and start fussing with my hair, thinking of his comment. He’s right, we’re still identical—a haircut and shave would make us indistinguishable. I could have fun as him for a few weeks I think to myself and grin. His phone rings while I’m sitting in the car waiting, so I answer it.

“Hello?”

“Marcus, are you on your way? You’ve got to check in by noon today.” ID shows Stephen Backes.

“Yeah, I’m making good time, according to GPS, I’ll be there about 11am.”

“Please tell me you’re not driving.”

“No, a friend is driving me.”

“Okay, so I have some bad news for you. The judge didn’t agree to two weeks like I thought he would. You’ll be there three to four months, sorry man.” This has to be Marcus’ high price lawyer. “I’m so sorry. Are you there?”

“Fuck!!” Is all I could say while thinking of me needing a job.

“Believe me, we’ll get you out sooner, I won’t stop fighting for you. I’m pushing for a reduction already.”

“So what can  I do?” I’m stunned as Marcus will be.

“There’s nothing you can do. Check in today, do all they say and don’t make a scene. I’ll keep in contact via the staff there. I can’t visit and you can’t call out. Get yourself clean. On the bright side, the Alexanders aren’t pressing charges for the property damage, which is great news.”

“Silver lining.” I mutter.

“Okay, don’t worry, I'll get you out in no time.” He hangs up.

I sit there as a crazy thought forms in my mind—Marcus away for three months. I need something to do and who knows about his rehab stint? It’d be fun to step into his life for a while. We did it all the time growing up and in College. During summer break just before graduating from college, we traded places for a few months. He went to Daytona Beach with my boyfriend while I stayed home and partied as him. It worked out great because I was sick of Jonathan’s flaming personality. Marcus’s boyfriend was hot and he was bored with him. It was a great summer being my douche brother, fucking his boyfriend, partying with his friends and living his life. I didn’t want to swap back. Even our parents never figured it out, we were so identical. I stare in the vanity mirror and check myself out, turning my head from side to side, playing with my hair. I’m certain I can pull it off. Just then the car door opens up, Marcus jumps in and startles me.

“Lets get moving bro, I need to be there before lunch.” 

“We’ve got plenty of time. So who at work knows about your DUI and rehab visit?” I start to question him to make sure I can step into his life.

“No one, not even my best friend Jason or my boyfriend Chad know. I just got a huge promotion and Coleman was not happy with my last DUI. This one I managed to keep quiet but if I get caught, bye bye career. I called my lawyer right away and was out in hours. I told everyone I bought the BMW to celebrate my promotion, not because I totaled my Range Rover.”

“So you’ll just tell them you’re taking care of dad’s affairs, email them a few times over the next few weeks and no one knows.” I question him.

“Oh fuck, bro, never thought of it that way. I’ll be cut off from the world. You’ll have to check my email and answer my phone for me too, respond to some of them. Tell them you’re having a hard time with mom and she doesn’t have internet or good cell service in northern Michigan. Just adopt my bullshit attitude and tell em you’ll get back to them.”

The more he talks, the easier it’s getting to pull this deception off.  “Wow, you haven’t thought this through. Where is your computer? Log in? Phone?” Gathering pieces of his life if I want to go through with this game.

“I didn’t have much time, my lawyer called last night during happy hour, told me to get to Cleveland today. Work computer and files are in the briefcase right behind you. Password is first 4 letters of our last name and last 4 numbers of my social security, 1785. Got it?” He points to the iPhone charging on the center console.

“You better write that down.” I propose. He reaches behind me, grabs the portfolio from his briefcase and starts jotting down notes in it. 

“What if someone calls about something specific, like an account or proposal?” I fake concern for more details.

“They’re all on my desktop in folders. You’ll have to email the Ballis Automotive powerpoint to Gary McClintock on Monday so he can handle presentation for me.”

“You always do this Marcus. One little favor blows up into a cluster fuck, just like one little drink for you.”

“I promise this will be easy. I start the position Monday, there is a great marketing team to manage, it’ll run itself for a few weeks. They’ll feel bad contacting me during such tragic times.” He laughs at his deviousness. 

He continues to talk the rest of the way, filling me in on his career, telling me what I should be doing, and bragging about his success.  He’s quite in love with himself, talking about his recent bonus, how his $2,000,000 condo is now worth $2,500,000, and his $500,000 salary. I know I can do his job in a heartbeat based on our discussion.

When we get off the Cleveland exit I pull over for gas. He has to use the bathroom again but I put my hand out for his wallet. 

“Wallet, PIN number?” I ask.

“0394.” He gives it to me without hesitating but it’s the same PIN he’s been using since college. 

I fill the tank and jump back in, tucking his wallet in my back pocket where he keeps it. 

We make excellent time, getting there at 11:00 am. He grabs his suitcase from the trunk and we head in. The receptionist just stares at us.

“I’m Marcus Thomas, checking in.” He walks up to the receptionist. 

“Yes Mr. Thomas, we’re expecting you. Welcome to St. Joseph Clinic, please fill out these forms. We need to check your bags for any substances. Also we discourage any valuables as things tend to go missing or are used to bribe staff.” A bright energetic nurse greets us. 

He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.

“Here, take these, put them in my car.” He removes his watch and ring, and I put them in my pocket.

“I have your wallet.” I pull it out of my pocket.

“You won’t need a penny here Mr. Thomas. In fact we keep your wallet and money locked up to discourage any sorts of bribes. I just need to verify your ID.” The nurse says.

I open his wallet and hand her his ID. She hands it back to me and Marcus waves it away for me to keep it. They have Marcus fill out some forms and he puts me down as emergency contact person. Security rummages through his bag, pulling everything out and even checking the lining. While he is signing things, I take out my phone and sneak pics of his hair, making sure to zoom in on all sides. 

“Okay Michael, thanks for the ride. Take care of my baby. Everything for Monday morning is in my briefcase. Cya soon.” A large male nurse grabs his luggage and escorts him to his room. 

Heading Home?

Walking out to the BMW, I reach in my pocket and feel my brother’s watch and ring, then feel his wallet in my back pocket. In the car, I flip down the vanity mirror and start playing with my hair again, then adjust it down to admire my outfit. It would be the ultimate deception to step into his life like I did in college—fucking Chad, doing his job, fooling his friends and spending his money. All his personal belongings are in my possession. Marcus even said so himself “You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave.”

I grab his phone and the facial recognition opens it right up for ‘Marcus’. His entire life is in my fingertips. I scroll through his calendar, texts, email and social media. His schedule is full of meetings and appointments, including the Ballis Automotive presentation coming up on Friday.  Twitter and Facebook are filled with political rants and chats with friends. Instagram is full of pics of his recent work promotion celebrations. There are videos of him suited up, celebrating in a conference room yesterday, and more at some bar late last night wearing this exact outfit. No wonder he looked like crap this morning. I respond to some of the comments with various emojis as Marcus would, knowing his twisted sense of humor.

After 10 minutes of sitting in the parking lot, I start driving back—straight to Chicago. I haven’t been to his place in almost three years after he moved in and wanted to show it off. His GPS has his home address set for me. It’ll be fun to step into his life for a few months and assume his identity. He’ll be pissed but it’s an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ll frame it as saving his career when he finds out months from now.

A few miles down the road I spot a ‘Great Clips’ hair salon in a strip mall and pull in without hesitating. They’re not busy and get me in right away. Using the pics from my phone, I ask for the same haircut. A young girl cuts my hair, shaves me, adds creme to my hair, and completely transforms me into Marcus. I stare in the mirror, grin then casually rake my hand through my hair per my brother’s habit. I feel my clean shaven face and the back of my neck. It’s perfect and I tip her heavily from my new wallet. I pull on my new Coach jacket and check myself out in the bathroom before leaving the salon. From my pockets, I pull out my brother’s ring and watch and put them on. I look exactly like Marcus did when he walked into my house earlier today. 

Back in ‘my’ BMW, I take my old wallet and phone, and lock them in the center console. I’ll use my driver’s license if I get pulled over. I slip on the sunglasses my brother wore then glance in the vanity mirror seeing Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing. “Marcus Thomas, nice to meet you.” I say to my new reflection.

I’m doing this—taking over Marcus’ life for a while. It’s payback for him fucking my boyfriends growing up, behind my back without me knowing. I grin in my mirror, then check my Tag watch. It’s 12:30 and my Nav system says I’ll be home in Chicago by 5:30 pm.

During the long ride home, ‘my’ buddy Jason calls—It’s show time.

“Hey buddy, where you at? I stopped by your place and you weren’t there? Thought after last night you’d still be passed out?” He harasses me.

“Sorry, didn’t I mention I had to go see my brother in Ann Arbor?”

“Hell, you never even mentioned you had a brother. Hopefully he’s better looking than you and can hold his liquor.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely the better looking one but he controls his drinking better. We’re not that close but he’s having an engagement party tonight and wanted to see him.” I laugh and play Marcus perfectly.

“So I’m guessing no Sidetracks tonight or golf tomorrow?”

“No, sorry, won’t be home til tomorrow night.”

“Any word on your Merit membership?”

“Nothing yet.” Not sure what he’s talking about, will check into it.

“Okay, don’t forget next Saturday, for sure at Harborside.”

“Didn’t forget, its in my calendar.”

“I need to run here. See you at work bright and early Monday Mr. Vice President.” He chuckles and hangs up. 

That went extremely well. I’d love to go out tonight but I need time to learn about my new life. I open up my Facebook while driving, look up Jason and recognize him from my party pics last night. There’s pics of 'us' doing shots, looking wasted. He’s a good friend and didn’t suspect a thing. Five minutes later ‘my’ boyfriend Chad calls. I’m a little nervous but answer it, thinking to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas’. My new boyfriend has no reason to doubt my identity.

“Chad, how you doing?

“You sound good after last night.”

“Yeah, good sleep. How you feeling?”

“Great, just got back from picking up sister, then lunch at Brewser's, getting her settled in. You up for meeting her tonight?” 

“Oh, I’m in Ann Arbor, my brother has a surprise for me, having a little party.”

“You never mentioned a brother.”

“Yeah, we’re not that close. I’m betting he knocked up his girlfriend and is getting married.” I chuckle. 

“Oh great, that should be fun.  When you getting back?”

“Late tomorrow I’m thinking.”

“Oh, you’re gonna miss my sister.”

“I’m sorry, this came up a few hours ago with no warning, so here I am cruising to Michigan.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll survive driving the Bimmer, just don’t get a speeding ticket. I’m sorry about last night but I had too much to drink and wasn’t feeling good.” Chad chuckles.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens.”

“I’ll make it up to you Monday babe.” He promises.

“I’m holding you to it.”

“You better hold ‘it’ to me.” Getting suggestive and laughing at his joke. 

Chad goes on and on about his sister, her abusive husband and all the drama in her life. I give him my sympathetic ear while he does most of the talking. He doesn’t notice anything different about his boyfriend. I like the sound of his masculine voice which matches his rugged scruff image on my Instagram. I can’t wait to get him into bed but I need some ‘Marcus’ time to learn about my new life.

I drive the rest of the way back to his condo without pulling over. It’s a long ride but the BMW M8 is one sweet machine and makes it pass quickly. Marcus has great tastes in automobile. I’ve never driven a car like this. According to my brother, it has 600 hp and it feels like it. I’m cruising 80 mph but feel like I’m doing only 40 mph. I admire my new car, outfit, ring and watch as I’m flying ‘home’. 

Making Myself at Home

The hardest part was finding his assigned parking space after pulling into the garage. This causes me to drive around in circles. I stroll in carrying my brother’s briefcase and find the elevator. Finding my new condo is easy because of my visit a few years ago—Marcus bragged about being just below the Penthouse on the 78th floor. Tucked in my wallet is my access card that gets me into my new home.

I’m immediately in awe of ‘my’ place. It looks like something from ‘Architectural Digest’ magazine. The living room, kitchen and dining room have unobstructed corner view of Lake Michigan. The view is stunning, eliminating the need for any art or focal points in the living room. I take off my jacket, toss it on the sofa, grab a beer and make myself at home. There’s a dividing wall between the kitchen/dining room and the living room with a huge flat screen TV and see-thru open fireplace underneath it. All the furniture is clean, square and contemporary.  On the built-in wall unit are pics of mom and dad and other friends but only one of us taken at Halloween where we look nothing alike. A lot of his personal items, like artwork, pictures and music collection reflect both our lives and tastes. There are pics of me but anyone who’d see them would just assume it’s Marcus. 

The bedroom is large with a huge master bath and two connected closets full of my new wardrobe. The closets are his and her but he has them set up for work and casual. On the wall in between the two closets is a large built in jewelry chest containing a Rolex, a few Omegas and Tags, and an Apple Watch on a charging stand next to it. There’s also a nice selection of cufflinks, bracelets and other miscellaneous items. Underneath the shelf are drawers full of underwear, jocks and socks. On the wall behind the jewelry box is a safe that opens up after trying a few variations of his social security number. Inside is a gun, cash, passport and his birth certificate. 

In my new bedroom, the suit Marcus wore to work and celebrated in yesterday is laying on a leather chaise lounge with his untied shoes nearby on the floor. I pick up the suit coat and try it on—a perfect fit as would be expected. Everything he wore, that defined him yesterday is there to transform me into him. A devious thought crosses my mind—heading out to the 95th for a bite and getting familiar with my work place, in his work outfit from yesterday. I rush to the bathroom to freshen up and check out ‘my’ toiletries. A little bit of hair creme, brushing my teeth, a quick dab of deodorant, a spray of cologne and I’m the epitome of my brother.

Back in my bedroom, I quickly strip out of my brother’s bar clothes and start pulling on his black Tom Ford suit. His cuffed pants still have his belt in as I pull them on. His white dress shirt with monogramming have the cufflinks still in place. It’s tapered and hugs my body as I tuck it into my pants. His black cap toe shoes are still tied and broken in, for me to wiggle into. In the mirror I perfectly knot his silver textured tie as our father taught us when we were 14. Pulling on his suit coat completes my transformation and in the mirror staring back is Marcus as he was at work celebrating his promotion. 

It’s 8pm and I’m starving and decide to stop by ‘my office, then grab a bite at the 95th since my brother is a regular. ‘My’ office is on the 19th floor, so that’s my first stop since it is necessary for starting my new job on Monday. In the mirror I check my hair, and tuck my wallet, iPhone and keys in my pockets. 

At his office, finding his parking spot is just as tricky as at the condo, taking me 10 minutes to locate. My RF card operates the elevator, taking me to the 19th floor, where I easily find my office a few doors down from Robert Coleman’s corner office. The view isn’t nearly as spectacular as my condo but it’ll do for a work space. I spend an hour sitting at the desk, exploring drawers and files, and learning the layout so I’m up to speed first thing Monday morning. I didn’t think to bring my computer or I would have stayed longer. 

Learning my way around this building is complicated—figuring what elevator gets me where. I have to take the business elevator to a public lobby and take the express elevator up to the 95th.  The hostess recognizes ‘Mr. Thomas’ and asks if I’m meeting anyone. I just tell her I’m grabbing a drink at the bar and she leads me to the bar where ‘Tony’ also knows me and hands me a Gin and Tonic without asking. 

“Thanks Tony. Busy Night?”

“Not really. Jimmy said last night was insane. You hungry?”

“Yeah it was busy. I’m starving.”

“The usual?”

“Yeah, that’ll do.” I have no clue what I’m getting but I’ll eat anything.

I then head to the men’s room, taking my time to learn the layout as Marcus would know. Based on ‘my’ Instagram account, I’ll be spending many happy hours here in the coming months. There’s a steak tenderloin sandwich waiting at the bar for me when I get back. Tony rambles on and on about my brother and his friends, talking about Jason striking out with the redhead from J.P. Morgan last night he heard about from Jimmy. We’re quite the regulars here and I’m glad I stopped.

I get home after 11pm, exhausted from driving all day. Just like Marcus, I climb naked into his messy, unmade bed and pass right out. The first thing I do after waking up is jump in the shower, using his body wash, shampoo and conditioner. I don’t hesitate to use his electric toothbrush, deodorant or other personal items as my own. The final touch is using my brothers hair creme and styling it as he would. I grin and say to myself “Good morning Marcus.” 

Standing in ‘my’ bedroom, I go to the closets and slowly finger all of my new clothes. I pull open doors and drawers and familiarize myself with the contents. I pick up a sweater from the top of the closet and can smell the scent of the real Marcus Thomas. I start to think of my new identity and of the months ahead of living here and wearing all these clothes - ‘Marcus Thomas’ clothes. Silently I think, “you know what they say about clothes making the man!"

I walk around taking it all in, noting how it’s organized. From his drawers, I pull on a pair of his black Under Armour briefs. From the casual closet, I grab a pair of tan Polo chinos and a baby blue cashmere v-neck sweater I recognize from his instagram. His Cole Haas chukka boots and matching belt from yesterday go great with my Sunday outfit. A gold Omega watch and his black/titanium ring complete my very Marcus look. I’m the embodiment of my brother. Once dressed, I go through my work closet and explore.

His work suits are at one end, organized by color. I scan them, pull them apart to inspect and try on a few. They’re all very high-end Tom Ford, Brooks Brothers, Brioni or Hugo Boss and the fit is impeccable as to be expected. These are easily $5000 suits, compared to my $300 ‘Men’s Wearhouse’ specials. Next to his suits are dress shirts in all colors and styles, many of them custom with monogramming. His ties, belts, and shoes are concealed in the wall via very unique organizers that rolls out from the wall. These pull out organizers separate his outerwear like topcoats, trench coats from his dress shirts and suits. There’s one empty ‘Coach’ hanger that must be for my leather jacket that I wore yesterday. 

Back in my bedroom, I pick up my clothes from yesterday and toss in the hamper, except my old pair of Calvin Klein underwear—they end up buried deep in the kitchen garbage can. There can be nothing to reveal my real identity, no connection to my brother Michael.

The kitchen is contemporary with high-end cabinets and appliances—sleek stainless steel, beautiful teak wood cabinets  and marble countertops. Breakfast is K-cup coffee and a power bar. On the counter is a note from a Trudy, informing ‘me’ that she’ll begin thorough cleaning on Tuesday. So I have a housekeeper, of course I do. During breakfast, I familiarize myself with the kitchen, learning where things are, what’s in his fridge and cupboards. 

I take my breakfast to his office and his home computer wakes up with no password, showing me bookmarks for his banking, retirement and other accounts. His Wells Fargo checking account has $50,000 in it and his spending is very revealing. The account reveals a $15,000 check that paid for his lawyer, a $5000 check went for his DUI fine, another $40,000 check for St Joseph rehab. Keeping his DUI secret wasn’t cheap but it didn't dent his finances at all. There’s a $1012 charge from Coach Chicago, and in ‘my’ emails is the receipt dated a few weeks ago. His checking account reveals his dry cleaner, ‘lovely home’ cleaning service and all his spending habits.  I’m definitely going shopping today on the Magnificent Mile or ‘Mag Mile’ as we locals call it.

His $24,000/monthly deposits from Coleman provide a great lifestyle but there’s numerous deposits from ‘Cayman National Bank’ of $100,000 going back years. Something doesn’t look right—there’s a lot of money moving around.  A Fidelity account reveals diverse investments worth $3m. There’s also a J.P. Morgan account for his Palladium VISA that ‘I’ used to buy my new BMW weeks ago. I don’t have a thing to worry about financially as Marcus.

I open up his work laptop and easily log in as him. There’s a few new emails to review, then I spend hours reading through his old ones, getting up to speed with Ballis and other key customers. Thanks to his email history, it’s easy to respond to a few new emails as he would. On his desktop are all the files he mentioned, that’ll help me to learn his work issues. The Ballis presentation looks to be complete, ready for me to give on Friday but it looks boring. Some things seem odd or missing—I’ll have to look at that later.

My First Performance

It’s now lunch, I’m hungry and grab my new leather jacket to go out shopping. With my phone, wallet and keys in place, I head down to my car to start my first day. My first stop is the Burberry flagship store where I buy a tan classic trench coat that I didn’t find in my closet. I’ve always loved that classic look but they’re $2700—a little steep for my brother Michael but not me. Across the street is the Under Armour store that I shop at monthly and just have to check out. Half an hour later, I’m leaving with new underwear and some workout gear. I walk into the Coach store and I’m immediately accosted by the salesperson who sold ‘me’ the leather jacket I’m wearing. To make his day, I purchase a black hooded leather jacket that catches my eye for $1200. As I’m loading everything into my BMW, the phone rings and I don’t hesitate to answer it.

“Hey Liam.” I love caller ID. I’m able to answer like I’ve known him for years.

“Hey Marcus, what are you doing?”

“Was out shopping, looking to grab lunch now and need to work later.” Reminding myself that I need more time in the office before my first day on the job. 

“Where you at, I’ll join you.” He offers.

“On the Mile near Burberry.” I respond eagerly but think of the test of fooling ‘Liam’.

“Great, meet me at Capital Grill in 30 minutes.”

“Sounds like a plan.” My brother’s usual lingo, or it use to be.

Capital Grill is a few minutes away, giving me plenty of time to dig up information on Liam. Based on text messages and emails, he is gorgeous with short brown hair, an amazing six pack, blue eyes, stubble and is definitely a love interest. It looks like my brother and him were hot and heavy during the summer, with trips to Saugatuck and Holland Michigan on weekends. According to recent emails, he moved to Detroit for a big promotion with Bank of America. ‘My’ Instagram is full of beach parties, bonfires and drinking on a beach. My phone is even better with pics of him naked in my bedroom. Nice one bro!

I’m sure I’ll fool him easily. He shows up 30 minutes later with a big wet kiss for me. I’m instantly hard seeing him and from passionately kissing a hot stranger. During lunch he’s teasing my legs with his toes and reaching across with his hands, touching mine. 

“How’s Detroit treating you?” I start with what I know.

“I hate it! It’s dirty, the bars suck and no there’s no shopping like here.” He teases my legs constantly.

“It’s a big change I’m sure.” I can’t help but stare into his blue eyes.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He probes.

“Not really, a few dates, you? Been busy with work and my promotion.” 

“We need to celebrate that, I saw your Instagram posts and would have come home a few days earlier had I known.” He has his foot in my crotch, feeling my hard-on with his toes.

“We could celebrate privately now back at my place.” I smile and take his hand.

He grabs mine, pulls me up and we head back to ‘my’ place. Once inside, I press him against the wall, ram my tongue down his throat then drag him back to my bedroom and rip off his clothes. I push him on the bed.

“Fuck man, your horny Marcus.” He reaches into the drawer, easily finds a condom and pulls me into the bed. In seconds I’m on my back, the condom is slipped on and he’s straddling me, riding my throbbing cock. 

“Oh my god Liam.” I scream out in ecstasy and explode in him.

It was a great afternoon, especially when he screams out “Fuckkk Marcus” and I pump him full of cum. 

“Man, you’re incredible as always.” He cries out exhausted.

“It feels like it’s been years, I’ve missed you so much. You’re so hot.” I collapse back with my hands behind my head, totally thrilled with my performance as Marcus.

“You’re one horny fucker, it must have been a while for you. You seem different, more relaxed, laid back?” He shocks me, then giggles and I join in.

“That was months of missing you.” I kiss him deeply and get hard again. 

He takes my stiff throbbing member in his mouth without asking, getting me off again in seconds. Fuck, my brother really should keep this one—he’s hot, smart, funny and great in bed. Men like that are tough to find. We shower, scrubbing each other and making out. I’m grinning in the mirror, seeing Liam walking up behind me with a look in his eyes. He hasn’t notice anything different about ‘Marcus’.

“You look handsome as ever, babe,” he says, reaching his arm around and grabbing my stiff penis. “You sure you have to go to work?”

“Sorry but tomorrow is my first day as Vice President, I have a lot of prepping to do. When do you leave?” I turn around and kiss him gently.

“Wednesday morning, let’s do this again Tuesday night. I have a business dinner tomorrow.” He whispers in my ear.

“It’s a date.” 

He pulls off the towel from around my waist, wraps his arms around my neck and starts deeply kissing me. I brace myself against the counter and pull him tight cupping his ass in my hands. Minutes later, he dresses and says goodbye with a peck on the cheek. I grab my iPhone and duplicate a pic that’s in my camera of ‘me’ from a few weeks ago, with only a white towel around my waste. My build and six pack appears to be identical to my brother’s. I grin knowing my new identity is perfect. I’m dressing in front of the mirror, thinking of the best sex I’ve had in years. It’s incredible being Marcus with all the benefits—hot men, great wardrobe and incredible condo. It’s off to work here though. I need to be up to speed tomorrow. I need to know exactly what I’m doing.

No one is in the office on a Sunday afternoon and I have the whole place to myself to explore. My office is very impressive, very high-tech looking with a great view. There lots of plants, large conference table, hidden closet and great desk with two large monitors that automatically sync to my laptop when I open it. I’m there for hours logged into the system learning the layout, looking up files/people and my dashboard. By the end of the night, I’m responding to emails as Marcus would and planning my week. As I’m leaving, I glance my image in the window and smile as satisfaction sweeps over me. I’m ready for my first day as vice president.

Work Day One

I get to bed at 11 pm but I’m up after midnight studying the social media of fellow employees. I drift in and out of sleep all night long. The excitement of being Marcus Thomas has me up at 5 am planning my day—my 1st team meeting to review projects at 9 am, lunch with MedTech CMO and Ballis review at 3 pm.  

I crawl out of bed a little apprehensive about pulling off this charade. Then I remind myself how easily I passed for my brother with Liam, his coworker Jason and his lawyer. Since no one knows about Michael, there’s no reason for anyone to suspect I’m not Marcus. A long shower calms me down and using Marcus’s body wash gives me his base scent. All his personal hygiene items, including his Polo cologne which he’s been wearing since college are on his counter. I’m not a big fan of hair wax and creme but Marcus is. I put a dab in my hand, warm it up in my palms and work it through my hair. Running his comb through it, gives me his flawless style, identical to the photos in my phone. I use his electric toothbrush, spritz on some Polo, lift up my arm and make a few passes with his deodorant. My brother’s scent is now mine.

Marcus has alway been anal with his appearance and style—planning and laying everything out before dressing so I adopt the same habit. I’ve reviewed his Instagram and photos looking for some guidance on what he likes to wear. They’re a wealth of information on his tastes. His charcoal glen plaid Tom Ford suit catches my eye and looked great on him a few weeks ago. I pair it with a white french cuff, spread collar shirt, purple textured tie and white silk pocket square. The Tag is fine for weekends and casual days but knowing my pretentious brother, I’m certain Marcus would wear either the Omega or Rolex watch for work. I select his white gold Rolex and a pair of matching cufflinks. His black cap toe Allen Edmond shoes finish Marcus’ outfit for the day. 

In front of the closet mirror, I pull on his, no, my socks, underwear and t-shirt, then cuffed pants and custom shirt. His cufflinks and tie are next. His Allen Edmonds are luxurious and broken in for me. The way everything fits, it's clear we're still the same size. Finally I pull on the suit coat, add watch and ring, then tuck phone and wallet into my suit pockets. I’m watching my transformation in the mirror, pleased with every detail that confirms I’m Marcus Thomas, new vice president of marketing for Coleman. 

It’s hard to believe how completely different ‘my’ life is now–looking in the mirror, my reflection isn’t my own any more, I’m Marcus Thomas. I reach up and rake my hand through my thick hair. I love being Marcus—his style, his money and sex life so far are great. I straighten and adjust the knot of my tie with a smirk. “I’m Marcus Thomas,” I say to myself as my new reality is settling in.

I drive to work even though I could easily walk but there’s emails from HR about my new assigned parking space. Knowing Marcus, I’m certain he’d be driving everyday to show off the BMW M8, even with his DUI issue. This version of him will do the same but in case I’m pulled over, my original wallet is locked in the BMW console. I find my new parking spot, shut off the engine and mentally prepare myself. “I’m Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman” I repeat to myself many times.

I pull out my new coach wallet and work ID with RF chip, then I notice ‘my’ driver’s license. It’s the one detail I need to assume Marcus’ life in Illinois—his driver’s license. Marcus’ drivers license is suspended and if I use it for a traffic stop, I’ll be in jail. I can’t call his lawyer to fix it and they probably wouldn’t restore it until rehab is complete and he’s free. Then the perfect solution hits me—first, I’ll change my name in Michigan from Michael to Marcus then ‘move’ to Illinois using my new name and Marcus’ address. I’ll have a valid ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’ driver’s license that’s perfect with a clean driving record.

A quick check of myself in the vanity mirror reflects Marcus back at me, looking very sharp as usual. I get out and stroll in with my briefcase ready for my new position. People are greeting me, congratulating me and asking about my weekend. Everyone knows about my party Friday night at McGee’s. I need to thank my team member, Richard Zeppa for that tidbit of information I was lacking.

I hang up my new trench coat but leave on my suit, not sure what the dress code is for upper management. On Friday everyone was in a suit jacket during the office party for my promotion. At the coffee machine, the office gossip, politics and small talk comes easy. It teaches me a lot about the company, helping me fit in. Back in my office the day begins with email and prepping for my 9:30 am review with my team. Marcus was kind enough to do the prep work for me, outlining all the issues and his concerns. It’ll be like he’s actually there. Come to think of it, he is here and I’ve got to think of myself as my brother completely. 

Jason shows up at my office looking even better in person. He walks in, shuts the door and jumps into one of my chairs. Too bad he’s not gay or I’d be all over my new best friend. 

“Look at you Mr. Vice President, all professional looking and in early. New tie? You look rested and ready to go.” He notices.

“First impressions are important, especially with a new team to impress. Nah, I’ve had this tie, just wanted something that pops.” I notice he’s keeping his suit on. 

“How was your weekend, when did you get back?” He asks and I’m ready.

“It was good, I met my brother’s fiancee, drank too much, a lot of family was there and pressure is now on me to tie the knot. I got home about 10 pm and crashed. What did you do?” I explain.

“You tie the knot? You can barely tie your shoes.” He mocks and laughs at me. “Crashed all day Saturday, went out with Christine to some comedy club, sex and golf with Ted and Will yesterday.”

There’s a knock on my door and I recognize Adam Trappe, Coleman’s President. Jason jumps up from chair and welcomes ‘Adam’ into my office.

“Adam, Come on in, we’re just catching up.”

Adam comes right in, I stand up as a sign of respect. “Marcus, Ready for your first day?”

“Sure, anxious to tear into the job.” I smile as he has no clue this really is my ‘first’ day.

“Don’t forget lunch with Andy Kramer from Medtech. We need to tag team him on his spend.” Adam reminds me.`

“Adam, with the proposal I have planned, he’ll be begging to give us more money and buying us lunch. I promise.” Doing my best impersonation of my arrogant brother, having memorized his talking points for lunch today.

Adams smiles. “I’ll drive, just stop by my office about 11:30. Kristi made reservations at Gracy’s.”

Jason and Adam leave and I review ‘my’ notes for my first team meeting. Apparently, Marcus’s rehab stint was a last minute event because he has the next few weeks planned out and prepped for.  Everything is right at my fingertips to be him.

The whole day was easier than I expected. For the project reviews, it was new for all everyone so I followed my standard practice and raised Marcus’ concerns from his notes. Lunch was a huge success as Kramer loved my proposal and agreed to increase his marketing budget. Adam’s only complaint was him having to pick up lunch for us. I spend the rest of the day with my new team in and out of my office, and catching up with a flood of emails. Overall, It was an incredible day.

Jason stops by my office for happy hour and a few of us head up to the 95th. The view of the city from up there is amazing but I try to ignore it since it would be familiar to Marcus. Jimmy automatically hands me ‘my’ usual Gin & Tonic. We’re there for a few hours, drinking and having appetizers. Unlike my brother, I know when to stop which Jason notices.

“You’re different Marcus, something wrong? You’re not drinking.”

“Rough weekend thanks to Friday night and you, then driving to Ann Arbor. Then starting new position today.”

“So why aren’t you drinking?”

“Because of Friday night and you.” 

He laughs at me. “Did you invite your boyfriend? Chad just came in with ‘Alex’ and is heading this way.”

Shit, Marcus mentioned Chad and something about the accident. I open up my phone and run to the bathroom quick. “I’ll be right back, beer is kicking in.”

“What beer?” He gets cocky with his best friend. 

In the bathroom I quickly review text messages from him, trying to piece together their relationship. The early text messages are about partying and clubbing at some trendy spots. Later messages are about sex, going out for dinner and hanging out. I’ll just have to wing it, can’t hide in the stall all night. I splash cold water on my face, stare in the mirror and think to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas, just look at you’. After straightening my tie and running my hand through my hair, I head back to the bar. One thing is certain, he’s hot and if he wants to have sex, I’m in. Chad comes over to me with a big hug followed by a tender kiss. I’m hard in a minute like I was with Liam yesterday.

“I knew I’d find you here babe. I’m sorry about Friday night, I just had so much to do Saturday and Sunday with my sister in town.” He pouts.

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot about a family event in Ann Arbor I had to go to.” I lie.

Jason whispers in my ear. “Don’t want to say the marriage word do you?” Then chuckles.

“I’ve missed you.” Chad says while his friend Alex gives me really dirty looks. I’m not sure who he is, if they’re related, friends or what.

“I’ve missed you, can I get you a drink?” 

“A vodka cranberry would be great, Alex, do you want something?” He asks his friend.

“Vodka cranberry would do the trick.” He says queerly.  I get a very jealous vibe off him.

I head to the bar and pay with my new Amex then return. Alex is hanging up his phone, excited because his boyfriend got home early and is waiting for him. He guzzles his drink and runs, leaving Chad with me and my friends. 

I play Marcus’ friends convincingly and no one doubts my identity. I make sure to take lots of selfies with Jason and Chad and post them on my Instagram and Facebook, using clever hashtags and comments. Instead of my usual Ultra beer, I’m drinking Marcus’ gin & tonic and notice that Jason is a Yuengling drinker. In the mirror behind the bar, I glimpse Marcus and his best friend drinking and getting shit face.

I’ve known Marcus my entire life while Chad has known him only a few months. After a few drinks, he’s grabbing my ass and kissing me. I lean in and kiss him deeply back, loving the credibility he gives me as my brother, accepting me so easily, loving it when he calls me Marcus. I want to fuck him so badly. We hurry back to my place and I fuck him in my brother’s bed. As I make my way down his body, I slide his underwear off, then delicately lick his perfect penis. He’s been here before as he has no problem finding my condoms and slipping one on me. I slip into him slowly and push in deeply, making him moan louder and louder. When he calls out ‘Marcus’, I climax immediately and he follows a minute later. I spoon him to sleep with my hands wrapped around his waist. 

I wake up to my shower running and him running around the apartment.

“Don’t get up, it’s early and I have a shoot at 6am with Charlie Matthews. He’s gorgeous.” His voice full of excitement.

I grab my phone off the charger and quickly google Charlie Matthews. “Not as hot as what you had last night.”

“Hot and sexy. I had a great time, let’s do this Friday night and we can sleep in Saturday.”

“Let me text you on that, Friday is really busy and I have a golf outing with Jason really early Saturday. I blew him off last weekend, can’t do it again.” I explain.

“Let me know then.” He comes over to the bed and kisses me deeply. I keep my hand on the back of his head and try to keep him from leaving. 

I’ve been Marcus for two days and have had sex every day—more than I had in the past six months as Michael. His life is better than expected and I wouldn’t change a thing. I wonder who else I could fuck, or hook up with Liam again since he is still in town. Marcus has been living the good life for sure. I then remember seeing Grinder on my brother’s phone, grab it and start swiping for some possible action for tonight. 

Work Day Two

In the shower, I grab my semi-rigid penis, think of my new sex life, rub one out then follow my routine. I’m in love with Marcus’s life—the sex, job, friends, car, and condo. Stepping into his life it has been easier than I ever imagine. I’m really appreciating his closet, especially his suits. When we were growing up, he always had a more ‘put-together’ preppy look, paying attention to details. I was more grunge and laidback. It was the only way our parents could tell us apart. He’s taken his preppy look to the next level. He has a subscription to GQ and collection on his closet shelf going back years. I never knew he was such a metrosexual. 

His appearance is easy to duplicate with his complete wardrobe at my finger tips. Thanks to his Instagram, there are years of pics and videos of him during and after work at happy hours. There are pics of him in a light gray window pane suit that catches my eyes. It’s dated a few months ago and it looked great on him. It’s a Hugo Boss suit that I easily find in his closet. All the details except the shoes are easy to find and pull together. As Marcus does, I lay everything out on my bed to perfect.

My second day starts with Jason waiting for me in my office.

“Where were you bro?” He demands.

“What?” I have no clue what he’s referring to.

“Hello? The gym? Did you forget?”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry man. I hooked up with Chad, was ‘busy’ all night and over slept.” Thinking quick because I had no clue about Marcus working out. I did notice a gym bag on the floor in the closet but didn’t think about it. 

“I didn’t see you leaving with him?” 

“Because you were busy with Cathy.” I give him one of Marcus’ devious smiles, like he ate the canary.

“All is forgiven oh great one.” He jokes, bows and twirls his hand as a sign of respect. 

The rest of my day is easy, getting into account and proposal details, working with my team. Jason is in and out of my office talking about anything and everything—I really like the guy and being his friend. We do lunch together at the Big Pig just across the street. According to my debit account, it’s at least a weekly occurrence if not more. Marcus eats anything so there’s no need to worry what I order. The only questionable choice was me getting a Coke instead of a beer. Jason commented and told him I drank too much again last night. It seemed to quiet him quickly. 

As we were finishing up, Liam called about getting together tonight and I don’t hesitate to say yes. I pick him up at his hotel, take him to Ghezzi’s for Italian. I ply him with wine while staying away from it. The wine doesn’t affect his ‘foot work’ in my crotch fortunately and I’m throbbing hard all through dinner. We skip desert and I he ends up with my penis as ‘desert’ and loves it. I’m now three for three with sex so far this week. Liam doesn’t stay so he can catch his early morning flight back to Detroit tomorrow. 

Work Day Three

Two days of work have gone fairly smooth. There’s been a few glitches, like Marcus’ gym habit or not knowing things off the top of my head, that have been out of character. There will be more missteps and I’ll just respond the best I can. 

To sort out the gym routine with Jason, I start with his gym bag where I find his gear but also his gym ID card and dry cleaning slip in the end pocket. He’s a member of John Hancock Center Fitness, and also uses the Hancock dry cleaner. On my calendar are blocked off areas for ‘gym’ on Tuesday and Thursday morning at 7 am. There are still a lot of blanks I need to fill out so I head to work early for a quick stop at the gym.

I’m greeted by ‘Gina’ the receptionist at the entrance. “Marcus, we missed you yesterday, Jason was looking for you too.”

“Yeah Gina, he tore into me in the office for it.” I laugh.

“What can I do for you?”

“I think I may have lost my ear buds here, did anyone turn a pair in?” I ask.

“Not that I know of but let me check.” She heads into the manager’s office while I head to the men’s locker room to find my locker.  There’s a number on my ID card that leads me to my locker and opens it right up for me. Marcus has his complete bathroom duplicated in here—Polo products, toothbrush and extra gear. There’s a clipboard showing a routine that he hasn’t used it in a year per the date but it does give me an outline of his habit. 

I grab my earbuds out of my pocket and head back to Gina.

“It looks like you’ve found them.” She notes happily.

“Yeah, left them in my locker like an idiot.” I laugh. “Hey was Jason in today?”

“No but then again, he never comes without you except on Sundays once in a while.”

“Oh you have his attendance history?”

“Sure, going back years to when you both joined.” She turns the monitor around for me to see. Right there is what I needed—Jason and I work out every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork at 7 am, leave about 8:30 am, grab a coffee at the Starbucks per my spending alerts and head to work.

“Thanks for your help Gina, see you tomorrow.”

“No you won’t, remember Ron is on Thursday.” She corrects me.

“Oh yeah, it feels like Monday for some reason.” A plausible recover.

My gym routine is set for tomorrow morning with my best friend.

After a few days as Marcus, my life is already becoming routine. I’m using ‘I’ll get back to you’ a lot but I do get back to them after I research the issue. This helps with learning the job and customers. No one has questioned my identity but then why would they with my looks. 

Late in the day a young kid with a man bun knocks on my door and walks in. I have never seen him before.

“Mr. Thomas, hi, I’m Gavin from IT services. Are you having computer problems?” He asks.

“No, why?” I respond not thinking I have any issues. I’m in the system and seem to have full access.

“Well, we track logins and you haven’t been using your biometric scanner, just your PIN.”

Damn, I did see a fingerprint scanner on the desk and haven’t bother with it even though it blinks when I open up my MacBook. I tried it once then it turned red and rejected me. 

“It didn’t work on Sunday so I’ve just been using my PIN. Isn’t that okay?” I explain.

“The PIN should only be used when you’re traveling, working remotely. The fingerprint is much more secure, prevents hackers from gaining access. Mr. Coleman wants his senior staff more protected.” Gavin explains.

“Understood, I just wasn’t worried about it.”

“Shut down and reboot and try it.” He directs.

After it boots up, I try my fingerprint and it beeps red.

“Hmmm, your fingerprint file must be corrupt. We’ll rescan and reconfigure it for you. It happens now and then.” From his bag he pulls out his computer and hand size scanner. He hooks everything up and the scanner glows blue for him.

“Now just place your right hand on it and don’t move till it glows green.”

I’m nervous wondering if this will compare old and new, and alert him to the difference. He removes my hand, then types away at his laptop. 

“Okay, now reboot and try any finger.” He orders.

It boots up, I try my index finger and it approves. 

“All set Mr. Thomas. Next time it happens, call me right away. Also, we’ll be adding biometric scanners to all the executive offices and lobby entrance in a few weeks. You’re all set for that now.”

“Thanks Gavin, I appreciate the help.” Gavin doesn’t realize how much he’s helped me. I’ve been looking at that scanner all week, wondering how get my fingerprints recognized and afraid of asking for help because of fear I’d be discovered. I’m now Marcus Thomas with security.

I skip happy hour with my friends and head home to prep for tomorrow’s big presentation. On the way I stop at the cleaners and pick up a bundle of laundry, suits, ties and shirts. The elderly woman greets ‘Mr. Thomas’ and thanks me for my business. At home I review my dry cleaning as I hang up everything in my closet. There’s a sharp 3 piece charcoal suit that’s one of my favorites based on Instagram and will be my outfit for tomorrow. 

I work in my home office till 9 pm reviewing the Ballis files, meeting notes and account details. Marcus’ Ballis history spans almost 2 years. It’s obvious the quality of his work has vastly improved over those years. There’s a maturity to it now. I pull up the Ballis presentation and practice it for Friday’s meeting. The one difference between myself and Marcus is that I’m the better public speaker. There are a few videos of him giving presentations in his account files and we’re about equal now. 

TGIF

I’m awake very early, planning my outfit for today’s big presentation. I’ll be wearing one of my brother’s, I mean one of my favorite outfits—I’m all Tom Ford today.  I checked my shopping receipts and found that I purchased a ‘Tom Ford Windsor 3-piece peak lapel suit’ for $7200 a few months ago. That was just for the suit—add $300 for tie, $50 for a pocket square, $600 for a custom dress shirt, $2000 for a pair of English Tan leather shoes, $75 for black underwear, $145 for t-shirts and a stunning $4950 for ‘striped’ cufflinks for a total of $17,000.  They must love me at Tom Ford. It takes 30 minutes to find all these items in my closet. 

It’s amazing slipping into $75 boxer briefs that hug my ass. I never liked wearing t-shirts but Marcus always does so I pull on a brand new $145 Tom Ford t-shirt. For socks, I find a crazy colorful bright green pair with golf balls on them—for a pop of color. He showed these off on his Tiktok account which I’ve yet to use. I pull on the cuffed pants and add a belt, using the same hole as he has a few times. His custom shirt tapers to my waist. The striped cufflinks are a bit tricky but look like a million dollars. The tie decision is tough but I stick with the gold paisley Tom Ford he wore with this suit before. His tan dress shoes look great but are not yet broken in, but he left them tied so I just wiggle into them. I’ve never worn a 3-piece suit in my life but the vest adds an image of authority as it goes on. I remove the suit jacket and confidently pull it on, adjusting the cuffs and tie in the mirror. ‘My’ Rolex and ring complete my transformation into Marcus Robert Thomas. 

In the mirror is Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing, running his hand through his hair, checking every detail of his appearance. My new Burberry tops off my identity.

Friday cements my new identity. The Ballis presentation is flawless and after 5 hours, their marketing team awards Coleman a huge contract worth $5m. My biggest challenge was quickly learning the names of the key players since my brother had a number of meetings with them. Robert Coleman congratulated me at happy hour on the 95th. He pulls me aside and says. “keep doing this and you won’t be VP for long.” 

Jason, who wasn’t in the meeting, comes up to me and I have Mark take a pic. “Marcus, you’re the buzz of the entire office, even Adam is praising you.”

“Buddy, Ballis was just ripe for a new marketing direction and it all fell into place.”

“Well, it was your best work according to everyone in the room.” He adds.

“Robert quietly told me I wouldn’t be VP for long, so he’s either firing me or promoting me.” I smile while Jason jumps up and down hugging me. 

“You better not be stealing my boyfriend.” Chad shows up, puts his hand around my neck and pulls me in for deep kiss. 

“Babe, you’re late.” I note.

“Yeah, last minute phone call with California. I’ll make it up to you later.” He smiles.

Jason chimes in.”don’t keep him up all night, we’re playing Harborside bright and early.”

“I didn’t forget.” I assure him.

After Chad discretely reaches in my pocket and fondles my cock., we excuse ourselves, grab dinner and head back to my place. We fuck all night long, including in my shower, early the next morning. As soon as Chad leaves, Jason calls to make sure I’m up. 

He offers to pick me up and drive. I’m grateful since I’m clueless how to get to Harborside. Marcus’ golf clothes are in the casual part of my closet and his clubs are in one of my spare bedrooms along with his other toys. Marcus was always a better golfer than me and I haven’t played in years. Again, I use instagram to select a typical Marcus outfit—Under Armour shorts and shirt, Adidas cleats and his leggings since it’s chilly outside. He has a great set of Callaway clubs and bag but it doesn’t help. Jason points out that I suck more than usual but I blame it on not sleeping last night and not playing in weeks.

The best part of the day is Jason driving me back to his place to help him move some furniture. I now know where my best friend lives. We hang out for hours, watch some college football, and drink too much beer the rest of the afternoon. That night we hit up “Sides” and I get wasted for the first time in 7 years. My new friends are great and clueless they have a new friend.

Sunday is set aside as a ‘me’ day to celebrate my first incredible week living my brother’s life. I dress in my usual Polo Chino, a sweater and my favorite leather jacket. For breakfast I take the M8 north along Lake Michigan and find a little diner to eat then head back to the city to shop. Even though I mock the ‘Mag Mile’, there’s no better place to shop and that’s my plan. My net worth is north of $5 million now and I’m going to spend some of it. At the Polo store I’m recognized, kissed up to and end up spending $2500 for sport coat, pants and casual shirt. At the Rolex Boutique I spend $13,000 on Rolex Daytona, putting it on my Platinum VISA. The serious damage is done at Tom Ford where I spend $20,000 on a few new suits, suspenders, shoes and ties.  One is a double breasted, the other is a 3-piece suit and I haven’t seen anything like them in my closet. Everything I purchase reflects Marcus’ style and tastes, not Michael’s. 

Back home, it takes two trips to unload the car. Chad comes over for dinner and spends the night. He’s shocked to learn I can cook but I keep it simple with some steaks on the grill, potatoes and salad. He’s up early to go to work and I decline an invitation to join him so I can sleep in. I really enjoy spending time with him, especially the sex. 

The next week flies by like the first with long hours, working out and happy hours with Jason and friends. Robert has given me the AMP account to conquer next, bypassing Adam. My love life is insane. Chad fucked me in the bathroom on the 95th, Liam wants me to spend a weekend with him in Detroit. Merit approved my application for membership so Jason and I will be taking the AMP management team there for a round before the season end. 

I can’t believe how easy it’s been stepping into Marcus’ life and how much I’m enjoying it. His routine is now my routine—whether it’s working out, or happy hour or work. I’ve replaced him and no one has a clue. When someone says ‘Marcus’, I instinctively respond to ‘my’ name without hesitation. My fear now is losing it back to him and ending up back in Ann Arbor building websites and working for another little company.

Visit Number One

Marcus’ rehab clinic called, letting me know I can visit on Saturday and take him off campus for lunch. I confirm I’ll be there at noon and to let him know. On the way there, I stop by my house and change from his clothes into my typical Levis and t-shirt but keep the leather jacket on. I also wear my Michigan baseball cap to hide my new haircut. Marcus’ clothes are put in a duffle bag and hidden in the trunk to change back into later.

There are a lot of rules to agree to before Marcus is allowed out for the afternoon. He’s limited to a 10 mile area and no alcohol, drugs or cigarettes of any kind. A big male nurse brings him out to me and we jump in the BMW.

“You’re not getting out?” Is the first question I ask.

“Fuck no, I’m stuck here for 90 days at least according to my therapist. My fucking lawyer says it was a last minute change and that he even told me. I was so drunk the last time we talked, that I probably forgot the conversation.”

“Great, I was confused when the clinic called about lunch, figuring they meant taking you home. What about work? They’re expecting you on Monday.”

“I know, I know, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for with Coleman. I was thinking we could swap places and you stay here but this ankle bracelet doesn’t come off.” He lifts his leg to show me.

“Jesus, you’re under house arrest bro. I could have, would have. I was laid off from my job a few days ago. We were bought out by Tyco months ago and when I refused to move to Philadelphia for them, they laid me off.” He’s not the only good liar in the family. 

“So what are you going to do?” Marcus asks.

“Well, I got a 9 months severance, even have some leads on jobs, so I’m in no hurry yet.”

“Bro, this is perfect! Go into work as me, cover for me.” I knew he’d come up with that on his own. Internally I’m smiling but outwardly, I look gravely concerned. 

“Oh come on bro, this isn’t college, this would be your life. This would be for months. How do I learn your job by Monday morning?”

“Michael, we’re both marketing majors, you have all my files on my laptop, all you have to do is clean yourself up, put on one of my suits and go in. It’ll be easy, like when we swapped for the summer in college.”

“You’re comparing this to college? We swapped boyfriends for a few months.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easy. I’m starting a new position with a new creative team that barely know me.”

“What about your coworkers, friends, neighbors and boyfriends? Your phone has been going crazy with people calling, offering condolences and wanting to send flowers. I spoke to Liam and Chad a few times, they’re worried about me, I mean you and our dad’s death. That lie traveled really far and fast.” I’m as good of a liar as Marcus.

“Oh, it was probably my buddy Jason, he’s as bad as a woman.” He chuckles.

“So Jason knows you really well, right? As soon as I fuck up, he’ll figure out I’m not you.”

“No, he has no clue I even have a brother, let alone a twin. He’ll have no reason to suspect you’re not me.”

“What about everyone else?”

“I’ll write down everything you need to know about my life. Pull into that Dollar Store and grab a tablet. Do you have my computer with you?”

“No, it’s in my living room along with your phone, wallet and jewelry.” I pull into the store and we grab all that’s needed. I throw everything at him and he starts writing feverishly while I look for a place to eat in this little town. We settle on a Sonny’s BBQ and get a table in the corner away from everyone. I keep my baseball cap on so Marcus doesn’t notice my haircut that actually looks better than his’. 

He’s quietly chatting and writing the entire time, only taking time to eat his BBQ ribs and drink some ice tea. He’s drawing floor plans, scribbling names with notes and paragraphs of information.

“Ok, here’s everything you need to know.” Marcus announces proudly and pushes papers towards me. “It’s in groups of work, friends and boyfriends.”

“Great, tell me about my new boyfriends, tricks or ‘friends with benefits’.” 

“Ha, Let’s start with the important people, those closest to me.”

“Do you have a little black book I can use?” I beg.

“Focus! Jason is my closest friend, followed by Mark. We do happy hours, work out, work together, golf, road trips, and watch football on weekends.” Marcus gets very serious.

“I need to have a little ‘fun’ bro.” I whine. 

“Here’s everything you need to be me with them.” He responds with attitude then passes me sheets labeled ‘Friends/Boyfriends’. He has their names listed, how they met, quirks, habits, hobbies, interests.  Then he hands me a ‘Coleman’ sheet.

“For work, Robert Coleman hired me, mentored me and I’m like the son he’s never had. He’s been easing out of the business, letting Adam Trappe assume more responsibility. I’m next in line for Adam’s President  position next.”

Marcus has detailed notes for all managers I’ve been interacting with for weeks. This gives me even more information that only the real Marcus would know. I use this to fire off more questions about my new life and the information just flows from him to me. 

“What about ‘my’ sex life bro? I need a boyfriend or boytoy. You have to have one based on texts and phone calls I’m trying to respond to. Oh, and the pics in your phone, fuckkkk.” I smile at him.

“No serious boyfriend so you’re safe. Chad, who you’ve talk to is latest. We met at an art showing for our common friend Peter. I fucked him in the back office of the gallery the first night and hook up weekly at least. He’s great in the sack.”

“I looked at his pics on your phone. He looks amazing.”

He goes on about Liam, Jim and Dennis, filling in a lot of blanks. Then he talks about Jason and his straight guy friends. About half the information is not new to me but the rest is great. Marcus fills in a lot of personal history about people, things like how they met, jokes they share, likes/dislikes and habits. A lot of the little things Marcus knows, are now part of my identity and strengthen my identity as Marcus Thomas.

“So how is the Clinic treating you? Making progress?” I ask.

“The last two weeks was me shaking, having withdrawals and night sweats. I would kill for a drink right now. There’s group therapy every day before lunch,  then after lunch are the one-on-one sessions. Dinner is at 6pm and the rest of the day is ours. There’s TV and complete library but no phones or internet.”

“What about your lawyer, record and trial? How does that work?” I probe.

“I get a weekly, 10 minute call. He says the 3 months of treatment may be counted as 3 months of jail time but I could still get real jail time of up to 5 years.”

“What about you driving? You’ll have a record.”

“It’s too early to know. I’m hoping I do 3 months here, have limited driving rights and no jail time. He’s also working on getting the arrest record expunged.”

“You have a lot riding on this lawyer, do you want me to contact him?”

“No, but check my mail for any of his bills and pay them. My bank login information is here, but it should be saved on my iMac.”

“What if I’m caught?” Not that I would but just want to play up my concern.

“Are you joking? You won’t be. With all this information and your looks, you’ll pull off my identity easily. Have fun at work Marcus.” He hands over his life to me.

I drop Marcus off but don’t go inside. It’s another 6 hour drive home with a quick stop in Ann Arbor to change into Marcus for another month. The entire drive home my mind is spinning with what just happened. My brother has turned over his life to me and I don’t have to worry about the last two weeks. Once I’ve changed back into my ‘Marcus’ outfit and driving the BMW, I only think of myself as him. I start thinking of work and upcoming projects, working out with Jason and lunch at Merit using my new membership.

The Better Marcus

The Ballis Automotive rebranding campaign kicked off a few weeks ago to rave reviews. Robert storms into my office all excited because we’ve been nominated for a number of Association of National Advertisers B2 awards. Just to be nominated is a huge honor even if you don’t win. The Ballis campaign was nominated for the categories of ‘Web Presence’, ‘Branding’, ‘Employer Branding’ and ‘Product Relaunch’. The B2 award gala will be held at the end of the month, at the Sheraton Grand which is less than a mile from our office. 

Marcus may have done the initial work on the overall proposal, but I’m the one who reworked the website and branding portions at the last minute. I’ve always been the more creative one. Robert is convinced this will catapult Coleman to the top for Chicago marketing. When Robert leaves, I look out the window, overlooking Michigan avenue and look at myself in the reflection. A deep sense of accomplishment and satisfaction hits me—I’m a better Marcus for sure.

“Is your head swollen? Will it fit through the door?” Jason comes running into my office after hearing the ANA news. 

“No, you better call building maintenance so they can enlarge the door so I can get out.” I turn around, he high fives me and I smack the back of his head for his comment.

“Ouch, you fucker! We’re heading up to 95th.”

“For sure, just give me a few minutes to finish up here. I’ll meet you there.”

I finish up some emails, then think about Marcus getting all the credit for my hard work. He’d have no problem sitting here with the award on the desk, showing it off, bragging while not having a clue what went into it. Thinking of this, just pisses me off. I’m not going to let him do this, he’s been taking things from me our entire life.

Happy hour is insane and even Jason notices I’m back to drinking ‘like a ho’. The whole office is here including Robert and Adam. Robert pulls me, Gary,  and Adam aside to let us know that we have a table for the black tie gala, we’re all attending in a few weeks and it’s black tie. It’s a huge celebration for just the simple nominations. 

I text Chad and he joins us then drives me back to his place for the night. This helps a lot since, like Jason, I had no clue where he lives. Sex with him is great. I don’t even mind him being a screamer, especially when he’s screaming out ‘Marcus’. Fucking him as Marcus is such a turn on for me, that I usually explode upon hearing my new name. I figured out, based on emails that Marcus dated him for about 6 weeks, and I’ve been at it for 4 weeks. Like everyone else I interact with, he’s clueless to the switch. 

Two weeks later ‘team Coleman’, as we’re now calling ourselves, is at the Gala dressed to the nines. I spent about $9,000 at Tom Ford for a new Tuxedo and accessories. There is a Brooks Brothers tuxedo in the back of my closet but wearing it would be out of character for Marcus. It was a brilliant night for Coleman and Ballis, winning ‘Web Presence, Employer Branding and Branding’—all areas that I created, not Marcus. Robert hands me one of the awards and has me talk about the web presence concept. Chad films it for my Instagram. We go back to my place to celebrate with more sex but I leave early for my lunch with my brother tomorrow in Cleveland.

The next morning I spend hours at the DMV getting my new Illinois drivers license. I walk in as Michael Thomas from Ann Arbor, Michigan and walk out as Marcus Thomas of Chicago Illinois. I managed to find the same shirt  Marcus used for his license, and wore it for my new pic. Putting both side by side, the only difference is the license number itself. At home I log into all of my accounts, like banking, work, travel and update them with my new drivers license number. My old wallet and my brother’s license are locked in my safe and I change the passcode. The new driver’s license replaces the old one like i’ve replaced Marcus.

I’m shamelessly using ‘my’ Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat and TikTok just like my brother. Whether I’m at happy hour, the gym or out on a date, I’m posting and bragging about my life. 

Visit Number Two

Six weeks have passed since my brother went into rehab and I assumed his identity and life. I’m firmly in place as Marcus, acquiring his friends and career—basically his entire life is now mine. I’m a better version of Marcus Thomas. This time I don’t change my clothes or identity to visit him. On purpose, I’m in one of his favorite outfits, that was well documented on his Instagram.  I’m there early and he’s waiting in the lobby for me. He jumps up when he sees me.

“Michael, you’re early.” Using a name I haven’t responded to in weeks.

“Come on bro, let’s go, I’m starving.” I sign him out with the front desk.

We jump into the car and head to the Sonny’s again. I bring in my briefcase and computer into restaurant with me, to have him help me with some account information. The hostess looks at us oddly, probably wondering if we’re twins. Marcus looks horrible with an overgrown stubble and long hair while I’m the epitome of Marcus Thomas. 

“Wow, don’t you look all spiffy in my clothes.” Marcus stares at me. 

“Yeah, I didn’t realize you were such a fashionista but I’m starting to appreciate it. You approve of my outfit?” I adjust my sleeves in my suit coat. 

“Ah yeah, because it’s one of my favorite outfits—Hugo Boss, my Omega watch and even my Prada shoes. Why so dressed up?” He notices the details.

“Yeah, I saw it on ‘my’ Instagram and loved it.” I’m wearing his Hugo Boss tan glen plaid suit with wine color dress shirt, and Prada lace up derbies. I duplicated it exactly from his pics on Instagram. “I thought I’d show you how much I look like you with hair done, in one of your outfits you. Don’t worry, I take off the jacket and hang it in the car while driving.” 

“Just make yourself at home, in my home and my life.”

“Actually it’s my life Michael. Your friends and coworkers haven’t noticed anything different about me. It’s been really easy being Marcus.” I smile at him, giving him my identity and he doesn’t say a word. 

“I can see why. You’re the spitting image of me, even the hair now.” He acknowledges. 

“Yeah I had to get a haircut of course. Learning your job, friends and life was challenging but I’m you.”

“What about Chad?” He questions.

“Oh my god, I’ve had more sex as you than I had in the past year. You’re still dating Chad and Liam visited. They’re both incredible in bed.” I grin devilishly at him.”

“You’ve slept with both of them?”

“Yeah, Liam was in town for work, called and we had lunch, then sex but he’s back in Detroit. I’ve been ’dating’ Chad regularly and he’s blast too.”

“Wow you have replaced me. I’m so horny and jealous. They didn’t notice a difference?”

“Only that I was better in bed!” I boast.

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“So how is it going with rehab? Making progress?” I ask sincerely. 

“I would give you a million dollars for a beer right now. I finally started sleeping normally but the cravings don’t end. The other day I had an incident with my doctor when I rejected some pills to calm me down. I threw the bottle in a fit and pills flew across the room. They ended up injecting me with a needle instead and I was out for 12 hours.”

“I never noticed your drinking issue. In college you were no different than anybody else.”

“It happened after college with the job, daily happy hours and binge drinking.”

“I can relate now because Jason wants to do the 95th every night.”

“How is he doing? I miss hanging out with him.” Marcus sadly asks.

“He’s doing great, seeing a girl he met at a football game. He claims she’s the one.”

“Ha, yeah he says that with every new girl. I give it 4 weeks max.” He laughs a little.

“What’s the lawyer saying?” I ask seriously.

“It’s not good.” He’s down again. “He’s trying but not having any luck. He also says I have ‘at least’ three months here, that it could be longer.”

“Jail time?”

“3 to 7 years.” He says soberly.

“Fuck bro! Fuck!!” I was a little loud and some people heard me.

“Yep, I’m fucked for sure. Even 3 years in jail will kill me.”

“I’m sorry bro. I don’t know what to say.” I respond very quietly.

“It’s out of my control, nothing I can do. I just have to hope my lawyer is worth all the money I’m paying him. I don’t want to think about it.” Marcus sighs in defeat. “How is my life, you certainly have my look nailed.” 

“The first few weeks were sketchy, learning your job, habits and people who know you. You didn’t mention your gym membership and working out with Jason. He noticed that when I missed our ‘normal’ workout. Then I messed up when I was clueless about Nikomahs Casino, your first major success.”

“But has anyone discovered you, questioned you?”

“Look at me.” I lean back in the chair and run my hand through my hair in a typical Marcus gesture. “If our parents couldn’t tell us apart, do you think your friends can? They don’t even know you have a twin, so why would they think I’m anyone but you?”

“That is amazing but I shouldn’t be surprised, it was alway easy for us to swap.”

“I’m you, living your life and loving it. I’m doing one hell of a job.”

“No glitches or problems with people or issues?”

“Not a single person has questioned my identity but there has been some slip ups on my part. The worst moment was my lack of knowledge about the changes to the Nikomahs casino account over the past 6 years, that ‘I’ personally handle. I was so embarrassed but Robert jumped in and filled in the blanks. Afterwards he pulled me aside and asked what’s wrong, that I was not myself. I pulled the ‘mom isn’t well and I can’t focus. It seemed to work but that night I spent hours in the office reviewing every document and email about it.” I confess but lie. 

“You can’t possibly know my career history or little details.”

“That’s why you’re going to fill me in on the details. You’re going to fill in the blanks of your life for me.” I pull out his computer from his briefcase. 

“Sure, you’ve got 6 more weeks to cover for me.”

“I have to ask…what if you go to jail? What do I do?”

“I don’t know. Resign my job, sell my condo and put everything in storage? Make up some lie, like I’m starting my own business and moving to London.”

“Throw everything away? What if I keep your identity? Robert loves you like a son, and Jason loves you like a brother. They’d be devastated.” I toss it out there to see his reaction.

He gets pissed at me for saying it, I see his anger. “Then fucking live my life, you’ve always been jealous of me. You can be me! It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this but I’m definitely doing a better job of it.” I get cocky back with him. 

“Yeah right, your vast experience of job hopping and creating dinky webpages really qualifies you for my job. Looking like me and actually being me, are two different things.”

“Fuck you. I’m crushing it as you. Robert has noticed a positive change in you since I cut back drinking and even Jason has admitted it’s time for us to drink less.” I fire back at him. 

“Fuck you, you may be sitting at my desk, doing my job but you’re not me.”

I open up my acceptance speech video from last night and shove his iPhone in his hand. “I’m actually better than you after only one month. Watch the new Marcus Thomas, ANA B2 award winner.”

He’s just watching in silence, mouth open in disbelief. “You accepted my award for Ballis?”

“No, it’s my award for my work. The meeting was delayed and I reworked about 75% of your proposal, which are what the awards were for.” I boast, he has nothing to say after that.

I open my notebook, pull up the Ballis proposal and shove it towards him. He scrolls through the entire thing, totally silent again. 

“So you built on top of what I created. If I had more time, I would have done even better.” He proclaims after reviewing the presentation.

“Oh, give me a fucking break. Your proposal put me to sleep the first time I went through it. Gary and Adam loved my new concept and Ballis was onboard before the meeting ended. Coleman never saw that happen. You’re welcome.” 

“I’m not thanking you for shit.” People heard that. He’s going thru his social media on ‘my’ iPhone stunned. “You’re living my life.”

“Like my new Tuxedo? It’s Tom Ford. I didn’t want to wear ‘my’ old Brooks Brothers tuxedo I wore for Mark’s wedding.”

“What did that cost me?” He snidely questions.

“Michael, not your concern little bro. I wanted to look my best for my 15 minutes of fame.” 

"My 15 minutes of fame!" He barks again.

“Like I said, I’m being you, including your stupid TikTok and Instagram. It’s what you wanted and it’s exhausting being a narcissist, keeping your ‘fans’ happy.” Actually I’m enjoying the attention and comments but I’m not letting him know. 

“Your TikToks are great and I can’t tell the difference in our posts and pics.” He calms down.

“Duh! We’re twins, you do realize that? You better hope I just don’t walk away tomorrow from your life. You’ll be screwed career wise. You’ll be designing dinky websites and taking crappy jobs.”

“You’d never do that, my life is so much better than your’s and you know it. You should be thanking me.”

“Try me. I’m the one doing you a huge favor, remember that!” I threaten him.

I’m in charge after that and we spend hours reviewing files and his work history. He doesn’t hesitate to answer any of my questions. After some quick shopping for clothes for him at Dick’s Sporting Goods, I drop him off at the entrance and head home. The long drive home gives me time for reflect on my new life. I'm really enjoying everything about it. After only 6 weeks, I don’t want to give it up. 

More Control

I'm living life exactly as Marcus would. The only difference is that I drink half as much as him. I love hanging with Jason and Mark, golfing, playing basketball and working out with them. I've slipped easily into his circle of friends. There's been a few incidences where I didn't quite catch a joke or references but they're usually drunk and don't notice. In Ann Arbor, I had work friends but outside of that I was a loaner, occasionally dating but nothing ever serious.

Other aspects of his life have fallen into place. I keep his appointment for a haircut with Steve at Halo, a hair salon not far from my place. It was a combination wash, haircut, manicure, eyebrow trim and hand job! As I was leaning back over the sink, he’s massaging both my heads at the same time. I’m wasn’t sure how to react but he whispers in my ear that he gets off at 8pm and he’d get me off by midnight if I pick him up. I play it cool as he makes out with me at the same time.

When I leave Halo, I post my shocked looked on Instagram. I pick him up at 8, take him out to eat, then back to my place. This is a regular haircut for my brother since he leads me back to my bedroom, wraps a condom from my drawer on me and rides it all night long. Marcus’ sex life is way better than mine and Steve doesn’t notice a difference just like Chad and Liam. I call Jason to apologize for blowing off Side Tracks but as soon as I say ‘haircut’, he calls me a slut and tells me how jealous he is. I’m grateful to Steve for the sex and for tidying up grooming details like my eyebrows  and cuticles.

I'm officially 'exclusive' with Chad but having too much fun with all this new attention. I’ve scheduled a trip to Detroit for a weekend with Liam. What can I say? He’s tight, fun and just my type. Chad thinks I'm going to a marketing conference in Detroit. Chad is great eye candy for my management to see me with and he’s as fun as Liam in bed. He’s been dating me longer than he did my brother but I don't see much of a future with him. Chad adds credibility to me as Marcus and I still explode when he screams out 'Marcus' as I ram his tight hole. The sex is awesome.

My job is going so well. I believe, no, I know I'm being groomed to be president, taking over Adam's spot. At least once a week, I do lunch with Adam and Robert where we talk about the future of Coleman and of Robert stepping back. They've both notice a change for the better in me, saying I'm more focused, more of a leader and creative.

Financially, I'm spending more than Marcus normally would but I did need a new tuxedo for the ANA, and joining the Merit Club wasn't cheap but it is a legit business expense for my taxes. I met with my Fidelity advisor, Andrew Gingerich, which is something Marcus never did in person, and never took an interest in his money. Good old Marcus, as usual, he only cared that he was making money. My advisor was happy to meet with me and help with diversifying my portfolio. In just the last month, my costs have dropped while my returns have increased significantly. 

One thing no one at Coleman noticed about the old Marcus is his embezzling of corporate funds over the years. We're talking about $500,000 per year that magically moved from marketing to his own personal Fidelity checking account via a Cayman account. No wonder his could just plop down $120,000 for his new BMW and $30,000 for his Merit Club membership. My brother would have eventually been caught and really ended up in jail. It took a while to unravel the money trail but then I returned it to Coleman, making sure it looks like a simple accounting error. My net worth has dropped by about $2m but more importantly, I have leverage over my brother.

Visit Number Three

It’s going to be a day of reckoning for my brother. I’ve been him for 10 weeks, making this our longest identity swap and also a lot more complex than when we were in college. I pick him up and head to our usual Sonny’s BBQ. Marcus doesn’t say a word during the short drive and he looks good but not happy at all.

“So what’s with the silence?” I carefully ask.

“Oh nothing really, just another month of rehab followed by 3 to 7 years in jail.”

“What? What the hell happened?”

“My worthless lawyer and a judge, with a stick up his ass for 4th time offenders.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect jail time for you. Can you appeal it?”

“Yes, and I could get parole in a few years.”

“When do you go to jail?”

“In about two weeks.”

In a small way, I feel bad for him then I think of his previous incidents, and him embezzling from his employer who adores him. He had it made financially just on his salary alone with no need to steal a penny. After a few fleeting thoughts like that, reality comes back and I think he’s not getting close to what he deserves. I’m also thrilled at the thought of keeping his life for myself.

“So you go straight to jail? No probation, no time in between?”

“The police will pick me up right here, the prison is in Jackson, Michigan. It’s for white collar criminals and addiction with continuing counseling.”

“Fuck man, fuck! What are you going to do?” I vent.

“How about we swap places and you do me a little favor.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like a plan, especially with that nice ankle bracelet you’re wearing. Do you still have urges to drink?”

“In all honesty, after I got the news of jail time, I wished I was at the 95th, downing shots with Jason.”

“Well, it’s quite a lot to accept. That’s normal.”

“You’ll probably be let out early. It’s not like you killed someone.”

“Yeah, my lawyer agrees with you on that, but still, three years in jail.”

“What about your life and job?”

“Just quit my job, pack everything up and put it in storage.” He says it too easily.

“Throw it all away?”

“Yeah and when I get out, I’ll be doing websites and marketing for ‘Sammy’s Garage’ in Ann Arbor like you.” He laughs at his put down.

“Maybe you will be, in fact, you probably will, but I won’t. I’ve grown accustom to your life.”

“You’re moving to a big city and getting a real job? Oh yeah, I so see that happening.” He mocks me. 

“Already a done deal bro, not giving it up.”

“Are you saying, you’re keeping my life?”

“Why not? I’m the better Marcus, my coworker Adam says I’ll be promoted to his spot in a few months when Robert retires. Look at me bro, I’m you without the drinking problem. I’m set for life—great salary, boyfriends, great friends, awesome condo and hot car.”

“Why not? Why not? Are you fucking insane? First, it’s not your life, it’s mine. Second, I won’t let you do it.”

“I’ve been thinking about this and it makes complete sense. I need a job, I’m perfect for it and I’m a natural. No one has a clue I’m not you, thanks to my looks and your coaching.”

“I’ll have my lawyer make sure you don’t, you’ll go to jail for fraud. I’ll claim I had no clue what you were doing.”

“I don’t think so bro, unless you want to spend more time in jail for embezzling funds.”

“What?” He looks shocked.

“I know you have millions hidden in accounts all around the world. I bet Coleman would love to know how you screwed them.”

“How did you find out?”

“Oh come on bro, I’m not stupid. I looked at your tax returns and even if you saved every penny,  you’d be lucky to have $3m in the bank. Then there’s mysterious deposits from and to an account in the Caymans. It took a little sleuthing but with my degree in finance, it started to make sense.  Then when ‘my’ buddy Javier called from the Caymans, it all fell into place.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I told you, I’m taking over your life. As you mentioned, it’s pretty sweet, I’m good at it and you were right, I was a little jealous.”

“You fucking bastard.” He curses under his breath.

“Calm down bro, it’s not too bad. You can’t use it, you won’t need it for a few years. It’s going to be our little secret from now on. Oh and it’s permanent too, so even when you do get out, don’t come asking for your life back.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I have gotten away with this for months now. By the way, if something happens to me, I’ve made arrangements to blow this wide open and you will be back in jail. Also, Javier is no longer helping me, I put an end to your scheme.” His mouth is hanging up.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to your own brother.”

“Ha! Seriously, you’re playing the brother card? My brother who calls once or twice a year, who I haven’t seen in years and who keeps me secret. Nice try.” I laugh and mock him.

Marcus just sits there saying nothing, staring at his ribs. I can see he’s seething and thinking of his options. He’s just got to realize it’s checkmate and accept it.

“Bro, I’m doing you a huge favor. Your reputation remains intact and it’s actually gotten better with me in charge. I’m now well known in the marketing world. It’s best for both of us but it’s only fair that I benefit the most. When you get out, I’ll be here to help you get on your feet, hell, I’ll give your plenty of start up money and as me, you can create your own company even. You’ve got time to plan it.”

“Fine!” He blurts out defeated.

“Bro, I’ll come see you in prison, keep you updated on things. You’ll be fine, we’ll both be fine.”

We finish our lunch and he doesn’t say a word the entire drive back. We pull up front, I walk him in and give him a hug. 

“Cya bro.” Are my last words to him. I take my time driving back to my new life in Chicago.

THE END

[kenmei]

-ˏˋ THE STARS ARE BLIND! ˊˎ-

♡ the first installment of what love is, i think... ft. oikawa tooru x gn!reader

cw: angst if u squint, fluff, romance, slice of life, swearing, slightly suggestive, hints at doin the ~deed~, timskip!au

synopsis: when your grandmother said “love comes unexpectedly”, you never believed her, but here, in argentina, you learn that she is very much right; love does come unexpectedly

wc: 1100+

notes from mei!

oikawa fr grabbed me by the ass and now im here

from your very first heartbreak at eleven, to your very most recent eight months ago, your grandma always comforted you the same; your favourite home-cooked meal, a life lesson told through her enthralling days of youth, and the words “love comes unexpectedly, my dear. what will be, will be.”

she’s philosophical like that, always educating you with the notion that fate isn’t truly in your hands, and telling you stories she likes to call her parables.

at first, you never liked it, but at the big number twenty-seven, you think you’re finally starting to understand.

it starts on the beach; the argentinian sun burning bright. children are yelling and screaming as the tide rushes in, you see mouths move in the form of a shout as a ball gets tossed around. a few feet over, there’s a barbeque. a little bit further, near the lifeguard tower, there are people tanning. 

you, seated at the bar, you’re taking a drink from whatever alcoholic beverage the bartender stirred you up. it tastes good, you think, swirling it around before taking another sip.

involuntarily, you look over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the hundreds of people on the beach. music is blasting in your ears as your eyes scan and scan, you see a funny towel wrapped around a child, you huff out a laugh.

and then, a mop of brown hair a few meters away. you don’t think much, it’s just brown hair, but at a second glimpse, your mouth drops in the same beat as your eyes.

he seems to notice this, making direct eye contact with you as his lips twitch into a smirk. he raises an eyebrow just to tease, before he’s combing a hand through his hair and turning to the side, catching a volleyball before tossing it into the air and spiking back the direction it came.

(you later learn his name is oikawa tooru; all thanks to the numerous news reporters showing up on the beach to interview him seconds after).

you wonder how that miniscule interaction brought you here: five months later, still in his bed, waking up to the morning light seeping in through his windows. your everything is sore (minus your heart, as stupid as that sounds) and a smile that screams whipped! paints your lips. 

you turn and he’s there. you think he’s beautiful like this; asleep and at peace. for once, he’s there to awake with you, instead of coming back from a morning jog.

one of his eyes open, “what a creep, watching me sleep like that.”

his tongue pokes from the corner of his lips, making you roll your eyes and turn your back on him. you can feel his smile; sturdy arms move to wrap around your torso, pulling you closer.

his chin hooks over your shoulder, he presses a kiss (perhaps it’s an apology he most certainly doesn’t mean, or maybe he actually is insatiable) to your cheek, “so cold to me, after all i’ve done for you.”

even if it’s sarcasm, you can’t help but feel a little guilty. turning around, you press a kiss to the corner of his lips. his eyes light up, his half-asleep grin stretching wider.

“good morning.” you mumble against his lips, involuntarily making sure that from the shoulders down, the thick duvet covers you.

he seems to notice this, grinning like a dork as he begins to fully wake up. “why are you hiding? i’ve seen it all already.”

“pervert. i’ll expose you to the press.”

tooru chuckles, breathy and light as he moves to hold you once again. “you wouldn’t dare.”

a kiss to your bare shoulder, then another on your neck. it tickles, so you shy away. he laughs at this, nosing at your jaw.

it’s warm. he’s warm.

you close your eyes, finding enough comfort in his presence to fall back asleep.

his whines, however, stopping you.

“hey,” he noses at your jaw a bit more aggressively, dragging out his vowels. “don’t do that.”

“sleepy.” you mumble, trying to ignore him.

it’s futile, you’ve learned that oikawa is pretty damn good at getting what he wants; he tickles you, kisses you, hugs you way too tight and even starts singing really bad right into your ear.

when you start laughing, tooru stops, opting to turn you on your back. you stare up at him, arms encircling around his neck to pull him down. he stares at your lips, before kissing you like you’ve both got all the time in the world.

it’s slow and careful; a stark contrast to just a few hours ago, where teeth clashed and lips were bruised.

now, with the light making shadows dance on his skin, he takes his sweet time.

skin to skin; warm hands caress your sides. he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

you feel like crying.                                  

the urge feels sudden, but from the minute you awoke ‘till now, it just seems like the buildup took its time.

his head falls into the juncture of your neck. you wrap your arms around him and breathe. you kiss his bare shoulder as realization strikes you: these five spontaneous months with him, are the best you’ve ever experienced.

you start to worry that maybe all these mornings with him are illusions—that the brew of overwhelming emotions is only being felt on your side.

but when he nips at your neck as he reaches your hand under the blanket, you feel that it’s not only you.

for once, you don’t feel the need for words to secure what you’ve got with him. strangely, with him, it’s natural.

like how the sun rises from the horizon, or how the moon tugs the tides at its leisure; it’s natural. so you let those tears fall because this is your reality. he’s the love you’ve been chasing after and it’s real.

(you cry because you realize your grandma and all her words that used to piss you off are true).

“whoa.. easy, baby. what’s wrong?”

(you cry because you never thought a mere five months could wreck you this hard).

words can’t seem to form. you shake your head, covering your eyes with your arm. being naked is one thing, but feeling it is a whole different category.

(you cry because you realize there isn’t anything more you want than this).

tooru smiles. he smiles at your hand that grasps his wrist tightly. his chest clenches as you exhale another cry.

a thumb swipes at your cheek. soft lips kissing the arm covering your eyes.

when you finally let him move your arm, he stares into your teary eyes and sees pure, overwhelming love and vulnerability; when he realizes that maybe this is it—that he’s staring right at his future, he can’t help the tears brimming his eyes, either.

tooru exhales a laugh, kissing your tear-tracked cheek. “let’s see what this love can do, pretty baby.”

(silently, you thank your grandma, because even from above, she’s still taking care of you. it’s waaay different from how you’re used to, but you wouldn’t have it any other way).

[pollylynn]

Title: Square One WC: 1100 Episode: A Murder Is Forever (6 x 08)

He’d like to say she can’t resist his stories. In fact, he often does say that she can’t resist—has never been able to resist—his stories. But it’s not, strictly speaking, true. This morning, for example, she is not at all interested in the story of Linus the Lion, which might have something to do with the fact that the story of Linus the Lion is one that he should have stopped telling about six exits back, but he’s a writer. He doesn’t always get to choose. And she’s a captive audience who is pretty good at being a fugitive audience when she puts her mind to it. She has put her mind to fleeing the story of Linus the Lion, and he should just take the hint. 

He mostly takes the hint. He scoops up the story of Alice Clark and tells that one, instead. He has to vamp a bit. The raw material he has on her is largely derived from day-time talk shows he’d moped is way through on the book tour, missing Beckett all the while and making pre-emptive, melodramatic plans to vanquish every problem their relationship might encounter, armed with pop psychology and a can-do-it attitude. 

No one is much interested in the story of Alice Clark, though. Ryan seems to think the state of her car is more relevant than her revolutionary take on leveraging one’s inner animal in pursuit of  a more perfect relationship. When he pointedly comments that ten grand is a lot for even a best-selling author to be walking around with, Lanie doesn’t even spare him an eye roll, let alone ask what sum is commonly found on the person of such a person. Beckett Houdinis her way out of the Alice Clark story, quite possibly because he is his own worst enemy and can’t help tying it back to Linus the Lion. 

His next story up isn’t going to be winning him any Pulitzers. It’s not even going to land him on Oprah’s book-of-the-month-club list—which, financially speaking, is clearly the bigger win. Not that wins, big, small, or medium-sized are in the cards for him today. Nobody wants to hear about Barrett Hawke. Retrospectively, he doesn’t want hear about Barrett Hawke, especially not out of his own mouth, because now everyone assumes that he needs his dirt swept, that he has needed his dirt swept, that sweeping of his dirt has occurred, and for the love of kittens, every single person currently giving him the stink eye has seen his police jacket—completely with not-exactly-flattering photos of him dressed in the lost and found’s greatest hits, post–police horse caper. What could he have possibly have had swept? 

He doesn’t have a chance to defend himself, though. He doesn't have a chance to say that his intel on Hawke is third hand at best before they’re back to Alice Clark's story, so maybe she’s having more trouble resisting that one. Maybe he’s been forgiven for his foray into madness earlier when he’d implied that he was doing her favors by inviting her into Linus-land. Okay, even he is a fugitive from the story that it will be that easy to extricate himself from this morass of Linus-related stupidity. 

She’s really only interested in the Alice Clark basics—she was an author, she was well-known, she had been in possession of an enviable rolodex. And she’s only interested in those dry details because she’s fixated on all the things Alice wouldn’t have done based on who she was. She’s interested in those because she wants to shoot down his stories about assassins coming after her in search of juicy client secrets, about Alice knowing she was privy to too much worth killing for and trying to flee. She is purely interested in the boing facts right up until they make the jaw-dropping find of the diamond in the hotel safe. 

She’s into the story then. She’s caught up in it as she insists the damned thing can’t possibly be real and he insists that nothing at all makes sense if it isn’t real. They stand there doing the kind of spark-emitting theory-building that should probably require a signed permission note from the hotel staffer’s guardian for a good, long while. . It’s the hotel staffer’s presence—it is, in fact, the hotel staffer’s exceptionally polite clearing of his throat—that ruins her immersion, and he can’t help thinking that if the man were truly worthy of a position at a five-star establishment, he’d have ducked out five minutes ago so the two of them could have made sure that the room didn’t go to waste. 

“We should take it to my guy,” he says when it’s clear that the probability of the two of them making good use of the room has truly dipped to zero. “My jeweler. He’ll know, obviously. And he can keep his mouth shut.” 

“Can he?” Her head snaps up as she says it. He catches the most fleeting glimpse of white-hot curiosity flickering behind her eyes. “One of your guys?” She lays it on thick as she schools her expression into something bored, something skeptical.

It’s too late, though. He knows it, and she knows he knows. He has caught the scent of a story she really wants to know—a story he’s fed her a hundred ridiculous versions of, because she won’t just come out and ask, and it’s far too much fun to drive her mad by playing innocent. Except maybe today it’s not enough fun. Maybe it’s not more fun than making some Linus-related amends by telling her a story he knows she really wants to hear. 

Eventually telling her.

Because the damned hotel staffer seems intent on guarding with his life this perfectly good, perfectly not-in-use room for some damned reason. And he’s certainly not telling her the story of the ring as they fight their way through cross-town traffic. He is definitely not leaving her alone with his guy long enough for her to work her interrogation magic on an innocent party. 

But he thinks he’ll tell her before the day is out. Hotel staffer notwithstanding, in fact, he makes a promise right then to tell her. He lifts one finger and just barely brushes the skin-warmed precious metal resting beneath her buttoned-up blouse. 

“My guy?” He drinks in the furious blush that creeps over her. “All my guys can keep secrets, Beckett.” 

A/N: Inexcusably long for something with no morphousness. 

images via kissthemgoodbye

[natromanxoff]

Record Mirror (December 14, 1974): 51/?

QUEEN KILLING THEM SOFTLY IN FRANKFURT

IT WAS, said the tall and studious Brian May, like playing to a vacuum cleaner. "We were just pouring it out and they (the audience) were sucking it in, with nothing coming back. I tell you, for the first time in many months I felt like I'd done a hard day's work when I came off stage."

May, along with the rest of the band, is sitting in the diner of Frankfurt's Why Not club reflecting on Queen's second date in Germany. The mood is not bad, but there's an undercurrent of steely determination following the difficulties of that night's gig.

The fact is, support band Lynyrd Skynyrd. were exactly what stoned-out Frankfurt wanted. As in England with Golden Earring, so in Germany with Queen, Lynyrd Skynyrd make an over-poweringly succesful support band. Here In Frankfurt there were even more difficulties for the English and. Most of the audience are American GI's, looking like inmates from the local borstal with their cropped hair and rippling muscles.

As you enter the 1100 capacity hall, the air is stuffed with the stench of dope — an intermingling of hash and grass and the sweat of a crowd at least 300 over the top.It's a strange place, former stock-exchange for farmers, complete with balcony, and surrounded by tropical plants.

Up on the balcony above the stage a group of Queen supporters self-consciously tap their feet to Skynyrd's rhythmic weave. Roger Taylor, ever grinning, appears to check on th band, notes the wild applause and disappears, no doubt to plan strategy.

There's a long break between sets leading to the dissipation of part of the crowd. Heidi, the whizz-kid of EMI Germany, explains the local GI's problem: "Zey have to report back to camp by 11.00 pm". So when Queen's little rock 'n' roll drama explodes, there are considerably fewer people end even less enthusiasm.

Presence

Mercury, the self-styled rock supremo, looks unabashed as Queen open with as much presence as a band can muster. Lights, tapes, and screaming dynamics combine to counter the audience apathy. It's ahighly professional first assault. Procession, Now I'm Here, and Ogre Battle make a promising start which draws warm applause. But unlike many gigs, this one did not cook to boiling point. If anything the crowd were almost undecided when Queen departed after an energetic stab. It took fully two minutes before muted applause turned to a good old stmp and chant, bringing the boys back on stage for a stirring finale.

Freddy stalks the stage with controlled aggression as they bash into Big Spender and you realise that here's a rock artist who can sing, cavort, and write songs with an almost contemptuous level of excellence. He is a classic rock star — complete with costume changes and bare hairy chest. Seems, his only real need is to develop that outrageous off-stage campery into the act. He's very much the mincing Queen, yet on stage this seemingly natural personality is overtaken with host of: "Right now we'd like to do" type announcements. Roger Taylor, a veritable demon on the drums and very fine musician, has more idea when he tells the crowd to get off their arses. Nevertheless there were those in the company who felt Queen showed too much aggression in the face of audience apathy.

Anyway, by all account there's a huge row in the dressing room afterwards which sends the EMI rep scurring away with cries of: "Don't let them break the windows."

The Swedes were apparently as wild as English audiences, but in Germany it's different.

Next stop is Hamburg with Skynyrd supporting for the last time.

Unapproachable

More talk on the way back to the hotel suggests the band will be unapproachable and there's even talk of spending the rest of the evening with Slade, who just happen to be staying at the same hotel. The word is that Queen are THE most fastidious band and no matter how good the gig, they (or Freddy paticularly) will find fault.

Eventually Brian and John walk into the bar. They look cool but not too unnerved and they're all prepared to go clubbing.

According to them there've been a few problems already on this, still young European tour like the incident which decapitated their equipment truck. Apparently some hapless roadie was hurtling through the Swedish night when he failed to notice a low-bridge warning. The lorry went on through, losing its root and half the amps in the process. Two gigs had to be cancelled while another truck was driven out from London in time for the Munich gig, a first in Germany. According to Heidi, Munich was a smash: "The audience just didn't know what had hit them," she says, adding that tonight's comparative failure does not over concern her: "Queen will be huge," she says confidently, "I'm sure they are going to be enormous, but it will take a year."

None of the boys seem overly worried and the general feeling in their road party — and among the visiting journalists — is one of disdain for the Frankfurt crowd. A crowd of dopers into boogie rock is hardly likely to appreciate futuristic guitar pyrotechnics and 1975 flash a la Mercury.

"Still," muses May, now installed at the night spot, "they could have returned something. The more an audience feed back the better we play — naturally — but there I just felt like I was wasting my time."

Electronic

He's a musician of the electronic school, very much on top of the latest developments in the uses of amplified sound. On stage he uses two American Echoplex units. The guitar he built himself over two years: "There's nothing special or different about it, it's just a good instrument." The amplifiers, he draws from a good old British tradition. Back in the days when The Shadows were the inspiration for every rock group in the country (they were celled rhythm groups then) Vox amplifires were renowned. Now, in contrast to almost all of his contemporaries, May uses the good old Vox AC 30, or to be more precise, nine of them (three are spare). 

Over a crab cocktail and non alcoholic drink (he's still recovering from Hepititis) Brian quashes the popular misconception that Queen are just a studio band manipulated by highly professional technicians. The truth is self-evident in the stage act. They compare favourably with their recorded sound. But Brian goes further. 

"Do people really believe it's all down to the studio?" he asks indignantly. 

Well, er, yes Brian, Trident Studios has got a reputation for expertise, and you must admit there's a lot of production goes into the Queen discs.

"OK," he returns, "but most of that studio direction comes from us.

"We think of all the ideas. We love being in the studio. We're full of thoughts on how the songs should come out."

Fair enough. But what about being on the road? There are nothing but tours ahead for the band. Can they all cope? What will they do to keep sane?

"I suppose this," he looks unimpressed. "I can't drink more than a couple of pints so there's no danger of me getting wrecked. I must admit though it's going to be long haul. It'll be really good for us but I'd prefer not to be away so long. We're just going home for Christmas then we're off again to America." 

Meanwhile on the next table, Freddy Mercury is being his ourtageous self: "When we were in Copenhagen dear, we went to a Russian restaurant where naturally I ordered the speciality of the house. It was delicious. I said 'what in this' and they told me I was eating bear. Bear, dear, I loved it."

Freddy and Roger Taylor seem to be taking Europe in their stride, and a few indifferent gigs won't stop their growing style in this band. Freddy's voice is on the way to giving out, yet he still has time to confide that he simply must do something about his hair. Perhaps he should send for his personal hairdresser? 

The Queen has her eyes on an entourage no doubt, and what's the betting she gets it...?

[jjkyaoi]

this is quite long (1100 words or so) and i wanted to write more than this 😔😔

so you know those like, stories of pta parents nshit??? imagine that but with sbi yeah trust me on this trUST ME-

and so in this au i guess, puffy is school therapist and sam is like a teacher.

puffy and sam are like, mega best friends that have known eachother since highschool or sumn yeah??

anyways, tommy has been getting into fights and arguments with his classmates for whatever reason, and the staff have called dadza to come to meetings and shit but its always tommys oldest brother wilbur (im not projecting being the oldest siblling in my family and being forced to mature quicker wdym-)

sam, being tommys favorite teacher ofc, decides "mmm, yeah hes mine now," and we get some nice dad!sam bc its waht tommy and us deserve.

but tommy is still getting into these fights so they send him to the school therapist and she takes one look at this scrawny, scuffed up kid, with holes in his shirt and dirt on his pants and ALSO decides "thats my son now,"

of course sam and puffy find out that tommy doesnt have the best home life but "its okay, he doesnt hit us so its not abuse :)" and theyre like "mmMMMmn no tommy thats still abuse sorta" bc having a father that doesnt pay attention to any of his kids is abuse im pretty sure. and they decide together that theyre gonna try to get the rights of tommy, or something to ATLEAST bee a semi-gaurdigan bc they love him now and thats their son >:(

and somehow they manage it, they get shared gaurdianship over tommy with dadza. i dont know how bc i am but a humble person in need of dad!sam and momma!puffy

BUT they do, and now whenever tommy gets into fights, its one of them (or both) that comes to the meeting. the other staff dont question it bc they know how intimidating sam and puffy are about their "children" (its mainly just kids that they pick up and are like "ur my child now" but nO ONE HAS TO KNOW THAT)

sam and puffy both start asking about these fights and how they can helpn all, partly bc its their job but mainly bc they love him as their own. n slowly but surely they help tommy not get into fights. most of the time its the other student who starts it bc they know that tommy is easliy angered but there are times when tommy starts it (mainly for good reason tho and they just dont have the heart to punish him, just softly scorn)

one day tho, tommy gets into a fight,and the staff start the whole dance of calling dadza, him not picking up and just letting puffy or sam go in place.

EXCEPT he pickes up this time, and it desolves into fucking CHAOS in the office. like, the whole office knows that tommy is sam and puffys kid and so they gather around this one front desk worker who is the unfortunate soul who has to talk to him and are like "is that him??? im gonna wring his neck when i see him" cuz the office has seen tommy in there one too many times with a black or bloody nose or both.

and so they tell him that his son has been in a fight and they need him to come to a meeting for it, and dadzas like "yeah sure, what do i need to be there?" and they tell him, but they realize they have a problem on their hands, bc philza NEVER fucking picks up - and by never, u mean this is probably the first time they heard his voice-and bc philzanever picksuo they usually just tell puffy or sam that they have a meeting wayyy before they call philza bc the outcome is always the sam.

so they call up both sam and puffy with major reluctance bc they have a feeling they know whatll happen. n theyre like "hey, uh, so you dont need to attent that meeting for tommy today. his dad is coming in-" "oh, HELL NO, that fucker is NOT going in place of us. expect to see me AND sam at the meeting today" sam is very similar except with more swears which is a tab bit surprising but whatever yknow?

and so the meeting rolls around and tommy is sitting inbetween sam and puffy but notices theres another chair to the right of sam and fucking dadza walks in, and tommy feels his heart stop he feels puffy holding his left hand and tryring to get him to take deep breaths but his anxiety is so overwhelming and he hasnt seen his dad in almost 3 months and whyisheherewhyishehere-

so tommy is having, like a silent anxiety attack as we all do. and sam i scowling at philza and hes like borderline growling and baring his teeth at him lol

philza takes a seat next to sam with reluctance and tries to look around him to see tommy but sams like "nuh uh, fucker. leave my son alone." and philzas like " 'my son?!' " before the meeting starts

(also the other family who tommy got into a fight with is all watching this go down bc theyre highkey confused bc "sam and puffy arent tommyy parents???" bc this is definitely not the first time tommy has punched their kid)

during the meeting tommy comes down off his high of his anxiety attack and is really exhausted, and whenever hes asked a question he whispers it puffy and she says it for him. philza doesnt get a word in and before he knows it the meeting is over.

as they stand up, he tries to get tommy to come with him to go home but sam is faster than him and he goes "hey tommy! lets go and do some crosswords in my classroom yeah?" and tommy is for it, one bc he loves doing crosswords and itll help him calm down a bit more, and two he does n o t want to speak to philza.

n they leave and philza is left with puffy and the other staff member who are minding their fucking business bc heaven knows they dont want to cross puffy whens she in a rage. and they all expect like an outburst of anger and yelling, and them having to pull her away so she doesnt murder him where he stands but no, its not that at all.

philza turns to puffy to say something but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the way shes looking at him, theres an inferno of rage building up inside her, but she just goes,"he's not your son." and leaves.

*holds this gently* thank you for the,,,.. thank you for the food i’m. i’m soft now. :( anyway haha fuck c!phil he can go suck a cows ass amiright!!!! :DD

[laurenairay]

Take a Chance - D. Hamilton

Word Count: 12.7k

Summary: Ashley Miller is a Sunday-morning regular at her local coffee shop. Dougie Hamilton is the associate art curator who catches her eye.

Warnings: coffee shop au, some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, anxiety

A/N: This is my @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange fic for @huttons​! I had a lot of fun researching & creating this fic gift, and I tried to incorporate all of the preferences you stated and that we discussed. This is very self-indulgent too, definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, and I’m not going to go into the very niche research rabbit holes I fell down! Bringing this OC to life made me so happy, and I had a blast incorporating the coffee shop au element. I hope you enjoy this! 💚

Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​, @texanstarslove​ and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ because they all listened to me stress while writing hah.

*

“Large latte for Ashley!”

Ashley Miller looked up from her laptop, smiling at her favourite barista at the counter. She got up from her table, leaving her laptop and scone briefly as she collected her drink, before heading back to her seat. Sunday mornings were the same every week – arrive at Storm Surge coffee shop when they opened at 7am, park herself at a table in the back corner, and consume a steady flow of coffee as she worked. Sure, her work might vary – teaching Medieval History at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill meant her lesson topics were all over the spectrum – but she just found that everything from writing notes for her classes that week to marking essays at the end of the semester became easier if she had the thrum of the coffee shop around her.

That, and she knew she’d just spend her entire weekend burrowed in her house if she didn’t get out.

Having moved to Raleigh 6 years ago to undertake her PhD, Ashley had accepted a teaching job at the very same university she’d studied at when she’d completed her studies a year ago, and she hadn’t looked back since. There was just something about Raleigh that she had fallen in love with, only a 30 minute drive away from her workplace, something that had spoken to her very soul, and actually being able to pass on knowledge about the subject that she was so passionate about made her so incredibly happy. Sure, her parents had never understood her love for 11th to 13th century European history (nor anyone else from her small town in South Dakota) but Ashley had never cared about that – New York had given her the opportunity to grow as a person during her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees, but Raleigh had given her the opportunity to thrive.

And she would forever be grateful for that.

Sundays though…Sundays were something she cherished. This independent coffee shop had been a blessing when she’d found it early on in her PhD research, and they had never complained about her taking up a table for essentially the whole day (and she did pay for each of the many coffees she consumed). Baristas and bakers had come and gone over the past 6 years, but there were a couple that had stuck around recently - and a year ago when she officially became ‘Dr Ashley Miller’, her favourite barista Andrei had even given her a piece of chocolate cake on the house to celebrate. Storm Surge coffee shop was a home away from home.

Of course, there was another reason that Sunday coffee shop time was one of her favourite things in her week…

Tall Cute Guy.

He was a regular every Sunday morning, and had been for the past year - three Sundays a month he would order a mocha and an americano to go, but one Sunday a month he would come in an hour earlier and order just an americano, and drink it in the shop instead while reading an old paperback book. Every single time, like clockwork.

Okay, yes, that sounded a little stalkerish. But he was so cute. Ashley pretty much always had her earphones in playing music so she had never caught his name, but his blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and warm smile had caught her eye straight away. And he was so tall, she couldn’t have missed him if she’d tried. She’d never spoken to him, never even said hi in passing, but occasionally she would link eyes with him and he would smile at her. And that smile was enough to send her heart fluttering. Ridiculous really, but it brought her a little joy.

What was the harm in smiling back at a cute guy every now and again, right?

*

Dougie Hamilton walked into the North Carolina Museum of Art with a smile on his face. To be honest, it could’ve been for a multitude of reasons. His career was finally heading upwards, having moved museums to become Associate Curator of European Art a couple of years ago, and he loved his work. He had recently renovated his kitchen, which was now looking pretty sleek and awesome, if he did say so himself. His colleagues had genuinely become some of his closest friends, and he had a standing monthly poker night with several of them. But his smile today wasn’t because of any of that.

No, his smile today was because it was Sunday morning, and he’d just picked up his regular coffee order for him and his boss.

Speaking of…

“So, did you finally talk to your coffee shop crush, or did you just awkwardly stare at her like a weirdo again?”

“Oh fuck off,” Dougie grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush as his boss Jordie’s words.

It was far too early for this – he’d only just walked into their shared office for fuck’s sake! Jordie just hooted laughter at his embarrassment as he took his mocha from Dougie, making Dougie groan. “One day you’re going to have to talk to her, man. It’s just getting sad now,” Jordie teased.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t we have a museum to open?” Dougie scowled.

Jordie just beamed even more, wiggling his eyebrows as he left their office. Dougie groaned again, running his hands through is unruly hair before he sighed. Coffee shop crush. Hah. Jordie wasn’t wrong though. Not really. His crush…Mystery Laptop Woman…was one of the reasons he always volunteered to pick the two of them up coffee before the museum opened up on a Sunday morning. Jordie had come along with him only once to pick up their coffee, about 6 months ago, and ever since then he hadn’t let Dougie’s shy smile at her go. Of course, Dougie barely knew anything about her – only that she was always in early on a Sunday, always completely consumed by her work, and she had such a super cute concentration face, whatever it is that she worked on. He could never quite tell – sometimes she had a book or two with her, sometimes it was a stack of papers – but he knew for sure that she appeared to mainline coffee like a pro. Probably some kind of teacher?

He’d certainly never had a teacher that beautiful, that was for sure.

Her long dark hair was always down and always a little messy, like she ran her hands through it often (which she did, he’d noticed). Her warm hazel eyes were hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses, and her lips were always coloured in varying shades of dark pink and red. He’d only seen her standing a couple of times, but he’d caught enough of a glimpse of her long legs to have some very inappropriate thoughts. She just looked so kind, so friendly…and so beautiful. Dougie had never been able to catch her name though – she’d always had a full coffee or at least half a coffee left whenever he was in the shop, so he couldn’t even find out sneakily that way. But whoever she was, whatever she did, when he occasionally got lucky enough for her to look at him, her smile made his entire body light up like a fireworks show. It was a bit pathetic really, how much just a smile from her made his entire day, but he was a year into it now and he wasn’t going to stop that for anything. He had a great career, some great friends, and a pretty great life, even if he was tragically single.

What was the harm in smiling at a beautiful woman whenever he got the chance, right?

*

“Alright, we’ve nearly run out of time now, but just one final thing I want you to think about for Monday’s love in the middle ages class,”

On cue, her students groaned, making Ashley grin.

“Hey, I’m giving you a head’s up here – I could just let you walk into our general lecture blind?” she shrugged, teasing.

That got her a few laughs at least. She’d take that.

“Okay, so we know through our focus on the Medieval Expansion of Europe that one of the biggest tales about Eleanor of Aquitaine in the latter half of the 1100s was of her role in the courts of love. What I want you all to look into is whether these courts of love have the possibility of being a real thing, or whether they feed into the chivalric notions of her contemporaries and were fabricated from the courtly love dynamics of knights and maidens. Just to give us some talking points, okay?”

Her students murmured their agreement, with most of them writing down a reminder. That would have to be good enough for her. At least this way, hopefully someone would discuss the talking points with her in class – she’d found out the hard way last year that there was nothing worse for a university professor than completely uninterested students. She needed something to feed off.

“Alright then, class dismissed. Have a great weekend everyone!”

Ashley moved to her laptop, switching off the projected powerpoint presentation as her students filed out of the classroom, but jumped in shock slightly as she noticed the head of her department sitting in the back corner. How long had he been there?! What was he doing there in the first place? She just hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt, as he walked up to the front of the room.

Rod Brind’Amour was a legend in the History department for a good reason. His knowledge of military history pre-1800s was unmatched by anyone, but it was his research on the first and second crusades that had inspired Ashley through much of her PhD. Sure, he wasn’t her direct supervisor, but their work interlinked enough that she’d spent many office hours with him debating the second crusade with fervour. For such a big man, he was such a nerd, and he’d made her feel so welcome as soon as he offered her the teaching position at the end of her PhD, with the promise that she would be able to continue her research to inspire future minds. She had been so moved by his words that she hadn’t hesitated to accept the job. How could she not, when someone of his calibre believed in her?

One year in, she wasn’t regretting it at all

“Very smart, setting up some talking points for Monday’s class. I’m so glad I volunteered you to run this year’s Love in the Middle Ages lectures. You’re much better at them than I was,” Rod mused.

Ashley snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. Oh thank god. It’s true that this seminar was one part of the large mandatory Medieval and Early Modern Studies course…but it suited her perfectly.

“That’s because my research focuses on Medieval Queens and the exchange of power they brought to their marriage countries, whereas yours is the effect of each of the crusades through military history. Bleurgh,” she snickered, “Linking today’s Medieval Expansion of Europe class with the generic Love in the Middle Ages lectures on Mondays is just easy,”

“Speak for yourself,” Rod laughed, “give me military tactics any day,”

Ashley just grinned. Some things never changed. “Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, packing up her laptop into its case.

“Just wanted to check in with you, in general,” Rod shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her desk.

Ashley couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “I’m doing okay yeah, thanks. Last year’s first semester was more of a struggle for sure, but I don’t have that transition from PhD student and TA to full teaching this time round. I’ve definitely settled in quicker – and this batch of freshman feel a lot more engaged already,”

“That’s good! It definitely shows that you’re handling things well,” Rod nodded, smiling back at her, “But I meant in your life outside of the university too,”

Ashley frowned. What? “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

Rod laughed softly at her expression. “I know last year you were trying to find your stride, but this year you’ve already got it, so I’m just checking that you’ve got things balanced outside of work too. It’s far too easy to make teaching your entire life – and I don’t want you to burn out,” Rod explained. “I value you here too much for that,”

Ashley’s heart melted a little at his concern, but she just shook his head. “I may not have much going on for me outside of work, but I do get out. I spend my Sundays in a local coffee shop,” she admitted.

Her mind briefly flashed to Tall Cute Guy, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind before she started blushing. So not appropriate for work.

Rod frowned slightly, but nodded. “At least you’re getting out of the house. Just promise me you’ll work on finding time for yourself too?”

“I promise,” Ashley nodded, “I intend to be here for a long time, so I definitely don’t want to burn out,”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Rod grinned, “I’d better get going – see you at the faculty meeting later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ashley grimaced.

Rod just laughed at her disgruntled face, lifting his hand in a wave as he left the room. As she packed the rest of her belongings, Ashley couldn’t help but to think over Rod’s words. Was she in danger of a burn-out? Surely not, so early on in her career? Maybe she did need more of a balance in her life…but how?

*

Another Sunday, another early morning. Sure, Ashley could give herself a lie in every now and again, but that would mean not being able to relax on her Sunday evening, to not have the chance to unwind and reset before the working week starts up again on Monday morning. Spending all weekend in her little 2 bed house wouldn’t do her any good, even as comforting as she’d made it.

Besides, Storm Surge coffee shop was such a part of her routine now, that it would feel wrong to not go in at her usual time. Seeing Andrei the morning barista, Marty the supervisor and Jaccob the baker (who occasionally popped his head out) always made her happy – and as Rod said only a couple of days ago, she needed to make sure she actually kept a balance in her life.

So, as always, just after 7am, Ashley walked through the coffee shop door. She’d skipped eating any breakfast this morning, intent on getting one of the shop’s amazing scones fresh out of the oven, and as soon as she spotted her favourite blueberry-lemon scones in the display, something in her chest settled. Yes, this was exactly why she came every week. This feeling of home.

“Good morning Ashley! Your usual latte?”

Ashley smiled at Andrei, nodding. “Yes please. And one of the blueberry-lemon scones!”

Andrei smiled even wider, if that was possible, and immediate set about inputting her order into the cash register. It was then that she noticed something new on Andrei’s nametag. A pink sparkly kitten sticky. Huh. That was new.

“Nice sticker,” she teased.

“Very sparkly, no? Marty gave it to me,” Andre nodded.

“Oh, Marty did huh?” Ashley grinned.

Interestingly, Andrei blushed. She knew she hadn’t been imagining things. The poor Russian guy just blushed harder, spluttering incoherently, until Ashley took pity on him. It wasn’t like she could be mean to Andrei – he was just too adorable.

“I think the sticker is really cute, Andrei. It was sweet of Marty to give it to you,” Ashley said with a fond smile.

“Thank you! I will tell Marty you like it,” Andrei beamed.

Bless him.

Andrei handed her a scone on a plate, allowing her to go to her usual table in the back corner, setting up her laptop while she waited for her coffee to be ready. She heard a door out the back open, and Andrei quickly slipped away, making her smile.

“AHHHHHHHHHH MR SVECHNIKOV!”

Marty. Ashley just giggled, shaking her head before putting her earphones in for her background music. Yeah, this coffee shop definitely felt like home.

She quickly got lost in writing her lecture notes, going off on tangents that she knew she’d have to rein in later when she edited. It was a full hour before she even looked away from her screen, only to see the shop busy and bustling, every single table full. What the hell? She looked over to see both Andrei and Marty working the counter, only confirming her suspicions that they really had gotten busy while she was lost in her thoughts. Wow. Full at 8am was a new one for sure. Maybe a convention of some kind?

And it was then that she saw Tall Cute Guy walk in. Today he was wearing a pretty blue sweater, bring out the beautiful blue in his eyes, making her smile on instinct. So cute. But then she noticed him being given just the one coffee…he was planning on drinking in, and there were no tables? No!

It made her heart clench to watch him looking around the coffee shop, becoming more and more disheartened…until he noticed her. Maybe, could she, yes. Ashley bit her bottom lip but tilted her head towards the empty chair at her table, earning the biggest smile. She actually did it. She actually offered him the chair at her table. Shit. Her heart started beating faster as he walked over, and she took her earphones out as he came to a stop next to her seat, looming over her.

“I, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked softly.

Huh. Such a gentle voice on such a big man. Yeah she could totally handle this.

“Please, go ahead,” Ashley nodding, smiling as she waved her hand to indicate, “it’s so busy in here today,”

Oh no. Was that too forward, acknowledging that they’re both regulars?

“Definitely busier than usual, eh?” he mused, “I’ll try not to disturb your work, I’ll only be here for about an hour,”

Ashley laughed, but shook her head. She was just glad he hadn’t been weirded-out by her acknowledgement. That would’ve been so awkward. Her stomach was filled with enough butterflies as it was. “You won’t disturb me, I promise. Sit as long as you like,”

He smiled widely at her, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting down, Ashley just quickly shuffling her papers out of the way for him. He nodded his thanks at her, pulling a paperback book out of his satchel. Then he cleared his throat, so she looked up at him curiously.

“I’m Dougie, by the way,” he said, almost a little shy.

Dougie. That was a nice name. Oh, wow, she finally knew his name! Ashley couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m Ashley,”

He smiled back at her. “It’s nice to meet you properly,” he said happily.

Ashley just laughed, nodding as she blushed lightly. To have him acknowledge their smiling-from-a-distance definitely sparked something inside of her. Nice to finally meet him indeed.

They sat in comfortable silence, Ashley typing up her tangent notes so far for the morning, and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that sat in her chest. The cute guy she’d been smiling at for a year was sitting at her table with her…and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. And he’d introduced himself!

No, cool it, keep calm Ashley. No-one got anywhere by acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Play it cool.

That promised hour flew by far too quickly. Every now and again she would glance up and find his eyes on her. Every now and again she would glance up only for him to look up and catching her looking. Every time she would blush. Every time he would send her a wonderful smile. But all too soon her table companion was standing up and putting his book in his bag.

“Um…”

Ashley looked up from her work at him, a smile naturally spreading across her face at his nervous expression. Why was he nervous?

“Yes, Dougie?” she said softly, smiling at a little more at finally getting to say his name.

Dougie. Dougie. Dougie.

“I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost hopefully.

“I’ll be here,” she nodded.

Oh god. Well that was stupid. Of course she’d be here. Why couldn’t she just act smoothly for once in her life?

But then Dougie smiled, such a happy little smile that it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Until next time then,” Dougie murmured, “Bye, Ashley,”

“Bye,” she breathed, watching him walk way.

Well, that could’ve been worse. What a Sunday.

*

Things felt different after that fateful Sunday. Dougie (she knew his name!) hadn’t sat down with her again, or even sat in the shop again yet, but now…now he always made a point of waving at her, waiting until she had waved back to smile. Those waves sent her into even more of a tizzy, a light blush always on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but cherish them. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but he was so handsome and he noticed her. It didn’t hurt to pretend it was more than friendly acknowledgement, right? A girl could dream at least.

It was only Wednesday today, but that meant only one thing. Her weekly phone call with her mom. Knowing Susan Miller, Ashley could picture exactly what her mom was doing. Her phone would be propped up on speakerphone while she pottered around the kitchen, finishing off making dinner while also planning what desserts to bake at the weekend. Her mom led a simple life, a retired teacher herself (although she’d taught at the local elementary school rather than ever leaving town), but it was a happy life. And it was these phone calls that were the only thing that made Ashley miss home.

Nothing was the same as a hug from her mom with a slice of homemade apple pie. But those were the sacrifices she made for her love of Medieval History. They never stayed on the for more than half an hour, but it was just enough to fill Ashley’s heart, at least for a little while.

“And I swear, if he doesn’t stop leaving those nasty cigar butts on the front porch, I’m going to whoop some sense into him!”

“You’ve been saying this for over 20 years mom – I don’t think dad is going to change at this point,” Ashley mused, rolling her eyes fondly.

Her dad had been set in his ways for as long as she could remember. Nothing was going to change that, not even a little nagging from the love of his life.

“Yes, well, he could at least clean up after himself,”

Her parents really were ridiculous human beings – but they loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Even if her dad didn’t clean up his cigar butts.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t complaining about his cigar butts,” Ashley grinned. “Maybe threaten not to make that corned beef hash he likes. That might help,”

The laughter that flowed down the phone made her smile even more. Fuck she missed hearing her mom’s laugh in person.

“Oh I miss you sweetpea. Are you sure you’re okay down there by yourself?”

“Yes mom, you know I love my work and my life down here,” Ashley said, sighing softly.

Here we go again.

“I just worry about you rattling around in that old house by yourself!”

Rude. It wasn’t that old.

“I promise I’m fine!” Ashley insisted.

Her mom stayed silent, making Ashley bite her lip to stop herself getting frustrated. Her mom would come out with it eventually…

“I worry about you being lonely, that’s all. You’re such an introvert, you always have been,”

And there it was.

“How could I be lonely mom? I have great colleagues that I talk with. And I’m around students all day and I interact all the time with them! And the baristas at my coffee shop know me by name and we chat too,” Ashley listed.

“The baristas don’t count, Ash,”

Poor Andrei. He definitely counted. Ashley couldn’t help but giggle at the sigh in her mom’s voice though. “Okay maybe not, but there is a guy that I’ve talked to,”

“Ooh a guy?”

Oh no. Oh what had she done? She had to nip this in the bud now.

“No, mom, not like that, just a friendly face to wave at,” Ashley insisted.

Dougie’s shy smiles filled her mind, but she shook her head. Now was not the time.

“Oh boo, you should work on changing that,”

Hah. If only.

“You’re impossible, mom,” Ashley sighed fondly.

“I love you too darling,”

*

Today he was going to do it. Today Dougie was going to get to Storm Surge coffee shop a little early, get his americano to drink in…and hopefully sit with Ashley again. Ever since that amazing Sunday morning where she offered him a seat at her table (she offered him!), he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He could kick himself for not being able to do more than wave at her the past three Sundays, but even just the few smiles he seen in passing since have blown him away. Especially with that cute little blush she always had when she waved back at him.

But today he was coming in an hour before he had to get to work, just to have that chance to sit with her and talk with her. Was it a little desperate? Sure. But Dougie never claimed to be anything other than desperate to get to know the beautiful woman he’d only ever seen in passing until now. His schedule didn’t usually allow him the chance – every Sunday the North Carolina Museum of Art opened from 10-5, and he usually got there just after 9 with coffee for him and Jordie, but every fourth Sunday Jordie came in a little later, so Dougie took the time to sit in and read a little before heading into work…and it was the fourth Sunday today. He could only hope that all the nerves and butterflies would be worth it.

Oh fuck, what if she wasn’t even there?

No, she would be. She always was. Enough stalling.

Still…

Dougie walked into Storm Surge with a little ball of nervous anxiety in his chest, praying that Ashley wouldn’t stray from her routine, until he looked over into the back corner…and there she was. He waited until Ashley looked up at him to wave at her, earning a sweet smile and a wave back. Wow, her blush really was so sweet.

“Dougie! You must be drinking in today, yes?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Andrei’s voice, quickly nodding. “Yeah just the usual americano, thanks,”

“You got it,” Andrei nodded, beaming at him.

Dougie quickly paid and moved to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. The shop was only half-full at this time in the morning, unlike last month, so he didn’t have the excuse of busy tables. Maybe…he could just walk up to her, right? He could take that chance, right? Yeah, he could do this.

“Here you go!” Andrei said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” Dougie murmured.

The barista gave him a strange look at his distracted tone, and Dougie knew that Andrei was watching as he walked over to Ashley’s table…but here goes nothing. He could totally do this. He was an adult. He paid his taxes on time and everything. He could definitely ask a pretty woman if he could sit with her again.

“Hey, Ashley,”

She looked up from her laptop with a bright smile, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Dougie! Hi!” she said happily.

She remembered his name! Wow. No, focus.

“Do you, um…do you mind if I sit with you again?” Dougie asked.

Oh god, why couldn’t he just sound cool for once in his life? Why did he always have to be the least smooth version of himself that he could possibly be?

Ashley took one look around at all the empty tables and blushed even more, before she bit her lip and nodded. “Sure, go for it,”

That was a good sign, right?

Dougie sat down with a nervous smile, putting his coffee gently on the table.

“So, um, how have you been?”

Ashley looked surprised (oh god, was she only being polite before?) before that melted into a pleased look. Okay, he could work with that.

“I’ve been pretty good thanks, yeah. I’m just revising the list of essay topics that I’m giving my students on Monday, so not too much work to do today thankfully,” she said, “How about you?”

“I’ve been alright yeah. Work has been a little nuts with the new exhibition at the museum but it’s all come together really well!” Dougie said, beaming. What? Could a man not be excited about artwork? “what do you teach?”

Ashley smiled shyly, looking a little hesitant again. Dougie couldn’t help but frown a little. Had people made her feel awkward about her work before? That wasn’t okay! “I’m a Medieval History professor at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My general focus is on the power of Medieval queens, but I teach everything from the expansion of medieval Europe to love in the middle ages, as well as on the general medieval and early modern history modules. I did my undergraduate and masters degrees at NYU, but I moved down here for the PhD opportunity. It’s now my second full year teaching and I just…I love it so much,”

A PhD?! Holy shit, that’s impressive. Wow. Just…wow. How could she be any more perfect?

“That’s incredible!” was all that Dougie could say.

“You don’t have to pretend, I know having a PhD isn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, especially in medieval history,” Ashley mused.

Well it was definitely pretty fucking cool to him, no matter what other people had ever said to her. “I’m definitely not pretending, I promise. Medieval history is fascinating,” he insisted.

Ashley pursed her lips like she didn’t believe him, making Dougie laugh.

“I’m serious! I may not have a PhD but my masters thesis was a specialism in Rembrandt’s work. I’m a total art history nerd – 14th-17th century in particular,” Dougie explained.

Come on, let the nerdiness pay off for once…

Her face immediately lightened, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘o’, making him laugh again. At least, he hoped it was a good surprise?

“One of the classes I’ll be teaching next semester is Italian Renaissance and European History to 1650,” she murmured.

Holy shit. What a match up.

“Told you I wasn’t pretending to be interested,” Dougie grinned, “I’d definitely love to learn more about that class when you start it,”

Ashley blushed again, but her nervous smile had shifted into a full beaming smile, and his heart could only just about take it. Then she froze slightly, blinking, as if she’d forgotten something. What?

“Sorry, did you say museum earlier?” Ashley said suddenly, “like, you work at a museum?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” Dougie nodded.

He did his best not to puff out his chest in pride. He’d worked damned hard on his career and he was proud of it.

“I just…wow, I wouldn’t have expected it,”

Dougie laughed, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish smile.

“A guy who looks like you, like such an athlete’s build…oh god, sorry, that’s so rude of me,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

But Dougie just laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, it’s far from the first time I’ve heard that,”

And never with such appreciation of his body either…

Look, he knew how the world perceived him on first glance. Tall, muscled guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, probably an all-american jock right? How he loved proving them wrong.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ashley winced, “so I’m sorry,”

“Apology accepted,” Dougie mused, “I love my work, so it’s fun surprising people. Especially people with similar interests,”

Ashley bit her lip again but nodded and smiled, tilting her head to show she was listening. Wow, he could definitely get used to her looking at him with this much interest.

“Like I said, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art. I’m actually Canadian, but I finished my masters degree in Boston and went straight into working at the MFA, but after working on a brief project in Calgary, I realised I wanted to work more in my specialist interests, y’know? So I applied for a role at the Museum of Art here, and became the associate curator of European Art. It’s…it’s everything I could’ve wished for, when I was studying,”

Dougie took a sip of his coffee while Ashley processed that flood of information, hoping he hadn’t come across too strong. People really did tend to zone out when he talked about his work…but hopefully because she also had an interest in European history and art, she wouldn’t be put off?

“I can definitely relate to following and achieving my passions for a niche subject,” Ashley grinned, “and I love that you love it so much. It’s rare, to find someone who gets such genuine joy out of their work. Even though work can sometimes be super stressful,”

“Stressful, but worth it. Especially when a new exhibition comes together so well,” Dougie agreed.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dougie licked his bottom lip, trying not to look too nervous. This exhibition is such a big deal, and it had been such a lot of work. He could get a little excited about it now, right?

“Yeah, I’ve been working solidly for the past few months on the new exhibition – it’s opening next weekend. It’s a collection of Italian Renaissance Art,” Dougie said, a little hesitant.

Hesitant…because maybe that was a bit flashy? Did it sound like he was bragging? He really hoped not – not just because he was so proud of his work but he genuinely did want to excite Ashley…

“Oh no way! Really?” Ashley gasped.

Dougie bit his lips to control his grin. Oh thank fuck. Finally, someone he could actually impress with his love of art history. “Yeah, last quarter the museum acquired over 30 paintings from the 14th century from various collectors and this will be the first time they’ve all been together in the same room,”

“I bet they’ll be so beautiful all together after so long,” Ashley said, her voice a little wistful.

Wistful? He could fix that. Maybe. Yes, this was the perfect opportunity…

“Maybe we could…I know this might feel a little soon, but I’m…

Dougie trailed off with a frustrated groan, making Ashley giggle. For once, just once, let him be smooth! He took a deep breath, before trying again.

“Would you like to come to the exhibition opening with me?” he asked softly.

Ashley’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly nodded, making Dougie’s heartbeat kick up a notch. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a plus one as the associate curator, and there’s no-one else I could imagine going with. I think you’d love it,” Dougie explained, “and I’d love to show you the artwork,”

Was that too desperate?

“I’d…wow, I’d love to go with you,” Ashley said, her expression shy but pleased.

Shy but pleased. He could work with that.

“Great, it’s a date!”

Oh God. Dougie could only freeze…but then Ashley smiled. Huh, maybe not so cringey?

“A date huh? I’d love that too,” Ashley said shyly.

Oh thank fuck. Ashley just giggled at Dougie’s blush.

“Give me your number and I’ll text you the details?” Dougie suggested, trying to salvage at least a little bit of his dignity.

As Ashley took his phone from him and entered her phone number, Dougie could only sit in shocked silence. He’d done it. He’d actually asked her on a date. On a date where he could impress her with a topic they both loved so much. All he had to do now was not fuck it up.

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

*

Ashley had been in a little bit of a daze when Dougie had left for work. He’d asked her on a date. On a date! And they’d exchanged numbers, Dougie having sent her a little smiley face so she had his number in return. She was just thankful that there wasn’t much work for her to do that day – there was no way she wouldn’t been able to focus otherwise.

And then throughout the week, they’d started exchanging cute little messages. Just sweet little things, like how was your day? and look how cute this dog is and I had the loudest school tour group come through the museum today and which of these texts is going to give me the worst teacher rating? – it was all silly and sweet and fun, and Ashley couldn’t remember the last time that the potential of a relationship had excited her so much.

There was just something about Dougie that made her heart beat a little faster every time she thought of him. It was bad enough when he would smile at her in passing in Storm Surge…but now, with every little text, she felt herself smiling even more than she could’ve imagined, like a giddy little schoolgirl with a first crush.

Because at the moment, it really was just a crush. They hadn’t gone out on their first date yet – in reality, they’d only sat together twice, with one of those times essentially being the exchange of their names. They’d only had one conversation in person. And the texts were so sweet and lovely…but they were just texts. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself and get her hopes up, you know? God knows that had happened enough times.

She couldn’t help but hope that finally, she had met someone with real potential. Dougie made it easy to hope.

Ashley supposed that their first date would be the real test of whether she’d just built up all the excitement of Tall Cute Guy in that coffee shop fantasy in her head, or whether he was the real deal. Their conversation in person on Sunday had been such a good start, but fuck please make him the real deal.

Was it really that much to ask?

Finally Friday rolled around and she was finished with work for the week. Well, mostly. Ashley had just come out of a bi-monthly faculty meeting and just had to check some emails before she could go home for the weekend (and to shave her legs because she found the cutest dress for her date on Saturday) – but as she got to her office, she noticed that Rod had stopped in the doorway, waving to some of their colleagues as they strolled past. Hmm.

“So…you’re looking incredibly chipper for someone who just got out of a tedious faculty meeting,” Rod teased, leaning against her doorframe.

Ashley just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat at her desk. “I don’t know why you complain so much – you’re the one who runs them,”

“Not through choice, I promise that,” Rod mused, shaking his head, “But you are looking extra cheerful today. Just feeling a little nosy, I guess,”

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Should she tell him about her date? It’s not like Rod was a gossip…and it’s not like she had a whole host of friends to tell…

“I may or may not have a date tomorrow night,” Ashley eventually admitted.

His eyes immediately lit up. Oh God.

“Ooh a date, exciting!” Rod gasped dramatically, fanning himself like a southern belle.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Ashley giggled. That could’ve gone worse – but his excitement definitely lit up the butterflies in her stomach all over again.

Rod just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just glad you’re giving someone a chance to sweep you off your feet,” he teased, “Who is he and where is he taking you?”

“He’s a guy I met in that coffee shop I go to on a Sunday, and he’s taking me to the new Italian Renaissance exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” she explained.

And she couldn’t wait.

“A cultured guy or a try hard?” he smirked.

“A cultured guy,” Ashley giggled, rolling her eyes, “he’s actually the associate curator who worked on setting up the exhibition,”

“Don’t we all love a man who knows his history, even if it is art,” Rod grinned, winking dramatically, earning another giggle, “Let me know how the exhibition is - I know my wife would love to go if it’s any good,”

“I’ll give you a full review on Monday,” Ashley agreed, nodding.

“And a full review of your date,” Rod grinned.

“Okay, out, out. I need to finish these emails before I leave,” Ashley laughed.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Rod mused, “If you need anything, even an escape clause tomorrow night, send me a text, okay?”

Her heart softened a little at his kind gesture, and she found herself nodding. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you, I appreciate it,”

“Any time,” Rod nodded.

Ashley bit her bottom lip to hide her grin as he shut the door behind him on the way out, and the butterflies in her stomach were still there. Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*

Tonight was the night. Ashley only had a few minutes left before her uber arrived to pick her up to take her to the museum, and she couldn’t resist having a final glance in the mirror by her front door. She’d had a little panic over what the hell the dress code would be for a gallery opening, but after Dougie confirmed it wasn’t black tie, just formal dress, Ashley had consulted with some of her college friends (who were buzzing about the fact that she was actually going on a date), and decided that a midi cocktail dress was the way to go.

And she’d found the perfect one.

The dress she’d picked out in a local boutique was a beautiful forest green colour, complimenting her dark hair and hazel eyes perfectly. It fell to the middle of her shins, as her friends had recommended, and had thick shoulders straps, no sleeves but a neckline with a deep enough v that it should a little cleavage (classy cleavage of course, very sophisticated in her opinion). Her favourite part though was the Marilyn Monroe-esque twirl to the skirt – something she’d tested out several times already – and she just felt glamorous in it. She’d straightened her usually-messy hair and put on a little make-up too, to match the effort she was making with the dress. To be honest, Ashley felt beautiful, and she honestly couldn’t wait to see Dougie’s reaction. It was a hell of a lot different to her usual Sunday Storm Surge outfits, that’s for sure.

Soon enough, her uber was pulling up outside of the Museum of Art, and she thanked the driver as she got out. Thankfully, Dougie was already waiting at the top of the steps for her, and the smile that he sent her way made her breath catch in her throat. Ashley took the time to check him out as she walked up towards him, and she felt those butterflies start up again. He was wearing a gorgeous navy blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, bringing out the colour of his eyes beautifully, and the stunned expression on his face as he looked at her made her blush a little. That was a good reaction, right?

“Wow. You look…amazing,” Dougie murmured, looking her up and down with awe.

Definitely a good reaction.

“You look really good too,” she grinned.

Dougie grinned back at her, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

Ashley fought not to squeal as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. What a smooth move. “Lead the way,”

Dougie walked her inside, picking up a glass of champagne each after they dropped their jackets off. Then they were off. The two of them wandered around through the exhibition, Dougie guiding her and giving her the most indepth information she could’ve possibly hoped for. She’d never had such a personal tour like this, and he was so shy yet so knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but to drink up every word. This was what she had hoped for out of tonight, that passion coming through Dougie, and she was receiving it tenfold.

“This one is one of my favourites. Batoni’s The Triumph of Venice. There’s just so much going on, and I swear I notice something different every time I look at it,”

Ashley looked at the painting, taking in the many figures, the details, the colours, and couldn’t help but smile. It truly was a masterpiece.

“Oil on canvas? Maybe…early 1700s?” she guessed.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Dougie breathed.

He immediately flushed bright red, making Ashley giggle. Good to know that her vague art history knowledge was paying off. And that she could make him react like that…

“I love all the finessed detail in this one. Especially on the carriage – it’s exquisite,” Ashley murmured, looking back at it.

“Isn’t it?” Dougie grinned.

Ashley squeezed his arm gently, smiling up at him, earning a happy smile back. He was so clearly in his element, and she was loving every second. The way his entire face lit up when he talked about art…there was something just so beautiful in that. Those beautiful blue eyes were even more alive than ever, that spark of passion adding such a gorgeous element, and she really wanted to see more of it. That was a good sign, right? That she was already imagining more.

They moved on to the next painting, and Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow.

“And this…this is the star of the collection. Giotto’s Peruzzi Altarpiece, the only complete altarpiece by the artist outside of Italy,”

Her jaw dropped a little. That was a big deal. “The only one?”

“The only one,” Dougie nodded.

“Holy shit,” Ashley mumbled, eyes wide.

Dougie grinned at her. “My sentiments exactly,”

“All of that gold. So much gold. And the details in their faces. Holy shit,” Ashley murmured.

“One of my favourite frescos, and I get to see it every day,” Dougie sighed happily.

“Well count me as jealous,” Ashley teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

Dougie just smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was just so cute.

“Would you, um…would you like a new drink?”

“Sure, another couldn’t hurt,” she nodded.

It’s not like she drank champagne that often after all. And it was a special occasion…

They stayed in the museum for another hour, looking over some of the art again as well as mingling with Dougie’s colleagues (including a mostly silent guy Dougie introduced as ‘Foegs’, who gave Dougie a double thumbs up when he thought she wasn’t looking, and a very enthusiastic big blonde man named Jordie, who she learned was Dougie’s boss – which, wow). Their conversation just flowed, and the doubts that she’d had earlier were easily shoved to the back of her mind.

She’d never thought it would feel so natural spending the evening arm-in-arm with a guy, but Dougie had just blown her away.

All too soon, it was time to leave the museum though, and while Dougie got their jackets, Ashley opened her phone to request an uber. 5 minutes away. Perfect.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Dougie murmured, when they were waiting outside.

His own uber was only a couple of minutes behind hers.

“Me too,” Ashley admitted, smiling up at him, “Thank you for inviting me,”

“There’s no-one else I would’ve wanted to take. I just glad you enjoyed it,” Dougie smiled back.

“I enjoyed spending time with you. The exhibition was just a bonus,” she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Holy shit she just flirted. Blatantly flirted. Too much?

But then Dougie blushed a little, before a small smirk spread across his lips. “Yeah?”

Ashley just bit her lip, nodding. Dougie’s blue eyes flashed a little darker, sending a hot jolt running through her body. Oh wow. Just like that huh. But then her phone buzzed, the uber car pulling up to the curb, breaking her out of her thoughts just before they started to spiral.

Calm down Ashley, it’s only the first date!

She waved at the uber driver to signal that she’d seen him before turning back to Dougie. “See you tomorrow?” Ashley asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be starting work a little later on the one off, as it was the exhibition opening tonight,” Dougie nodded, “I’ll be there,”

Ashley grinned at him, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, laughing softly as his jaw dropped.

“Bye, Dougie,” she said softly, walking over to the car.

“Bye,” she heard him murmur, just as she closed the door.

“Hot date?” the uber driver teased.

“The hottest,” she grinned back.

That earned her a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the driver pulled away from the curb. Ashley glanced out of the window, only to see that Dougie hadn’t moved at all – other than his fingers brushing over where she’d kissed his cheek, a hopeless smile on his face.

What a first date indeed.

*

To: Ashley

From: Rod

So how did the date go?

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

The exhibition was incredible. You need to take your wife, for real.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

I actually meant the guy but sure…

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

He was a perfect gentleman and…amazing.

You’ll get your full gossip on Monday.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

Boo fine.

I’m glad you had a good time though!

See you on Monday

*

 “I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

Wasn’t the saying that if things seemed too good to be true, then they probably were not?

Ashley had gone to bed feeling over the moon, elated, bubbling with excitement. But when she’d woken up, it was like a dark cloud had settled over her, a heavy rock of anxiety sitting on her chest. Everything had gone so well last night. So well. Too well? This wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten her hopes up only to have things fall apart around her – and her hopes had skyrocketed last night. All she felt was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it made her feel sick.

That niggling negativity had swum around her brain over and over again, and she hadn’t been able to shut it off – not when she showered, not when she got dressed, and not when she sat on the sofa debating whether or not to actually turn up at the coffee shop.

Was this really what things had come down to? Tempted to break her solid routine, the exact routine she’d had every week, just because a guy made her nervous? Was he really that important? Was she really that much of a coward?

She sat on the sofa so long that she passed the time she would normally leave. Hell, she passed the time she would normally be sitting down at her usual table. Oh god she couldn’t take this. It was too much. Her legs bounced nervously as she pulled up the message thread she had with him, typing out a message to cancel…

…and then she deleted it.

Fuck that shit. No matter how anxious this whole dating thing made her feel, nothing was worth this. She couldn’t just not show up, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. Fuck this. As quickly as she could, Ashley grabbed her laptop and her handbag, driving as fast as she could to Storm Surge.

When she parked her car, she noticed that she had a few texts from Dougie. Oh god.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m coming a little earlier than usual today!

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you running late?

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you coming?

~

Oh god. Ashley winced, practically running to the shop, immediately spotting Dougie at her usual table in the back. The sheer relief on his face made her wince again. Fuck. His expression dimmed at little, but she quickly ordered her usual latte from Andrei, who looked an interesting mix of confused and concerned, but she headed over to Dougie without hesitating.

“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” she murmured, setting her coffee and her laptop down on the table.

Dougie frowned at her briefly, clearly taking in whatever the hell her face was showing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Might as well tell him the truth, right?

“I, uh, I was second-guessing everything?”

“Second-guessing?” Dougie asked, frowning harder.

Ashley just sighed. “Yeah, um, it’s dumb. I just…it all seems too good to be true? I woke up feeling like I’d gotten my hopes up and…fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel stupid now,”

Looking up at Dougie’s sad face immediately made her regret telling the truth, but it was too late now. Fuck. Why did she have to ruin everything? The fact that he was staying silent just made everything worse. Should she just go?

“What do you want to do now then?” Dougie eventually asked “or do you not know?”

Ashley swallowed heavily, looking down at her hands briefly. Hah. The million dollar question. “I know that I like you?” she offered.

Dougie huffed a laugh. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to get mad if you don’t want to go on another date,” Dougie said with a sad smile.

Oh god that was worse. He should never sound that disheartened – it wasn’t right. And it was all her fault.

“Would you even want to go on a date with me again when I’m this much of an anxious mess?” Ashley sighed.

After last night, this really wasn’t where she’d seen her day going. Self-sabotage was a bitch. But it was her own damn fault. It always was. But then Dougie reached his hand forward, fingers brushing over hers lightly to get her attention, making her blush as he smiled a bit more genuinely.

“Yeah, I would like to,” he nodded, “I had a really great time yesterday night, and I still want more,”

Oh, so maybe she hadn’t ruined everything then. What? Well shit, she was grabbing this second chance with both hands.

“I had a great time too,” Ashley admitted, blushing a little bit more, “even with this stupid anxiety,”

“Good. That’s…that’s really good,” Dougie laughed, “well, not the anxiety part, but I’m going to prove to you that this isn’t just getting your hopes up,”

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

Dougie smiled at her, a truly genuine happiness, making her breath catch in her throat. Fuck she didn’t deserve this. But there was no way she was going to let herself ruin this, not now.

“Maybe we could just talk for a couple of hours before I have to go into work? Have some coffee, a couple of those delicious blueberry-lemon scones, and just see where things go?” Dougie suggested.

Ashley nodded, the tight ball in her chest immediately loosening. God, he was such a nice guy. “I’d definitely like to get to know you more,” she agreed.

“Scones are on me then,” Dougie grinned.

Hope. A second chance. Bring it on.

*

When Dougie eventually walked into work, his shared office had more people in it that he cared for. Well, okay, that was a little mean. But right now was not the best time for the combination of Jordie and Foegs as well as Sebastian and Teuvo, especially not when all four of them had met Ashley last night. Not when they were all so intense. Not while things were still so tentative.

“So, how did it go?” Jordie asked excitedly, “it looked like the two of you were having fun!”

And here we go.

“Well last night, at the exhibition, went really well, but…”

Jordie and Foegs frowned as he trailed off, Sebastian and Teuvo just looked confused. Dougie sighed and sat down heavily at his desk.

“She was really hesitant this morning. Like, so full of anxiety that she almost didn’t show up for coffee,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What do you mean?” Jordie asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“She thinks it’s too good to be true?” Dougie winced.

Foegs looked a little stunned, Jordie’s jaw dropping. But then Sebastian jumped to his feet from where he was sitting on Jordie’s desk.

“Well then you’ll just have to sweep her off her feet!” Sebastian said firmly.

Really? Dougie sent him an unimpressed look, but Sebastian’s pout stayed serious as Teuvo giggled.

“As much as I hate to say it, Sepe has a point,” Foegs shrugged, making Sebastian stick out his tongue at him, “the two of you looked like you’d really hit it off when we were all talking, and the fact that Ashley did meet you this morning means a little anxiety shouldn’t stand in the way,”

“Take her on another date. Wine and dine, man. It’s a classic for a reason,” Jordie added, nodding seriously.

Well shit, if Jordie was being serious then maybe it would work.

“Thanks guys,” Dougie murmured, smiling softly.

“Anything to land you the woman of your many dreams,” Jordie beamed.

Dougie just blushed. Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows, Teuvo just punching him on the arm. It was almost a nice moment.

He waited until Foegs, Sebastian and Teuvo had left to start working before he pulled his phone out, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to say.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m glad I saw you today.

I hope you’re still doing okay.

How do you feel about getting dinner with me?

~

Dougie jiggled his leg nervously as he logged into his computer, waiting with baited breath for any reply.

And then eventually, his phone buzzed. Ashley. Thank god.

~

To: Dougie

From: Ashley

I’m alright thanks. That scone definitely helped ;)

I would love to get dinner with you.

~

Dougie couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Good. This was good. They exchanged a few more messages, eventually figuring out that because of his next few late nights with the exhibition and her essays she had to mark, neither of them were really free until next Saturday. A whole week away again. Fuck. No, this was going to work. Dougie knew it was worth it – and if she needed him to text a lot over the next few days to remind her that he was all in, that he wasn’t just going to disappoint her like those other guys, then he absolutely would.

Wine and dine next Saturday. He could absolutely do this.

“Hey, what was the name of that place you took your wife out for date night a couple of weeks back?” Dougie asked, looking up at his boss.

Jordie’s face lit up. “Oh man, it was so good…”

*

As Dougie promised himself, they kept texting throughout the week. He told her fun stories from visitors to the exhibition. She told him silly comments her students made that she couldn’t respond to without laughing in class. He told her all about his time in Boston. She told him all about her time in New York. He sent her a picture of the cutest trio of dogs his neighbours adopted. She sent him a picture of a sunset that took her breath away. Things were…good. He was just glad that Ashley seemed as enthusiastic as she was before their first date.

All he could hope was that he was proving to her that he was different. That he was serious about giving their budding relationship a shot. He hadn’t bonded with someone as quickly as this, as deeply as this, ever – so he wanted to see where it went. The unknown with Ashley genuinely excited him, and he wanted her to feel the same excitement.

He could only try to be good enough to deserve her.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Dougie was a nervous wreck. He’d left work exactly on time for once, Jordie giving him a thump on the shoulder and Foegs a thumbs up (he mostly ignored Sebastian and Teuvo’s shimmies), racing home to change into a nice sweater and his favourite pair of smart jeans. Casual but like he cared about making an impression. That was what he was aiming for.

And then Ashley arrived 10 minutes early, just after he’d arrived himself, looking nervous but happy in the prettiest baby blue tea-dress he’d ever seen, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty pink lipstick. Wow.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted.

Oh god. Mr Smooth, again.

Ashley just blushed, smiling up at him. “Thank you. I love your sweater,”

Dougie blushed in return. What a pair they made.

“After you,” he said, opening the restaurant door for her.

As much as her anxiety had worried him, he was so glad he didn’t give up – she was absolutely worth it. They were lead to their table, Dougie being a bit extra and pulling out Ashley’s chair for her, but the giggle he got in return was what he was aiming for. Wine and dine. Sweep her off her feet. That’s all that he wanted to do, and if it was working then he wasn’t going to stop now.

“I was thinking we could split a bottle of wine tonight, if you want?” Dougie offered.

“Yeah that sounds good to me,” Ashley nodded, “Maybe a white wine?”

That was more than okay with him. Red wine made him a little…over the top? He definitely talked too much when he had red wine, he knew that much, and he wanted to save at least a little dignity tonight. Hopefully, at least.

The wine was ordered, and by the time they each had a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, Ashley looked as relaxed as Dougie felt. He could only hope the rest of this night turned out the same way.

“So did I tell you what one of Rod’s students said to him yesterday?”

Dougie grinned, shaking his head. “No you didn’t!”

Ashley grinned back. “Well…”

They talked for hours, sharing stories about their jobs, their interests, their families, not stopping when any of their three courses came, not hesitating even once. Nothing was awkward in the slightest – their conversation just flowed like they’d known each other for years, and Dougie’s heart was just so happy. This was everything he’d wanted for so long, someone he could truly been 100% himself with, and he couldn’t believe that she seemed as into him as he was into her.

How was this possible, after only two dates?

Time flew by so fast, too fast, and they did eventually have to leave their table, even as much as Dougie didn’t want the night to end. He just felt utterly consumed by her, completely and utterly lost in her very being, and he didn’t want this feeling to stop for anything.

It probably didn’t help that they’d split three bottles of wine though.

It wasn’t enough to make either of them sloppy drunk, not with the delicious food they’d eaten, but Ashley was definitely a bit more giggly than usual, and he was definitely smiling like an idiot.

“I wish your uber wasn’t on its way,” Dougie sighed, when they were outside.

“I’m actually not a far walk from here, so I was just going to walk home?”

At this time of night? Absolutely not! Ashley saw the look of indignation of his face and burst into laughter, making him blush (again). What? He wasn’t wrong for being worried about her getting home safely.

“You could always walk me home?” she suggested.

Oh. Oh. Oh yeah okay, he could do that.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dougie nodded quickly.

Dougie’s heart started beating a little faster as she looped her arm through his, and it was all he could do not to smile at her too helplessly. How did she manage to affect him like this? He’d never fallen so head over heels so quickly. And she seemed completely oblivious to how gone he was for her – in the most innocent of ways.

They walked slowly, leaning on each perhaps a little more than they would without the wine, but it just meant that they had more time for talking. Dougie was blissfully happy to let Ashley rant about the indignity of the black myth surrounding Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking in everything that she was trying to teach him. He loved how much she loved her medieval history, just like he loved his art. It was quirky and different and so unique to her. And honestly, he could picture them doing this together for years, discussing their passions and their love for their careers and…

“Okay this is me,” Ashley announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Dougie looked up at the old two-storey home with a smile. So this was her home. Pretty.

“That wasn’t so bad a walk,” Dougie grinned.

“I feel bad now though, making you get further away for your own journey,” Ashley frowned.

But Dougie shook his head. “It’s fine really. I’m sure there are plenty of ubers still running around here,”

“Well…”

Ashley trailed off, biting her lip, making Dougie smile. What was on her mind?

“You can stay, if you want?” Ashley said, a shy smile on her face.

Oh fuck. Stay? Ashley saw the shock on his face, before she blushed furiously, quickly shaking her head.

“I have a spare bedroom! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Dougie couldn’t help but laugh, tugging her hands away gently. Not that he was opposed to…sharing a bed with her, but that wasn’t the vibe of tonight. Tonight was for building them up, getting them to a more comfortable level. And fuck did it feel good tonight.

Waking up to see her first thing in the morning would only be icing on the cake.

“I would love to stay, as long as you don’t mind,” he said softly, brushing his hand against hers.

Ashley inhaled sharply but nodded, wordlessly reaching in her handbag for her keys. They stayed silent as they walked into the house, Dougie barely moving a foot away from her as she showed him the kitchen, the bathroom and then the spare bedroom. He could do a proper tour in the morning, he knew that. He was just a little stunned that he was even still with her, to be honest.

“So here’s some basketball shorts that my cousin left last time he visited. I don’t have a shirt big enough for you though,” she apologised, handing him a soft bundle.

Dougie just shook his head, smiling. “This is more than enough. I usually sleep shirtless anyway,”

Ashley’s lips parted a little in surprise, her eyes glazing over slightly, making Dougie grin as she shook her head as if to clear it. Good to know he had that effect on her.

“There are spare toothbrushes under the sink from when I last when to the dentist’s office, so help yourself to whatever one?” she offered.

Dougie just nodded, squeezing her hand as he walked into the bathroom. He willed himself to retain at least a little bit of chill as he got changed, quickly washing his face and cleaning his teeth with one of the toothbrushes she’d offered. This was all still a little bit surreal, being honest. But he was going to seize this with both hands – this was a chance he was never going to get again if he fucked up.

Ashley couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him as they swapped places in the bathroom, and Dougie tried not to grin as he flexed his abs a little, making her blush. He could have a little fun, right? Especially since he knew the boundaries he needed to stay behind, he wasn’t dumb.

By the time he’d put his phone on charge and folded his clothes onto a chair for tomorrow, and then headed back out into the corridor, Ashley was back, dressed in a cute little pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt. Oh wow, he could definitely imagine her wearing his t-shirt to bed one day. No, not the time!

“Hey,”

Ashley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“See you in the morning?” she said hopefully.

Like fuck he was going to leave. “Bright and early,” he nodded.

But when she didn’t go anywhere, her hand moving to rest on his bare arm, Dougie couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards her. Fuck. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away, and that was all he needed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked lowly.

Ashley’s lips parted in a soft gasp, but she nodded. “Yeah, please,”

Dougie raised a hand to cup her face, giving her one last out, but as she raised up on her tiptoes he didn’t hesitate any further. He leant his head down, and pressed his lips to hers softly, barely able to stop the moan that wanted to tear from his throat. Holy shit. Ashley clutched at his biceps, leaning up into the kiss even more, making Dougie’s head spin as he kissed her softly, slowly, over and over again. This was so not what he expected from tonight, or even hoped for, but fuck did it fill his body with butterflies. Holy shit, kissing her was everything. Eventually, he brushed his tongue against hers gently, before pulling away, knowing there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Wow,” she nodded, laughing softly, “That’s one hell of a goodnight,”

Dougie laughed softly too, pecking her lips in a soft kiss one last time before stepping away. She leaned against the wall, looking a little stunned, making him grin as he walked into her spare bedroom. If he didn’t walk away, he knew he would do something stupid to break them out of this perfect little sweet bubble, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not tonight.

Tonight had been perfect. 

*

Ashley woke up slowly, a little groggy, feeling like she was forgetting something. Then she heard the bathroom door opening, and everything came flooding back to her. Dougie was here. He’d stayed over after their date last night. They’d kissed. Holy shit. Holy shit. She took a deep breath to calm herself, fingers rising to her lips without a second thought, and it was all she could do to smile.

Dougie had kissed her. And it was everything.

She squealed softly into her pillow, feeling stupidly giddy, before quickly picking out a cute jumper and her comfiest skinny jeans to wear. She could hear him moving in the spare bedroom, so she quickly darted into the bathroom, washing and then brushing her teeth, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the toothbrush that Dougie used resting in the holder. There was just something about it that felt right.

She took a deep breath, running her hands down her sweater to smooth it, before she headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. It didn’t take long for Dougie to join her, and he accepted the glass of juice that she passed him with a smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” she said softly back.

Dougie seemed to hesitate slightly, before his face became determined. She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before he leant down and pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Ashley whimpered softly into his mouth, earning a soft noise back, and it was all she could do to clutch at his sweater. Holy shit. This was just as incredible and sweet as she remembered from last night. Wow. Dougie cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he slowed the kiss down to a few gentle pecks, before he pulled away with a smile. Ashley just smiled back up at him, a little overwhelmed in the best way. Wow.

“Coffee shop?” he said.

“Yeah, if that’s alright,” she nodded.

He understood her routines. And he didn’t care that she wanted to stick to them. How could she not appreciate that?

Dougie just nodded in response, smiling as he sat down at her kitchen table, taking a sip of the juice she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind changing out of last night’s clothes though. Not really my vibe,” he teased.

Ashley giggled, understanding perfectly. It wasn’t her vibe either.

“I could drive you over to yours, to get a change of clothes, and then we could head to Storm Surge together?” she suggested.

“Yeah? You want to walk in together like that?” Dougie asked, a little hopeful.

Holy shit, that would be one hell of a declaration. But…

“Yeah, I want that,” she nodded.

The grin that spread across Dougie’s face made the butterflies in her stomach worth it.

“Let me just put on some mascara and lipstick, and we can go?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Dougie smiled.

Now that was a dangerous thought.

All too soon, Ashley was parked down the street from the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, Dougie sending her an encouraging smile, before she steeled herself and got out of the car. This was nervewracking. Storm Surge was her home away from home, her safe space, her comfort, and now she was completely changing the status quo. But as Dougie walked to her side, smiling down at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew it was worth it. He was worth it.

“Ready?” Dougie asked, holding out his hand.

Holy shit. Bring it on.

Ashley smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers, embracing the butterflies that came with the warmth of his grasp. They walked to the coffee shop together, Dougie squeezing her hand gently as she opened the door and walked through.

“Ashley! And…Dougie?”

Andrei’s gasp made her blush, Dougie just laughing. Then Andrei’s face broke into a huge grin, and he spun around.

“Marty! It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Andrei yelled into the back of the shop.

What the hell?

A door slammed open in the back, and then Marty came barrelling out. He took one look at them holding hands before punching his fist in the air.

“LET’S GOOOO!”

Ashley flinched at Marty’s loud voice, but couldn’t help but giggle when he bounded over to Andrei, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

“Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been rooting for you two?” Marty beamed.

Oh god. Ashley blushed furiously, as did Dougie, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Was I that obvious?” Ashley asked shyly.

“Both of you were. It was so frustrating but so sweet,” Marty shrugged, Andrei nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “We just hoped you guys would take a chance,”

Take a chance. Hah. That’s definitely a good way to describe it. And he was so worth taking a chance on. Dougie smiled fondly down at her, before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Well I’d say our second date went pretty well,” Dougie said softly, squeezing her hand.

Ashley smiled back, nudging him with her shoulder, earning coos from Marty and Andrei.

“Okay, you two are giving me cavities,” Marty said cheerfully, not even slightly annoyed, “Coffee and anything you want to eat, on the house. I need to tell Slavs – he’s going to be thrilled!”

Ashley just giggled, leaning into Dougie’s body as she looked over the cakes and pastries on display. Being with Dougie, this fledgling relationship, was scary – but it was also so exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next. This was the start of something amazing, she just knew it.

[marvelsdc22]

Never Have, Never Will (pt. 2)

Intro: Hello, lovelies!!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! This one was requested by an anon, I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: Y/N is still reeling from the pain of being rejected by Lena, a little run-in with Kara and a much needed break opens their eyes to what love really was, the only downfall? Lena suffers the consequences.

Word Count: 1100

Hi, can I request a 2nd part of never have, never will? I don’t know, make lena suffer I guess hehe *evil laugh*

After you had left Lena and Kara that night, you had went and stayed with your cousin for a while to get back on your feet again, which was easier said than done, everything reminded you of her and you tried so hard to get her out of your head, but nothing seemed to work, what made it worse was that you had to see her at the coffee shop at least once a week since that was her go to place when she had time, but you always made your coworker take her order, not like she cared, she never spared you a glance.

About a month after moving, you decided you were going to take some time and travel for a bit, coming into your last shift for work before you left that weekend, you saw Kara come in through the front door, you shocked to see her since she never came here to begin with but she also knew that you worked there “Hey” Kara said when she recognized you, causing you to quirk an eyebrow “Hey…” You replied, watching as she gave you a small smile before she looked at the board “What can I get for you?” You asked, trying to remain as friendly as possible “Whatever you recommend” Kara said, looking at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle “I recommend going to the Starbucks across the street” you said, earning a chuckle from her and you couldn’t help it when your face started to burn since her laugh was honestly adorable.

The two of you fell into conversation after that, it feeling so natural until you heard the door jingle and saw Lena come in, making you move away from the counter and forcing your coworker to take over, which confused Kara “Hey, sorry for making you wait” Lena said, coming up to Kara and squeezing her shoulder in a more than friendly way, making your heart hurt more than it did “It’s fine, ready?” Kara asked, looking at Lena then giving you a look as she set down a piece of paper before she headed out with Lena, you coming out of hiding and grabbing the paper, finding Kara’s number on it and leaving you more confused than ever.

Getting home, you stared at the paper for the longest time, trying to decide what you should do She’s with Lena now… It’s not right… Is it? You thought to yourself, your mind bouncing back and forth with the good and the bad until you decided to just set the paper down and head to bed, deciding to make a choice when you returned from your trip in two weeks so you could sort everything out in your head.

Two weeks later, you forgot about the paper on your table and went into work for the day, seeing Kara already sitting at a table in the corner, seeming to be working on something on her laptop “Hey, Steve” you said, going up to the counter and heading into the back as Steve grunted in return Always a ball of happiness you thought to yourself as you pulled your apron on, heading back out when everything was in your locker and taking over for Steve, turning around and seeing Kara at the counter “Hey” you said, looking at her as she gave you a small smile “About your number-“ “Don’t worry about it, no harm done” Kara said, waving off your apology and watching you shake your head “You’re with Lena, I didn’t-“ “Lena?” Kara asked, giving a small laugh before she leaned forward against the counter “We aren’t really together” she said honestly, her face turning red from slight embarrassment for admitting that since she had kinda wished they were.

“I understand that pain” you said, knowing that Lena used to treat you the same way and you thought about it for a moment “Do you… Wanna go out sometime?” You asked, looking at her and watching her smile at you “I’d love to” she said, her seeming to perk up after you asked her that and the two of you looking at the door when Lena came in “Tomorrow? Say 9?” Kara asked, smiling when you nodded before she went to meet Lena at the door.

After some time, you and Kara started dating, Lena becoming less and less apart of both of your lives as you guys got closer, currently you and Kara were at the DEO since she had to pick something up from Alex before you guys went to hang out at Kara’s place “Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice ask, causing you to turn around and Y/E/C met vibrant green before you quickly averted your gaze “Hey, Lena” you said, this being the first time you actually spoke to her since everything went down “How… How are you?” Lena asked, looking at you and her having stepped closer to you “I’m okay… Why are you talking to me?” You asked, knowing she had to have a reason.

“Do I have to have a reason?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow at you and not understanding why you were upset “Well, no… But, after our last talk, I don’t think we can have a casual conversation” you said, looking at her and watching her bite her lip “I know… Can I make it up to you? Dinner?” Lena asked, looking hopeful as she looked at you “I-“ “Sorry I took so long! Alex was too busy making out with her girlfriend” Kara said, coming up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek before wrapping her arm around you “Oh, hey Lena, we were just heading out” she said, acting like she had just seen her when clearly she had seen her before she even came over to you.

Lena looked at you guys in slight shock and you swore you saw hurt in her eyes as she looked at the two of you before she went back to her neutral gaze “Of course, nice seeing you both” she said, her voice cracking slightly and you couldn’t help but feel bad since the two people that had wanted her were now together and you knew she had somehow, in her own way fell for both of you, but did nothing about it “Same to you” you said softly before you let Kara guide you out of the building, swearing you saw a tear slip down Lena’s face as you passed, but you said nothing, it was her own fault that she had lost the two people that cared for her most and she now had to live with that.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates​ / @natasha-danvers​ / @youngandwildx7​ / @stewie-castle​

Supergirl Taglist: @x-simmons-x​ / @aznblossom​ / @stop-drop-and-drumroll​ / @worlds-in-words​

Lena Taglist: @life2-live​ / @wlw-in-space​ / @ianarec​ / @thelonewriter247​ / @kalistory-blog​

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed and that this was enough angst for you, anon 😉. If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me and Ask or a DM!! Have a good day/night!! :)

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Anxiety | [Fem!Reader x Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Inspired by a post by @bluegalaxygirl​

Notes: This is brought to you by my social anxiety and my thirst for Obi-Wan Kenobi, yaaayy. Also, I have literally no clue how to write feelings.

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Self-Doubt, Self-Conciousness, slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Y/N has only recently become Obi-Wan’s padawan and she is struggling with her social anxiety and her relationship with her master, so she has a panic attack. Luckily, Obi-Wan himself comes for the rescue.

Word Count: 3868

© Fanficsforheartandsoul

________

She knew that her master would most likely disown her if he found out what she was doing right now. Obviously. Because emotions were prohibited. But she couldn’t control it. Not at all.

Y/N had always been alone. She didn’t join the order when she was an infant. She had lived for 13 years on her own on a small planet in the outer rim. She didn’t even know the name of the ice planet. The life in the tundras had been lonely but she felt comfortable. With the help of the force, she was able to survive just fine. Then the Jedi came.

Master Yoda brought her to Coruscant, introduced her to the council and decided that she should start to learn with the other younglings. 

The first mistake he made.

Y/N had never met any children, nor any group that consisted of more than 6 people. Having companions was new territory and being exposed to a huge amount of people for the first had caused her to lash out with the force. By accident, she not only hurt some younglings but also herself. The scars on her arms and left cheek would always remind her of that moment.

That’s when the wise Jedi grandmaster decided to teach her the basics himself. Alone. To help ease her agitation. It was a good idea. Y/N did approve after all. She studied the Jedi, learned the lightsaber forms, meditated. She was a good student, and Master Yoda was proud of her. But then the Clone Wars started and he had no time for teaching her anymore.

So he made his second mistake. 

He decided that it was time for her to become someone’s padawan. “Why can’t you be my master?”, she had asked him, her voice void of any emotion but not because she learned to properly follow the code. She had just learned how to hide them. His answer left her intestines churning and she was ready to shut herself in her room. But the Jedi obviously didn’t let her.

“Your new master, this is.”

And that’s how she got introduced to Obi-Wan Kenobi. A formidable Jedi with great patience and a humorous character. A kind soul.

From whom she was hiding right now.

Y/N had been his padawan for two months but she didn’t progress far. Her training went well, that was not the problem. Since they were alone when they meditated or trained. No, the problem was her social anxiety.

Meeting the clone troopers for the first time caused the panic attack she was having right now. They were supposed to have a meeting for an upcoming mission but Y/N ditched them. Not intentionally she’d like to say but that would be a lie.

She had already stood in front of the meeting room’s door but she couldn’t enter. Her legs felt like jelly. The padawan tried to calm herself but it was no use.

Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and she had trouble breathing. Her hands were clammy and she felt uncomfortable because she had broken out in a cold sweat. Footsteps were coming closer and she heard the voice of her Master from inside the room. A shaky breath escaped her lips and she whispered “I’m sorry” before she bolted.

She hid in her room. Not the best place of course, since he would probably search for her here, but there was no other place that calmed her down. Asides from Master Yoda’s side. But the council member was gone on a mission and he would probably also be disappointed if he found out about her panic attack.

Currently, she was leaning against her bathroom door and tried to meditate. But she couldn’t concentrate on her breathing because it felt like she was suffocating. “Don’t worry, Master Obi-Wan will understand”, she would tell herself but that only frightened her more. Because no way in hell would he understand! She had been living in the temple for 2 years but hadn’t met more than 8 people at the same time, not since the accident.

Every time Master Yoda tried to take her to one of the lessons with the younglings, her scars began to hurt. It wasn’t painful since she got used to it but it broke her concentration and seemingly also her spirit. Y/N couldn’t focus with the tingle that went up her arms and the force around her became unstable.

The same was happening now. She could feel it. The air around her felt heavy and made it hard for her to breathe.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She choked the words and tried to hold back a sob from her throat. She wouldn’t cry, because she couldn’t. It wasn’t allowed. And the code was the only thing that stopped her from falling into misery. So she clenched her teeth and tried to stop whimpering.

But thoughts of her master finding her invaded her head and tears threatened to spill.

He would be disappointed. Y/N didn’t worry about him hating her, no. She wouldn’t mind that. But disappointing him was far worse.

She knew that Master Kenobi disliked the idea of having to train a new padawan shortly after Anakin Skywalker, especially during the times of a War. He never showed it of course. But somehow she could feel it. Maybe it was because she had always lived alone, only with the company of animals, who could show their emotions with the force. But she was able to feel to a greater extent than others apparently.

That’s how she knew. That he would most likely spare her a glance and then abandon her. It made sense. She was not fit for a Jedi after all. They were supposed to be the stars of the republic, the peacekeepers who helped every civilian. But this meant that they would be in the light. But her life wasn’t made for that.

She was always meant to stay in the shadows. Where the darkness was calming, reassuring.

Maybe she should just give up and leave. Going home, to her real home, on the unknown ice planet, seemed like a good idea. It was a welcome one.

Y/N didn’t realize how she spiraled deeper down in self-doubt and self-consciousness. But surprisingly she calmed down a little. The thought of returning to her house, that was actually an old transport ship, relaxed her muscles and she could breathe better again.

But then it hit her. She had no money. And in fact, she didn’t even know the exact location of her home planet. Master Yoda never told her. Maybe be knew that she would waver!

Dread fell over her and she let her head hang low. Maybe he never trusted her at all. And when he had enough he cast her aside and let another person take over the dead weight. How Obi-Wan Kenobi must suffer with her as a padawan.

Shame made her cheeks burn and the tears welled up again. But this time they spilled over. Y/N clenched and unclenched her fights slowly. Her fingernails dug into her palm and the pain distracted her from the salty tears that rushed down her cheeks. The scars on her left one throbbed.

Maybe, just maybe, if she curled up and stayed in that position, she would just fade into the darkness and everyone would forget her.

-

“Have you seen my padawan?”

Obi-Wan was currently walking back and forth in the meeting room, his hand thoughtlessly on his lightsaber while he worried about Y/N. He knew he didn’t give her enough attention and the guilt ate him alive but like Anakin assured him, he was busy with the war and her shyness wasn’t helping with that.

“Your padawan? You know we’ve never seen her face before”, teased Anakin and Ahsoka gave her master an annoyed look.

*No, but… A girl was standing before the meeting room when I arrived half an hour ago”, she replied and Obi-Wan immediately stood a little straighter.

“Did she have h/c hair? And a scarred left cheek?”

Ahsoka tilted her head and tried to remember. “I didn’t see her face but she had h/c hair, yes. But she walked off in a hurry so maybe it wasn’t her.”

Obi-Wan remembered how the young girl always stormed off after their lessons as if she was running from something. He was sure, the person Ahsoka saw, was his padawan.

Why did she walk away? He knew he told her that the meeting started at 1100. Did she forget something? That didn’t seem likely.

“I know your padawan isn’t here, General Kenobi, but we should start anyway. We cannot leave the senator waiting”, said Captain Rex and he nodded in defeat.

The meeting began and they discussed their strategy but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite focus. He remembered the first time he met Y/N. How her young eyes were strangely dull.

The girl was a little shy according to Yoda but he learned fast, that this comment had been an understatement. When they walked to their first training lesson she said nothing. No word left her lips and the Jedi had wondered if she disliked him.

But when they fought he realized that she was nervous. Her attacks were timid and had almost no force and he began to wonder if it was the right decision to say yes. After all, it was only an offer, Yoda didn’t order him to take Y/N as his padawan. He had to admit that he even doubted the grandmaster’s judgment a little. But the girl proved to him that she was a good student. Technically.

Her skills were sharp when she fought against a training droid, she used form four like Master Yoda which surprised him since it was an offensive style. But he never saw her do it when they fought against each other. He wanted to tell her that she could use Ataru but her apprehension also made him hesitate and he felt like he couldn’t talk freely to her. If he needed to be honest, it was a little uncomfortable.

It was strange that he had problems adapting to her but to be fair, Anakin had been completely different when he was her age. It wasn’t just because she started her training a few years later than him, it was also her character.

From what he had learned in the first month, Y/N liked to stay secluded and isolated herself from others at her age. She got embarrassed easily and he often felt like she was like a scared animal that would run away if he made a wrong move.

And there was something else. Sometimes the force would radiate from her. It was as if a pipe had been opened and all her feelings were flushed out through the force. He couldn’t explain why but he never told the Jedi council about her emotions. Obi-Wan told himself that they weren’t concerning but when he stood there in this meeting room with a bad feeling in his chest, he changed his mind.

“…ood, then let’s conclude this meeti-”

“Thank you, Anakin, I’ll see you later. Goodbye”

With these words, he walked out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he picked up the pace and decided to look for Y/N in her room. It was the only place that seemed to make sense for him. Hopefully, she would be there because if she wasn’t he wouldn’t know where else to look. This realization just showed how much he neglected her and shame and guilt made his heart heavy.

He decided that they needed to talk. It would be hypocritical to spill their emotions when they were supposed to not let themselves be swayed by them but this was about their relationship as student and teacher. He wanted to apologize from deep within his heart. Obi-Wan realized that he had been a bad master for her and he knew that it needed to change.

So he hurried to the south wing, where Y/N’s room was located. He walked up the stairs and as soon as his foot stepped on her floor, he paused.

The force felt weird on this level of the temple. Unease filled his chest and his hand found his lightsaber, since touching it always calmed him down.

His intuition told him the dread that filled the air had something to do with his padawan. He walked down the hallway and stopped before her door. The nameplate next to it was dark, which meant there were no lights on in the room. But he didn’t turn away. He could feel her presence through the force. She was here. And she was hurting.

Worry coursed through his veins and he knocked on the door.

“Y/N? Can we talk?”

He waited a few seconds but there was no response. He knocked again. This time louder.

“Y/N, please. I-”

Obi-Wan stopped and waited, hoping she would answer but the silence remained.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

He didn’t expect a response, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get any. With the help of the force, he opened her door and stepped inside the room. Like the nameplate indicated, the lamps were off, but the big window let enough light inside for him to immediately see that she wasn’t here. She wasn’t laying in her bed, or sitting at the table studying, how he often found her when he was coming to pick her up for training. But the shift in the force was stronger than ever, so he knew she was here. The only place that was left, was the bathroom.

And not much to his surprise, its door was closed. He crossed the room and stopped before it. Now that he was standing so close, he was able to hear sniffles. The sound crushed his heart and he regretted listening to his former padawan so much.

Deep down he had known that what he was doing was badly hurting the young girl but he told himself it would be fine. He forgot how fragile and sensitive people were. Maybe the war had made him heartless. The anxiety he could feel through the force shook him to the core. He tried to steel his nerves but the emotions flowed through him and left his body numb.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his voice was soft.

He heard a breath hitch and the sniffles died down. She noticed him, now all she needed to do was talk to him.

-

Y/N almost died then and there.

He found her. Obviously. But she had hoped with the naive belief that he wouldn’t. She tried to suppress the sobs and quiet down but it felt impossible and honestly, she didn’t want to. There was a brief thought that she should just let it all out and show him how miserable he made her feel.

But the idea vanished as soon as it appeared. It wasn’t his fault. She was the one who was scared of other people, of interacting. It wasn’t normal, she wasn’t. He was just unfortunate enough to get paired with her.

“Leave me alone.”

Y/N only whispered it and it was almost inaudible but she was sure that he had heard her. He would definitely leave now. Leave her behind like her parents did, how master Yoda did, like everyone d-

“Let me in, Y/N. Please.”

Her heart missed a beat. Master Kenobi’s voice was soft and had a pleading undertone. She could sense genuine worry radiating from him through the force. Worry, guilt and also regret.

When she felt all these emotions, she couldn’t stop the sobs anymore. She pushed herself up and crawled away from the door. Maybe he sensed how she moved away, maybe he didn’t, but the door opened with the help of the force and she could see the blurry shape of her master standing in the doorway.

The light from the room shined in and outlined his features as if he was one of the republic’s posters coming alive. He looked like a savior. And the thought of him being that for her filled her heart with something she couldn’t describe.

He approached her and knelt in front of her. She could see his worried eyes through her tears and the warmth that radiated from his presence in the force. It felt familiar and surprisingly it made her feel like she was safe. Maybe she was allowed to cry some more. Maybe he allowed it until she calmed down and then he would just bring her to the counci-

“I won’t leave you alone anymore, Y/N. I’m sorry. I neglected my duties as your master and made you suffer.”

He held out his hand but paused as if he wanted her permission first to touch her. The padawan sniffled.

“I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan saw that as a cue and lightly touched her shoulders. The moment when his fingers touched her robes felt like a storm abruptly stopped. She stared at him with wide eyes. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to apologize but she suddenly threw herself into his arms.

Y/N cried into her master’s beige robes and her hands were shaking while she hugged him but she didn’t care. She sensed it when he touched her. He genuinely wanted to help her, to ease her pain. And for her, who so desperately wanted somebody to understand her and lend her a hand, it meant the world.

The Jedi was stiff at first since it rarely happened that somebody threw themselves into his arms, but when he felt her shaking hands and how wet his robes got from her tears, he raised his hands and returned the hug. His left hand stroked her back while his right pressed her head closer to his chest.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

The moment was intimate but he didn’t mind. If he could calm her down this way, he would gladly continue until she didn’t need him to do it anymore. Her body slowly stopped trembling and the sobs died down. Her voice was raspy when she said:

“I’m sorry that I didn’t attend the meeting.”

A small laugh escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth. He ruffled her hair and smiled slightly.

“Why would you worry about that? I found you having a breakdown in your bathroom, I believe we have other priorities.”

She nodded and looked up at him. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks slightly red from embarrassment. He let go of her and Y/N backed away until she sat leaning against the bathtub. He watched how she fiddled with her fingers, unsure of what to say.

Her Master then noticed that the force around them had calmed down. The anxiety was partly still there but it felt like an echo. Y/N then took a deep breath and said:

“I’m scared.”

He looked at her but he didn’t say anything, worried that she would stop before she even has properly begun to explain.

“I- I’m scared of people. I can’t really explain why but meeting a group is really stressful for me. It’s… uh… It’s like I feel like everybody’s looking at me and judging me and I can’t, can’t handle that well”, she started and avoided eye contact with him.

“I’ve always been alone and suddenly that changed and now everybody’s expecting me to hang out with all those people and there are so many clones and their feelings and emotions are all over the place, and I get all sweaty and I can’t prop-properly breath and it’s just… I don’t know… too much. It’s too much for me. I’m not used to be in the spotlight. I know that sounds arrogant because I know that not everyone is looking at me and watching every move I make but I just can’t stop from feeling like they do. And I’m feeling all this fear and anxiety and I can’t handle them knowing that what I’m doing is against the code and I feel like a failure, I am a failure and it’s… Maybe Master Yoda was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought me here.”

Y/N knew she was rambling and when she finally stopped to take a breather she looked up and watched her Master’s expression and when she saw his confusion, she regretted telling him.

“This… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, let’s just forge-”

“Do you feel the same with me?”

Master Kenobi’s question made her pause and when she searched his eyes for any disappointment or disdain she couldn’t find any. His words left her wondering. Was she feeling the same with him?

“No…”, it sounded unsure, but she didn’t add anything because she really wasn’t completely sure.

“Let me try to rephrase what you just said, okay?” She only nodded. “Am I correct when I say that you have anxiety when it comes to social interaction?” Again, he received only a nod.

Obi-Wan touched his beard and pondered over what he had just heard. Many things made sense now. Why Y/N was always studying alone, why she ate in her room instead of the cantina and why seemed like she was dying every time he saw her in a room with more than 3 people. But he still didn’t really understand why she had problems with that.

He searched her eyes and when she returned the eye contact he smiled softly and then said:

“I can’t really understand you, but”, he held up his hand when she tried to interrupt him, “I want to understand. And I want to help. I’m sure that the force will guide us both and I believe that, as master and padawan, together we can face your fear and ease it.”

Y/N leaned back, her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breathy laugh. Sneakily she wiped away a tear that threatened to spill again.

“That would be great… Master Kenobi.”

The Jedi’s smile widened and he put up his finger as if he wanted to warn her.

“I would prefer it if you call me Obi-Wan, at least in private.”

The padawan nodded and together they slowly stood up.

“Let’s try”, she added and her voice was quiet but he could hear the determined undertone.

“There is no try, padawan, only-”

“Do or do not, I know that one.”

He raised an eyebrow and then patted her shoulder smiling. It felt a little awkward but then her master interrupted the timid atmosphere:

“You said ‘their emotions are all over the place’. Does that mean you can sense feelings? To what extent?”

Y/N paused. Him speaking about her ability made her feel shy again.

“Uhm… I can tell what a person is feeling without concentrating too much. As long as I want to know, I can sense it clearly.”

Since the light was still not on in the bathroom and he turned away, she couldn’t see his expression but she felt embarrassment radiating from him. Maybe it was because of the moment they had just shared but she suddenly wanted to tease him.

Yet she didn’t. Not wanting to destroy the thin thread of a bond that they formed today.

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Party Games

With Wizards Hearts being over, it’s now time to start releasing masterlists.

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Status Quo by gin_tonic Rated Explicit   |    11,083 words  Tags:  Party Games, Spin the Bottle, Rimming Summary:  8th year has started and going back to school is harder than anyone thought. A proper outlet is needed – and found in games that hold more significance than anyone expected. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Starts with a Spin by Maxine Rated:  Explicit Words:  119,850 Tags:  Party Games, Spin the Bottle, Hogwarts Era, First Time, Humour Summary:  It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Lockdown by Vorabiza Rated:  Explicit Words:  35,143 Tags:  Party Games, Humor, Graphic Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism Summary:  Four Gryffindors and four Slytherins under a forced lockdown in the potions classroom for two days. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Perfectly Valid Dare by anokaba, kitty_fic Rated:  Explicit Words:  5844 Tags:  Aurors, Drinking, Light Dom/sub, Lace Panties, Alcohol, Praise Kink, Graphic Sexual Content Summary:  “It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says. “I am not doing that,” Draco insists. He really has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You Already Know What's Next by silverdawn89 Rated:  Teen Words:  14,612 Tags:  Party Games, Truth or Dare, Alcohol, Humor Summary:  It's about Truth or Dare, except it's not really about Truth or Dare at all. Or: there is alcohol and a bunch of twenty-somethings play embarrassing party games. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You should be so lucky by skriftlig Rated:  Explicit Words:  3221 Tags:  Party Games, Alcohol, Explicit Content Summary:  A version of the new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Drinking Game finds its way into the 'eighth year' common room at Hogwarts. Someone gets lucky. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Silk Scarves and Enchanted Handcuffs by TommyLane Rated:  Explicit Words:  28,659 Tags:  Party Games, Drinking, Loss of Virginity, Blindfolds, Handcuffs, Alternate Seventh Year, Scheming Friends, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content Summary:  It was only supposed to be for seven minutes and then the blindfold would come off and he'd be free from the dark cupboard and his mystery partner - only Harry was no longer sure he wanted it to end. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Contents Under Pressure by MiriMora Rated:  Teen Words:  2076 Tags:  Eighth Year, Party Games, Room of Requirement, Making Out Summary:  Party games are stupid and a waste of time. Until they're not. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Erase the Shame by FleetofShippyShips Rated:  Explicit Words:  6,763 Tags:  Epilogue What Epilogue, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Drinking Games, Party Games, Truth or Dare, Sectumsempra Scars, Frottage, Open Ending Summary:  An Inter-House unity party is the last thing Draco wants to go to. It's not long into a game of Truth or Dare when he is reminded why. But maybe his dare is worth it after all. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Kill, Fuck, Marry by lettersbyelise Rated:  Explicit Words:  12,650 Tags:  Post-Hogwarts, Epilogue What Epilogue, Drinking Games, Dancing, Explicit Sexual Content, H/D Wireless 2018 See work for more tags Summary:  Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. "I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend,paid you to spend the evening with me. It's my birthday, Potter. So you're going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you're going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night." Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco's birthday, years after their last encounter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Gryffindor And His Slytherin by ridleyrey Rated:  Explicit Words:  59,409 Tags:  Hogwarts Eighth Year, Roommates, Slow Burn, Epilogue What Epilogue, Room of Requirement, Drinking Games, Mutual Pining See work for more tags Summary:  What happens when Harry realises his new bedroom in the eighth year tower is right next door to Draco Malfoy? Harry, realising that he simply cannot deny his feelings for the blond any longer, needs to find out if Draco feels the same way. As Harry and his friends return for their eighth and final year at Hogwarts, unlikely friendships and relationships form and Harry finds himself mixed up in another year of surprise and unexpected twists and turns. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 East of Eden by  WriteSprite Rated:  Explicit Words:  41,122 Tags:  Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Parseltongue, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Biting, Drinking Games Summary:  When Harry receives a dodgy brochure for an island vacation, he isn't sure he should attend. After a bit of a push, he decides to go for it and winds up spending the week in paradise. At least it would be, if it weren't for that pesky blond git. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Save Myself by  psychotic_fangirl369 Rated:  Teen Words:  69,479 Tags:  Pining Harry Potter, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Party Games, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Enemies to Friends to Lovers See work for more tags Summary:  Harry Potter is trying to get on with his life, despite living in the shadow of the war. But 8th year doesn't go quite as he expects. What with midnight rendezvous in the 8th year common room, drunken confessions and seeing dead people everywhere he turns, Harry's school year is turning out to be just as bizarre as the previous ones. Oh, and there is the fact taht he has been pining over someone for years. And that person had to be Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 In This Cold Heart by maraudersaffair Rated:  Explicit Words:  22,893 Tags:  H/D Erised 2018, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Alternating POV, Bedsharing, Party Games, Pining, First Time See work for more tags Summary:  Eighth Year holds many surprises for Harry. Like sharing a bed with Draco Malfoy or being attacked by a revengeful Death Eater. Harry just wants to get on with his life. He also wants to snog Draco. Draco just wants to survive his last year at Hogwarts. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Right Hand Red by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) Rated:  Explicit Words:  73,173 Tags:  Hogwarts Eighth Year, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Bottom Draco, future switching, Party Games, Drunkenness, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Secret Relationship, Angst and Humor Summary:  Harry felt Malfoy's breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Under the Cover of Darkness by manixzen Rated:  Mature Words:  2046 Tags: Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Making Out, Snogging, Frottage, Clothes On, Post-Hogwarts, Party Games, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Sort Of, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, HP Kinktober 2020, One Shot Summary:  Thanks to Pansy, Draco's stuck at a party with a whole bunch of drunk Gryffindors. And now they want to play party games. If only Draco can slip out unnoticed before this gets any worse. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Kissing (Nox and Lumos) by small_gardens Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1100 Tags: Eighth year party/kissing games. Summary:  In the dark, Harry quite liked snogging his mystery bloke. But when the lights come back on, will he still be so happy? ❤️ Read on LJ