#so the past few weeks i’ve spent each class half listening to each lecture and drawing

[cool-abed-filmz]

a logan piece i did based off of this tik tok

[m88n]

[7.01 pm] - when a night spent together with mark lee makes you question his motives

►listen to boyfriend - ariana grande

You recall the events of yesterday night as you make your way to the upscale burger joint that’s been designated as the meeting point for a group of friends. Lingering touches, soft breaths. Whispers of sweet nothings from a boy with clear eyes and unspoken thoughts. You don’t know what happened there—one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were cuddling with him under his cold covers, the touches of his skin and lips becoming all too familiar to you. 

Lost in your thoughts, you realize that you’ve finally reached the diner. You reach for the door handle to enter the vicinity.

Images of his slender fingertips on his game controller flashing through your mind, you two were supposed to just spend time playing games as new friends with similar hobbies. But before you knew it, you were exchanging gazes in the silence of his studio apartment, and suddenly, you were kissing each other.

You’ve been thinking about this since last night.

“y/n, come over here! Happy you made it,” A friend calls out to you from a booth.

You don’t know what to make of it, because the way he asked for 10 more minutes of your cuddles that night, yet tearing his eyes away from you all too quickly the morning after, avoiding any lingering touches as he takes you to your cab, makes you question his motives.

You sigh your thoughts out as you sit next to Sarah, the girl who everyone generally dislikes due to her disposition and behavior, but honestly, you prefer to focus on her good parts, like her bubbliness, and her ability to bring people together.

“Hey, what’s up guys?” You greet everyone, and they greet you back in unison, all smiles.

“So, everyone here?” Jeno asks Sarah.

She giggles coyly, then says in a lowered volume, “No, I invited this guy, he’s so cute. I’ve been trying to get to him since last month ever since I saw him in my stats class. Finally got his number last week,” She finishes, playing with her hair.

“Oh, alright. That’s taking awfully long, knowing how you play,” Jisung jokes backhandedly, and you shoot him a warning look, albeit with a smile threatening to break out.

Jisung smiles back at you and looks down at his cup, trying to contain himself from bursting out in laughter.

“Yeah, I know right? Guy’s got a real tight defense, what gives,” She continues, “Usually guys would’ve been all over me at this point. I wonder what’s his problem.”

Sarah turns at you, to your surprise, “Hey, y/n, what do you think? I need to get him for me.”

Not knowing how to respond, you shrug at her question. “I honestly don’t know Sarah, you’d know better than I do.”

“Yeah, thought I’d ask you cause you do these things unreasonably slow, it’s so weird, honestly y/n, you could do so much better,” She responds. You nod at her as she keeps on talking, your eyes lingering at Jisung, who gives you a look full of condolences, slowly shaking his head at you.

“—Oh hey, over here!” Sarah suddenly stops her train of endless lecturing in order to greet someone at the entrance with complete haste.

You breathed out in relief, that is, before your eyes hover over the direction of the entrance.

Mark.

It’s Mark.

“Hey everyone, this is Mark Lee, guy from my stats class, the one I’ve told you about,” Sarah announces to the rest of the table.

“Hey guys,” Mark greets, waving at your group, before his eyes meet yours.

You swear you could’ve seen a millisecond of him slightly raising his brows, but he continues as if nothing’s happened, taking the only vacant seat next to you.

“Hey man,” Mark leans in to greet someone on the table.

“Hey, doing alright?” Jisung responds.

“Not bad,” Mark says as he sits back down.

Even though you don’t mean to, your eyes are definitely shooting daggers at Jisung at this point. He looks back at you and flashes a small reserved smile that’s hard to decipher. Park Jisung, I swear.

“I didn’t know you guys knew each other! Jiji, you never told me!” Sarah bellows from beside you, snapping you out of your train of thought. Though, you proceed to look at Jisung with the same questionable look.

“First off, Sarah, don’t call me that,” Jisung says, “Second, how am I supposed to know Mark’s the guy you have in stats? I’m not an oracle,”

“Oh Ji, always so cute,” Sarah responds as she looks over you to lock eyes with Mark, “That being said, Mark, do you want to switch seats with my friend here? She doesn’t talk too much to people she just meets so you’re probably better off—”

“I’m good here, thanks Sarah,” Mark responds with a polite smile, “I can go in and out easy to get water and go to the bathroom here, so I’m good really.”

“Oh well, whatever you say Mark,” Sarah says, giggling to herself, “Before we order, let’s introduce you to everyone, you already know Jiji,” She proceeds to give out a brief introduction of each of the people on the table starting from Jisung, Mark greeting each one with attentiveness.

“… And this is y/n. She’s a psych major,” Sarah finally gets to you, “She loves stuff like anime, but don’t get me wrong, she’s cool, kinda unexpected, she’s got around like 7 tattoos hidden on her body and stuff yknow,”

“Yeah, I know.” Mark says simply as he pulls the slightest of smiles, shifting his gaze from Sarah to you.

You see Jisung struggle to stifle a look in his face from the corner of your eyes, his hand gingerly coming up to cover his mouth, quickly picking up the restaurant menu before mindlessly looking through it.

“Oh yeah, I guess you would, you could see one peeking out on her wrist,” Sarah says as laughter bubbles out of her chest, taking the menu in one hand, “Alright now that that’s over with, let’s order everybody,”

Everyone talks about their orders with each other, while Mark and you sit in silence for a few minutes as you both browse the menu by yourselves.

Mark finally looks at you from the corners of his eyes.

“….Having trouble deciding?”

You chuckle, “Yeah.”

“Number 3 has beetroot in it,” Mark says.

“...Yeah, I know, but it’s so big. I won’t be able to finish it.” You reply.

“We can share.” He says.

You look at Mark, trying to figure this boy out, but decide upon yourself that it’d probably be the best outcome anyway since both of you love beetroot in burgers.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.” You respond.

“Cool.” Mark says.

“—What about you y/n? Have you decided yet? You always take ages to decide,” Sarah suddenly turns to you to ask in the midst of all the chatter.

“Oh, uh—”

“Yeah, she’ll be sharing with me, we’re getting number 3,” Mark chimes in.

“Oh. Okay, well, too bad I don’t like beetroot. Good thing Mark’s nice y/n,” Sarah says in response.

“Yeah, I guess,” You say.

Not too long after everyone finishes ordering, the orders arrive, and you’re greeted by the large burger you’re thankful to be sharing with someone else. You pick up your fork and knife to halve the burger.

“Let me.” Mark says, and before you knew it, he’s already in the middle of cutting your burger in half.

“Thanks, Mark.” You say to him, smiling. He just smiles back at you in response.

“....Yeah, he’s holding a birthday party next Saturday, at Scarlett Saturdays. I have an engineering essay due on the next Monday, but I’ll be going since he’s my bro and all,” You notice Jeno in the midst of his conversation with the others.

“Jaemin? You mean the Jaemin guy that went after y/n for the longest time?” Sarah asks in between bites. You notice Mark halts for a split second before he finishes cutting the burger.

“Is going after. He asked me to ask her to come. But knowing her, I didn’t even try,” He says, chuckling.

“Why don’t you go for it already, y/n? Even though he’s not really my type, I think he’s mad cute. Do you not think so?” Sarah says, turning to you.

“…I mean, yeah, he’s cute I guess. I don’t know.” You reply concisely, not really feeling like talking about that right now. You proceed to cut a small bite sized piece of the beetroot burger you’ve instead been thinking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Maybe think about it though. Just one night. Jaemin does seem like a bit of a flirt and a player, but I think he really does like you,” Jeno continues, munching on his burger.

“It’s about time you get some action don’t you think,” Sarah follows up on him.

You cough on your burger, startled by Sarah’s remark.

“Water,” Jisung readily hands you a new glass of water, as if on cue.

“Thanks, Ji,” You say, taking it from him, before gulping on it to ease your choking. God, it really seems like you’re not taking any breaks tonight. Not even to eat the beetroot burger you’ve come here to eat in the first place.

“Right? I think you really should go for it y/n,” Sarah insists, “You’re in uni, live your life instead of being inside all the time, watching anime and playing games or something,”

You sigh out, trying to ease the slight annoyance that’s starting to creep onto you. Would people just let you eat your goddamn beetroot burger already that’s starting to turn colder by the minute.

“Say, Jeno was it?” Mark suddenly says out of the blue, cutting his share of the burger, “You take chemical engineering? How far along are you in that report?”

“....Maybe 40 percent or something, probably not good enough.” Jeno muses, “You take the same class as I do, dude? Maybe we could shoot ideas to each other. Jaemin doesn’t take his studies too seriously.”

“Yeah, I’d be open to that.” Mark says, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

With that simple interruption, everyone finally drops the topic and goes back to eating. You sigh out in relief, finally revelling in the relative quietness.

You gently elbow Mark’s arm while smiling, “Thanks.”

He smiles back at you with those clear eyes that became overly familiar to you after yesterday night’s events. But before you get too deep in thought, and your burger gets even colder, you shake it off and continue eating.

That is, before you feel Mark’s thigh brush against yours, and continues eating while he lets your thighs touch, as if… He meant to do that in the first place. You figure that mulling over on these budding thoughts wouldn’t serve you well at the moment, it would only cloud your head even more, and so you finally choose to just ignore it.

“….Hey dude, what’s up? I’m eating right now,” Jeno says, after finally picking up his phone that’s been vibrating on the table for the past minute while the others continue eating.

“Yeah, I got Ben to join, probably a good idea to book 3 tables,” He says, “Can we call later? I’m with the others right now, it’s kinda rude—“

“Yeah, y/n’s here,”

You sigh out, knowing exactly who’s on the other side of the phone. Tired of dealing with the whole topic, you continue eating anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I asked her dude. It’s a no go,” He continues, “Look, if we’re gonna be talking about this can we—”

“Dude we’re literally eating right now, I’m telling you that’s what she said,”

Jisung glances at you, knowing full well that you’re incredibly annoyed at this point but still keeping it under wraps.

“Fine but if you stuff up I’m not gonna do anything about it alright, I’m just the messenger,” He says, before putting the phone in front of you, prompting you to look up from your plate.

“It’s Jaemin. He wants to talk about the party.”

“Can’t he just call her phone directly instead of asking you to?” Jisung asks Jeno.

“He keeps on telling me she won’t pick up. Persistent, that guy.” Jeno replies.

You stare at Jeno in disbelief. Jeno’s actually a good guy, academically smart, but sometimes he could really be a blockhead, and it always surprises you how that part of him could annoy you to no end.

“What you waiting for y/n? Talk to him!” Sarah says excitedly.

To your complete surprise, Mark snatches the phone off of Jeno’s hand faster than everyone on the table could even register it in their minds.

“Hey dude, y/n’s not coming. Based on what I’m hearing, she’s really not into you. You don’t know me, my name’s Mark, and I’m really into her. Only difference is, she’s reciprocated in some ways. I wanted to do things in order with her, but I’m discovering it really doesn’t matter anyway. If she doesn’t like it, she won’t go for it. And she’s not going for it dude, at least not with you.”

[flourgirl]

When The Party’s Over

Part II to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn x Reader

Summary: The closer that Peter gets to Gwen, the more he realizes how irreplaceable you are to him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A few curse words here and there.

A/N: There’s going to be a third and final part to this story, so if you’d like to be tagged in it, please shoot me an ask or a reply and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list. Hope you guys enjoy this new part and happy reading :-)

“Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standing out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go” -Where Do Broken Hearts Go, One Direction

It had been 17 days since you had last seen Peter and all you could do was sit in your favorite coffee shop and stare at all the muffins in the case. Peter loved muffins. His favorite flavor was banana nut, and usually the two of you would jam out to all of your favorite songs while you waited for them to come out of the oven.

“Y/N,” Betty said, snapping you out of your daze, “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at the pastries for, like, five minutes.”

MJ put down whatever book she had decided to read this week. “Yeah, if you want one, go for it. You deserve it. Here, I’ll pay.” 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded up $10 bill, dropping it onto the table in front of you, and returned to her book.

“You could get a slice of cheesecake,” Betty suggested. “I know how much you like the raspberry one from here.”

But all you could think about was how you wished Peter loved you the way that he loved those stupid banana nut muffins.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, crossing your arms and closing your eyes to take in the soft jazz music that was playing alongside the chatter of the café. “But I’m keeping the ten bucks.”

“Maybe it would help take your mind off of things if you met someone new,” MJ suggested without even looking up at you. It was honestly amazing how she could carry on a conversation while still being so engrossed in her book.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Betty agreed, “You’re so smart, and pretty, and you made all of the baked goods currently taking up lots of precious space in our kitchen.”

“You’re a stress baker,” MJ added. She was right. Over the past two and a half weeks since that night, you had baked three cakes, four pies, and seven different kinds of bread. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night you tried out the new focaccia recipe you had been eyeing.

“I don’t know, guys,” you said, slinking further down into your chair. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured you. “Take all the time you need. But we’re here for you, Y/N.”

And that’s how the rest of that day went. Lots of suggestions on ways to stop thinking about Peter and you shooting them down. No matter how Betty and MJ tried to make you feel better, your mind was stuck on the nine voicemails and thirty-two texts he had sent you saying how he was sorry for whatever he did and how he just wanted things to be normal again.

Except you didn’t want normal. You wanted him. You wanted his bad puns and the way his sweaters smelled when he let you borrow one. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know that he had broken your heart.

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

It wasn’t like Peter didn’t like Gwen. She was outgoing and confident, and he liked how it felt like she was always the center of attention. People wanted to talk to her, or sit next to her, or even have her know that they existed.

But she wasn’t anything like you, and the more time that Peter spent with her, the more apparent that became. She didn’t rant about reality TV or get so overwhelmed during public speaking assignments that the only way she could calm down was with a hug from him. In many ways, she was perfect. Except for the fact that she wasn’t you.

“We’re still on for Flash’s party on Saturday, right?” Gwen asked as she walked with Peter out of the lecture hall where they learned about vascular mechanics.

Honestly, Peter hadn’t even remembered that she had asked him to go to that until she brought it up just now. He was too stressed out wondering whether or not you’d ever speak to him again. 

But what did he do to make you upset? He had promised that if you wanted to leave the party, you could tell him and the two of you would go. Except you never said anything. You just got up and left, without even saying goodbye. You hated him and it killed him to not know why.

Despite this, he wanted to be the good guy and not disappoint any more people, and so he took Gwen’s hand in his and said, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there.”

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

If someone had told you that you’d run into Harry Osborn in the middle of Arthur Avenue, you’d say they were crazy. And if that same someone said that you’d ask him on a date, they’d be even crazier. But somehow, some way, that’s exactly what happened.

You were on the way to interview a third-generation restaurant owner for your Italian class. You had never been very good at foreign languages, but you would use any excuse to take a trip to Little Italy. The nervous knots in your stomach from the possibility that they would only speak in a dialect that you couldn’t understand was worth it, because this little nook of the city was home to the best arancini in all of America.

To be honest, it seemed unbelievable that he’d be there, at that exact time, in that exact place to where you’d run right into him. You had been too busy reviewing the notes you had taken during the interview to see that you were on a direct path towards face planting into his torso.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, staring down at your notes scattered on the sidewalk at your feet. The guy you had just ran into kneeled down to gather them into a neat stack, handing them back to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, which caught you off guard. Who the hell was this? It wasn’t until you stared at his face for a few seconds that you recognized him. That guy that Gwen was with at the party. He looked a lot different in his button down and khakis compared to the sweatshirt and baseball cap he had on when you had first met him.

“Uh, hi. You’re Gwen’s friend, right? Henry.” You knew his name. You just didn’t plan on letting that you knew it.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry. Sorry about that, by the way. So, anyway, what brings you all the way down to Little Italy? It’s pretty far from campus,” he told you, as if you didn’t know that. I mean, you had walked all the way here, hadn’t you?

You shrugged, looking away from him. “I guess I could ask you the same thing.”

It was the first time in a while that someone wasn’t fawning over him just because he was rich. Honestly, it was really refreshing. “I asked first,” he noted, mimicking your crossed arms with a smirk.

Who does this guy think he is? 

“Listen,” you sighed. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my apartment and finish up writing this essay that’s due at midnight.”

“So you’re taking Italian, I presume?” he asked, it suddenly becoming quite clear as to what you were doing on the other side of the city.

“Yeah. And let me guess, you were eating brunch at some fancy, expensive restaurant that your dad owns, drinking some $100 bottle of wine while some nerd you pay does your homework, huh?”

“No,” he laughed. “I was helping put together Thanksgiving dinner baskets for underprivileged families down at the soup kitchen.”

It was only then that you noticed how annoyingly handsome he was. Essentially, he was the male version of Gwen. Same blonde hair and preppy style that just screamed “I have a trust fund.”

“Of course. What, did you need a good photo op ever since the Daily Bugle ran that issue where they called you a spoiled playboy who loves to party?”

You had no intentions of entertaining him, especially since he was a friend of Gwen’s. The girl that had kissed Peter right in front of you, and pretended like she couldn’t remember your name. The girl that Peter was probably with right now.

“I’m not going to pretend like that wasn’t part of it, but believe it or not, I’m not actually as big of a selfish asshole as the papers make me out to be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I can tell by the cashmere sweater vest and leather loafers that you’re wearing that you’re so down to earth.”

There was an awkward silence, and Harry decided to change the subject before he pissed you off even more. But what he chose to mention next was the one thing on the planet that you didn’t want to talk about.

“So, uh, I guess your friend Peter is with Gwen now,” he started, which had somehow managed to make you dislike him even more than you already did. Sure, there was no way for him to know how you felt about the whole situation, but it still pained you to think about how you had become an afterthought to who you thought was the guy who would always have your back.

You blinked back at him, frowning. “Yeah, I guess so,” you muttered. And then there was another awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. It’s obvious I’m taking up some very precious time in your day,” he said, offering a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around campus.” 

It suddenly dawned on you that you might have been just a little too hard on him. He seemed nice enough, even if you weren’t a big fan of the company he kept. Before you could even really think about it, you called out, “Wait!” and walked over to meet him when he had turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, nervously toying with the hem of your sweater. “I’m just in a really bad mood.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, although he wasn’t quite as confident as when the two of you had started your conversation. “We all have bad days. I hope yours gets better.”

“It could, if you’d let me buy you a coffee,” you said, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. Sure, it was nice to think that Peter would probably be upset once he heard that you had asked someone out and he knew nothing about it, but a small part of you was asking just because Harry Osborn seemed like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.

“Sure,” he answered back, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually perfect messy-but-not-too-messy state. “Have you ever been to Hungry Ghost in Brooklyn?”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s actually my favorite café! They have this really awesome grand piano in the middle of the room, and every Friday they have an open mic where anybody can sign up to play it.”

Your enthusiasm honestly surprised you. It was nice to have something to talk about that didn’t somehow involve Peter.

“Actually, I’m signed up to play tomorrow night,” Harry told you, “Do you like jazz?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. You loved jazz. “Definitely,” you confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, cool. Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you buy me a coffee if you come watch me play tomorrow night.”

“Deal,” you agreed, before turning back towards your apartment, all giddy with excitement to tell MJ and Betty about what had just happened.

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

“You probably didn’t know this, but Y/N’s been hanging out with Harry Osborn,” Ned said, walking into the common room wearing his “special” Hawaiian shirt, which Peter knew meant he was going someplace fancy. “They’re kind of dating.”

Peter looked up immediately from his linear algebra homework. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about what Ned had just revealed, but he didn’t know why. He was with Gwen, and if you wanted to date Harry Osborn, then you could. But still, he found himself being just a little bit jealous that some other guy was filling in for him.

“Oh,” Peter said, looking back down at his homework. He couldn’t focus anymore, so he just shut the notebook and threw it from where he was sitting on the top bunk onto his desk. “How long has that been going on?”

“Two days now, but they’ve been spending every minute together since. Betty said that they bumped into each other on the street and she just asked him on a date out of nowhere,” he replied, tying his shoes to go meet his girlfriend for date night. “I just thought I’d let you know, in case you saw them when you were out and got mad at me for keeping it from you.”

“Thanks, dude,” Peter sighed, lying on his back, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. Anytime, man. Now I gotta go. M’lady awaits,” he said. Peter didn’t even have to look to know that his roommate had just tipped his imaginary fedora.

Harry Osborn wasn’t even your type, Peter thought. You didn’t like guys as “pretty” as him, and you had always been more into brown eyes, not blue. So what was the appeal? His trust fund? Peter knew that you weren’t that shallow. It was just that, well, he couldn’t imagine you falling for someone like that.

You’re with Gwen, Peter kept reminding himself. So many guys would kill to be in your place. It wasn’t until he checked the time that he realized that he was actually about 20 minutes late to meeting her for the party. The stupid party at Flash Thompson’s tacky apartment that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

It was an understatement to say that Gwen was pissed when Peter knocked on her front door over half an hour late to the time they had agreed upon.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,” she complained, smoothing out her sparkly silver dress that caught the light just right when she moved.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, grabbing her hand as they walked down the street. “Uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

When they finally arrived at the party, the bowls of potato chips and mini pretzels were nearly empty. The floor was sticky, and Old Town Road boomed from the speakers in the living room. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter told Gwen, leaving her to greet all of her friends that had been waiting for her to show up. 

As Peter wandered towards the keg, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Harry, and all the things that he didn’t know about your newfound relationship with some guy you had just met. He still didn’t know why he was so upset about it. He should be happy you had found someone you liked. In high school, all you ever talked about was finding the perfect guy, and if that was Harry Osborn, who was Peter to make a fuss about it?

But that didn’t stop Peter from filling up his plastic cup more times than he should’ve that night. It wasn’t until he was being dragged back to his dorm room by Gwen after puking on Flash’s couch that he realized what was wrong. He wanted to be that guy. The one who got to hold your hand and cuddle with you during scary movies. The one that got to love you and be loved by you.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn

P.S.: Sorry to all the people I forgot to tag on this one! I didn’t know that when you answer asks privately, they go away from your inbox. Please shoot me another ask or reply to this post so I don’t miss you again!

[tiffdawg]

Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Fifteen

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one’s life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 7.0k

Rated: E  | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, sex, public sex, oral sex (female receiving), cumplay, dirty talk. Mentions of alcohol. Mild language. 18+ only.

Chapter Summary: In this chapter, you and Javier attend the holiday party for the social sciences’ faculty.

A/N: I really risked it all for y’all just to login and post this. I still haven’t seen the finale so I’m going to drop this and run but I’d love to know what you think. I hope this chapter makes the extra-long wait worth it.

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Fifteen

Unsurprisingly, things were tense the next morning

Javier was up before you but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Although considering it was a quarter past seven you wondered how much sleep the man could’ve gotten. What was surprising was that you woke alone.

Then you ate breakfast together in silence. Moved about your 400 square foot studio in silence. Worked across the dining table grading papers in silence.

Javier was never an overly talkative person but that was unlike him. It was unlike the two of you. You knew there were things from his past that troubled him. Things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The longer you’d known him, the more time you spent together, the more you felt his sadness. But he seemed determined to hide it from you.

However, you couldn’t dwell on it. Not until you’d finished grading exams and assigned final grades and could put the fall quarter behind you. With a Monday deadline, work came first.

Eventually, Javier finished his grading. He gathered his things to go home and dress for the faculty party that evening, leaving you with just a kiss on your cheek and a promise to pick you up at six. You hummed noncommittally as you watched him leave.

Sunny whined at the closed door before looking over her shoulder at you with a silent question in her wide brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong either,” you answered with a shrug. She laid down where she was, head on her paws and a rather sad expression of her face.

… . …

By some miracle, you were able to focus long enough to finish your grading with enough time to spare to get ready for a night out. At 5:58 you walked out of your building into the dark evening and found Javier waiting for you at the bottom of the stoop. It was a chilly night and you pulled your wool coat tighter around you as you closed the last bit of distance between the two of you. For the first time that day, as he held his hand out to you, he smiled. It was nothing more than a slight pull at the corner of his lips, but it was something.

You took his hand and let him lead you toward his car. When he reached into his coat pocket, presumably in search of his keys, he pulled out a half-finished pack of Nicorette. He tossed it in a nearby trash can.

“Why did you do that?” you asked without thinking.

He shrugged as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. “I don’t need it.”

You made no move to get in. “I thought you were trying to quit.”

“I… I did.”

“Really?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“I haven’t needed it for a couple of weeks now actually.”

 “Javi, that’s amazing,” you smiled as you brought him to you for a kiss by the lapels of his coat. “I’m so proud of you.”

 He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re proud of me?”

 “Yeah,” you said easily. He still didn’t seem to believe you. You continued tentatively, afraid you might say the wrong thing but needing to say something all the same. “Sometimes I just– I feel like I don’t actually know that much about you. Or, I should say, about your past. And I don’t need to know anything more than what you want to tell me,” you added quickly. “But I see you. I see you trying to be a better man. Everyday.” Your hands moved on their own accord to cup his freshly shaved cheeks. “I’m proud of you. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I–” Javier opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t manage more than that single syllable.

Instead, he stared at you. You might’ve crossed some unspoken line, but you didn’t care. You’d meant everything that you said. His eyes shifted away as he stared at something past you for a drawn-out moment. “Come here,” he finally managed, and he pulled you into his embrace. The two of you held each other in the middle of the sidewalk, letting the few people out and about walk around you. “You’re too good for me, compañera.”

“I know,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. His fingers dug into your sides and you laughed. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

He sighed heavily. “I’d rather have one good night with you before I leave. I’m not going to see you for more than two weeks.”

Deciding not to question it, you put it out of your mind. Maybe what happened was a one off. Still, you pulled back and scowled at him. “Then stop being such a….”

“An asshole?”

“Exactly.”

He huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes but nodded his agreement. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You gonna make it up to me?”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

A chill shot down your spine at the insinuation. “Good,” you smirked, “so do I.”

… . …

The country club was only a short drive past the university and up into the hills amongst rows of gated mansions. Slipping out of the car before the valet approached, you darted in ahead of Javier. The bubble that the two of you were living in still didn’t extend to work, not entirely. Not beyond fucking in your offices and occasionally brushing hands under the table at faculty meetings.

Inside, the already gilded ballroom was draped in silver and gold holiday decorations from ceiling to floor. Every inch sparkled and shone in the chandelier light. Your colleagues from across the school of social sciences crowed the hall, all dressed to the nines with glasses of champagne and hors-d’œuvre topped with caviar in their hands.

You politely made your rounds before you found yourself conversing with Debra by the bar as you waited for a cocktail. She was her usual gossipy self, going on and on about the latest office drama. That was when you first spotted Javier amongst the crowd.

He wore a well-fitted black suit – one that was significantly more flattering than some of his older ones and you idly wondered if it was new – with a white shirt, forgoing a tie so that his tanned chest was still exposed, even on a winter night. His dark hair was styled just enough to keep it off his face. Even from across the room, you could see the glimmer in his warm brown eyes as he chatted away with someone. You were surprised when he walked right up to Rafael Garcia, one of the younger professors from the political science department. You watched as they shook hands and he was introduced to his wife, noting the genuine smile on his face.

“We just started seeing each other a couple of weeks ago but it’s going well so far. I really like him.” Deb’s voice brought you back to the present.

“That’s nice,” you replied absentmindedly.

“What about you, doc?”

“What? Oh, no. I don’t have time for something like that.” You waved her off, but your eyes still followed Javier across the room. You tried to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“That’s a shame.” Debra looked out at the crowd and sighed. “He never flirts with me. Not anymore, at least.”

“Your new boyfriend?”

“No,” she laughed and smacked your shoulder playfully. “Javier,” she answered, lowering her voice.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Although you hoped it wasn’t that obvious who you’d been looking at. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. And don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Sure, but Javier was always fun to flirt with. It certainly made work more interesting. You know,” she took a sip of her martini, “the two of you seem awfully friendly lately. I thought you hated him.”

“I do,” you answered quickly.

“Well, don’t let Dr. Campbell hear you speak ill about his favorite lecturer.” She raised her brows over her class as the department chair approached the two of you. You stifled a sigh.

… . …

Javier sipped at his drink as he listened to Sofia Garcia regal him with the story of how she met her husband. He’d hardly spoken to the man before than night, but after five minutes with his loquacious wife, he felt like he knew his whole life story.

“I played on the Mexican women’s national team for a few years after college until I injured my knee. But it was a blessing. I was offered a coaching position here a week later and by the end of my first season we were engaged.” She held up her left hand where a modest diamond sat on her ring finger. “That was nearly fifteen years ago. Now he’s the only one who plays soccer.”

“Yeah,” Rafael scoffed, “I play in an adult league with my cousin and some old college friends. That hardly counts. She’s the real athlete.” He looked fondly on his wife who beamed back at him. Even Javier had to admit they made a handsome couple. And it had nothing to do with his expensive looking suit or her champagne dress. It was something about the way they looked at each other. they were easily better conversationalists than most of the people in that room. You weren’t kidding when you said academics only knew how to talk about journal articles and research funding. “You ever play, Peña? We’re actually looking for one more.”

Javier shook his head. “I played when I was a kid but that was a long fucking time ago.”

“Don’t worry, man, it’s not that serious. We drink the whole game. All you gotta do is pay for the keg when it’s your turn.”

Javier laughed, surprised by his answer. “I could get on board with that.”

The conversation moved on, but Javier was only half aware of whatever question he was being asked. Just over Rafael’s shoulder, he caught sight of you. With a red dress with thin straps draped across your form that left everything and nothing to the imagination, you looked… alluring.

“Hey, uh, you look like you could use a refill,” Rafael commented, pointing toward the bar where you were standing.

“Yeah,” Javier nodded, “I’ll catch you later. Nice meeting you, Sofia.”

“I hope to see you around, Javier.” She smiled kindly at him, but Javier was already on the move, swiftly cutting through the crowd as he contemplated the ways that he could get you alone.

“Whiskey. Dry,” he ordered, leaning against the bar next to you.

“How are you enjoying the evening, Professor Peña?” Debra simpered.

“Much better now that I’m talking to you lovely ladies,” he answered without missing a beat.

On cue, Debra’s whole face flushed bright red.

“I’ll have you know I’m spoken for now. Your charm won’t work on me anymore.”

“That’s too bad.” His eyes slid to you. And then up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?” He offered you the perfect set up on a silver platter. And you took it.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Peña,” you shot back. His lips quirked as he repressed a smile.

“Don’t you two ever get tired of antagonizing each other?” Debra scoffed before traipsing off. He was hoping that would work.

The bartender placed Javier’s drink on the counter and then he turned back to you, still admiring your dress. Now that he was near you, he noticed the fabric was a soft red velvet he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on.

“You looked like you were enjoying your conversation with Rafael.”

“He does some interesting work on South American politics,” he offered distractedly, his eyes snapped back up to yours. “I probably shouldn’t ask you to dance.”

You reeled back a little, as if the question surprised you. “Probably not. That might ruin the whole facade of me hating you.” He made a sour face as he looked at his glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid a few times. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the dancing type, Javi.”

He grinned. “I love dancing.”

“You never take me dancing.”

“Fucking shame. I’m gonna start.” You beamed at him, uncaring, just for a moment, who saw. It was a smile nothing short of dazzling. He took a step closer. “You look stunning.”

“You drove me here.”

“I thought you were stunning then too. But you were wearing a coat and I didn’t get to see this.” He ran the back of his knuckles down the fabric of your dress just over that sensitive spot on your side he liked so much. “You were right. This is definitely worth it.”

“What if I told you there’s more,” you said unaffectedly, feigning interest in your empty glass. The mischievous look in your eyes when they met his confused expression gave you away. Gently, you brought his hand to your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and his fingers instantly hooked around the strap of the garter belt holding your sheer stockings in place.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go,” you cooed. His hand traveled up the strap to the apex of your thighs where he found little more than a thin piece of lace below the belt. “Careful,” you warned him, pushing his hand away.

Turning so that his body pinned you between him and the bar top and shielded you from the rest of your colleagues, he grasped your hand and brought it to the front of his pants “Can you feel what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” Your smile was absolutely wicked.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is not to kiss you right now?”

“Yes.” You squeezed him through his trousers. Javier might’ve looked remarkably calm, but he knew you felt his reaction. He steeled himself as he finished his drink and set the glass on the counter behind you.

“Follow me.”

… . …

Keeping a few steps behind him, you followed Javier back to the front of the club. You assumed he was leading you out to the car but apparently, he had something else in mind. He swung open the door to the coat check, since abandoned by the clerk now that all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. With some idea of what he had in mind, you hoped no one was inclined to leave early.

His mouth was on yours in an instant and as soon as the door was shut, you were pressed up against it.

“The coat closet at the holiday work party?” you asked in between fevered kisses. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“Honey,” he murmured against your neck as his lips moved lower and lower, “I know for a fact it turns you on when we fuck in public.”

His hand slipped underneath your dress again, following the same path as earlier, and he pressed his fingers against the lace covering your cunt, now soaked with your arousal. He pulled away to raise a brow at you, daring you to contradict him.

Instead, you palmed him again, finding him harder than before. “I’m not the only one,” you shot back. With your eyes locked on his, you dropped to your knees to loosen his belt and unbutton his trousers. Then you leaned forward to slowly pull the zip down – with your teeth.

“Fuck me” he gasped around a ragged exhale, his hips automatically bucking toward you. He watched you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, before he hauled you to your feet with a hand on either arm. “Fucking dirty girl.”

“Wanna be your dirty girl, Javi,” you sighed, batting your lashes at him. You wanted him unraveled and unrestrained.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice, and you nodded, satisfied with the response you’d gotten from him. Before you realized what he was doing, he spun you around and hiked your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch around your waist.

“Hey, be careful. This dress is vintage.”

He just laughed against your ear. “You should’ve thought of that before you started this.” With one hand on your hip to hold you up, he kicked each of your ankles to prompt you to spread your legs before hooking a finger under the band of your thong and sliding them to the side. “Damn,” he growled when his fingers met your wet cunt. “I think you’re ready for me.”

“I was ready for you the moment I saw you tonight,” you answered truthfully.  

You felt his grin as he kissed the nape of your neck. He freed his cock and ran the tip through your folds. You knew better than to tell him not to tease you. That was part of it. That was what he enjoyed. He wanted you so strung out by the time he slipped inside you that you were already a mess and he knew just how to get you there. And that was exactly where you wanted to go.

He started to press inside you, slowly stretching you around him with each inch, and you delighted in the slight burn. Usually, he spent more time preparing you, but there was no time for that. Not when you were just hoping to finish fucking each other before someone came to collect their belongings.

You were wet and ready for him, but you were unable to stop the yelp that escaped you as he pushed in a little further.

“Quiet,” he snapped. Then, softly, he asked, “are you okay?”

You nodded. “It just takes a minute sometimes. You’re so big, Javi.” You felt him twitch inside you.

“You take me so well. This cunt was made for me.” Your ego burned bright at his praise and he slid in a bit more as you relaxed around him.

He held you, gently caressing you while you adjusted in what you assumed was a merciful act of patience. When you were ready, you rolled your hips to encourage him.

“Keep – shit – keep doing that. Feels so good on my dick.” You could imagine the debauched look on his face. You reveled in it even though you couldn’t see him. He reached around you to cup your pussy, fingers rubbing against your clit and following your movements as you circled your hips. You moaned in unison.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for you. Not for Javier.

“Hold on to something.”

His warning came just a moment too late. With a gasp, you fell forward clawing at the coats in front of you and fisting an expensive looking black peacoat in hopes of staying upright as he set a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck yes!” you whined.

“Are you even trying to stay quiet?” Javier hissed.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Fucking liar.” You heard the smirk.

The hand playing with your clit moved to your mouth and he slipped two fingers past your lips. It effectively muffled your noises of pleasure as he pulled you down hard on his cock with every thrust. The only sound was the wet noise of him sliding in and out of your slick cunt and the slap of your stocking-covered thighs as they bounced against his. You felt that delicious pressure deep in your belly, right between your thighs, building steadily.

Until you heard a noise just outside the door and the two of you froze.

Without pulling out of you, Javier held you to his chest. As if that would somehow help. You could feel his heart beating against your back just as your own threatened to break through your ribs. Two sets of wide eyes watched the doorknob, waiting for any sign that someone on the other side was about to turn it. You held your breath as you listened carefully to the low voices murmuring, unable to tell who they belonged to or what they were saying. It was like they were hovering just outside the door. Taunting you.

Just as you were about to suggest redressing and making a run for it, Javier started moving in and out of you as a torturously slow pace. Despite the voices nearby, a small whimper escaped you. He shushed you gently. “Quiet, baby,” he whispered.

“But–”

“You wanted this.”

“Javi­–”

“You wouldn’t have worn this” –he fingered the garter belt– “if you didn’t want to end up just like this.”

He was right, of course.

“What if–”

“I’m not going to let that happen.” You had no idea what he thought he was going to do if someone did catch the two of you, but he seemed confident enough for the both of you. Coupled with the easy rock of his hips, you relaxed into his hold. The truth was, as much as you liked the freedom of your home, you missed this. This thrill that you trusted only him to give you.

As soon as the conversation faded away, he resumed his previous pace, punching the air right out of your lungs.

“Yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chanted, forgetting the precarious situation you were in only moments ago. The coil in your belly tightened as you neared your crest, and you could tell by his less than precise movements that Javier just as close. And then, right as you were about to fall apart on his cock–

Javier pulled out and spun you back around in one swift movement. Before you even knew what was happening, he yanked down your panties and came all over you. Jaw dropping, you watched him work his length until every last drop was on you. White spurts of cum marked you and pooled in the black lace, already dripping down your thighs to the tops of your stockings. You placed a hand on either of his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs threatened to give out under you and stared down at the mess. Somehow, you were more turned on than before. You felt like you would actually combust from arousal. He held your panties in place for a moment, admiring his work, before letting the elastic snap against your skin and drawing your attention upward.

His breaths were jagged, stuttering and uneven. His head tilted back, and he looked down his nose at you with dark eyes that shone with something feral. Something sacrilegious. He was flushed and panting but a smirk tugged on his lips as he tucked his cock away and belted his pants. “You said you wanted to be my dirty girl.”

You swore you could feel your last brain cell short-circuiting. You were hyperaware of the errant drop sliding down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from him. “Always,” you promised quietly.

You kissed him with everything you had. Javier took it greedily.

“You’re so good for me. Letting me cum all over you,” he said breathlessly, still kissing you. “I want you to keep it all in your panties so that while you’re out there talking to those pretentious professors you can feel my cum between your legs. Okay?” You nodded and he graciously straightened your dress, letting it fall over your messy thighs. “You first.”

“But I didn’t–”

“Only good girls get to cum,” he replied quickly, apparently knowing exactly what you were going to say.

“Javi,” you scolded breathlessly and pointlessly, “I– I am your good girl.”

“Not tonight. You can’t keep quiet. Do you want everyone we work with to know I’m fucking you in this god damn coat closet?” You shook your head. “Don’t worry, honey, this was just foreplay. I’m not done with you yet. Tonight, I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard you’re screaming my name at the top of your lungs. I can’t do that here, but I can get you ready.”

Your head buzzed.

Some filthy part of you liked that he’d cum all over you. That he wanted to do that to you. You didn’t even need to cum because it’d felt that good. And you knew by the look in his eyes that he planned on making up for leaving you wanting, for making a mess of you. You instinctively understood that this was part of it. That even greater pleasure waited for you if you could just be patient and... and trust him. And you did trust him. You knew he would take care of you.  

If this was going to be your last night together for weeks — after hardly spending a night apart the last month and a half — then this was just the start.

“Okay,” you agreed. “But you’re a fucking tease, Javier Peña.”

He laughed with genuine mirth in his eyes. “You started it.”

“I’ll finish it,” you promised.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

You hesitated, teasing your bottom lip with your teeth. “Do we really have to go back out there?”

“It would be rude to leave so early.” You knew he didn’t care about staying. He was just tormenting you, playing a fucked-up game that had your head spinning like crazy. “But don’t worry. Eventually, I’ll take you home and fill you up. Just the way you like it. Now be a good girl” he said with a swat on your ass, “and go out first.”

Feeling defiant, you turned around and planted a kiss on his neck, purposefully leaving a smudge of red lipstick on his crisp white collar.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Maybe I do want everyone to know your mine.”

He wiped away the lipstick he smeared when he stuck his fingers in your mouth with the pad of his thumb. “You know. That’s all I care about.”

… . …

The two of you didn’t make it another hour. Fifty-two minutes to be exact. Javier knew because he kept checking his watch only to decide that time had crept to a halt. He wanted nothing more than to take you home and finish what he’d started. Every time he glanced at you across the room, he found you squirming as you tried to keep a straight face while chatting with some colleague, and he had to look away and recompose himself.

It hadn’t been his intention to leave you wet and wanting and covered in his cum. It’d just happened in the heat of the moment. Some wild idea that he’d decided to act on. But you… you’d liked it. And so did Javier.

In reality, fifty-two minutes wasn’t that long, but it was enough time to suck up to the school’s dean. If Javier was going to be put on display as his prized lecturer for the year, he’d make him listen to him in return. Even if he had to turn up the fake charm to a ten in front of a group of wealthy alumni.

“Here she is now,” Javier said, taking a hold of your elbow as you passed by, physically dragging you into the conversation. You shot him a confused look, but he just smiled at the dean.

“Ah, yes, professor,” Dean Dalton started, “It would seem you’ve made quite the impression on Agent Peña.”

Javier elected to ignore his choice of title.

“Really? I wasn’t aware.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he could tell you were happy.

“I’ve had the privilege of reading a few chapters of her upcoming book,” Javier explained. “Trust me, you’ll want to see what she’s planning next.”

“As luck would have it, I’ve been talking to a few of our more generous donors tonight. Perhaps we should meet when classes resume to discuss how the school might be able to help your research.” The dean clinked his glass against yours and ambled off.

“What did you just do?” you asked, disbelief lacing your voice.

“I told you I would help you.”

“Oh my God… thank you,” you said softly. You stared at him for a long moment and he just held your gaze. “Will you take you home now?”

“Yes.”

Without wasting another second, you turned on your heel and headed toward the entrance. He followed eagerly. “Wait.” You stopped suddenly and his chest hit your back. You peered at him over your shoulder. “Don’t forget our tradition.”

He quirked a brow in silent question and your eyes flicked to the bar in response. It clicked. “Got it,” he said with a grin. He swiped the first bottle of champagne he could reach. Something so expensive he couldn’t even imagine the price tag. Something neither of you could ever afford on an academic salary.

… . …

Javier drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your knee, drawing circles on your thigh over the sheer material covering your skin. Late on a chilly December night, the streets were empty, and the drive was easy. The city was unusually peaceful.

“I still can’t believe you pulled that off,” you murmured dreamily. He squeezed your knee in response.

A few minutes later, he’d stopped at a light when you quietly said his name. He turned to you and found you staring at him. You looked relaxed and happy. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how handsome you look tonight. All dressed up for me,” you offered sweetly. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

“How much did you have to drink?” he deflected.

“One drink hours ago. Nice try, but I’m sober.” You laughed but your teasing tone gave way to something softer. “You really are the most beautiful man.”

In his periphery, the light changed, bathed the inside of the car in a bright green light. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your beautiful face. Not when such an open, vulnerable sincerity graced your features.

“The light’s green,” you whispered.

“I know.”

A small smile broke out on your face.

… . …

Behind you, Javier trailed soft, lazy kisses along the slope of your neck as he slowly unzipped your dress, letting it hang loose around you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he smoothed his hands down your exposed back, thumbs gently digging into your flesh to massage your tired muscles. Every kiss, every touch, stoked the fire he’d ignited inside you hours ago.

“Let it fall,” he murmured against your skin. You slipped the straps over your shoulders and the fabric pooled at your feet. Then you reached for the clasp of your bra. “Leave it. I’ll take it off when I want to.” You bit back a devilish smile as he continued his ministrations. His lips followed his hands down your spine, and you gasped when he placed a kiss on the small of your back.

“Can’t decide how I want you first,” he mused.

“I want your mouth on me.”

He kneaded the flesh of your ass as he placed the lightest kiss on one cheek. “It is.”

“Not there.”

At your complaint, he snapped the garter belt strap so it stung against your flesh. But a firm hand on your back urged you forward until you were kneeling on the bed and he mouthed your cunt through the lace. “Here?” he asked, voice muffled.

“Yes,” you moaned, desperate for more.

“Maybe I should clean the mess I made on your pussy.” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the fabric away and sealed his mouth over your hot, wet core, drawing an inarticulate slew of curses from you.

Hands gripping the backs of your thighs right at the tops of your stockings, he alternated between sucking on your clit, teasing the little bundle of nerves between his lips, and fucking you with his tongue. The constantly changing pressure was as intoxicating as it was frustrating — it was never enough but plenty to keep you hovering right on the cusp.

Until he finally – finally – gave you what you needed most.

Holding a steady pace as he flicked his tongue over your clit, Javier pushed you right over the edge.

Unable to breath, unable to move, unable to even think, you sobbed, cunt still pulsing around nothing, when he unceremoniously flipped you over and entered you. He slid into your dripping heat easily. And somehow, your first orgasm rolled right into the second as his cock struck something magic inside you, sparking a whole new wave of pleasure.

“You can’t stop coming, can you?” he asked, grunting as he pounded into you.

It just kept going. And going. Wave after wave relentlessly rolling through you. Unceasing in the best way imaginable. Javier knew your body so fucking well. He was the only one who knew how to do this to you. “No,” you mewled deliriously, body still shaking under him.

He thumbed away a tear rolling down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. His hand left your face to knead a lace covered breast. “You look so fucking hot.”

“Fuck me harder, Javi.”

He pulled out all the way and your hips lifted, chasing him, but he pushed your knees to your chest and shouldered between your legs. “You’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

“Good. I wanna feel you for days.” you said, ignoring the pang in your heart that told you that you were going to miss him.

“Fuck,” he spat. Your cunt drenched his cock as he slipped back inside, and your breath hitched as he hit deeper at the new angle.

“Right there!” you cried, arching up against him, “oh, God, right there!”

“One more. Give me one more,” Javier demanded, lacing your fingers together and pining your hands above your head, “But not until I tell you.”

You nodded eagerly, happy to give him whatever he wanted. “I get to tell you when too. Please, Javi.”

“Whatever you want baby. You fucking earned it.”

He kept slamming into you and every stroke of his cock rubbed against your inner walls perfectly. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and every vein of his thick length as he fucked you. Your third orgasm was tantalizingly within reach. You just needed his blessing, and you’d break.

“Alright, baby,” he panted as he rocked his hips against yours, grinding his pelvis against your clit, “cum all over my cock.”

Just like that, that tight coil inside you he’d been winding up all night snapped, and you came for a third time with a wanton cry. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as your body writhed beneath him, cunt spasming around his cock.

“I need to cum,” he ground out, voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

“Ask me nicely,” you teased when your senses had returned to you just enough that you decided it was your turn to play with Javier. You wanted it to be just as good for him as he made it for you.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Baby, please.” Javier’s broken words trembling around the edges as he begged you. His brown eyes, eclipsed by his dilated pupils and wet around the edges, stared deeply into yours and you almost gave in.

“Don’t stop.”

He made a desperate sound but kept going, snapping his hips against yours harder and harder.

“Almost there, Javi. You’re doing so good for me,” you praised, encouraging him. His jaw clenched and you kissed his neck, sucking hard on the straining muscles. His hands gripped yours so tight it hurt, and his face screwed up as he panted with each thrust. “You can cum for me, Javi. Fill me up.”

His lips crashed against yours in a desperate gratitude, and his hips stuttered as he came hard. He gasped for breath even as your mouths moved messily together. His cock twitched inside you as he painted your cunt like you’d been patiently waiting for all evening, until his body gave out and he collapsed on top of you, still locked in an embrace.

“Was that good for you?” you asked. When you didn’t get an answer, you prodded his side. He startled, eyes suddenly blinking up at you.

“What?”

“I asked if that was good for you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that was... it’s always good with you but that was...” He trailed off and you thought he might’ve actually fallen asleep on you. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life. I think I fucking blacked out.”

“I didn’t know my pussy was that good.”

“Are you kidding me? I fucking love your pussy.” He was positively beaming at you. He cursed with a sigh as he laid his head back on your chest and you threaded your fingers through his damp locks, holding him close while you could.

… . …

You sat half in Javier’s lap in the middle of your bed, sheets strewn about from your previous activities, both completely naked but freshly showered. He moved his mouth against yours, tasting you, drinking you in until he was as lightheaded from your kisses as from the champagne. His hands roamed your body, touching you for no real reason other than to memorize your gentle curves. One hand cupped a breast and the other squeezed your hip, both moving slowly until they met to cradle your face.

He pulled away to look at you. No fancy dress, no jewelry, no make-up. Just you.

“Still stunning,” he whispered.

You smiled softly and pressed your lips to the bridge of his nose. “Still handsome,” you countered. Chills erupted across his skin, but you mistook his reaction. “Come here.” you pulled the blankets up as you settled back against the headboard. He followed, swiping the bottle of champagne off the nightstand. Without bothering with glasses, surely a disservice to something so expensive, he took a swig and handed it to you. It was bubbly and light and perfect for the evening.

“You never told me what you’re doing for the holidays.”

“Oh, nothing much,” you responded as you took the bottle from him. “Bev’s family celebrates Christmas. They always do gifts with the kids in the morning but then her mom and in-laws and whoever else in the family is around go over for a big dinner. She insists I come to keep her sane. Her mom and mother-in-law don’t exactly get along.”

“What about New Year’s?”

You took a long pull before sighing. “Well, I usually spend the night with Sunny watching old movies and drinking too much wine.” Your face pinched. “That sounds much sadder when I say it out loud.”

“You don’t mind being alone?”

“It’s been this way for years now.” You smiled, a rueful thing. “I’m used to it. I’m usually so tired after the quarter ends that I don’t mind the time alone.” You tried to brush it off, but he could hear the sadness in your voice.

“You could–” Javier stopped himself. “You could call. Anytime. I’ll give you my dad’s home number so you can reach me.”

That time your smile reached your eyes, crinkling the corners as you looked away bashfully. “That’s really sweet of you.” You reached for his hand and added, “I’ll call you at midnight in Laredo.”

“We’ll talk until midnight in Los Angeles.”

You curled up next to him before Javier could decipher your expression.

When he felt your breathing even out, surely sated from the sex and exhausted after the quarter, he pried the bottle from your grasp. He finished the last bit before setting it aside and switching off the lamp, careful not to disturb you.

Javier held you close, not unlike the way you’d held him the night before. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He didn’t want you to see that part of him. He needed to protect you from his past. But he didn’t know how to do that when he couldn’t even protect himself.

He flicked off the light and hoped for a peaceful sleep.

… . …

The first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning was the dark bruise that you’d sucked onto Javier’s neck the night before. You ran your fingertips over it, outwardly cringing but inwardly, well, preening. This time it had been you who left those little love bites on his neck.

“Did you mark me?” he asked, his voice barely more than a quiet rumble. “Fucking felt that last night.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you answered, looking up at him as innocently as possible.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grumbled as his eyes blinked open. “You were a woman determined last night.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I liked it,” he grinned, but it faded quickly. “I forgot I was going home today. My dad’s picking me up at the airport.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed, burying your face against his chest.

“Don’t laugh. That’s not funny.”

“Maybe you should try buttoning your shirt like a normal person for once.”

In one smooth movement, he flipped you over and caged you beneath him. “You’re pushing your luck,” he tried to warn, but the grin on his face and the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

“What time is your flight?” you asked, soothing a hand across his face.

“One.” He glanced over at the clock. “It’s ten now.”

You wondered, just for a moment, if he would stay with you if you asked him to. If he would pass the holidays with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that was foolish. And more than a little selfish. He had his family to go home to.

“You should probably go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I should.”

He eased his hold on you but made no move to leave. Not until he’d placed a kiss on your lips and one on your forehead in a gentle goodbye.

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 💗

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses

Curriculum Vitae Tags: @softpedropascal @roxypeanut @unstoppableforcce @technicallykawaiisoul @mrsparknuts @weirdowithnobeardo @seeking-a-great--perhaps @assultsofthought @arrowswithwifi @larakasser @romewritingshop @none-of-your-bullshit @the-bird-suit @magneticbucky @bbygrgu @luminarahan @buckstaposition @grapemama @emzd34 @itsilvermorny​

Javier: @wander-lustbabe​

Tag lists are always open. 

[siriuslystarbucks]

Every ‘I Love You’

Written for Starbuck Ship Week run by @prongsfoot-discord Day 1: Time Loops. I’ve never done a time loop fic before lol

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Tags: AU: No Voldemort, Love Confessions, Time Loop, Angst, Confusion, First Kiss, Communication, Getting Together

Summary: One night, James tells Sirius that he loves him. He does it again the next night. And the next and the next, and Sirius doesn't know how long he's been living this day, but he would like it to stop, thanks, because he still doesn't know what to reply. 

Read below or on AO3

James woke him up that morning. Not by shaking him awake-- which was something he'd done plenty of times because he claimed that having to be the only one up was a horrible fate-- but by whistling. He was in an overly cheerful mood this morning, and he was whistling tunelessly as he walked about the room, getting ready.

Sirius pulled his curtains open but didn't otherwise try to rouse himself. He was perfectly comfortable where he was.

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at James.

It hit him harmlessly in the side. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again-- louder, this time, to prove a point about how untouchable his happiness was-- and he walked over to Moony's bed, then started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he said, practically singing the words.

Sirius grinned, too tired to join in on the teasing but enjoying it all the same.

James looked over at him, as if sensing that he was watching, and his smile widened. He winked, whacked Moony one more time, then dropped it at the side of his bed to continue getting ready.

"Ready for another thrilling day of classes?" James asked him as he got closer.

"As thrilling as they ever are," Sirius responded around a yawn. Not one of his best replies, but James was smiling at him like it was award-winning.

Classes were as boring as advertised, and that night, they were down in the common room, tucked away on a couch together, doing their homework.

"I love you," James said. He looked at Sirius with hearts in his eyes. He was so sincere that it made Sirius's chest hurt.

"I-" Merlin, what was he going to say? "I'm sorry," he said by rote. It's what he said to the people that confessed their feelings to him. Half the time he didn't even recognise them, so it wasn't hard to let them down easy. Even for the people he knew, it wasn't that difficult to tell them that he was sorry, but he didn't feel the same. Looking at James was completely different. James meant something to him; James meant the world to him, and as soon as he said the word 'sorry', James looked crushed.

"Oh. I- no I'm the one that's sorry. I thought... I mean, I thought that you were- well, I was wrong. Doesn't matter." He turned back to his book. His shoulders hunched up towards his shoulders as his face burned red.

Normally, when he was upset, Sirius would try to make him feel better. Since he was the cause this time, he thought it would be for the best that he didn't try to comfort him.

After a minute of awkward silence, James muttered, "I'm calling it an early night."

"Goodnight," Sirius mumbled, just as quietly.

He shuffled away and up the stairs to the dormitory, looking defeated.

Sirius felt like scum. He well and truly did. He didn't know what he could've said to James that would've been better, but he did feel bad about it. By the time he went up to the dormitory-- after giving it plenty of time-- James's curtains were drawn, and he seemed to be asleep.

The next morning, Sirius knew that the air would be fragile. He pulled his own curtains open first thing, but he took plenty of time getting ready. He didn't want for James to think that he'd rushed to get away from seeing him or summat.

When James woke, he seemed... cheerful. He was even whistling tunelessly to himself, just like he'd done yesterday. Sirius only remembered that he'd been whistling yesterday because it had annoyed Moony so much that he'd-

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

It hit James harmlessly in the side. Just like it had yesterday. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again as he walked over to Moony's bed and started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he sang.

This was just like yesterday. Sirius frowned as a feeling of dread crawled over him. It was like yesterday had never happened.

James looked over to Sirius with a grin, but it faded after a few seconds.

Okay, so he'd just been being paranoid. James remembered what happened yesterday. He'd just been trying to pretend like everything was still normal. Sirius sent him a weak smile.

"Are you alright?" James asked, walking over in concern.

"Yeah. I just didn't want to make things awkward for you. After last night."

The concern was replaced with confusion. "What do you mean, last night?"

"When we... y'know, talked. In the common room."

"We weren't in the common room last night. We went for a run in the Forbidden Forest, remember? Went straight up to bed when we got back." James wasn't messing with him. His expression was one hundred percent serious. He wasn't joking around or playing a weird prank. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Sirius said automatically. What he 'remembered' from yesterday must've been a dream. A horrendously vivid dream, but a dream all the same. "A little tired, I guess."

...But if it had been a dream, then why had Prongs and Moony's interaction been the exact same this morning?

*

"I love you," James said.

"Why?" Sirius asked. He was curious. He honestly couldn't wrap his head around it. The first time James said it, he'd been blindsided. It still didn't sit right with him. There was a twist in his stomach when James said it. Three little words, and he was taken entirely out of himself. James said 'I love you' and Sirius had no confidence, not for himself, not for James, and absolutely none for their relationship. He was second guessing all of it, and without James being able to remember it when a new day dawned, he couldn't move past it. He'd gotten used to James listening and giving him advice.

James smiled faintly at him when he asked. "It's not any one thing."

"No, but... why me? Surely there's someone else out there that you'd rather be with."

"I can't imagine being in love with someone else," James said, which made the knot in Sirius's stomach squeeze tighter. "Isn't it what everyone wants? To be with their best mate?"

"I don't think so," Sirius said honestly. It sounded... very James, but not like anyone else. He couldn't imagine Moony or Wormtail wanting to date their best friend.

*

“I love you,” James said, looking over at Sirius earnestly. It was the first time he’d ever said it. At least, as far James was concerned, that was true.

Sirius had been living this day over and over. Each Tuesday night, no matter what he did in the day, James would confess to him. He’d done this at least ten times already, and he still didn’t know what to say in response.

James’s expression fell a little at his extended silence. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like for me to say?” He wasn't careful with his tone. It didn't have any of the fondness that he felt for James. He said it flatly, like he didn't care about James in the slightest.

Sometimes, James got sad. Right now, he got angry. His expression hardened. "Fine. Be like that. You could've told me flat out that you didn't feel the same." He slammed his textbook shut and grabbed his bag. It looked like he was juggling all his items as he stormed out of the library.

Sirius sighed, putting his elbow on the table and leaning into his hand. He'd chosen the library this time with the specific hope that James wouldn't want to say anything when they were so far away from Gryffindor Tower and didn't have an easy way out.

He went to bed that night, keeping his head down and feeling guilty.

He knew that in the morning, James would be whistling like nothing happened, and he'd have to sit through the same exact lectures again. They'd been boring the first time he heard them. One repetition had been annoying, but he was convinced he was going to claw his eyes out before he managed to get out of this.

*

"It's a time loop," Sirius said. He didn't like going to Professor Dumbledore, but he was desperate. He'd skivved classes and spent all day in the library. He'd spent several days in the library. Over a week, possibly; it's not like he was keeping count, but it occurred to him too late that maybe he should've been trying to keep track. He'd been through every book about time travel, time loops, and time related curses. There was nothing useful. He had a better chance of getting answers by talking to Dumbledore than he did sneaking out and trying to find more books elsewhere.

"Curious," Dumbledore said. His brow had furrowed slightly, and he was looking at Sirius intently instead of with his usual casualness. "I know that you dabble in a certain amount of- ahem, experimental and high level magicks. Is there anything you've done that might have triggered this? The smallest footnote in an old ritual can have side effects."

Sirius shook his head without needing to think about it. After reliving the day for the third time, he had considered that option. Unfortunately, things had been quiet on the Marauders side of things. They hadn't done anything in the week-- or even month-- leading up to this stupid Tuesday that they hadn't done a dozen times before. "I'm sure that it's nothing I've done. I haven't done anything new leading up to this for weeks."

"It's... possible that someone else is reliving this day, and you were caught up in it."

He shook his head again. "Everyone else is the same. They only change if I do." He'd checked once, just to be sure. Of course, he couldn't remember everything he'd done the first day, but he'd tried his best, and it had been enough for him to be convinced that he was the only one that knew they were doing this more than once.

"I imagine you'll have to analyze your day then, Mister Black."

Sirius grimaced. He knew that it was his last name, but he hated being called that.

"Whatever the answer is, I think it'll come from your own actions. Not a spell or ritual."

"But this is a magical problem."

"Humans possess a kind of magic all unto themselves. Something that has nothing to do with wands or potions. We have the power to change, at will and deliberately."

Sirius blinked. He hadn't wanted to have a counseling session, he'd wanted a fix to this.

"I believe that when you find the change you need, the loop will be broken."

"Seriously? That's it?" Sirius asked, not bothering to be nice. It's nice like the Headmaster would remember this in the morning, after all. "That's your great advice? Change myself?"

"A simple answer, but not an easy one," he said, apparently unbothered.

*

"I love you," James said.

"So what? You're a sodding teenager. You'll fall out of love in a month."

James looked at him like he didn't recognise him. "Are you joking right now? Because if you are, it's not funny."

"And if I'm not?" Sirius asked, looking at him challengingly.

James didn't answer for a moment. He just looked at Sirius as sadness creeped into his features. "I don't know what I did to make you care so little about me."

"I-" Sirius startled, taken aback. "Of course I care."

"You're not acting like it. I don't want for you to lie. I'm not asking for you to claim that you return my feelings when you don't, but I expect for you to act like my friend, to act like the person I fell in love with." James paused, considering as a thought occurred to him. "Are you feeling alright? You've been acting off all day. I thought you already suspected how I felt, so I thought it would be best to come out with it, but I was wrong, wasn't I?"

It was kind. As kind as James always was to him, even when he didn't deserve it. If Sirius thought that he would wake up tomorrow to a new day instead of the same day, yet again, then he would latch onto this. He would tell James that he was sorry, but yes, that's what it was; he wasn't feeling well and he'd been on edge all day.

But this wasn't anything new, and they would do some horrid exchange tomorrow like nothing had changed-- because as far as James was concerned, there was absolutely nothing that had.

"I don't know what you want me to say, James," Sirius said, exhausted. If James would just tell him what he wanted to hear, then he could do that next time and hopefully it would break the loop. It was, after all, the only big event in this day. "Tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."

"I don't know either," James replied, but Sirius could tell it was a lie. He was heartbroken though, and it was Sirius's fault, so he didn't push.

He could work on it the next morning.

*

"Let's play hooky today," Sirius said, one hand on James's arm and trying to smile like he didn't have a care in the world.

James grinned back freely. "Sure."

It was nice to finally have a break from classes, but Sirius finally let himself relax around James again. Ever since that first 'I love you', Sirius had been tied up in knots worrying about it. He didn't want to hurt James's feelings, but by trying to push him away, all he'd done was make himself miserable.

They had fun that day. Sirius pressed a kiss to James's mouth before they tried to sneak back in.

"Sirius," James whispered, when they were still standing so close together they could feel the other's warmth. "If we're doing this-"

"I don't know if we are," Sirius said. He kept his tone gentle, but there was no denying the panic that shot through him. "You're my best mate, but I don't..." He didn't know if he wanted to date James. If he was willing to take the chance.

James swallowed thickly. "Right. You can think about it. I've got time."

James might not know it, but right now, they had nothing but time.

They got caught sneaking back in and got detention for a week for going off the grounds and skipping their classes. It didn't matter. The only one who would remember in the morning, was Sirius.

*

Sirius had done this enough times that he knew the look James got before confessing. Before James had a chance to say it this time, Sirius asked, "Do you ever get scared that you'll ruin something?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like us. Our friendship."

A beat. "I do. Sometimes. I think any risk would be worth it, in the end."

"Even if you don't get the answer you want?"

James frowned. "What're you getting at?"

Sirius didn't look up at him. He looked at his own hands, twirling a quill between his fingers absently. "I know how you feel about me."

Silence.

He still didn't look up at him. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his reaction. "And it terrifies me. The way you look at me sometimes... it's like I could bugger up everything under the sun and you'd still love me."

"That would be true even if we were mates and that's where my feelings stopped," James said quietly.

"And that doesn't scare you?"

"You feel the same for me."

That was- sod it, that was the truth. Sirius was beyond confused for how he felt for James ever since this time loop had started, but he cared about him. He loved him. He would do anything and everything for James if only he knew how. "I do," he admitted. "And it's terrifying."

"What about it scares you?"

"I don't know. I've never felt like this for anyone else. I feel like it could destroy both of us, and there would be nothing left."

"Rather bold of you to assume that we'd let that happen," James said. "What makes you think either of us would be willing to lose our friendship?"

"Fair enough," Sirius said, finally looking up so he could give James a smile.

James looked subdued, but he smiled back. 'How much you love me scares me' wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. Sirius knew that, even if he didn't know what James had actually wanted. Probably 'I love you too', but despite the countless times he'd confessed, Sirius had never been able to get him to admit that that's what he wanted to hear.

It's part of what confused him, and a big part of why it terrified him. To anyone else, what Sirius said just now would've been crushing. James looked a little sad and disappointed, but not heartbroken. 

He wished that he could keep this time. No recrimination, no hard feelings. James knew that Sirius knew how he felt, and he also knew that Sirius was beyond confused about his own feelings.

He sighed and went back to copying down the passage from the textbook. It wouldn't last till morning, but it gave him something to do while he kept James company.

Sirius woke up the next day, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get through this. He didn't know how to look James in the eye like everything was fine when he was so utterly lost.

He pushed his curtains open and rolled to his feet. He was so out of it that he didn't notice things were different until he ran into James in the loo. He frowned.

This wasn't right.

James was supposed to be happily whistling to himself and annoying Remus, not standing morosely in front of the mirror as he tiredly brushed his teeth. "Morning," James mumbled.

Sirius blinked.

"You okay?"

"Are you? I thought you'd be in a better mood."

James's brow creased. "Did we have a different conversation last night than the one I remember?"

Last night. Oh Merlin, he remembered. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday? You know, the day that comes after Tuesday?"

The relief Sirius felt was instantaneous. He didn't think about it, just wrapped his arms around James and rested his head against his shoulder. "Thank Merlin."

"Are you still asleep or summat?"

"More like I just woke up from a nightmare," Sirius muttered. A beat. "I don't know how you even know what love is. How do you know liking me a friend was different than fancying me?"

"I don't know," James said, which wasn't the most encouraging thing Sirius had ever heard. "I thought about it, and it seemed like it fit. Don't look at me like I have all the answers, Padfoot. I'm guessing most of the time, too."

"You always seemed so sure," Sirius said without really thinking about it. James had told him that he loved him a hundred different times, and not once had Sirius thought that he wasn't one hundred percent certain about it.

"What?"

Sirius shook his head.

That night, he asked James if he could kiss him instead of going for it without warning, and James said yes.

"So," James said, clearing his throat, "do I get an Acceptable?"

"Don't be stupid. You get an Outstanding."

"Even though you're not sure how you feel?" James asked.

"I know how I feel, I just... don't know if I'd call it in love or not. It might be more like halfway between in love and just loving you. How should I know?"

James only chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, it's good enough for me. If you're wanting to give this a try, that is."

"I am." He'd spent so many days trying to avoid James's confession, and all he'd needed to do was think about how he felt, not worry about what James wanted to hear him say. 

[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.

[avidreider]

Journals Part 1 ~ flatline (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Journals Series 

Based on the song, “Flatline” by Justin Bieber. 

Summary: Spencer is physically and emotionally distant and Reader decides that she won’t tolerate it anymore.

Pairing: (Pre-Prison) Spencer Reid x Reader. 

CW: angst, cursing. 

Key: Y/N = your name, italicized = unspoken thoughts, bold = texts/emails/notes, bold + italicized = song lyrics. 

-- I do not own rights to the gif nor the song. -- 

When you and Spencer first started dating, you couldn’t have been happier if you tried. He was always so attentive and caring and all of your previous relationship trauma and insecurities melted away. He had been rather transparent about the fact that he came with a past of traumatic experiences of his own, but he refused to weigh you down with the details of all that baggage. His friends vaguely explained that he suffered from addiction and lost a past girlfriend at the hands of an unsub. However, you never discussed any of this with Spencer. Regardless, you assured him that you would stand by him no matter what. 

Your relationship progressed somewhat quickly, but it was because the feelings you had for each other ran so deep. You didn’t get to spend much time with him - you were a medical resident and the nature of Spencer’s job significantly limited your time together. You dedicated large chunks of time to your own job, though, so you never complained about how much time he spent with the BAU. 

You did begin to complain, however, when he would leave in the middle of the night for ‘work,’ but then you’d get a call from Penelope or Emily asking you two what you were up to on an evening off. The first time it happened, you assumed that he just needed a break after a long case. But the second, third, and fourth time you became quite insecure. And this night, the fifth time, you felt the anger before anything else. 

“Sorry, baby, but I have to head into work. They need me,” Spencer had said to you, as he walked into the bathroom to get ready. You were immediately suspicious, so you called Emily to confirm your suspicions. 

“Hello? You okay, Y/N?” she said when she answered on the second ring. 

“Yes, Em, I’m fine! How are you?”

“I’m okay. I think Morgan, Garcia, and I are gonna go out for some drinks if you and Reid would like to come!” 

You felt your eyebrows shoot up, even though you weren’t necessarily surprised. “I’ll discuss it with him. Thanks for the invite!” and with that, you hung up. 

“So Spence, what’s the case that has you rushing off at 11pm?”

“Oh, we won’t know until we get there,” he responded. 

“That’s so unfair that they’re making you work, especially when half the team is out clubbing,” you spat, daring him to deny the truth that you already knew. 

When he said nothing, you inquired, “This isn’t the first time that you have said you had to go work when you didn’t. So what is going on? Did you fall off the wagon? Is there another woman? Did you lose the feelings you had for me?”

“No, Y/N, God -- how can you think that I’ve been doing drugs?”

“That wasn’t the only thing that I asked you, Spence.” 

“I have been going into the office to help JJ with the backlog of paperwork that she has to deal with. I also go there just to clear my head. I don’t want to just sit around here with you when I can’t focus on you. I don’t want to bring my work or other problems home with me -- I want to keep this apartment a happy place.” 

“Oh Spence, it’s our apartment. Of course it’s a happy place. I don’t want you to feel like you have to face your demons alone. If there is anything you want to talk about, I am here for you. I love you, babe, and your problems are my problems,” you assured, as your rubbed soothing circles onto his back. 

He hugged you back, and a few moments passed before he spoke again. “I don’t want my problems to end up being your problems, Y/N. You are so incredible, and-and I’m sorry, don’t take this the wrong way, but I just need some space.” 

Your mouth was wide with shock. Space? How could you take that in the ‘right’ way? How could he ask you for space when you only spent a few short hours with him in the span of a week? Your residency takes up between 40-80 of those hours, and his job usually takes up more than that. You also make a conscious effort to spend time with his friends and your friends, as well as designate time for yourselves. You practice self-care or go to the gym, while he sits at his desk and reads, or writes letters to his mother. When you do spend time together, you rarely argue. You snuggle as he reads to you, or talks about his cases (and you talk about your day at the hospital), you watch your favorite television shows, or you’re asleep. You thought that you had the perfect relationship. But apparently Spencer didn’t agree. 

“I’m just gonna go out and get drinks with Emily, Derek, and Penelope. You can come if you want, but otherwise, just enjoy your ‘space,’“ you said, with a snarky emphasis on the last word. And with that, you got dressed and walked out the door. 

You stumble back into your apartment early the next morning, and end up passing out on the couch. When you wake up, Spencer is sitting in the chair next to you with almost a guilty look on his face. “Good morning,” he said once he saw your eyes open. 

“Good morning,” you mumble. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I’ve agreed to be a volunteer teacher at a local high school. They’re incredibly short-staffed, and they want me to step in when I can for physics, biology, and psychology. I-I also agreed to be a mentor for the school’s chess club,” he said. 

“Okay, Spence. That sounds like a great opportunity,” you replied with feigned optimism. Great. Even less time I get to spend with him. But whatever. If he needs this much space from me, I’ll give it to him. 

The next couple weeks passed slowly; Spencer was only home early in the mornings (while you had to get ready for your shift at the hospital), and late at night (when you were already asleep). You loved that he was so passionate about his job, but you were beginning to feel resentful that he chose to take on all these other commitments when it was clear he was neglecting your relationship. 

Lately you've been busy, Wonderin' if you miss me, Why did you go against me? I just wanna know... How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen, All the love I'm givin', don't act like you don't know...  

You hadn’t been intimate in nearly 3 weeks; the last time being a few days before you went out for drinks with Emily, and you hadn’t felt like he truly loved you since even before that night. And quite frankly, those feelings were justified because he hadn’t said it since then, either. He still called you periodically, and texted you when calling you wasn’t an option, but those conversations were incredibly dry and only made you feel worse. In a desperate attempt to try to feel connected to Spencer, you logged onto his laptop on his desk and, if you were being honest with yourself, started snooping. You found that he had been emailing a teacher at the high school that he volunteers at. You wanted so badly to trust him, but the feeling your gut told you to read them.

To: Ms. Everett

From: Spencer Reid 

Re: Biology 

Ms. Everett 

Thank you so much for letting me lead the lecture on genetics. You sure know your stuff! Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t believe that you teach high school! You are a brilliant woman, I can’t believe you aren’t out there finding the cure for cancer or something. If there is anything else that I can do for you or your class, please don’t hesitate to email or call me! 

With Regards, 

Spencer Reid

Call him? Does that mean she already has his phone number? I don’t think that Spencer has ever called me brilliant before, either. She’s so brilliant, but his girlfriend who is actually a doctor isn’t?

You knew that your thoughts were relatively petty, but you didn’t care. Your feelings were hurt. You kept reading anyway. 

To: Spencer Reid 

From: Ms. Everett 

Re: Biology 

Dr. Reid, 

Oh please, call me Lila! And I thoroughly enjoyed your lecture! You are one captivating man! And thank you, but you don’t have to stroke my ego! I considered medical school as well as graduate research positions but my true calling is teaching children! Maybe one day I can teach your sweet Godson! I will give you a call! If you don’t have any plans this weekend, perhaps we can grab a coffee? 

Love, Lila 

LOVE? Is that a stab at me? I took the ‘easy way out’ by going to medical school? Who is this bitch?

To: Ms. Everett

From: Spencer Reid 

Oh, you don’t have to use my honorific! Spencer or Spence is fine. And that is incredible. I love teaching children as well, obviously. I have a feeling Henry would love you! And yes, coffee would be great. 

Spencer

Hmm. Is it considered cheating to get a coffee with some strange woman who you flirt with virtually (and do not tell your live-in girlfriend about)? Something is telling me ‘yes.’  Also, he’s letting her call him “Spence”?

You read a few more of his emails along those same lines, until you felt sick. After the nausea passed, the rage came. You pulled out your phone to send Spencer a text message. 

At first, you just wanted to see if he’d lie. 

You sent a text that said: Hey babe! How’s work going? If you don’t have a case this weekend I’d like to go out on a date or something. I miss you! 

Hi baby. I might have plans, it depends on the day... he responded. 

What plans? You asked innocently. 

Just professional plans. That’s kinda vague, Spence. 

Coffee plans, with super brilliant people? 

Yeah, boring stuff. But I’m sure that you and I can still do something. 

The rage began to build as you realized that he was actively keeping Lila a secret from you. 

Oh SPENCE. When were you going to tell me that you want space from me just so you can spend more time with some slutty biology teacher?! 

Your phone buzzed almost immediately. 

What are you talking about?

Don’t play dumb with me Spencer. “You’re a brilliant woman”?! Are you kidding me? How long were you planning on keeping Lila a secret from me?

This time the buzzing was more persistent. He was calling you. 

“What, Spencer?”

“How do you know about Lila? Did you go through my computer?” 

You let out a frustrated sigh, “Yeah, obviously. And I don’t regret it, because apparently you were never gonna tell me about her. Which isn’t even surprising, you don’t talk to me at all anymore. But if you were gonna cheat on me, maybe you should’ve just broke up with me instead!” 

“She’s just a friend, Y/N, and I never cheated on you! I never would. I-” but he didn’t get to finish, because you hung up. You have been so close to your breaking point these past couple weeks, and Lila was that little push it took to send you over the edge. You packed as many clothes your suitcase could fit and took off to your best friend’s house. She would let you stay, no questions asked. And that was a good thing, because you didn’t wanna talk about it just yet. She let you in her home with open arms, prepared to be that beacon of emotional support you’d been lacking from Spencer. 

---Spencer’s POV---

COME ON, Y/N, ANSWER THE PHONE! Ugh, why did you have to go through my computer? Are you that insecure?

The phone kept ringing, but to no surprise, she didn’t answer. 

I’ll call Derek. Everyone knows he’s had his fair share of relationship issues. 

“Hey pretty boy, what’s up?” He answered. 

“Derek, Y/N won’t answer her phone.” 

“Why? What did you do?”

“Why do you assume that it was me who did something wrong?”

He just laughed. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Pretty boy, for a genius you can be so dumb sometimes. I assume that it was you who made a mistake for two reasons. For one, you called me for what I can only assume is advice on how to fix it. And for two, you’re the man. It’s usually the men who mess up in relationships. So what’s going on?”

He had me there. “Okay so for the past couple weeks things between us have been... off. I’m not sure what I was feeling, but I told her that I needed space. I think I got scared because we established a routine. It made me nervous. So I picked up some hobbies.”

“What kind of hobbies?” His suspicious tone made me feel guilty. 

“I volunteered at the high school to help with some classes and to mentor the school’s chess club. But while I was there, I met this biology teacher -”

“A female biology teacher, I assume.” 

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“Reid, I know where this is going.” 

Where was this going?

“She’s a pretty woman, huh?”

“Well, yes, Lila is pretty and smart, but so what? I’m allowed to have friends. But anyways, her and I began emailing and we planned on getting coffee and Y/N got on my laptop and read those emails and -”

“You can’t be that stupid, Reid. First of all, you don’t actually want space from Y/N. You are always beaming after spending time with her. You love her more than you love yourself, and everyone knows that. Everyone but her, and probably Lila now - and that is probably one of the worst things you can do. You can’t let your woman feel like she has to compete with other women, and you can’t let other women feel like they have the chance to steal you away. That’s how you lose a good woman. You were emailing this woman, and you set up a date with her? After reducing the already limited time that you have to spend with your girlfriend, who is also incredibly pretty and smart too, I might add.” 

“Oh...” OH! She’s not insecure, I’m just an idiot. I didn’t even want space at all, I was just scared. I just didn’t want to get complacent. When my parents got complacent in their relationship, it ended. Same with Hotch and Hailey. And Penelope and Kevin. Oh my God. What did I do?

“Exactly, pretty boy. You better show up at home with some flowers and chocolates and be prepared to kiss her feet. And I’d take a break from lecturing at that school, too.” 

“Yeah, no doubt. Thanks Morgan.” 

“Go get her, tiger.” 

After hanging up, I opened the messaging app on my phone to send her a text just to let her know that I am willing and ready to fix my mistake. 

Hey baby. I just want you to know that I won’t volunteer at the school anymore, if you don’t want me to. I will also take you out this weekend, wherever you want. I love you, and I’m on the way home. 

I was out there on the road, life out of control, She became a victim to my busy schedule, And I know that it's not fair, that don't mean that I don't care - This one's dedicated to the girl out there...  

She probably won’t respond, but that’s fine, we will talk when I get home. I asked the florist for a sunflower and rose combination, and bought food from her favorite Mexican restaurant downtown. I also stopped at the grocery to get a tub of ice cream along with chocolate, caramel, and strawberry syrup, with candy and sprinkles to make sundaes. I one-upped Derek’s recommendation, and I couldn’t wait to tell him about it. 

“Baby, I’m home! We need to talk. I am so, so, sorry sweetheart... Y/N?” I shout, even though it’s pretty clear she’s not here. 

Setting my bag on the end table, I notice a note on the refrigerator. 

Spencer, 

I am really sorry that I didn’t end up being good enough for you. I hope you don’t mind but I’ll be back for the rest of my things eventually, but if you still need space from me, it can wait. Thank you for the best year of my life. You were amazing, and I hope that Lila makes you feel the way that you made me feel. I will always love you, and I know that you will continue to do amazing things in life. Tell your mom that I love her, too. 

Love, Y/N

It was actually 15 months, 6 days, and 43 minutes, approximately. 

I dialed her number without even thinking about it. Still no answer. 

I can’t believe that she left. It feels like I’m drowning - my breath is caught in my chest. BREATHE SPENCER!

She took most of her clothes. She took her computer and books too. She’s gone. She left me. Oh no. What have I done? 

Girl you always catch me at the bad time, When I know you probably think it's a lie... And I know I told you last time was the last time, How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

Not breathin', what is it that I'm not seein'? Said she's leavin', damn I can't believe it... It's like my heart's bleedin' - Knowin' that you don't need me. Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now...

[munchcorner]

Study Sessions (DabiHawks/TouKei)

Keigo knows a lot about Touya, but not the fact that he's smart. He doesn't know that Touya would intentionally fail his quizzes just to have him teach in the late afternoons.

"It's not difficult, Touya," Keigo says as he writes an activity for Touya to answer in his notebook.

"Yeah, that's why I failed," Touya says with his elbow propped on the table and his chin resting on his palm while watching Keigo.

Keigo rolls his eyes after hearing Touya's answer, "that's because you weren't listening,"

"He was boring. Just hearing his voice makes me wanna go to sleep," Touya says and slumps against the chair, "besides, I have you to teach me after lectures,"

"I don't get paid for this," Keigo says and pouts. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, "look, you have to learn on your own. I have to look for a job next week,"

Touya stares, "why?"

"I'm not from a wealthy family like yours, Touya," Keigo answers and stares him in the eye.

"I'll pay you for teaching me," Touya says immediately. Keigo laughs and leans on the table, "My rate is high, you know,"

Touya scoffs, "I don't really care. Give me your rate, and I'll pay you. Just keep teaching me,"

Keigo shakes his head, "I was kidding. I can teach you for free even if I get a part-time job. Just not as early as this,"

Touya furrows his brows, "but that means lesser hours,"

"It's going to be fine. You're a fast learner. An hour or two should be enough,"

Touya grits his teeth, "what if it isn't?"

"You can pay a tutor," Keigo shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal. Well, it probably isn't to him but to Touya, it is.

"I don't want a tutor," Touya says and places his hand on the notebook to stop Keigo from writing, "why should I look for one when you're already here?"

Keigo leans on the chair after sighing, "I'm not comfortable taking money from you, Touya. You're my friend. It's weird,"

Friend. Touya notes as he tries to remind himself that that's all he has, friendship.

"You're not taking money from me, Keigo. I'm paying you just compensation for the time you spent teaching me," Touya says, but Keigo still shakes his head in refusal.

"it's still a no, Touya," Keigo says and moves the notebook towards Touya for him to answer.

Touya stares at it. He doesn't need this right now. What he needs is to convince Keigo to accept his offer.

"C'mon, Keigo," Touya says and pouts. He bats his lashes and acts as cute as he can, but all he receives is Keigo messing with his hair, "it's still a no,"

"What if we go with your set up and if it doesn't work, you accept my offer," Touya says, he stares at Keigo with hopeful eyes, "I'll tell you after you answer that,"

Touya nods, "okay, make the right decision, Keigo,"

Touya finishes his activity within a few minutes and slides the notebook towards Keigo, "this should tell you that I can only understand topics if it's you teaching me,"

Keigo rolls his eyes after returning Touya's notebook to him with a perfect mark.

"Fine, let's go with a month," Keigo agrees, making Touya grin.

"Right," Touya says and stands up, "come on, let's get you your yakitori before I drive you home,"

Keigo beams, and it makes Touya smile.

After a week, Keigo finally starts working before and after classes. He'd usually arrive at school tired and hungry that's why Touya would always wait for him in the lecture hall with a paper bag of sandwich and a cup of coffee.

"Your bags are growing darker with each passing day. Are you sure you're sleeping well?" Touya asks after brushing Keigo's fringe to the side.

"I don't know to be honest," Keigo says and hurriedly eats his food before their professor enters the hall, "I've been so busy with work and school that I keep losing track of time,"

Touya presses his lips together to hold back his tongue. He couldn't understand why Keigo's so stubborn about accepting his offer.

"Take care of yourself," Touya says instead and hands Keigo a bottle of water.

Keigo nods and shoves half of the sandwich in his mouth when their professor enters the class.

"I'll see you later tonight at the cafe," Keigo says as he fixes all of his stuff. He was rushing to go to work, and Touya's a little annoyed that he doesn't get to spend more time with Keigo, but he tries his best to understand.

"Wait," Touya says and grabs Keigo's hand when he was about to leave the hall.

"Touya, I don't have time for anything. If I don't-"

Keigo doesn't get to finish what he's saying when Touya gives him a paper bag, "take these with you. They're vitamins and snacks. If you're going stay up late, then you better make sure to take care of yourself,"

Touya couldn't understand the emotion that passes by Keigo's face, but he's content with the smile Keigo gives him, "thanks, but I really have to go,"

Touya lets go and watches as Keigo runs away.

Touya arrives at the cafe an hour earlier. He already ordered Keigo's favorite dessert and beverage to make sure he gets to eat. He was on his phone when he hears Keigo bang his head on the table.

"Tired?" Touya asks. Keigo raises his head and stares at him before nodding. He doesn't say anything and silently pulls out his notes, papers, and notebooks.

"What was I supposed to teach you again?" Keigo asks. He doesn't usually ask Touya because he keeps it in mind, but it seems like the stress was taking a toll on him.

"It's fine. You don't have to teach me anything today," Touya says and puts down his phone. He slides his quiz paper to Keigo and gives him a small smile.

"I got a perfect score. You don't need to teach me," Touya says but what he doesn't expect is the genuine bliss on Keigo's face when he sees it.

"I knew you were smart! You just needed to listen to the professor," Keigo says and smiles at Touya, "I'm so proud of you,"

Touya doesn't say anything. He just nods because the warmth blooming in his chest is something he can never put into words.

"What do you want to do?" Keigo asks as he takes a sip of his drink.

"What?" Touya asks.

"To celebrate, I mean, it's not a lot, but I'm really proud of you," Keigo says and smiles, "so, tell me what you want to do,"

"We don't have to do anything. You can use the spare time to study," Touya says and smiles before pulling out a few books.

"But we do that every day," Keigo says, "why don't we let loose and just do something you want today?"

Touya doesn't say anything as he tries to think of something decent to do, "go to dinner with me,"

Keigo furrows his brows, "are you sure that's all you want?"

Touya nods, "it's more than enough,"

Ever since that night, Touya didn't try to fail his subjects. He wanted to see Keigo smile, and if that means passing every quiz and exam, then he's willing to put in the time and effort to study just to hear Keigo say he's proud and happy. The deal was over, too, but Touya would always meet up with Keigo at the cafe to review together.

"I think I'm becoming stupid," Keigo says as he pulls on his hair, "I can't understand anything,"

Touya looks at Keigo's book and sees that it's been randomly highlighted, "Which part do you want me to teach you?"

Keigo raises his head and shows him a small smile, "I didn't think we'd reach a day where we exchange roles,"

"Well, you're busy with work," Touya says, "I have too much time to review,"

"You're right," Keigo says and slumps on the table, "I'm so tired,"

Touya runs his hand through Keigo's hair, "take a nap. Nothing will go through your brain if you force yourself,"

"But I still-"

"Keigo, just go to sleep. I'll make new notes for you to study," Touya says and smiles.

"But-"

"No buts Keigo," Touya sternly says and takes all of Keigo's things as he starts to take note.

Keigo couldn't do anything about so he just smiles and says, "thank you, Touya,"

Keigo silently sleeps on the table while Touya makes the notes. Once he was done, he stares at Keigo and lets his chin rest on the table, "I love you so much, Keigo,"

Keigo wakes up and sees Touya sleeping in front of him. He runs his hand through Touya's hair and stares at the notes sitting beside him, "you're not good for the heart, Touya. Keep doing all these, and I'll fall deeper,"

Keigo then silently starts to study after a few minutes of staring at Touya's sleeping figure. He was too engrossed in reading that he didn't notice Touya waking up.

"What time is it?" Touya asks after waking up.

Keigo raises his head and looks at the time on his phone, "it's already past midnight,"

"You should've woke me up," Touya says and stretches, "you need time to sleep. You still have work in the morning,"

"You looked adorable while sleeping. I couldn't find it in me to wake you up," Keigo mindlessly says while fixing his things.

"You're going to be the death of me, Keigo," Touya whispers.

"What?" Keigo asks and turns around, but Touya shakes his head, "it's nothing. Let's go. I'll drive you home,"

Keigo nods and follows Touya to his car. As Touya drives, he notices that Keigo fell asleep while leaning on the window, "you aren't even doing anything, but you're already making my heart leap,"

Touya stops in front of Keigo's apartment, but he doesn't wake him up immediately. He stares at Keigo and contemplates about confessing, but after some time, he shakes his head, "I'll content myself with what we have," he whispers to himself before waking Keigo up.

"You're home,"

--*--

I also have this posted on Twitter.

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Professor Kuroo Part Four (Kuroo Tetsurou x F!reader)

You weren’t expecting to get paired with the young and attractive Dr. Kuroo as your faculty mentor when you became a graduate student. And everything is fine until you both let it go a little too far one night in the dark quiet of the library. 

genre: mutual pining, angst, slowburn (i think??) words: 2.6k

a/n: dropping this here and running away 

taglist: @afterglowkuroo @apollochjld @kurosarium @crescentsteel if you would like to be added to the taglist, lmk!

part one part two part three

In the following weeks, you and Kuroo barely speak beyond what is required for work. There are no more all nighters spent huddled together in the lab, spending hours with just each other—it pains you how much you miss it. How much you hate that when you see each other in the office you barely give each other anything past a courteous nod. The ghost of your relationship hangs in the air whenever you’re with him, urging you to just get over yourself. There’s clearly nothing else you both would rather do than just be together.

And it doesn’t help that you’ve begun to sit in on his lectures too, finding yourself with ample amounts of free time now that most of the preparation for the convention is finished. You try and chalk it up to the fact that you want to see how someone not much older than yourself has made himself an established member of this profession. You can’t help the jealousy that washes over you at the blatant stares of his female students—that they get to openly ogle him and daydream while you stuff all that somewhere deep inside yourself.

He makes no comments about your sudden appearance at his lectures.

He does notice you, however. And goddamn you are distracting. Not that you think you are, no—if you thought that he doesn’t think you’d show up. So, he does his best to ignore you, and by the time he’s finished speaking to students after class, you’ve already packed up and left.

These weeks have been rather boring. He didn’t realize how much you livened up his day until you were missing from it. Personally, he thinks it’s far more suspicious that the two of you have suddenly ceased all interactions completely rather than going about the way you have been before he blew everything to shit in the library that night. But if this is what you’re comfortable with, he can respect that.

He tries not to think about what happened at The Brew. How utterly embarrassing the entire night was.

But he’s holding on desperately to something you said.

You wish things were different.

He probably shouldn’t dwell on those words, but he can’t help himself.

And it’s pathetic how his heart jumps into his throat when a week or two from the convention you stride into his office without warning and shut the door behind you. It’s hard for him not to hope that maybe you’ve finally hit the tipping point, finding the past few weeks just as unbearable as he has.

Instead, you slump into one of his armchairs letting out a defeated sigh. He finds himself frozen in his seat, unsure what to do, and afraid to scare you off from whatever you’ve come in here for. After a moment, you groan loudly and finally turn to face him. “I need help with the presentation.”

He blinks, realizing you’re just here for advice. Though, he supposes it’s better than the silence that has stretched between you since The Brew.

“What about it?”

You frown. “I can give it perfectly when I practice, but every time I think about getting up in front of all those people, I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Ah. He can remember how nerve wracking his first presentation was too, so he understands how you’re feeling. “Do you want to practice in front of me?” He offers. “I always felt better after actually giving it to someone.”

He isn’t expecting your frown to deepen. “I don’t think that’ll help.”

He cocks his head. “Why?”

Yet another sigh escapes you. Then you look up at the ceiling, biting your lip—something he hates to admit he watches very intently. “Because…well—it’s just you.”

Now he laughs. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”

“We’ve been working on this together all year, so forgive me if you don’t make me particularly nervous.” You shrug. He lifts a brow at that statement, that he doesn’t make you nervous—and you immediately realize your mistake. Giving him a pointed look, you say, “Keep whatever you were about to say to yourself.”

There’s no ignoring the mischievous glint in his eye as he replies smoothly, “I don’t think it’d be a problem for me to change that.” To your relief, he remains seated, otherwise he’d see how right he actually is.

He’s surprised that you’re letting him go on this long, when you could easily just leave his office and end this conversation. Instead, you seem to rise to his challenge, leaning toward him on the arm of the chair, meeting his gaze and without even so much as blinking, retort, “Don’t try and act like this isn’t a two-way street. I know full well you’d be a tomato if I were to come over there and show you just how I’d make you nervous.”

The words tumble out of you without you fully realizing where you’re taking this conversation—and that he’s letting you do it. The smirk on his face telling you just how much he’s enjoying this, and you hate to admit how easy it was to fall back into this. After weeks of avoiding him, one harmless conversation is all it took to be right where you started.

Leaning back in his chair, he folds him arms, his eyes daring you to show him just what you mean. “Oh, I’m not disagreeing with you at all. But, back to the reason you’re here; I have plenty of students who are looking into graduate school and may be interested in listening to what we’ve been working on and get some more information on what being a graduate student is like. I could set something up if you think that might help.”

He nearly tips out of his chair at your expression. “Really?!” God, his heart is going to explode at your eyes wide with excitement. “That’d be perfect! And I’d love to talk about being a graduate student!”

Because in all honesty, it’s been wonderful—minus falling head over heels for your assigned faculty member. After your outburst, he barely has the brain cells left to give you a smile and promise that he’ll look into it. Rising from your chair, you extend your thanks to him and bolt from his office, feeling like if you stay any longer you’ll find it way too easy to stay and chat with him.

You miss him.

And you didn’t really realize how much until he wasn’t in your life anymore.

~

Kuroo isn’t shocked that half his class is interested in coming and listening to you speak. Though he thinks that some of them just want another chance to ogle him freely before the semester is over. But today his attention is focused on you, leaning over your shoulder at the front of the room and helping you connect your laptop to the projector. And you’re too wrapped up in what you’re doing to make any comment about it.

Mostly you’re too focused on keeping your nerves in check so you can garner the courage to start your presentation. Once you start talking you know you’ll calm down but right now you need to distract yourself. And sue you for letting yourself find comfort in Kuroo’s presence. His solid frame behind you and deep voice is doing wonders for your nerves, surprisingly. In any other situation he’d be the one making you nervous.

“You ready?” He asks quietly, his breath brushing against your ear.

It doesn’t slip past him that you barely flinch. He honestly thought you’d run for the hills at his proximity. Instead, you slide your attention to him from the corner of your eye and give him a small smile. He’s so in awe of your behavior that he doesn’t catch what you say.

“Kuroo?” You whisper, turning your back to the class in an attempt to hide just how comfortable you are with each other.

He blinks and gathers his senses. “Sorry, what did you say? Are you ready?”

Now your brows lift. “I said that I am.”

“Great!” Now it’s him retreating from you, swiveling around you towards the class and clapping his hands for the class’s attention. He introduces you as his graduate student and says, “A lot of you are looking into graduate work and I thought it might be helpful for you to see what they do. So, without further ado, the floor is yours.” He steps away and moves to sit at the end of one of the first rows of seats.

It’s hard to not clam up on the spot. Stiffly, you introduce yourself again and try not to let your gaze just stay on Kuroo—no matter how much easier it is to ignore everyone else in the room.

“This year I’ve been working with Dr. Kuroo and assisting him in his research. We are going to a conference in a couple of weeks and will be presenting on our work. It was my job to compile our findings and put together this presentation…”

Once you get into the actual presentation, your words start to flow, and you feel much more at ease talking about the things you’ve spent the last several months working on. As expected, many of the students look like everything you are saying is going completely over their heads—which is understandable. The other half look more interested in staring at Kuroo the entire time.

Though Kuroo’s attention is on you the entire time. He loves the way you talk about your work, clearly excited and very into what you do. It makes him proud to have you as a colleague, and despite any feelings he has for you, he really does respect you as a fellow professional. The way you talk about your work is the way he imagines he does, and on more than one occasion he’s found himself deep in discussion with you on different topics within the field. It isn’t hard to figure out why he fell head over heels for you.

When you’re done speaking, some students have questions about being a graduate student. Simple things like how to apply, how did you get paired, and some sheepishly asking how the hell you learned whatever the fuck you just talked about. It’s easy answering their questions, but you know come conference time where people will actually understand the research, they might come at you with some more in-depth questions.

Kuroo does throw you a couple questions to try and mimic that, but since he knows everything about the project too, they aren’t too difficult in your opinion. The whole ordeal took less than an hour, but you do feel a lot better afterwards. The conference doesn’t seem so gut-wrenchingly terrifying now.

As you’re packing up your things, you notice Kuroo get cornered by several of his students. And damn you to hell—you strain to eavesdrop on their conversation. Mostly it consists of them gushing over him, expressing how fascinating they think the project is, and that they’re really interested in graduate work now.

Kuroo wasn’t expecting this at all. Sure, he knows they stare and blush around him, but all semester these students have kept their respectable distance. He surmises now that they’re basically “graduated” in their eyes they feel those walls no longer exist. He isn’t quite sure what to do in this situation, so he resorts to constantly changing the subject back to you. Claiming (truthfully) that he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with his project without you.

“Maybe one of us will get paired with you next year if we apply here!” One of them suggests cheerfully.

Before he can process what he’s about to say, he tells them that he’ll probably be working with you for the next year too.

At the front of the room, upon hearing those words, you fumble putting your laptop into your bag and it clatters to the ground startling everyone. If you had the ability to disappear, you would. With clammy hands, you pick it up and shove it haphazardly into your bag as Kuroo attempts to explain himself.

“It’s just uncommon for graduate students to get switched mid-way through their studies,” he says, smiling half-heartedly.

That is unless they request to be off your project.

His students resume their cheery disposition and continue talking to him while he watches you head for the door. Just as you’re about to leave, you pause before abruptly turning and striding across the room towards him. And he can’t help but be very intrigued at what you’re about to say, judging from your expression you must be aiming to save him from his current predicament.

He wonders why you even needed to practice your presentation in the first place as you must have balls of steel to interrupt the conversation and say, “Excuse me, I need to speak to Dr. Kuroo about the conference before we leave for the day.” What impresses him further is how believable you sound.

At least he’s quick to catch on.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says apologetically, moving towards you and the exit. “I hope you all have a wonderful summer and good luck in your future! Email me if you need a letter of recommendation!” And with that, he uses those long legs of his to get him out of there, with you hot on his heels.

On your way out, you smirk at him, carefully making sure to hide your face from the onlookers behind you and pretending to move your hands like you’re deep in conversation with him. All while he watches you incredulously before giving you a look as you tease, “I didn’t know you were such an instigator of scandals, Kuroo.”

“Not plural,” he corrects, then lowers his voice. “Just you.”

Your heart involuntary twists at those words.

Instead of going any further into that territory, you say, “So, we’ll be working together for the next year too?”

His attention snaps to you, but you’re staring straight ahead towards the office doors, apparently unbothered by his earlier claim. He rubs the back of his neck, tongue feeling dry in his mouth, unsure how he should explain that statement.

But before he has the opportunity to do so, as you pull open the office doors you say plainly, “I can’t imagine working with anyone else anyways, and I don’t think I’d want to.”

He’s stunned.

“Besides,” you shrug, holding the door open for him. “I don’t think anyone else would be able to keep up with me either.”

Now a laugh escapes him. “That’s true. I barely can.”

You give him a smile that warms him to the very depths of his soul as you stop at your desk to get the rest of your things. He continues on to his office, and when he’s finished packing up, he’s surprised to find you waiting for him at the door.

The two of you walk out together in comfortable silence, and once you reach the point where you go your separate ways, he hears you take an audible breath before quietly saying, “Thank you for helping me out and setting that up for me.”

He just looks at you, his soft golden gaze tying your throat into knots. “You’re welcome.”

Trying not to get lost in the look he’s giving you, you choke out, “See you tomorrow.”

You step away from him to head down the street towards the station when you hear him call from behind you, “At least let me give you a ride home!”

Not even bothering to look behind you, you give him a slight wave and continue walking. “Bye!”

He’s subconsciously grinning when he slides into the driver’s seat of his car.

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (4)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: explicit sex, cursing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial

word count: 6.3k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: first of all i hope everyone had a great holiday and a happy new year 😘 i was verrrry busy which is why this update is a bit delayed. thank you guys for being patient with me while i get my shit together! i hope you enjoy this part because i loved writing it. also please check out the playlist i made for parts 1-4 right here :) 

↳ index here

Jinyoung: Y/N Jinyoung: I need you to come over immediately Jinyoung: It’s an emergency

You: what?? what’s wrong??? You: …. You: this isn’t like a sex emergency right

Jinyoung: No. Please just come over.

“What’s wrong? What’s the emergency?” you asked urgently as you slipped inside of Jinyoung’s apartment. 

Jinyoung welcomed you in, and the first thing you noticed was his casual attire—gray joggers, a hunter green hoodie, and a pair of wire rimmed glasses you hadn’t seen him wear since high school. It also looked like he’d just recently gotten out of the shower, judging by the damp locks of hair clinging to his temples.

Funny enough, your own outfit mirrored his. A gray sweatshirt and black joggers. After all, you had been halfway ready for bed by the time he texted you, even though it wasn’t really that late. It was Sunday night, you’d spent all weekend working and you weren’t ashamed to call it a night before ten o’clock. 

“I have… two hours,” Jinyoung started, glancing at his watch and then back at you, “to pack for a week and a half in New York.”

You blinked at him. “You what?”

Jinyoung let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed your hand, tugging you back towards his bedroom. You nearly passed out from shock at the state of disarray that greeted you; suitcase wide open on the floor, piles of clothes everywhere, shampoo bottles laying around haphazardly. Never, in all the years you’d known him, had you seen his room anything but spotless—not even in that shitty third floor walk up he and Jackson lived in before they both got grown up jobs. 

“Why does it look the toiletries aisle threw up all over your room, Jinyoung?” 

Jinyoung, frazzled as you’d ever seen him, ruffled the back of his own hair harshly. “My boss called me an hour ago asking if I’d go to this convention because the girl that was meant to do it got mono. So now I’m flying to New York in four hours.” 

Your eyes lit up as you smacked his chest excitedly. “That’s great!”

He’d mentioned the convention a few times in the last few weeks. He was excited about it, you knew that much, but that was when his responsibility was to organize the event from afar. In your opinion, it sounded like your personal heaven. Thousands of avid book readers came from all over the world, just to share their excitement over books. You couldn’t imagine anything better.

He groaned, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “It’s terrible. You know I hate unexpected surprises, Y/N. What if I screw it up?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not going to happen. They probably asked you to do it because they know you’re capable. You’re basically the head of your department, right?”

Jinyoung shrugged modestly. “I mean, yeah. I’ve been in charge of planning the entire thing for the last two months.”

“Exactly. So it’ll be fine—you worry far too much. Now, how can I help with… all of this?” You looked around at the chaos dispersed throughout his bedroom, not sure where to start. 

Jinyoung took in a deep, calming breath, then pointed to the pile of clean clothes on the floor next to the suitcase. “If you can put those clothes in the packing cubes and get them into the suitcase—why are you laughing?”

You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laugh as you sat in front of his pile of clothing. “Nothing. I just… of course you use packing cubes.”

Jinyoung pursed his lips—giving you his trademark unamused look. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m in a crisis.” 

“You’re so dramatic. I swear.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips forming a smirk. “Stop scowling at me and get to packing, mister.” 

Jinyoung mumbled something under his breath, which sounded a lot like not the boss of me, and they’re practical but you couldn’t be too sure. Still, he settled on his bed, picking out items from the massive pile of mini sized hair and skin products and stuffing them into a travel bag. 

Comfortable silence filled the room as you two focused on your separate tasks, but you could practically hear Jinyoung’s racing thoughts from across the room. It was almost annoying how well you could read his emotions, which you chalked up to your many years of friendship. 

But you knew he’d feel better once the daunting task of packing was done with, so you sorted his clothing as he asked. Once the cubes were full of his clothes, folded and organized into his suitcase, you stood from the floor and crawled onto the bed. 

You perched on your knees behind him, leaning your chin onto his shoulder. He smelled nice, you noticed. Like fresh linen. “Are you done yet?”

He grunted, shaking his head as he tossed a bottle of face moisturizer into his bag with more force than necessary.

You hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Can I interest you in a short distraction? Since you’ll be gone for… how long again?” 

Jinyoung didn’t respond, just continued stuffing items into travel sized bags as if he didn’t hear you. You pouted, squeezing him tighter. His entire body was tense, from his shoulders down to his abs. 

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching for his hands to pull them into his lap. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” 

He just lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Just don’t want to screw it up,” he mumbled. 

You sighed and shifted next to him, crawling into his lap to straddle his waist. Reaching for his chin, you lifted his eyes to yours. You would’ve had to be blind not to see how nervous he was about this.

“Hey,” you said again. “That’s not going to happen. Trust me. Remember that time, in college, we both wrote down the wrong date for our European Lit exam and we were completely blindsided when we walked into class? You passed with a 96. You’re great under pressure, Jinyoung. You’re smart, you work hard, and you’re quick on your feet.” 

Jinyoung’s features, ever so slightly, softened as he listened to you. He knew you were right. You had seen him come out on top of so many stressful situations, and you knew this time was no different. 

“What’d you get on that exam? I don’t think you ever told me.” 

You cringed at the memory. The big, fat red marker the teacher had used to scribble your nearly failing grade across your test flashed in your mind. “65. Dad lectured me for about three hours about that one.” 

“Ouch,” Jinyoung began, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. It seemed he was already feeling better. “Maybe I should have tutored you. I could have gotten you some extra credit…” 

Though it was his attempt at trying to sound sexy, it just came off cheesy and you couldn’t help but snort. “You’re lucky you’re really good in bed, because your pillow talk leaves something to be desired.” 

Jinyoung grinned, leaning in to nip at your neck. “Hmm,” he hummed against your skin, hands slipping up the back of your hoodie. “All I heard was really good in bed.”

“Mm,” you tilted your head, allowing him more space to kiss your neck. You didn’t even care about the marks he could leave. “Did I say that? I meant terrible in bed. Like, so bad.” You smiled at the laugh he pressed into your skin.

You shivered as he grazed his fingertips up and down your spine, goosebumps forming wherever he touched. No matter how many times he put his hands on you, it never stopped having such an effect on you. 

The last month, after Bambam’s party, you’d set out three rules for yourself: no cuddling, no sleeping over, and no unnecessary kissing. So far, you’d held your ground. If Jinyoung noticed anything weird, he didn’t show it. Just nodded and walked you to the door each time you chose not to sleep over. 

But the sex was still worth keeping your arrangement. Jinyoung had shown you a side of yourself you weren’t aware of until now, and you couldn’t deny he made you feel desirable in a way that was totally new. You had no hesitation telling him what you wanted or needed in order to feel good—unlike how you’d been in past relationships. 

“So how about that distraction?” you whispered, threading your fingers through Jinyoung’s hair and pushing it away from his face. 

He laughed again. “We don’t have time.” 

You stuck your lip out, pulling back enough to look at him. “Yes we do. I’m not going to see you for almost two weeks, can’t I just… have something to remember you by?” 

Jinyoung glanced at the clock on his wall, then back at you. The clock, then you again. “Alright, fine. You’re lucky you’re really good in bed.”

Your pout turned into a pleased grin. “I know.” 

To shut you up, he reached for your sweatshirt to pull off, throwing the material to the floor. He cursed under his breath when he saw you were completely bare under your hoodie. “God. I swear you live to drive me insane.” 

“Hmm, maybe, maybe not,” you said, as you slipped your hands back into his hair and gave the strands a firm tug. 

“Fuck,” he started, hands squeezing your hips. “Want to come to New York with me? Just curl up in my suitcase?” 

You laughed, hips rolling down against him almost instinctively, craving more contact. “Sounds uncomfortable.” 

“Mm,” he shook his head and leaned in, kissing across your chest. “Don’t know how I’ll live without these.” 

“By ‘these’ do you mean my boobs?” 

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“You’re dumb,” you replied with a laugh, hands traveling down his torso until you could tug his sweatshirt off of him. “I’ll send you a picture every day, just so you don’t miss them too much.” 

Jinyoung flipped you over onto your back, kicking his pile of toiletries out of the way and cringing at the sound of about a thousand lotion bottles falling to the floor. “You’re too good to me.” 

“I know,” you responded, quick to remove his shirt as well, revealing the toned torso you never got sick of seeing. “You’re so lucky to have me.” 

“Something like that,” he said as he looked down at you, eyes shining with desire. His hips were grinding into yours so perfectly, the bulge in his sweats pressing into your center just right. 

Your eyes fell shut as you groaned, only encouraging him to push into you with more force. He could bring you to the edge just like this, and you made a mental note to test that theory someday. Tonight, though, you wanted him inside of you. 

Jinyoung leaned down, closing his mouth around one of your nipples and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak, over and over. You arched into him, wanting more. In a matter of minutes, he’d already reduced you to a pliant mess underneath of him. 

His mouth traveled downwards and more bottles were knocked to the floor, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You’d clean up the mess later. He sucked a hickey into your hip as he pulled off your joggers, making you shiver when the cold air hit your skin. 

“The snowmen underwear,” Jinyoung mused, a smirk on his lips. You’d forgotten you had grabbed those from your drawer today--the same pair you’d worn the first night you slept together. At this point, you’d given up trying to always be wearing sexy underwear when you’d see Jinyoung. He truly did not care what you had under your clothes, as he reminded you so many times. 

“Shut up,” you told him, squirming your hips as he stared up at you. 

“They’re cute,” he said, just as he did that first night. “I might rip them off you, though. Wanna fuck you so bad.” He leaned down, licking right up the line of your covered slit. 

You bit back a moan and gripped the sheets underneath of you, already feeling restless with need. 

“It’s a shame we’re tight on time,” he muttered, nose nudging against your clit. “I’d love to spend the whole night between your thighs. Just tasting you, making you crazy…”

You wouldn’t have minded that at all. Jinyoung was a perfectionist, and it was never more apparent than when he had his mouth on you, determined to make you feel good. It was an experience, every single time. 

When he finally pulled your underwear off, he glanced up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your panties dangled off his index finger. “Want to give me something to remember you by?” 

You stared down at him, skeptical. “Yes…?” 

Jinyoung sat up on his knees, balling up your underwear and tossing it into his opened suitcase. You gaped up at him, reaching to hit his arm. “Jinyoung! You can’t steal my underwear!” 

He laughed, leaning back down to hover over you. “I didn’t steal them. You said yes. Come on, please?” 

“You’re so weird,” you told him, relenting. As shocked as you were, you couldn’t deny that it was hot, him wanting to take your panties along across the world just to remember you by. Whatever that meant. 

“Shh, tight on time, remember?” he dipped down to kiss you, smiling against your lips and causing you to do the same. 

Your hands roamed his body, trying to memorize the lines and curves of his skin just so that you wouldn’t forget. It would be the longest you’d gone without seeing Jinyoung since you started sleeping together two months ago. At this point, you knew his body better than your own. You were going to miss it. 

“Hey,” you spoke against his lips, pulling away to push his hair away from his eyes. “This is the first time you’ve fucked me with glasses on.” 

“And?” he asked, thick brows pushed together. 

You shrugged. “And I think you look hot. You’re like my sexy, visually impaired teacher.” 

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed slightly just before he rolled them. “Oh, I see, you think you’re special because you have perfect vision.” 

You grinned up at him. “At least I said you were sexy.” 

He grumbled, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip. “Careful, or you’ll get detention.” 

You stifled a laugh, which further annoyed him. “Sorry. Not funny.” 

Jinyoung hated to be teased, and you knew it, but you couldn’t help getting a kick out of it. You loved that grumpy, unamused frown he threw at you whenever you challenged him. 

“Turn over.” 

You raised your brows, smile dropping from your lips. Oh. He looked down at you, eyes darkening with that familiar lustful glare. Your breath hitched in your chest as you flipped over onto your stomach, laying sideways on the bed with your ankles dangling off one end. 

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he pressed down onto your shoulders with a light pressure to keep you down. “Face down.” 

A tingle spread down your body, right to your core. What had started as a playful joke was quickly turning into something more, something you’d only fantasized about late at night when you were alone. 

Jinyoung sat on his knees, straddling your thighs, his weight just barely resting on you. Your heart was pounding in anticipation. His fingertips grazed down your back, starting between your shoulder blades until he was brushing against the curve of your lower back. 

“I thought we didn’t have much time?” you asked, turning your head to look back at him with one cheek pressed into his blankets. 

He glared down at you. “Every time you talk back to me, that’s one.” 

You gulped. “One what?” 

He barely hesitated before his hand came down against the center of your ass cheek. You whimpered, pressing your face into the blankets. The sting only lasted for a moment before you felt a pulse of pleasure low in your stomach. 

“Now,” Jinyoung started, his hand massaging the area where he’d just smacked. You took a deep breath in, desperately trying to keep your hips from squirming. “Are you going to be good for me?” 

You nodded vigorously, stealing a glance behind you. The look on his face reminded you of how he’d looked after Bambam’s party, demanding you to touch yourself. A look you’d thought about many, many times since. 

He shocked you when he smacked your ass again, your back arching involuntarily. “Use your words, angel.” 

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good.” 

You were certain if his hand drifted down the few inches away from your ass to your entrance, he would feel just how wet he’d made you already. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I believe you. You don’t always listen. Always trying to make it difficult for me, aren’t you?” 

You shook your head. “N-no. I wanna be good for you, Jinyoung.” 

His tongue ran over his bottom lip slowly, giving you that familiar predatory gaze. “You’re gonna have to prove it to me.” His hands were massaging your ass again, stopping to squeeze the soft flesh every now and then. 

“How?” You asked, fear and arousal blooming in your chest. You knew whatever he had in store for you wouldn’t be easy.

Jinyoung trailed his right hand up your back again, pushing your hair aside so that you could see him without any obstruction. “Don’t come. No matter what.” 

Again, you swallowed hard. You wouldn’t be good at this game and you both knew it. He got you so hot so fast that you could never hold back, which wasn’t usually a problem, until now.

His hand traveled down your back, fingers grazing over the curve of your ass until they slipped down to your entrance. You watched his face, enthralled, as he gathered the wetness that had already dripped out of you and brought it to his lips to taste. You moaned. 

Jinyoung looked down at you, smirking. “Oh, that’s not a good sign. I barely even touched you. Try to control yourself, okay, baby? You can do it.” 

You bit down onto your lip again, nodding at him as you slid your hands up underneath of your head, gripping his blankets. “Okay.” 

When he finally slipped his fingers inside of you, your eyes fell shut. Only two fingers and you could tell you were squeezing around him, your current position doing nothing to give him easier access. 

He began a slow, torturous pace inside of you with his two fingers, scissoring them inside of you every few thrusts. You were whining and moaning into the blankets, your fingernails digging into the fabric. 

“So fucking tight. I wish you could see what I’m seeing right now—it’s heavenly.” 

You pressed your forehead into the blankets, teeth pressed hard into your lower lip as he twisted his fingers, turning his hand so that his thumb could massage your clit. You couldn’t help rolling your hips towards his fingers, wanting him deeper inside. 

“Jinyoung, please...” you whispered. 

“Hm? What was that?” he asked, squeezing your ass with his free hand. “You want more?” 

You opened your eyes to look back at him again and nodded. “Please.” 

The sight of him was enough to have your walls clenching on his fingers again. Eyebrows knitted together, completely focused on fucking into you with the perfect pace. The glasses were really just an added bonus. 

With no warning, he slipped a third finger inside of you.

“Fuck,” you groaned loudly, arching your back and fighting to spread your legs, even though they were caged in by Jinyoung’s thighs. 

This earned you another smack, followed by a gentle caress. 

“You’re not controlling yourself very well, are you, angel?” 

You fought back a sob and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry, I just-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, because Jinyoung had curled his fingers inside of you on his next thrust, pressing into your g-spot. 

Then he did it again. And again. 

You had never tried for anything as hard as you were now, desperately trying to keep your orgasm at bay. Heat spread through your entire body but you fought it, even though it made tears form in the corners of your eyes, even though it felt like you were about to explode. 

Jinyoung was receptive, he knew your body well enough that he knew just how close you were and how much effort you were putting into denying your body what it wanted so badly. 

He finally withdrew his fingers from you, but not without another harsh spank. His hands immediately soothed your skin, gently massaging your flesh as he leaned down over your back, kissing the spot between your shoulder blades.

“Such a good girl. You did so good.” 

You melted under his touch as your orgasm retreated. It had been so close, you wouldn’t have lasted much longer if he’d continued. Your skin burned where his hand had made contact and you knew it would hurt to sit tomorrow. 

“Want to stay like this, baby? Looks like it hurts.” 

You nodded with a pout, unfolding your arms from under your chest and stretching them above your head, relieving some of the tension from clenching the sheets in your fists. 

Jinyoung didn’t waste much time, pushing his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs. He looked hard as a rock, and you cursed the fact that you didn’t have enough time to give him a goodbye blowjob. The sight practically had your mouth watering. 

Then he was scooting up your legs, until the head of his cock nudged in between your thighs. He slid between your flesh a few times easily, as your skin was covered with the juices that had dripped out of you. 

You both let out satisfied moans once he slid inside your heat, already wet and beyond ready for him as you always were. 

Jinyoung leaned over you, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of your shoulders. With the rest of his weight resting on his knees, he rolled his hips towards you, pushing his length inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you moaned. It felt new, this depth that he’d reached inside of you. You leaned up on your forearms to arch yourself to a better angle, hips lifting up slightly. 

You were grateful he wasn’t gentle with you, you couldn’t handle that right now. You needed him, quick and deep, and that’s exactly the pace he began inside of you. The only sound in the room was his skin slapping yours and the desperate, throaty moans and pleas for more, more, more. 

Jinyoung ducked his head down to press kisses to your shoulder. It was the affection you needed, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that he was leaving you. Only for a week and a half, but at the moment you couldn’t imagine living without him inside of you for one minute. That was how crazy he made you. 

“Jinyoung,” you begged, bending onto your elbow so that you could grip a hold of his arm next to you. Your name fell from his lips in response, over and over. You craned your neck to find his lips for a messy kiss, somewhat awkward from the angle, but it brought you even closer to the edge. 

“Close?” he asked against your lips before pulling away to press kisses against your jaw. You nodded, squeezing his arm tightly until your fingernails dug into his skin. 

Your nerves were on fire as the familiar tension built inside of you, beginning at your rib cage until it spread lower and lower. Jinyoung lowered onto his elbows until his front was pressed to your back, his hips never slowing or relenting. 

“Gonna come,” Jinyoung said with a groan, digging his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, the sharp pain sending a wave of electricity right to your clit. 

As the tension in your body snapped, you finally allowed yourself to tip over the edge, made more intense by the sensation of Jinyoung reaching his orgasm as well. Your thighs shook as you took every drop from him, letting him fill you. Your own climax hit you like a ton of bricks, fast and hard, your body quivering underneath of him in waves. 

Your body fell limp under his as you finally relaxed, absolutely exhausted from your orgasm. Jinyoung panted behind you, his lips still kissing your skin and whispering how good you were for him, how you fit him perfectly. You wished you weren’t in a daze, or you would have been able to focus on the husky, fucked out tone of his voice. 

Finally, he rolled off to the side, pulling his sweatpants back up over his hips. You were too worn out to move yet, so you just laid there on your stomach while you heard Jinyoung get up for a washcloth. He was always quick to clean you up and you were eternally grateful, especially now. You were pretty sure he’d just taken years off of your life. 

You let him move you however he needed in order to clean you up, and as Jinyoung tossed the washcloth to the side, he stared down at you with raised brows. 

“You okay?” he asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Mm,” you replied, arms unwinding from underneath yourself again to stretch them out, wiggling your fingers. “You just fucked the life out of me. Officially.” 

Jinyoung chuckled, a hand caressing your back as he laid on his side next to you. “Do you think it was the glasses?” he asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

You opened your eyes to look at him, your lips spreading into a grin. “Probably.” 

Even though you had a no cuddling rule, and a no unnecessary kissing rule, you didn’t fight it when Jinyoung brought you into his arms and melted your lips together. 

You blamed it on your exhausted state. 

~~~

“Forrest Gump! Forrest Gump!” Sana whisper-shouted, slapping her pencil down on the restaurant table. “Why isn’t anyone listening to me?!” 

“Because you’re wrong,” Yugyeom replied. “It’s Shawshank Redemption.” 

You sat between Bambam and Jackson in the crowded diner booth as Sana and Yugyeom argued across from you. This was how it’d gone all night. It had been Yugyeom’s bright idea to participate in a trivia night instead of your usual movie night for the month and you were quickly regretting it. 

Jinyoung hated trivia games and never wanted to go when it was suggested, which you suspected was because he hated being wrong. Now that he was away on business, you’d decided to give it a try. It had been a mistake.

Yugyeom was, apparently, fiercely competitive, which would have been okay if Sana wasn’t exactly the same way. You wanted to win, sure, but your two friends were starting to get out of hand with their arguing and butting heads. 

“Okay, okay,” you said, trying to get them to simmer down. People had been staring at you all night, clearly bothered by the constant bickering. “Someone just write down an answer because he’s coming around to get our sheets!” 

Yugyeom snatched the pencil from Sana, scribbling down his favored answer just in time for the host to collect your papers. It was the last round, and you had been in first place the last time they’d checked scores. 

“I hope you’re happy,” Sana sneered, crossing her arms. 

“Oh my God, stop,” you told her, slapping her arm lightly. “It’s just a game! And here we thought Jinyoung would be the problem.” 

The familiar fluttering bloomed in your heart as you spoke his name, which you did your best to shove down just as you had for the last five days since Jinyoung had been gone. You tried to convince yourself your body missed him, not you specifically. 

You pulled out your phone as soon as the host announced you were free to do so, scrolling through your texts until you found your message with Jinyoung. You’d been talking a lot this last week. The convention was this weekend, and in New York it was about time for him to be waking up to get ready.

You: so… we decided to go to trivia tonight You: it’s a blood bath in here

Jinyoung: Ugh. Trivia. 

You: yeah yeah. good morning, by the way :)

Jinyoung: Good morning. How was your day? 

You: good. busy, but in a good way You: are you excited for today??

Jinyoung: Excited? No. Prepared? Also no. But I’m ready to just get on with it already. 

You: it’s gonna be so much fun!!! you get to talk about books all day!!!!!

Jinyoung: Ugh. It’s way too early in my day for all those exclamation points

You: soooo dramaticcccccccc

Jinyoung: Hey, be nice to me, I’m nervous

You: okay okay. you’re going to do great today you know

Jinyoung: I’ll do my best. 

You: shhh. it’ll be great. i’ll stay up late tonight in case you need to call me.

Jinyoung: Good. I miss you. 

“Why are you making that face?” Sana asked, snapping you out of your text trance. 

Your head shot up and you looked around with wide eyes. You’d literally forgotten where you were in the last five minutes. 

“Huh? What face?” 

“Are you… blushing?” Sana replied. “Who are you texting?! It better not be-”

“It’s not Jaebeom!” you said, defensively. 

You hadn’t even talked to him since Bambam’s party when you’d left him on the dance floor. You still felt guilty, but couldn’t bring yourself to reach out to him and open that can of worms. 

“Who is it?” 

You brought your phone to your chest, hiding the screen from your friends. Yugyeom looked confused, Bambam looked mildly amused, and Jackson was eating cheese fries. It truly summed up your friendship. 

“No one.” 

A look of hurt flashed in Sana’s eyes. “Why won’t you tell me who it is?” 

You deflated a bit. It had been difficult in more ways than one having to keep your arrangement with Jinyoung a secret from Sana and the rest of your friends. You hated lying, period, but especially to your best friend. 

“Because it’s…” you looked around at the rest of the table, then down at your phone. “It’s not, like… a real thing.”

“She’s texting Jinyoung!”

Your head whipped in Jackson’s direction. He had blurted the words out like word vomit, and now looked as if the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders. 

“Were you looking at my phone?!” you asked, feeling somewhat violated. 

“No!” he replied. “I’ve known for…” his eyes looked upward as he counted on his fingers. “Six weeks.” 

“Six weeks?! You’ve been dating Jinyoung for six weeks?” Sana asked, her jaw practically dropping to the table. 

You cleared your throat. “Two months. And we’re not dating! We’re just having sex.”

Sana stared blankly at you, not even noticing when the trivia hosts began going over the correct answers. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just thought it was Jaebeom. What… how…?”

“Wait, when did you find out?” you asked Jackson. 

“Well…” he looked down, heaving a deep breath. “At Bambam’s party, he chewed me out in the bathroom for dancing with you and being, you know, touchy. I feared for my life, but also figured something had to be going on for him to get jealous like that. I asked him the next day and he spilled everything.”

You had no idea he’d gotten angry with Jackson. If anything, you’d assumed all his anger had been directed at you. And, besides, you’d settled it later on at his apartment. 

“Hold on,” Yugyeom cut in. “You’re not dating Jinyoung, you’re just sleeping together? Like… friends with benefits?” 

You shrugged. “Yeah. We were both lonely and trying to get over feelings for other people, so we figured…” 

Sana was rubbing her temples, clearly having a tough time coming to terms with this revelation. “Just sleeping together?”

“Yeah. Why is that so hard to believe? People do it all the time.”

“Uh, no. I don’t know anyone that started sleeping with their friend of ten years so they can get over their crush, also of ten years. This is possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows together. “Okay, it’s really not that bad. It’s casual, we're just having fun.”

“Are you telling her that or yourself?” Jackson interrupted. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You held your hands up. “This is exactly why we didn’t tell anyone. We knew you’d all be judgmental and worry that I’m going to get hurt-“

“Maybe you aren’t the one we’re worried about!”

The entire table fell silent, all eyes on Sana. Including the trivia host, who’d just announced that the correct answer to the last question had been Forrest Gump. 

When the chatter started to pick up again and another team was crowned the winner, you shook your head, confused. 

“What do you mean? Why would you be worried about Jinyoung?”

You looked around at your friends, but nobody would meet your eyes. Jackson looked especially tortured, clearly conflicted with his loyalty to you and Jinyoung separately. 

Finally, Sana sighed, relaxing back into her seat. “A few years ago, when you had gone home for your mom’s birthday, we all went out one night. The four of us, Jinyoung, and Yeri. Those two started bickering about an hour in, and Yeri ended up leaving. So Jinyoung got absolutely hammered, and we went to some shady pizza place to sober up. Before we even got our pizza, he told us how he’d liked you since middle school, but was ready to finally give up because you were obsessed with Jaebeom and you’d never see him that way. He vowed to get over you if it was the last thing he did.” 

You could only blink at your friend. It all sounded… not right. How could he have liked you without your knowledge? When had he stopped liking you? It made no sense. 

“But he was with Yeri then,” was all you could say. 

“Yes, he was,” Jackson replied. “And he’d been texting you all night before she got pissed off and left.” 

It had never, not even once, occurred to you that Jinyoung had feelings for you. Certainly not before you started having sex. You’d been friends, and he had never crossed any lines with you, even after he and Yeri broke up. 

“I don’t…” you shook your head, staring down at Jinyoung’s last message. 

I miss you. 

“Listen, I don’t know when he stopped liking you, but this just… doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Sana reached for your hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. “Is it worth risking your friendship?” 

The question had entered your mind more times than you could count in the last two months. But after a while, you’d just gotten used to it. You liked the bubble you lived in, where you could just enjoy the present without worrying about the consequences. 

Your heart felt like it was going to drop into your stomach.

“If it helps,” Bambam said, placing a comforting hand on your wrist. “I was blacked out that night and had no fucking clue until just now.” 

It didn’t help. You just shook your head again, reaching down between your feet for your purse. “I need to go. Sorry. I just need…”

You never finished your sentence. Jackson let you out of the booth and you rushed out of the diner, greeted by the warm summer air. You placed your hand between your ribs, willing your heart to slow its pounding.  

So, he’d liked you. For a while. At least until a few years ago—while he was with Yeri. Why hadn’t he ever said anything? 

Would it have mattered? You had tunnel vision for Jaebeom until this whole arrangement had begun, and you’d never seen Jinyoung in that way before that first night. You knew yourself, you would have let him down easy and continued chasing after Jaebeom. 

You started to walk in the direction of your apartment. It was a long walk, but it was doable. You needed the time to clear your head. 

More puzzle pieces started to fall into place the more you thought about it. 

He and Jaebeom had been so close, like brothers, until you graduated high school. Then Jinyoung started getting a sour look whenever you asked about the other boy and you learned to avoid the topic. 

Yeri had never liked you. It hurt your feelings the entire span of their relationship, because you couldn’t figure out why. If she knew how Jinyoung felt, or even suspected it... of course she wouldn’t like you. 

As much as you wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding, you couldn’t deny the truth staring you in the face. Jinyoung had liked you for years, and you had no idea. 

You needed to figure out your own heart. You didn’t have feelings for him, you were sure of it. It was just biological—good sex messed with your head, that’s all. 

And yet…

The only thing that made sense was that Jinyoung no longer felt this way about you. He’d decided to get over you, and you knew he accomplished any goal he set his mind to. 

You should have felt relief, but you didn’t. You couldn’t quite identify the sadness in your heart, the utter hollowness at missing something you never knew you could’ve had. 

When you finally got back to your apartment, both your mind and your feet were tired. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, wiping off your makeup and brushing your hair into a ponytail. 

Maybe it was your exhaustion. Maybe you were tired, in general, of holding that barrier up. The one thing separating you from what could either be the best thing that ever happened to you, or soul crushing heartbreak.

As you crawled into bed and pulled your knees up to your chest, you finally let the wall come down and held the feeling that fell into your palms safe and close to your heart like a firefly. Just this once, you recognized the terrifying truth you’d been denying for weeks.

You were falling in love. 

[will-die-without-chai]

I have great taste!

A/N: This is my entry for Muskan’s 500 followers celebration! Congratulations again on this follower milestone Muski ( @thebookwormslytherin​ ) and I can’t wait to write for more such follower milestone celebrations. Also, thank you for hosting this!!!!! Love ya!.And forgive me for this less than subpar submission.

Also this is the first time I’ve tried writing for Sam Wilson so all feedbacks and criticism are most welcome! Hope I haven’t done too bad lol.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x desi!reader (she is not as desi as I wanted but whatevs)

Words: 2752

(College au, roomates au)

Warning: A couple of swear words (And this fic isn’t beta-ed...so)

Prompt: “You got a crush on me? Ew”

Summary: Y/N gets cheated on and had to move out of her ex’s boyfriend’s house. Luckily, Sam’s roomate is moving out as well creating a vacancy. Who knows what outcome staying with your friend can bring about? 

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

“I know I am stupid and I never should’ve moved in with him so soon” Y/N sniffled and rubbed her red puffy and tear filled eyes dry with the sleeve of the shirt she had on as she whispered and hiccupped through berating herself after the revelation she had made that very morning. “But I cannot stay in that house Natasha! Not anymore! What do I do?” Natasha, ever concerned, patted her back, sympathy etched deep into her features whilst Y/N continued to whisper her despair into the table top where her head lay. . 

Y/N had just that very morning discovered her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend with his tongue deep in some other person’s mouth, while naked, on the bed they shared. Y/N had been out for the night, studying with Natasha for the upcoming exams and had unexpectedly gone home early in the morning to grab some notes only to be met with the devastating sight.

Needless to say, Y/N bolted out of the very apartment she called home for the past few months, holding back the bile and the tears rising to surface rapidly and rushed back to Natasha’s place which was only a couple of blocks away to unleash the slew of tears and heartbreak.

The sound of the jingling of the lock and the shuffling of shoes against the hardwood announced the return of the boys who had left the girls the night before to  their own devices and had shifted themselves to do whatever it is that college boys do. Steve, Sam and Bucky certainly hadn’t anticipated the sight before them and already had their hackles raised, ready to have a faceoff with whatever had caused unease to their friends, but instantly settled down when Natasha motioned them to. Y/N also had significantly been drawn out of her crying stupor at their entrance.

The boys had the decency to not pry into the matters and let things be told to them, they had learned from previous experiences after all. Nat looked at Y/N and she nodded.

“Y/N went to her apartment this morning and saw Rumlow sticking his tongue deep into someone’s throat. So…” The room went into an uproar and chaos ensured as if all hell had broken loose. A chorus of “Damn it” and “I’ll fuck him up” and certain more colorful words were heard, which were then stopped and the rage was coaxed down by one menacing gaze from Natasha and a tearful sob from Y/N.

Steve immediately found his place beside Y/N and held her under the crook of his arms, hugging her tightly and Bucky and Sam settled for sitting across from them, sympathy and rage and sorrow in equal measures creeping into their features as she once again resumed crying into Steve’s shirt.

After loads of incomprehensive mumbling and sobbing till her throat felt like sandpaper and she could go no further due to exhaustion, Y/N raised her head to face the rest of the group around her. “Now that I have sufficiently rubbed tears and snot all over Steve’s clothes” She snorted causing chuckles to emanate from other’s mouths, “I have to figure out where I am going to stay, given my imminent homelessness.”

“Stay here!  I can crash on the sofa, you can take the room. Nat and Buck already sleep in their room.” Steve piped in from beside her. Bucky nodded in agreement as did Nat.

A small frown took over her face. “No, no” She shook her head. “I can’t. You three are already… I can’t make you sleep on a couch in your own house, Stevie. And I cannot couch crash with the amount of stuff I have. I am definitely not going to let that asshole keep my furniture. They’re too cute and costed a fortune” This was enough to cause smiles to spread on their faces.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky cheered on.

“Yeah so I need more permanent options.”

“What about Tony? We can talk to him—“

“Not Tony!” Y/N cut Bucky off mid sentence. “I am not going to stay with Tony for the same reason Steve won’t. He wouldn’t accept rent and I’ll feel guilty and highly uncomfortable living in that state of art house. How the fuck do you have sex there Steve? Aren’t you afraid you’ll break something?” Steve turned red at the mention of his sex life and Bucky and Sam snickered like a schoolgirl. Natasha, noticing the very apparent discomfort cleared her throat pointedly.

“What about your old apartment?”

 “I think the landlord already rented it to someone else.”

Sam, who had been silent thus far finally decided to speak up, “Riley is moving out in a couple of days. I haven’t looked for anyone yet and I am sure I can’t afford the rent by myself.” He looked at her meaningfully.

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Of course! Oh you’re a savior Sammy!” She jumped up to hug him and sagged in relief when he wrapped his hands around her.

“Yeah, yeah.” He tried to say nonchalantly but the tender kiss he placed on the top of her head that was buried into his side and the tense look he shot at Natasha who had been wiggling her eyebrows at him betrayed his emotions to the rest of the occupants of the room if not to the object of the emotions.

~~

All of Y/N’s stuff had been picked up and packed into the second-hand pickup truck Bucky owned. ‘It has a certain amount of personality’ he had said when buying it against the wishes of everyone around him. Certain choice words had been spat at Rumlow and papers had been thrown at his face dramatically and tears had been held back satisfactorily. Sam had to be contained to avoid him throwing punches and the party had been successful at extracting all important things from the apartment, furniture included.

It didn’t take much time for Y/N to settle into her new living space. She was fairly familiar with the apartment given all the time she previously spent there trying to make sense of her chemistry notes with Sam. And even though it was a house previously lived in by a couple of boys, it was surprisingly very clean. Her furniture, after a lot of moving it around was satisfactorily placed and dare she say complemented the preexisting stuff in the house very well. (The blue of the couch matched the gray of the curtains Sam had picked very well. He did have a good taste after all!)

It took merely 2 months for them to settle into a nice routine. Sam, the early riser, was responsible for breakfast. Pancakes or waffles or eggs and bacon. He was a masterful breakfast cook and Y/N was forced to adopt healthy eating habits after not much persuasion. Sam had replaced his caffeine fix with Chai*. Although chai was left to be Y/N’s department of expertise. He had tried making it once and it ended with what looked like a grimace and a forced smile on Y/N’s face. Tea making was a talent he didn’t possess.

After her classes finished for the evening, Y/N would go and hang out in the café Sam part-time worked at so they could head back home together. Dinner was on Y/N and her grandma who guided her through video calls had apparently taken a liking for Sam. He had definitely heard whispered conversations in a language he didn’t understand much of and his name being mentioned often. Anyhow, study nights were all the more easier when both the members of the group occupied the same house and there was no fear of notes getting mixed up and rushing over to each other in between lectures to exchange them back. . Life was a well oiled machine when lived with appropriate people, after all.

They had also adapted the system of movie nights. Both had found each other lacking in their own definition of pop culture and had decided to teach the other and make them a respectable member of society, wise enough to get popular references. Saturday nights were mostly unoccupied and hence were conveniently movie nights. Each picked one movie, unseen by the other on alternate weeks. And oh boy, it was an event.

The couch was loaded with throw pillows and blankets, temperature was brought down and hoodies were worn for utmost comfort. Popcorn was popped, candies were bought a plenty and if the occasion called for it, or the ambience of the movie, beer was welcomed. And on occasion, they even fell asleep on the couch (If their backs were witches, they would’ve been cursed by now).

One such night, after loud exclamations of ‘How could you not have watched it!’ and ‘She was my bi awakening!’ and ‘This would not be borne’, Pride and Prejudice was the movie they settled upon. By the end of the movie a half asleep Y/N had ended up draped halfway over Sam with her head comfortably nestled into the crook of his shoulders and neck, her every breath peacefully lulling Sam into the state of drowsiness. Sam knew from previous experiences aplenty that he would regret sleeping like this in the morning but he couldn’t be bothered right now. Future Sam could deal with a bit of back pain.

“It would be nice to have someone to tell you that they love you most ardently. I wish I could have someone tell me that they love me most ardently and mean it.” Y/N mumbled with her eyes closed.

“I will if you let me.” Sam subconsciously let it slip and then tensed up immediately when he realized what he had said. When he did not feel any reaction, he relaxed back again but not without a frown. He half wished she were awake and could listen to what he had said. At least that way it would have been out and on the table. It would also be terribly painful if she didn’t feel the same and ended up feeling uncomfortable around him.

It had taken a very long time for Y/N to again be comfortable and confident after her breakup. She was apparently very serious about the asshole and he had broken her heart. Good thing Sam reciprocated by breaking his nose! (Don’t tell Y/N though. She thinks Brock broke his nose when he fell down the stairs. This was not completely a lie… Sam did push him down the stairs as well. Don’t worry. There were just 5 steps)

Anyhow, it was getting tough for him to control his emotions around her. He couldn’t help but stare at her when she laughed so openly at his lame jokes. He couldn’t help but stare at her lips when she tasted his newest experimentation on pancake batter. He couldn’t help his eyes when they inadvertently went towards her table, when he was supposed to pay attention to the order in front of him at the café. He couldn’t help but deviate towards her at any given chance. He couldn’t help but savor all her little touches. And he was afraid that he was painfully obvious. If not to her then to everyone else around him.

All these thoughts kept encircling his brain and he fell asleep, clutching Y/N a little bit closer than before, burying his nose further into her hair. Morning came and Sam surprisingly woke up alone with a blanket draped over him. Generally he was the first to wake up. He got up and followed the noises coming from the kitchen to see Y/N making breakfast. And of course, chai. Some old Hindi song played on the radio softly and he could see the hello kitty apron he had bought for her as a joke hastily thrown on, its back untied.

It was a picture of serenity, to an outsider maybe. But Sam knew there was something off. Y/N getting up this early, cooking and old hindi songs playing was a deceptive picture that screamed something was bothering her.

“You cooking something, hon?” He said out loud as he made his way to the dining table. Y/N jumped slightly at being startled and then nodded enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically. Sam narrowed his eyes. Without turning to face him Y/N explained further. “You were asleep. I woke up early and thought I could make something. It’s been days since we’ve had poha*, no?”

Sam kept quiet and decided to take out plates and set the table instead. They kept working silently but the silence was too heavy. It settled over his skin thickly and Sam didn’t like the feeling. Once they were sat on the table Sam decided to bring up the subject again, the silence and awkwardness becoming a little troubling.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You know you can share it with me. I am here.” He said, placing a comforting hand on hers. Her eyes that were focused on her plate shot unto his face.

“I heard what you said last night.” She blurted out, eyes still trained at him. Sam was stunned into silence and his heartbeat rose rapidly. It was incredibly unexpected and sudden and Sam was caught off guard. Incredibly so.

“You- you did.” He stammered stupidly. Y/N nodded. “I was on the verge of drifting off and I heard it and I-“ She fell silent, her eyes slipped to where his hand rested on hers, her teeth automatically trapping her bottom lip between them.

“I like you. Like like you. I have, since the day we met at Steve’s party and you went on and on about tea and how to make it and how coffee could never compare and you weren’t even drunk!” Y/N let out a chuckle at that and Sam continued. “I couldn’t help but fall for you and I looked for reasons to spend time with you, snatching every opportunity to have you around me. I know I am sounding like the cheesiest cheesy person, like a kraft’s dinner but add cheddar to it level of cheesy, but you being happy makes me so fucking happy! And that’s the point. I can bear to see you be sad and if this makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. I will. I won’t mention this ever again and we could go back to being us and you aren’t obligated to reciprocate my feelings or anything. But I think I don’t have it in me to keep it in anymore.”

He finally looked up to look at her and maybe take a breath after the rant he just had in one go and found her still staring at their hands. Assuming that it made her uneasy, he proceeded to take it away, his heart sinking. But he was stopped by her fingers grasping at his sleeves.

She peered from under her tear laced lashes to look at him. “You have a crush on me? Ew” she let out a sound that sounded like something between a sob and a snort and a smile spread across her lips. “I thought you had better taste.” She joked albeit a bit bashfully.

Sam felt a weight lift off his chest and the urge to bang his head against an iron pole reduced significantly. “Hey, I have great taste! I picked up those gray curtains that go so well with your blue couch and that you love very much. Also I introduced you to real maple syrup and took you away from that ‘aunt jemima’ bullshit you were poisoning yourself with.”

“Hey I am a college student who earns just enough to fulfill my bare necessities so give me a break! That shit is costly. And I was the one who introduced you to Mukesh*, okay?” She held his hand now and intertwined her fingers with his.

“Goes to say how good my taste is.”

“I like you too.”

Silence fell over them once again as they giddily looked at each other and held hands, the chai long gone cold and the poha turned a little stiff. But the silence now was palatable, pleasant even.

~~

A couple days  later, chaos ensued again in their little group when Y/N planted a sound kiss on Sam’s lips before separating from the group with a quick cheeky ‘goodbye’ to go to her class. The chorus of ‘How?’ and ‘When?’ and ‘I want details’ and a quiet call of ‘who won the bet then’ left hanging in the air for Sam to answer.

~~

*Translations:

Chai: Chai is tea ofcourse. But its also more than tea. Its an concoction made of tea, water, milk, sugar and spices all meticulously brought to a boil and then heated some more. It is a thing that requires practice, but also some magic.

Poha: Poha is a breakfast food made of flattened rice flakes sauted with onions and other vegetables and spices, according to one’s preferences hich is served warm with a dash of lemon and a sprinkling of coriander (Varun Thakur’s stand up, anyone?) 

Mukesh: A very illustrious, very very famous indian musician from the 60′s and 70′s. He had the voice of an angel.

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Hope this was a bearable read! As said earlier, feedback and criticism is always welcome!

Tagging: @spiderrpcrker​ @officially-tonynat-shrine​ @hoeticulture​ @dragoncreek319​ @severelytinyeagle​ @lgbtonystarks​ @cynical-ravenclaw​ @fandom-is-my-middle-name​ @emilyshurley​ @fiovske​ @bispiderson​ @moonbeambucky @revengingbarnes @shurisneakers @kuuhakublank00 @stardustandbucky @infj-slytherclaw @anjali750 @your-villainous-neighbour @viktorkrumn

[hold-me-sickfics]

Soooo I did a thing😊💙 this is the first chapter of a Yoonmin Vampire fic that I’m trying out☺️ I hope y’all like it!

TW: Alcohol mention, past parental death mention, food, blood mention, supernatural creature mention (if I missed any please let me know!💙)

Also, I promise there will be sickfic/hurt fic involved in most of the upcoming chapters💙

“Dang Jimin, how long do you take to get dressed in the morning? I’ve been down here for at least a half hour already, and your light was on when I woke up.” Jungkook was halfway done with his cereal, and was scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

“Perhaps your lack of effort is the reason you look like a stray dog then?” Jimin chuckled, grabbing a protein shake out of the refrigerator.

Jungkook just rolled his eyes. The two almost always had some sort of playful, fighting banter going on. As brothers, it was essentially a given.

Jimin turned around to face the counter.

“Oh no, please don’t do this.” Jungkook whined.

“Do what?”

“Wear that stupid Twilight t-shirt again. We’re seniors Jimin, you gotta let all this vampire vs. werewolf crap go.”

“And why is that?” Jimin knew Jungkook didn’t like his… tiny obsession with vampires. But, in all actuality, it really wasn’t as bad as Jungkook made it out to be.

“Because it really isn’t fitting for a guy who’s eighteen to have a room covered in posters and about ten journals with Edward Cullen fanfictions filling the shelf.”

“You’re just jealous because you couldn’t write if you tried.”

Jungkook looked fed up. Jimin took a sip of his shake before speaking again.

“Quit your whining. If I didn’t write so much, you wouldn’t have passed English last year. I’m still waiting on my fifty bucks for writing that essay over The Raven.”

“I’m working on it. Money is tight Jimin.”

“More like you couldn’t keep yourself from buying a few rounds for the band last week hm?” Jimin felt the same way about Jungkook’s band as Jungkook felt about Jimin’s writing. Both were deemed useless and a waste of time by the other.

“At least I made the money that I spent.” Jungkook put a lot of emphasis behind the word “made.”

Jimin didn’t respond. He too made his own money, but Jungkook didn’t view earning money through literary submissions to count as actually “making money.” He instead, went out to the car, going ahead and loading his bags. Jungkook was close behind, locking the door as he came out.

“Want me to drive or do you want to?” Jungkook asked, spinning the keys on his finger.

“You can. I’ve got some reading to finish up before we get to school.” What Jimin actually meant was that he had a fanfiction to finish.

“Aight. How’d your bio test go the other day?” Jungkook asked, turning the key.

Underneath their little bickering sessions, both boys would do anything for each other. Since their parents passed a few months ago, they were basically each other’s only support.

“It was decent. I don’t think I did great, but I’m like 82.93 percent sure I passed.”

Both boys laughed. Jimin had a tendency in situations like these to think up these certain percentages with decimals because, well why not? But, they were always quite funny when he voiced them in conversations.

“That’s better than me with my literature quiz. I think I made a forty something.”

Jimin looked down at his screen, reading the words that someone like himself had thought up and published on Ao3.

“Edward’s fingers cascaded down Bella’s back as he held her close, knowing she was his, and his alone.

“You don’t understand Bella. I’d be nothing without you.”

Bella sighed.

“You shouldn’t think those thoughts. You have me. There’s no reason to consider any other situations.”

Edward couldn’t help himself but to ponder on what his miserable existence had been like before her. He held her, trying desperately to forget.”

“You know,” Jimin started as Jungkook stopped at a stop light.

“Hm?”

“Some of these are really good, and some of these are the stupidest, cheesiest things i’ve ever beheld.”

“B-beheld? Jimin… You need a break.” Jungkook laughed.

“For the first time, I think you might actually be right.” Jimin chuckled, putting his phone up.

When they arrived at school, Jungkook went on to his class and Jimin went on to his. As he sat down at his desk, he observed that the entire floor was muddy with the shoeprints of all the students who’d come in before him. He glanced out the window, seeing the sky already a dark blue. It must have rained last night… and probably would rain more soon. Where he lived, it seemed that the weather was either raining, snowing, or storming at all times. He must have not noticed it on the way since he’d been so enthralled by his phone and then the conversation with Jungkook.

As usual, the upcoming storm inspired him, and he pulled out his notebook and ink pen from his bag, writing down a few words from an idea that had been looming around his mind since he’d gotten out of bed this morning.

“ “Ahhagghhh! It- It hurts, Jimin… “ He squirmed under Jimin’s light touch. As much as Jimin hated it, he had to keep cleaning the wound. Much like humans, vampires weren’t protected from injury or infection. It was just that they had the advantage of not being able to die from it. “I’m so sorry baby. I promise I don’t mean for it to hurt.” Jimin’s eyes softened in sympathy. “W-wait…. I- I need a break please… please Jimin just… mmmhhh…” The vampire reached his hand out, clearly pained. Jimin stopped, taking his hand. “It’s okay. You’re alright-”

And then he hit a mental block. What would he name this character? He thought for a moment, and then the teacher came in and put his creativity on hold.

“Good morning everyone. It looks to be a rather dark and dreary day outside, so I thought we could go over something to match. Have any of you ever heard of the Salem Witch Trials?”

Jimin had to admit, he was irritated at the fact that he couldn’t continue his story yet, but if it was over something as interesting as this sounded, he’d let it slide. This was the only class that didn’t get on his nerves. The professor, Kim Namjoon, had a way of making things sound way more captivating than they would normally be.

Namjoon and Jimin were on a first-name basis. This wasn’t the first time he’d had Namjoon as a teacher. In fact, this was the second time. However, only during the “summer tutoring program” had they found out they shared an interest in the mythical, and magical. They’d discussed the idea of ghosts, spirits, vampires, werewolves, you name it, all on a literary basis of course. Neither of them believed in the last two, but it was certainly fun to consider them.

However, as interested as Jimin was, his mind wandered during the lecture. He first thought of other side ideas for his fanfictions at home, and then he thought of what he needed to do when he got home. That’s when he had the idea.

“Min Yoongi.”

That was the name. It was almost as if a low, husky voice had spoken to him. He had to admit, he liked it. He scribbled down the name on the margin of his workbook page, and then made a point to keep listening to Namjoon’s lecture.

[buoyantsaturn]

and they were quarantined (1/1)

summary: oh my god they were quarantined 

word count: 6547

read on ao3

Nico was sick of his friends texting him about some pasta shortage in Italy. Haha, very funny, the pasta country is out of pasta,  whatever.  He was busy, and he didn’t have time to explain the difference between  penne lisce  and  penne rigate  - and  no,  he would  never  eat  penne lisce. 

Nobody ever bothered to tell him what the pasta shortage was  really  about, and he had to find out for himself when he tried to go out to buy a pack of cigarettes and the security guard told him they were under quarantine. How had Nico managed to live through an entire day of quarantine without even realizing? He blamed it on never leaving his apartment. Still, maybe his friends could have sent him a warning text to let him know to stock up for the next however many weeks.

Whatever. He liked being holed up in his apartment, anyway.

Besides, how long could they really trap people inside their homes? A couple of days? He could ration his half-pack of cigarettes for that long, easy. 

Nico decided he would let himself have two more cigarettes that night - one before dinner and one before bed - so just as the sun started to set he stepped out onto the balcony with a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his hands. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, then leaned back against the balcony rail, choosing to stare back into his apartment rather than at the one across the courtyard from him.

He had about two seconds of peace before someone behind him called out, “You know those things will kill you.”

Nico glanced over his shoulder, noticing for the first time a man on the balcony behind him. “I hear the plague is going to anyway, so I might as well enjoy this while I can.” He turned around and rested his elbows on the railing, mirroring the position of the man across from him. He nearly choked on his next inhale. 

The man was  beautiful  - tan and blond and he probably had at least a foot on Nico. His hair looked like it was glowing, but Nico wondered if that was just because of the sunset - either way, he finally understood why that time of day was called  golden hour.  The lighting made this handsome stranger look like a Renaissance painting with his perfect face and lopsided smile and his balcony practically overflowing with greenery. 

“Well, since we only have a few weeks to live, I’m Will. It’s nice to meet you.”  God,  even his  voice  was nice to listen to, the words slow and drawn out with the slightest hint of a southern drawl. Nico could  hear  the smile in his voice. “I moved in a couple of months ago, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, uh…?”

Nico blew out a breath of smoke. “Nico. I don’t get out much.”

Will’s smile somehow became  brighter.  “Well, Nico, I hope we get to see more of each other before we succumb to  the plague.”

Nico took one last drag before stubbing out his cigarette. “Yeah, see you.”

  Two days later, Nico was still rationing his cigarettes with even more care than he was rationing his food. He started taking his smoke breaks at odd times during the day just to curb his cravings, and had definitely started losing sleep from his restlessness. Even still, regardless of when Nico went outside to smoke - as long as the sun was up - Will would be sitting on his own balcony. He was always reading, sometimes from novels, sometimes from textbooks, and he would always greet Nico with a smile. 

“You know, I’m glad you’re lessening your nicotine intake, but I gotta say, it kinda sucks that I’m seeing you less and less,” Will told him one morning - earlier than Nico would normally be up, but he’d hardly slept the night before.

Nico choked on his inhale, and coughed before he could reply. “Well, some of us have jobs to get back to.”

Will rested his chin in his palm and grinned - did he ever  stop  smiling? It was starting to get annoying. Or maybe that was the flutter in Nico’s heart every time he saw it that was annoying him. “And I think you’re running out of cigarettes.”

Nico blew smoke in Will’s direction. “And what about it? It’s not like you’ve got a pack stashed somewhere that you could give me.”

“No, but I can give you some coping strategies for when you run out.”

Nico stubbed out his cigarette on the railing. “Thanks, but no thanks. I can cope just fine on my own.”

“I’ll be here if you change your mind!”

Nico offered him a two-fingered salute before he turned on his heel and went back inside. 

  Okay, so, Nico did  not  bring his laptop out onto the balcony that night just because Will sounded lonely. It was  warm  for once  ,  and there was a  full moon,  and Nico can do whatever he wants whenever he wants, okay? Except for, apparently, leave his apartment to buy more cigarettes.

He also was not repeatedly glancing over at Will’s apartment to see if he was coming outside - as far as Nico could tell, most of Will’s lights had been shut off, and he feared that he might have missed his chance to talk to Will some more (except that he had no intention of doing so anyway, so shut up about it). 

Just when he was getting back into the swing of things on his current project, he heard the distant sound of a sliding door opening, and then Will’s voice saying, “Oh, sure, you bring your work to me just as I’m heading to bed.”

“Who says I brought my work to you? Maybe I just wanted a change of scenery,” Nico argued. He glanced up to get a look at Will - he’d changed into a loose t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.  Cute.  It kind of made Nico wonder why Will ever bothered to change out of his pajamas, since he clearly wasn’t going anywhere, and if he could look that soft and comfortable and adorable all the time, then why wouldn’t he?

Will hummed. “I suppose that’s possible, but I just think it’s interesting that you finally brought your laptop outside after mentioning just a few hours ago that you had work to do. So, looking for company?”

“Like I said, I just wanted a change of scenery,” Nico lied.

“Sure you did.” Will took a seat in the singular lawn chair he had on his own balcony and angled it so that he could stare up at the moon when he propped his feet up on the rail. “Don’t you wish you could have a little more human interaction?”

“I thrive in solidarity.”

Will snorted. “You’re funny.”

Nico looked at him with a confused pout. He barely stopped himself from asking,  Are you flirting with me?  because he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know the answer. Instead, he tried to find some way to change the subject before Will beat him to it.

“So, what are you doing, anyway?”

“Huh?”

“You’re working, right? What do you do?”

Oh, thank god, an easy topic. Nico hardly had to think if he was just talking about work. “I’m a graphic designer. Freelance. And to answer your earlier question,  again,  I have more than enough human interaction over email. And trust me, if you had to talk to these people every day, you’d isolate yourself, too.”

“No, I don’t think I would,” Will replied. His head rolled to the side so that he could look at Nico as he spoke. “I’m too much of a people-person.”

“Oh. So quarantine must be killing you, then,” Nico said before he could just shove his actual foot in his mouth. 

“Eh, only a little bit. See, I have this neighbor that comes to talk to me sometimes.”

When Nico looked up, Will was grinning at him once again. “Oh, you mean me.”

Will’s laugh was  musical.  Nico didn’t even know what that  meant  but he knew that was the only way to describe it. It gave Nico goosebumps - or maybe that was just the cool breeze. “Yes, I mean you. Seriously, it’s like everybody else in this building  likes  being cooped up all the time. I think I’ve spent more time outside than in over the last few days, and aside from you, I think only one person has even opened a window.”

“What do you do?”

“Oh, water my plants, read until I can’t see straight--”

“No, not that,” Nico said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, like, what do you do?  Like, for work.”

“Oh! I’m a med student. Yeah, classes usually take up almost all of my day, so I’m paying the rent here on my student loans, which I know isn’t  great,  but it’s better than being twenty-five and living in a dorm somewhere.”

Nico tried to do the math in his head - did doctors go to school for seven years, or eight? “So, you’re basically a doctor, right?”

“Almost!” Will shot Nico another grin. “This is supposed to be my last semester, but with schools shut down, it’s hard to say if they’ll let me graduate yet. Which sucks, because it’s stuff like this that made me want to become a doctor, you know? I just wish I could be out there helping people, instead of getting stuck in quarantine, all alone. Seriously, I think I might’ve gone crazy already if it weren’t for you.”

“It’s been, what, three days? I don’t think it works like that.”

“Okay, maybe not, but the only other interactions I’ve had in the past couple of days have been virtual lectures, and that hardly counts.”

“Oh, gross.”

Will chuckled. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.” There was a short pause, and after that moment of silence, Will rose to his feet with a sigh. “Well, I really should head to bed.”

“Why?” Nico glanced at the corner of his laptop screen. “It’s not even ten o’clock.”

Will leaned his elbows on the rail. “Yeah, but I have lectures starting at eight, and I need to make sure I’m awake enough to pay attention by the time those start. I should let you get back to work, anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nico.”

As Will returned inside, Nico’s gaze dropped back to his laptop screen. It had gone black a while ago when the computer fell asleep, and Nico didn’t bother waking it back up. He had just come out there for Will, anyway.

  Nico only saw Will in passing the next day. He saw Will watering his plants just as Nico was waking up, but was back inside his own apartment by the time Nico had stepped out onto his balcony. 

He didn’t have any company as he smoked his last cigarette. 

  He thought a lot of his symptoms were mostly psychosomatic - just the simple knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to have a cigarette the next day was keeping him up at night, leaving him too tired to concentrate on his work all morning. By noon, he had a dull headache at the base of his skull, and he couldn’t really tell if he was hungry or nauseous, so rather than trying to figure it out, he decided to get some fresh air. Maybe talking to Will would lift his mood a little.

Nico stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of fresh air, and immediately started coughing. Just because he hadn’t smoked in around eighteen hours didn’t mean his lungs were back to normal.

“You alright?” a voice called out to him, and Nico offered his middle finger before he realized that it was probably Will. 

Once he stopped coughing, Nico muttered a, “Sorry,” that Will likely couldn’t hear. It was the thought that counted, right?

“You know, it’s a cough like that that should be enough to convince you to quit,” Will said, sounding like his mind was somewhere else. When Nico looked over, his nose was buried in a textbook. “That is, if the quarantine doesn’t force you to quit, first.”

Nico rolled his eyes. Was Will always this annoying, and Nico never noticed because he was too distracted by a pretty face? “Okay, never mind.” He turned on his heel and stepped back inside.

“Wait, Nico, come back!” Will called just before Nico shut the door between them. This time when he flipped Will off, he meant it.

 A few hours later, after a meal and a nap, Nico went back outside to apologize. Don’t get him wrong, he still felt like garbage and his headache was somehow even worse than before, but he knew that Will didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Just because Nico was an asshole didn’t mean that he should take it out on an innocent guy.

He stepped out onto the balcony and hissed when the sun hit his eyes, aggravating his headache.

“You look like shit,” Will told him, and something about the tone of his voice made Nico feel even worse - there was no concern, none of the usual cheerfulness that Will usually expressed to Nico. It sounded more like he was forcing himself to stay calm, remain neutral, as if he was guarding himself against Nico. And if that didn’t make Nico feel  worse.

Nico groaned and leaned against the railing, crossing his arms and resting his forehead on them. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Will asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

Nico groaned louder. “You  know.”

“No, I don’t.” Will frowned at him as he stood. “Are you sick? Do you have a fever? A cough?”

“I ran out of cigarettes.”

“Aw, Spooky,” Will said. “How are you feeling? How can I help?”

Nico lifted his head. “What did you just call me?”

And there was Will’s smile again, so bright it hurt Nico’s eyes to look at. “Spooky. You know, you scared me half to death a couple of times when you came out to smoke because you’re so quiet. I looked up and you were just  there.  You  spooked  me, get it?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Oh, you’re  so  funny.”

“Thank you. So, what’s up?”

He sighed and rubbed at his temples. “Headache, mostly.”

“Did you take anything for it?”

“Took a nap.”

Will snorted. “I meant, like, Tylenol.”

“Oh. No.”

“You should do that. And drink a lot of water. I’m gonna look up what I can do to help.”

Nico walked back inside and poured himself a glass of water before he started searching through his cabinets for painkillers. When he couldn’t find anything in the kitchen, he went into the bathroom, but still didn’t have any luck. He took his glass of water outside and told Will, “I don’t have any Tylenol.”

“You don’t? Hang on, I’ll get you some.” Will jumped up from his seat and practically ran back into his apartment, returning in less than a minute. “Hey, Spooks, catch.”

Suddenly, something was flying at Nico’s face, and he barely had the time to duck before the pill bottle hit the back of his chair. “What the hell, Will?”

“I said catch!”

“I’m gay, I can’t catch!”

“Sorry, I didn’t know!”

Nico picked up the bottle. “Isn’t this, like, cross-contamination, or something? We’re breaking quarantine code right now.”

“I’m sure this is fine. I mean, have you seen those videos of people all over the world, hanging out on their balconies?” Will asked. “They’re all, like, two feet apart from each other. There’s no way they  aren’t sharing things like this. If it makes you feel better, you can keep the bottle.”

“But what if you need it?”

“I think you need it more than I do.” Will shrugged. “Besides, just knowing that you’re feeling better will help me.”

Nico turned all of his attention to the pill bottle in his hands so that he didn’t have to look at the smile on Will’s face. He  had  to be flirting this time, right? He popped open the bottle and tossed a couple pills in his mouth, chasing them down with water. He kept his gaze down as he asked, “So, you said you were looking up ways to help?”

“Oh, yeah!” Will dropped himself back into his seat and picked up his laptop. “So, pretty much the only thing that will for-sure help you ease off of cigarettes is, like, a nicotine patch or nicotine gum, but since we can’t leave, that’s not really an option. The next best idea I’ve seen is basically to find a replacement for your addiction.”

“What’s  really  stopping me from walking out of this building right now to just buy more cigarettes?” 

Will raised a hand and started to count on his fingers. “Me, I’m guessing there’s still a security guard in the lobby, the patrol cars on the streets, and the fact that the nearest stores are almost definitely shut down.”

Nico sighed. “Alright, fine, I’ll do your dumb addiction replacement thing. How do I do that?”

“You just need to find a healthier addiction, or, like, anytime you get a craving, do one specific activity. This website has a few ideas. Let’s see… Can’t really go for a walk, can’t run errands, can’t go to the gym… You could take a nap, clean your apartment, take a shower, or…  Picture the future, smoke-free you, and bask in how much better you’ll feel once you achieve your goal.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll risk the patrol cars.”

  Nico spent a lot of time working to make up for all the time he spent zoned out when he was  supposed  to be working. He couldn’t exactly take a shower  every time  he wanted a cigarette, and he could only clean his apartment so many times in a day, so rather than finding some replacement like Will suggested, he just tried to force himself to work.

He emailed a few clients and reviewed a few of his half-finished projects, trying to decide which one to continue with when he heard a  tink, tink sound coming from his balcony. 

Nico looked over to see something hitting the window of his sliding glass door. He stood up, leaving his laptop on his desk as he went to investigate. He opened the door to find a small collection of pebbles scattered across his balcony, and looked up to see Will digging through one of his potted plants.

“Were you throwing rocks at my window?” 

Will’s head popped up, and he grinned when he saw Nico. “Spooky! Yeah, and it’s a good thing you noticed, because I think I’m out of rocks.”

“Did you need something?”

“It’s my lunch break, and I was hoping for some company,” Will told him. “So? Think you’ve earned a break yet today?”

Nico considered the few emails he’d sent and the handful he had yet to even open and decided, “Give me five minutes.”

  Will warned him that insomnia would be another symptom of nicotine withdrawal, and it unfortunately paired nicely with Nico’s usual insomnia, leaving him awake most of the night yet without any energy to work. When he finally eventually passed out, he hardly even noticed that he wasn’t still awake, because his dream seemed so realistic.

He was standing in his kitchen, washing the dishes he’d ignored the entire day before. He didn’t consider that this even could have been a dream, because he’d never had a dream that was  so boring.  If he hadn’t already been asleep, then the monotony of washing dishes probably would have knocked him right out.

Then, something...changed. He felt more relaxed, somehow, and he thought there might have been some soft music playing from somewhere else in the apartment. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the door to the balcony was open - maybe the music was coming from Will’s apartment. Maybe Nico should say hello.

Before he could move, someone was standing behind him, arms looping around his waist and a chin resting on his shoulder. “Aw, Spooks, you didn’t have to do the dishes,” Will said, pressing his lips to the side of Nico’s neck as he spoke. “You made dinner, you should’ve let me clean up.”

Nico didn’t reply - couldn’t seem to open his mouth - but Will didn’t mind. He gently tugged Nico away from the sink, across the apartment and out onto the balcony. “Come dance with me,” Will said as they stepped outside. 

The balcony was so crowded by chairs and plants that the two of them could barely stand together, and a quick glance across the courtyard revealed Will’s empty balcony. 

Will spun Nico around to face him, and Nico was finally able to get a good look at him, though something wasn’t quite right. He didn’t have enough freckles, or maybe his hair wasn’t parted to the right side. And was Will really  that  much taller than him? 

“You know, I don’t think I’d mind getting stuck here with you again,” Will whispered, leaning down to rest his forehead against Nico’s. “Except this time it’ll be even better, since I get to touch you--” Will brushed his fingers against Nico’s cheek, “--and hold you--” his other arm tightened around Nico’s waist, “--and kiss you--” and he pressed his lips to Nico’s, and Nico could  feel  the pressure of the kiss, and he felt the  heat  of Will’s breath so close to him, and Nico  woke up.

He couldn’t manage to pull himself out of bed for another hour, and when he finally did, he went straight out onto the balcony. Will wasn’t there, but all of his plants crowded his balcony, leaving Nico’s bare aside from his single lawn chair and the small scattering of pebbles. Nico picked up one of the rocks, rolling it in his hand as he decided whether or not he wanted to throw it, but the sound of a glass door sliding open made up his mind for him.

Will stepped outside and asked, “Hey, Spooks, what’s up?”

Nico hesitated. Did he really want to talk about this, with Will of all people? “Does withdrawal give you...weird dreams?”

Will leaned against his railing. “A lot of things supposedly give you weird dreams. What happened?”

Nico felt his face heating up, so he dropped his gaze to look down at the courtyard below them. “It was just...really  real.  Like, I could hear music and...  feel  things. I don’t think I’ve ever  felt  in a dream before.”

Will hummed. “It might be the nicotine, it might not.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was prophetic.”

Nico felt himself flush.

“Do you think we could talk more later? I’ve got a paper to write, but… Lunch around noon, twelve-thirty?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

  A thunderstorm rolled in late that morning, leaving Nico to hope that the pounding rain would cease by lunchtime. However, by the time his stomach started to growl, it sounded as though the rain had picked up even more, and Nico’s heart sunk. He got up and made himself some lunch to eat at his desk as he continued to work, and on his way back to his desk, he peeked out the window at Will’s balcony. 

His plants had all been pulled away from the railing and closer to the building, probably so they didn’t get destroyed in the heavy rain. Taped on the inside of Will’s door was a piece of paper with a frowny face and a phone number written underneath.

Nico texted the number with a simple,  hey.

From: Unknown; Spooky?

Nico smiled down at his phone, his thumbs already firing off a response. 

  “I miss... oh man,  my Mama’s homemade fried chicken,” Will said, dropping his head back against his chair. “I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I would  kill  for some fried chicken right now.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the fried food type,” Nico told him. He kicked his feet up on the railing as he stretched back in his own chair, staring up at the cloudy sky.

“I’m Texan born and raised, baby,” Will said, his voice taking on a deep Southern drawl that had Nico’s ears burning. “My Mama could make a whole meal out of fried foods and it would be the best thing you’ve ever eaten. And the  cornbread.”  Will rubbed his hands over his face, and when he spoke again, the accent disappeared as if he’d wiped it away. “God, I just wish I could eat  anything  that I didn’t make for myself. I’m kind of a horrible cook.”

Nico tilted his head to watch Will between the rails. “When the quarantine is over, you should come over for dinner. I’ll cook you one of my favorites from when I was a kid.”

Will looked over at him and grinned. “It’s a date.”

  The only alcohol Nico had on hand was Fireball, meaning that every few minutes he found his lips burning and tongue numb from the cinnamon-alcohol mix and Will’s dumb idea to play drinking games. He didn’t know when the game was supposed to end - and he didn’t really want to drink the entire bottle in one sitting - but at least he’d gotten to know some interesting things about Will after he’d gotten tipsy enough to test the waters.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl,” Nico said, smirking when Will took a sip of his own - Captain Morgan, which he was drinking out of a cup, because he was apparently too  civilized  to drink straight from the bottle. 

“Never have I ever kissed a  boy,”  Will shot back, and Nico frowned as he drank, his heart sinking at the thought that he would probably never have a chance with Will, until the blond lifted his cup to his lips and took a drink. “I lied,” he said with a smirk of his own.

“Cheater. Never have I ever...uh, I dunno, willingly watched a reality TV show.”

“Never? Really? But some of them are so good! And some of them are so dumb that they’re really fun to watch! We should watch one together!”

“How would we do that when we’re, like, fifteen feet apart?”

Will thought for a second. “You have Netflix, right?” When Nico nodded, Will continued, “Go get your laptop, we’re watching  Queer Eye.”

“Is that technically a reality show?”

“I think so. It’s real people, right? Why, have you seen it?” Nico shook his head. “Then let’s go!” Will jumped up and ran back into his apartment, so Nico did the same, returning to the balcony after a moment and settling back down. Will reappeared a moment later with his own laptop and said, “Okay, we’re just gonna start with the first episode, and I’m gonna count us down from three to hit play. Are you ready?”

Once Nico had the episode up and ready to go, he said, “Ready.”

“Okay. Three… Two… One…  Play!”  Nico hit the play button and the episode started, but across the courtyard, Will exclaimed,  “Oh no, it’s buffering!”

Nico paused the video right away. “We just gotta give it time to load. What do you wanna do while we wait?”

Will set his laptop on the ground and leaned his elbows on the railing, so Nico did the same. “Questions. Where did you grow up?”

“Born in Italy, grew up in Los Angeles. What’s your favorite candy?”

Will hummed. “Almond Joy. Same question.”

Nico wrinkled his nose up at Will’s answer. “Um, Snickers.”

“Oh!” Will jumped out of his chair. “I think I have some Snickers! Hang on a second.” Will ran back inside, leaving Nico to stare in his windows and watch him move around until he returned with a shiny wrapper in his hand. “Okay, I lied, it’s not Snickers. It’s Twix.”

“Oh my god, I lied, Twix is actually my favorite,” Nico said, eyes widening. 

“Okay, this is for you, Nico,” Will said, swinging his arm gently as though winding up for an underhand toss. He threw the candy, but the arc was too high, and it ended up landing on the roof. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you another one after quarantine, I promise.”

Nico was torn between mourning his lost Twix and laughing at Will’s horrible throw, but the alcohol that was really starting to hit him decided for him and he almost fell over from the force of his laughter. “That was  horrible!  I’m gay and I can throw better than that!”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try!” Will taunted.

“I don’t have anything to throw!”

“Then I guess I win.”

Nico frowned down at the rail of his own balcony, then at the distance between the two. “I’ll just throw myself then.” 

He managed to lift a leg over the railing before Will stopped him. “Nico, stop, it’s too far and we’re on the third floor. You’ll  die.  And I don’t want my Spooky turning into a scary skeleton just yet.”

Nico rolled his eyes, still straddling the railing. “Please, I bet you’re used to guys throwing themselves at you all the time, how is this any different?”

“Because you’re talking in, like, metaphor or something, but this is literal, and you could  literally die.”

Nico huffed and pulled himself back over the rail, losing his balance right at the end and falling into his chair. “Alright, fine, I won’t throw myself at you. I get it, you’re not interested. Let’s just watch the dumb show then.”

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

It took Nico more than a few moments to process Will’s words, and when he finally did, he looked up at Will with wide eyes. “Oh.”

Oh.

  Nico’s friends had set up a full day to connect and play video games, which left him stuck on the couch for the entire morning as Percy, Jason, and whoever else happened to jump into the server shouted about their gameplay. Through all the noise of button clicking and his friends’ exclamations, Nico didn’t hear his phone buzzing on the couch beside him and missed a few texts from Will. 

When his phone started ringing, Nico didn’t even think about it when he answered the call and immediately put it on speaker phone so that he could play hands-free - and, unfortunately, allow his friends to hear their conversation.

“Hey, Spooky, where are you?” Will asked.

“Who is that?” Jason asked through Nico’s laptop.

“Who the hell is  Spooky?”  Percy demanded.

“Shut up,” Nico told them, and tried to turn toward his phone without taking his eyes off his screen to say to Will, “Sorry, Will, I’m playing this--”

“Who’s Will?” Jason asked.

“I said shut up!”

“Um, are you coming outside for lunch?”

“Neeks, are you breaking quarantine?” Percy said.

“Dude, Hazel will kill you if she finds out,” Jason agreed.

“I’m not breaking quarantine--”

“We can just hang out later…”

“Will, hold on a second--”

“Aw, Jas, I think we’re interrupting a  date!”

Nico glared at his laptop. “It’s  not--”

“Just, uh, text me later when you’re not busy, okay, Spooks?”

“Will,  wait--  ” Nico glanced down at his phone, but the screen flashed  call ended.  “Dammit! Okay, when I find the two of you, I’m going to shoot you both to death.”

“Dude, are you ditching your boyfriend for us?” Jason asked. 

“He’s not--  Shut up!  Let me kill you so I can go eat lunch.”

Percy sang, “With your  boyfriend!”  before Nico emptied his gun into Percy’s character. “Shit!”

“Jason, get your ass over here so I can kill you!”

Chasing Jason around the map and finally killing him took about ten minutes, which was probably the best Jason had ever played in his life, and only succeeded in frustrating Nico even more. He left the game abandoned in the living room as he ran out onto the balcony, afraid that if he waited even another second, Will might disappear.

He exhaled his nerves when he saw Will sitting on his balcony, glumly eating a salad. He glanced up when Nico shut the door behind himself, but quickly dropped his gaze back to his salad. “Hey. How are your friends?” he asked, angrily stabbing at his salad.

Nico couldn’t stop a smile from blooming. “Are you jealous that I was playing dumb video games with some losers from high school instead of talking with you?”

Will’s cheeks grew red. “I’m not  jealous--”

“It’s okay if you are, ‘cause it’s kinda cute.” Will’s head shot up, and this time, it was Nico’s turn to blush. “That’s not… I didn’t really mean--” Nico averted his eyes and scratched at the back of his neck. “Um. How was your morning?”

Will stood, setting his bowl aside, and stepped up to the rail. “You know, maybe I was a little jealous after all.”

Nico glanced up. “Oh?”

“Mhm. I mean, if that’s what it takes for you to call me cute, I can act as jealous as you want.”

Nico grinned. “I think you’re cute either way.”

  Nico didn’t know what time it was, but he guessed that it had to be past midnight considering how high the moon was and how far the temperature had dropped. At some point, he and Will had each abandoned their chairs in favor of sitting on the balcony floors, leaning back against the uncomfortable railing so they could stretch out and look up at the stars as they shared quiet conversation.

Will sighed. “You know, I could really go for a hug right now. Or, like, any physical contact with another human being would be nice.”

“A stiff handshake after a boring business meeting,” Nico offered.

Will snorted. “Okay, you got me there. But… Just think about it for a second. I love talking to you, Nico, don’t get me wrong, but… Imagine, instead of sitting fifteen feet away from each other, both behind bars like we’re prisoners in our own homes--”

“Which we are.”

“For our own safety,  let me finish!” Will scolded, laughing. When he spoke again, his voice was much,  much softer - not in the sense that he was hard to hear, but in a way that made Nico’s heart melt and ache and nearly pound out of his chest all at the same time. “Imagine we’re… sitting on a couch, next to each other. Maybe we’re watching a movie, or maybe we’re just...enjoying each other’s company, you know? We’re holding hands, or...maybe I’ve got an arm around your shoulders. I wish I could just...wrap my arms around you, and hold you close. That just sounds...really nice right now, don’t you think?”

If Will didn’t stop talking to him like that, Nico was going to fall in love with him.

Or maybe he would anyway.

How did he get to the point where this man who was an actual stranger just two weeks ago was pulling at Nico’s heartstrings in a way that made him want to jump off his balcony just in the  hopes  that he might reach all the way across the courtyard, and  damn  his touch aversion because he would give Will all the hugs he could ever want and  more.

But instead of doing any of that, Nico sat on his balcony, staring longingly at that not-quite-stranger across from him, and swallowed around a lump of emotion in his throat. He croaked, “Yeah, that sounds...nice.”

  Nico took his lunch out onto the balcony, but after half an hour of waiting, Will never showed. He tried texting Will a few times, and when he didn’t receive a response, he searched his balcony for those pebbles Will had thrown at his windows all those days ago and tried his own hand. He missed, mostly, but one or two or them hit as far as he could tell, so he counted it as a win. Except for the fact that Will still didn’t appear. 

He brought his laptop out onto the balcony to do some work while he waited for Will to come outside, and stared at his screen for nearly an hour, periodically checking his phone for texts that didn’t come. When he finally paused to take in the day around him - the warm weather and the sun shining down on him - he heard something he hadn’t heard in quite a long time. 

There were people walking down the street. He could hear cars on the road, the distant honking of horns. There were  people out there,  and Nico was still stuck inside his own apartment.

He checked his group chats, and sure enough, the most recent texts were in celebration of the end of quarantine. 

His heart leapt at the realization that he could finally leave, he could finally see Will with less than fifteen feet between them, and just as quickly as the thoughts filled his head, the dread followed.

Will hadn’t been answering his texts, and probably for good reason. He had only been spending his time with Nico because there was no one else around to talk to. He hadn’t really been flirting at all - he was just  nice  and  funny  and  made Nico fall in love with him only to break his heart the next day.  

So instead of thinking about Will, Nico went back to work. At his desk. With the curtains shut.

And he still couldn’t make himself work.

After nearly an hour of staring at his computer screen, Nico gave up. He stood from his desk, grabbed his wallet and keys and started toward the door. He needed a cigarette.

Then, there was a knock on his door. Probably just someone from building management stopping by to let him know that he wouldn’t be held captive any longer and that he was free to come and go as he pleased. Well. He’d rather stay inside, thank you.

On the other side was Will - tall and blond and freckled and  beautiful - with his hands held behind his back and the brightest smile on his face.

“Hey, there, Spooky,” Will said, and revealed his hands, which held a small bag of fun-sized Twix bars. “I got you something.”

“What are you doing here?” Nico asked, his thoughts and doubts once again fighting for dominance in his head. 

“I believe you promised me a post-quarantine dinner date,” Will told him, and held out his arms. “Well, here I am!”

Nico took a hesitant step forward, then another, and then his hands were on Will’s cheeks, guiding him into a kiss - short and sweet, leaving no time to overthink or question himself. He didn’t even let himself pull away, instead choosing to wrap his arms around Will and hide his face in Will’s chest.

Will’s arms closed around him, comforting and warm, and while Nico tensed up at first, he relaxed almost immediately. 

“You were right,” Nico whispered, tightening his hold.

“About what?” Will asked, pressed his lips into Nico’s hair. 

“I didn’t really get it at the time, but… This human contact thing is pretty nice after all.”

Will grinned. “Just wait until we get to cuddling.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee to get me through quarantine?

[anubislover]

Not So Easily Replaced

(Ikkaku is pissed at how idiotic her crew has been while on Amazon Lily, so she does what she's always done - vents about it to Law to let off some steam. Unfortunately, when an argument breaks out between them, she's left to wonder if she's really appreciated by her nakama)

“Ugh!” Ikkaku growled, stomping into Law’s office with his second afternoon coffee and a selection of onigiri on a tray. Normally lunch delivery wasn’t her job, but since all the men had been “too busy” fawning over the women of Amazon Lily outside, the menial task had fallen to her; otherwise their workaholic captain wouldn’t eat. “I swear, Boss, if we don’t set sail soon, I’m going to strangle every guy on board!”

“Hmmm,” Law grunted absently as he poured over his notes. Ikkaku didn’t hold his monosyllabic response against him—he’d spent the past few days fixing up that Straw Hat kid and the Fishman. On top of that, the extensive treatments had basically depleted their medical supplies, Straw Hat’s freak-out upon waking up had wrecked more than half the operatory, and the Kuja had been pretty stingy with letting them replenish their food and water from the island, so she was sure he had plenty on his mind. The dark bags under his eyes attested to that.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to vent, though. Honestly, if she didn’t, she’d probably snap and end up going on a killing spree or something. Only Bepo and Law would be spared; the Mink had no interest in human women and thus hadn’t been an obnoxious Neanderthal, and Law had been too focused on keeping his patients and crew alive to drool over Boa Hancock.

Hell, when her captain was like this, Ikkaku could literally say anything and he wouldn’t even register it. It took a lot to snap Law out of his thoughts, and he’d never really seemed to mind when she ranted at him to let off steam. Mainly because once she was done, she was usually calm enough to take care of the situation herself, leaving Law in peace and with a non-murdered crew. A happy engineer made for a happy submarine, after all.

Setting the coffee and onigiri down onto the desk, Ikkaku continued, “They act like they’ve never seen a hot chick in their lives. I mean, what am I, chopped liver? They should be thanking the gods that they get to look at my gorgeous face every damn day!” The statement was accompanied by a dramatic toss of her curly hair. When Ikkaku felt strongly about something, she tended to gesticulate a lot, and this was no exception.

“Uh huh.”

She leaned against the edge of Law’s desk, hands waving about as she ranted. “Not that I want them to start lusting after me, but it hurts a girl’s pride, ya know? They could at least acknowledge what a hot piece of ass I am instead of acting like I’m some ugly hag.” She clenched her fist as she recalled how, just that morning, Shachi and Clione had basically given a lecture to the whole crew over breakfast about the superior physique the Kuja displayed compared to the average woman. There had been charts and everything, and to her dismay the silhouette for the “average” woman looked suspiciously like her.

“And that’s not the end of it!” she rambled on, smacking her hand against the desk for emphasis. “When I’m not ignored or insulted, they try to convince me to go out into the jungle to talk to the Kuja for them! I mean, I’m probably the one least likely to be killed outright, but it’s not guaranteed! They might fill me with arrows just for being affiliated with men! Are they really willing to risk my life like that?”

Her question didn’t get an answer—not because Law wasn’t paying attention, but because at that moment, her emotive gesticulating accidentally smacked her wrist into his coffee mug, knocking it over.

“Mother fucker!” Law shouted, scalding coffee spilling all over his crotch and papers.

“Oh my god, Law, I’m so sorry—”

“Will you shut up?!” he snapped, grabbing his nearby lab coat to frantically soak up the scalding coffee that had spilled across his crotch. “Don’t just stand there—get some towels!”

Nodding mutely, she ran to the en-suite bathroom and snatched up every towel she could find in the cupboard. “Here,” she said, trying to hand them to him so he could clean himself up.

“My desk, damn it! Save my notes!”

Immediately she swept the pile furthest from the spill to the floor and began patting down the desk, but she knew it was already too late; the coffee had completely soaked through several of the papers that had been strewn across the stainless steel surface.

“Law, really, I’m so sorry!” she apologized hoarsely, flinching as he turned the full force of his sleep-deprived glare upon her.

“Maybe if you’d fucking been watching what you were doing instead of ranting on and on, none of this would have happened!” he shouted, well and truly pissed. Not that she blamed him—a week’s worth of important medical and inventory notes was now a brown, sopping mess. On top of that, first-degree crotch burns would sour anyone’s mood, especially when they were only running on an average of three hours of sleep.

“It’ll be ok,” she assured, assessing the damage. To an average person, the mess was a disaster, but while the charts and notes that had been in the immediate spill zone were soaked through and ruined, many of the others could be salvaged thanks to Law’s powers. “Just Room the coffee out of the papers—”

“Do you have any idea how much time and effort you just flushed down the toilet?” he snapped, even as the familiar blue bubble filled the office. Drops of coffee were pulled from the sheets of paper like magic, but to Ikkaku’s dismay, much of the ink left behind was still smudged beyond recognition. “You’re lucky that wasn’t Mugiwara-ya’s medical file you just destroyed!”

“Law, really, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm him down. Her usually chill captain was far more volatile when stressed and sleep-deprived. “It was a stupid accident on my part. I’ll help you rewrite all of this.”

“Hell no,” he growled, gold eyes narrowing furiously, the tendons in his thin neck tightening as he ground his teeth together. “The last thing I need is you going on another stupid rant and ruining my notes again. Get the fuck out—I’ve got more important things to do than listen to you bitch and moan about how the guys aren’t paying attention to you.”

“Tha—that’s not what I’m angry about at all!” she snapped.

“Then what is your fucking problem?!”

“My problem is that the guys were being jackasses and I’m not appreciated around here!”

“Well if you don’t like it, leave!”

Ikkaku’s back stiffened, each syllable cutting into her heart like Law’s sharpest scalpel. Those words…it was the exact same thing her old boss would say whenever she complained about her asshole coworkers’ creepy leers or “accidental” groping. The greasy old mechanic was a sexist pig, but still the only one in that shit port that had been willing to take her on as an apprentice. It had always been an unspoken threat—if she left, no one else would hire her, so she could kiss her dreams of becoming a world-class engineer good-bye.

Trafalgar Law had changed that with his offer to join the Heart Pirates.

And now he was telling her to leave, too. To give up her dream, her nakama, and her home because she wasn’t willing to put up with a little sexism.

As if he could replace her in a heartbeat.

The thought hurt more than expected. She’d worked her ass off aboard the Polar Tang. For five years she’d toiled in the heart of the engine room, maintaining every little piece. She kept the gears turning, the motors humming, and the propellers running. Just from sound and the slightest vibrations through the ship, she knew exactly what was wrong with the engine at any given time.

Ikkaku had never asked for praise or recognition for her hard work—it was just her job. But she was as knowledgeable about the mechanisms of the submarine as Law was of the human body. She had always assumed he’d quietly acknowledged this fact and respected her for it.

Clearly, she’d been wrong.

She nearly screamed all this at him, but before she could open her mouth, the blue light of Law’s Room encased her, and in a blink, she was out in the hall, the cabin door slamming shut in her face.

Knowing better than to try and force her way back into his quarters, Ikkaku instead stormed down the steel hallway, fists clenched and muttering furiously to herself. Maybe she would leave. March right up to Boa Hancock and ask to join the Kuja. That would show them! She didn’t need Law, or the Tang, or men at all! She’d get along just fine without those jerks! Sure, Amazon Lily didn’t have any of the high-tech machinery she was used to, and working for a shichibukai wasn’t exactly something she was thrilled about, but at least they’d appreciate her, right? She had other skills—she was a hell of a tattoo artist, and was a damn fine shot, and could kickbox, and…

Her pace slowed as her heart forced her brain to accept the truth—she didn’t want to leave. She’d go crazy without machines and engines to work on. And sure, she was no slouch in a fight, but the Kuja were warrior women trained from birth. Ikkaku would look like a total weakling next to them.

And no matter how much the crew pissed her off, she wouldn’t trade her nakama for anything. Sure, they could be thoughtless jerks sometimes, but they could also be really sweet. Bepo may not have been much for girl talk, but he was always willing to lend an ear if she needed companionship. Her fellow engineers, Malamute and Skua, were dependable and shared her love of machines. Shachi was always down to help her pull a prank, and when he wasn’t drooling over the Kuja, Penguin could be counted on to talk her through her problems.

As for Law…by this point, he was more like her big brother than her actual brothers had been. They shared a similar devious sense of humor, was discreet about any feminine issues she might have that, as the ship’s doctor, he was forced to deal with, and he’d even played wingman for her a few times at the taverns they’d stopped in.

Had she just ruined all of that? Was Law just angry, or had this been coming for a long time? Law had threatened to fire her plenty of times in the past, usually in response to her back sassing him, but he’d never been serious about it. This time had been different—he’d been legitimately pissed at her. Maybe those teasing threats hadn’t been jokes, but subtle warnings, and her ruining all those papers had simply been the straw to break the camel’s back?

Ikkaku was deep in thought, mentally going over every encounter she’d had with Law with a fine-toothed comb, searching for any clue whether he seriously thought she should leave, when she quite literally bumped into Bepo.

The Mink took in her flushed, angry expression and asked, “Are you ok, Ikkaku?”

Oddly enough, it was that simple, gentle question that shattered her composure like a bullet through a bone, and without even thinking she buried her face in his soft fur and just broke down crying. “He told me to leave, Bepo,” she sobbed, scared and hurt and frustrated. For all the grief her crewmates had given her and all the dangerous positions being a pirate had put her in, Ikkaku loved being a Heart. Where would she go? She’d never find another ship like the Polar Tang. Another crew like the Heart Pirates. Another captain like Trafalgar Law.

Bepo, though shocked that the normally fiery and confident engineer was using his fur as a tissue, didn’t say anything—he just carefully rubbed her back and hoped that letting her treat him like a massive teddy bear would calm her down enough to explain what had happened.

XXX

“Ok, real talk—has anyone noticed anything…different about Ikkaku lately?” Penguin asked as he sat down to lunch.

“You’d have to actually see her to notice something,” Shachi replied, brow furrowing. He glanced over at Uni, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses. “You been giving her stealth lessons or something?”

Uni frowned behind his bandana. “No, but she’s definitely avoiding us. It’s been a week since we left Amazon Lily, and I can count the number of times I’ve seen her on one hand.”

“Same,” Ermine said as they finished molding Law’s onigiri into the perfect triangles the captain liked. “I actually thought we left her behind for a minute—nearly asked Jean Bart to turn the ship around to get her.”

Malamute rubbed his chin, mouth twisting in concern. “Nah, she’s here, but she’s mad at us about something—barely leaves the engine room most days, and she basically refuses to talk to me and Skua.”

His fellow engineer nodded. “We thought it might just be her time of the month, but that ended over a week ago according to the calendar.”

“You guys keep track of her menstrual cycles?” Clione asked, weirded out. The rest of the crew wore similar expressions of disbelief and disapproval.

“Out of self-preservation!” Skua shouted defensively. “We’re in a hot, confined space where she has easy access to heavy tools—of course we wanna know when we should have emergency placating chocolate on-hand!”

“We tried the chocolate anyway, though,” Malamute added. “She just…waved it away and kept working.”

The cook’s frown deepened at that bit of information. “Ikkaku never turns down chocolate,” Ermine said, “and she hasn’t shown up to lunch, dinner, or breakfast all week.”

“She’s been eating, though, right?” Penguin asked, concerned. He didn’t care how mad she was; it was no excuse to skip out on meals. It was bad enough Law was an insomniac that got most of his nutrients through coffee and onigiri. It would be a cold day in hell before he would stand for an anorexic engineer.

A large, white paw shyly raised in the air as Bepo interjected, “I’ve been bringing her meals so she doesn’t have to come by the galley. She’s…wanted some time to herself.” He dropped his head gloomily. “Sorry.”

“But she’s talked to you?”

“Ummm, a little bit,” he muttered, twiddling his claws. After she’d stopped crying, Ikkaku had spilled her guts about everything—her issues with the crew, her argument with Law, and why his words had affected her so badly. Though sympathetic, Bepo was certain Law hadn’t meant his thoughtless words—underneath his casual persona, he cared deeply about his crew and would never let any of them go for such a silly reason.

At first, Bepo’d tried to get her to go back and talk to the captain, but she’d shot that down quickly—with the mood Law had been in, it would do nothing but start another argument. The Mink had hoped that, now that they were sailing away from Amazon Lily and Law wouldn’t have to worry about Straw Hat’s injuries anymore, they’d both cool down and the whole thing would blow over.

Unfortunately, the past week had proven otherwise. Ikkaku had taken to hiding deep in the bowels of the ship, and Law had been so focused on redoing all those notes and charts that he hadn’t left his quarters in days. Bepo wasn’t a Mink who liked confrontation, and he certainly didn’t want to choose sides between his oldest friend and his favorite engineer, so he’d relegated himself to supplying food to both parties, hoping one of them would finally get tired of the oppressive silence and breach the topic.

As the crew frantically gathered around him, hoping to finally have an answer to the Mystery of the Missing Engineer, Bepo began to wonder if he should have just locked both humans in an empty room and made them talk it out.

Not that such a plan would have been very effective with Law’s powers, but it was better than nothing.

“Talk, Bepo,” Shachi growled, pulling a flashlight out of his pocket and shining it directly into the bear’s black eyes like he was in an interrogation room. “What’s up with Ikkaku?”

“Why’s she hiding from us?” Clione interjected.

“Why are you the only one she’s talking to?” added Jude.

“Is she pregnant and going through weird mood swings or something?” Skua asked loudly.

Bepo blanched at that last one. “No, she…she’s just kind of upset about…how you all acted on Amazon Lily.”

Exasperated, Ermine rolled their eyes. “What, was she jealous about all the attention we gave Hancock’s crew?”

“No, but…you guys were really insensitive. Like, that presentation—”

“It was a joke!” Shachi defended, though a guilty blush rose to his cheeks.

“And asking her to venture into the jungle to talk to the women for you—”

“Hey, she was the only one who they wouldn’t kill on-sight!” Jude sulked.

“And then she had to bring Law his lunch because you were all too busy staring at the Kuja.”

“Wow. Having to do that one menial task must have been such an inconvenience,” Malamute scoffed.

At the back of the grumbling crowd, Jean Bart awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. He hadn’t been on the crew long, so he didn’t really think it was his place to get involved, but he had the feeling Ikkaku had taken whatever had been said and done a little more personally than they thought. “Look, regardless of how we feel, we should all apologize to her. I mean, I don’t know her great, but does she usually give the silent treatment for this long?”

“Well, no,” Clione stated, looking a bit nervous. “Typically, she yells at us and smacks us around a bit, or maybe pulls some embarrassing prank, but she’s never quiet.”

“So, what’s this mean?”

“It means this is serious.” Penguin frowned at Bepo, who was looking around anxiously as if hoping to escape. “Ok, spill. You’re the only one she’s talked to, and you clearly have a better idea of what’s going on than we do. What’s Ikkaku really upset about?”

The Mink hung his head sorrowfully. “Sorry.”

“Damn it, don’t apologize! Just tell us!”

“It’s just…”

“Are you guys bullying Bepo again?” came a voice from the doorway. The crew turned to find Law strolling into the galley, looking thinner and more exhausted than usual, but he was at least out of his room and among the living.

Still shining his flashlight in Bepo’s face, Shachi yelled, “Captain! You gotta help us—Ikkaku’s basically been AWOL all week and won’t talk to anyone, and Bepo won’t tell us why!”

Law plopped into his chair and grabbed an onigiri, scoffing as he took a large bite. “She bitched at me for a while about how you all were being sexist pigs. Figured she would have gotten over it by now.”

“She complained to you about it?” Jean Bart asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, and then she managed to spill hot coffee on my crotch and ruin the inventory list for the infirmary that I’d spent hours compiling.”

The crew unanimously gave a sympathy wince.

Taking another large bite of his lunch, Law continued, “We’ll be making port in a few days—she’ll come to her senses once she’s spent some time off the ship.”

“You…you want her to leave the ship?” Bepo asked, voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Time apart will do us some good,” he replied with a shrug, activating his Room for a moment to remove the flashlight from Shachi’s hand.

“How…how much time?”

“Well, we’re not making port any longer than necessary. If she hasn’t gotten her shit together by then, that’s her problem.”

Bepo’s heart dropped into his stomach. What did Law mean “get her shit together”? Was he talking about packing her things? Was he really kicking her out over a silly argument over spilled coffee and ruined paperwork?

“Law!” the Mink shouted, jerking to his feet so quickly his knees knocked the table. “Please reconsider!”

Dark blue eyebrows rose at the normally soft-spoken navigator’s outburst. “There’s nothing to reconsider. Ikkaku’s a big girl—I agree that the sexism she faced was unacceptable, but she’s never had a problem handling that kind of shit herself.” His face twisted into a scowl. “And considering how I only just finished redoing all the work she destroyed, my tolerance for temper tantrums is at an all-time low.”

“She offered to help you rewrite it!” Bepo argued, slapping his paws down on the table. “Is some soggy paperwork worth losing your best engineer over?” Pausing, he glanced at Malamute and Skua. “Uh, no offense. Sorry.”

“None taken,” the duo said in unison, though their jaws dropped a second later as they registered the Mink’s words. “Wait, what?!”

“What do you mean ‘losing’ Ikkaku?” Penguin snapped, grabbing him by the orange collar of his boiler suit.

Shachi grabbed the flashlight again and climbed onto the table to shine it into Bepo’s face. “Talk, bear! Is Ikkaku quitting or something?”

“Because we won’t let her!” several of the crew shouted.

“Everybody calm down!” Law snapped, his deep voice silencing the rambunctious crew. “You all acted like idiots around the Kuja—I don’t blame her for being annoyed at you. But if your petty acts of sexism could drive her off that easily, she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes at her old job. You’re blowing everything out of proportion.”

“You’re the one who told her to leave over a spilled cup of coffee!” Bepo angrily stated, only to immediately shrink back when he realized just who he’d yelled at. “Sorry.”

“Whoa, wait, Law, did you fire her?” Penguin asked, genuinely horrified as he numbly released Bepo’s collar. Of all the things that could have been bothering Ikkaku, that hadn’t even made his list. Sure, she could be tempestuous, but that had never bothered Law before—on the contrary, Penguin had always assumed his old friend liked trading snarky barbs with.

“I didn’t—why would I—I was just pissed because she spilled hot coffee all over crotch!” Law defended, even as he inwardly cringed at the way his entire crew had turned to glare at him judgmentally. Shachi had even turned the flashlight’s intense beam on him.

“But was that worth actually firing her over?”

“I didn’t fire her! Yeah, we argued, but I never said she was fired. At most, I told her to get the fuck out of my office.”

“That’s not all you said,” Bepo mumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Flinty gold eyes narrowed at the sulking Mink. It was extremely out of character for Bepo to snap at or sass anyone—least of all Law. His brow furrowed as he thought back to his fight with Ikkaku—the memory was a bit hazy due to the lack of sleep he’d gotten. “Then what exactly did I say to her? What could have possibly been so bad that it could make her think I’m firing her?”

“You said…she told me…” Bepo took a deep breath. He hated scolding his captain, but he hated the idea of Ikkaku leaving even more, especially if this really was just a big misunderstanding. “You said to her ‘if you don’t like it, leave’.”

A sour taste worse than umeboshi filled his mouth as Law realized the full implications of what he’d said and done. He clearly remembered her old boss, a scowling, greasy man who’d shouted at her when she’d argued that she deserved to be respected as the talented engineer she was and not just seen as eye-candy.

If you don’t like it, leave, he’d sneered through crooked teeth as the other mechanics sniggered. Good luck finding anyone else willing to hire an inexperienced chick, though. Law could distinctly remember the hot surge of outrage he’d felt on the woman’s behalf; in less than ten minutes, she’d managed to identify what was wrong with the Tang’s engine and exactly how to fix it. Yet because she was the sole female in the shop—because she was a little bit different—she was overlooked and scorned, with her boss refusing to check for himself.

It had reminded Law a little too much of how quickly he’d been rejected from every hospital Cora-san had taken him to, the so-called “expert” doctors refusing to believe that Amber Lead was not contagious, or even examine the white patches across his skin.

And maybe—just maybe—the way her curly hair fanned out around her shoulders and down her back reminded him just a tiny bit of a certain black, feathered jacket.

Law hadn’t even bothered to consider whether or not the woman might want to become a pirate before he’d activated his Room and cut her boss to pieces. He’d then turned to Ikkaku, whose dark eyes had been wide with shock but not fear, and told her that if she could fix his engine as easily as she claimed, she was welcome to join his crew.

Now he stood to lose her due to his own sleep-deprived stupidity.

“…fuck.”

XXX

Down in the engine room, Ikkaku lay on her back underneath the ship’s engine, tightening the bolts that secured the freshly-cleaned cooling pipes. Since her argument with Law she’d basically spent every waking hour disassembling, repairing, and reassembling every piece she could. She trusted Skua and Malamute to take good care of the sub after she was gone, but the Polar Tang deserved nothing less than a thorough inspection and tune-up as thanks for carrying her so far.

She’d give the crew their own goodbye once they reached port. She hoped they were still too blinded by the hearts in their eyes to notice she’d been avoiding them. It wasn’t out of anger anymore; instead, she was scared she’d start blubbering. Admitting that Law had decided to toss her out on her ass was humiliating and heartbreaking, and she honestly wasn’t sure how the others would react. They could just as easily stage a mutiny as shrug it off as her overreacting.

Perhaps she was freaking out over nothing—Law hadn’t even left his room since their fight. Surely if he really wanted her gone, he could have marooned her back on Amazon Lily. Then again, he was a sadistic bastard; luring her into a false sense of security, then dumping her and her belongings onto the next port they landed on wouldn’t be entirely out of character. Or maybe her years of service had earned her enough mercy that he was willing to wait until they were at an island where Ikkaku could potentially find work instead of stranding her in the Calm Belt.

Whatever it was, she had every intention of confronting him about it after dinner. If this was all just a big misunderstanding, she planned to give him a good smack upside the head. If she was really fired, she wanted at least enough time to pack her things and say her proper goodbyes.

Until then, all she could do was stay busy to pass the time and hope that the knot of anxiety that twisted in her stomach would loosen up by the time she talked to him.

She didn’t want to leave, but if Law decided she was really that expendable, there wasn’t much she could do but try to hold onto at least a shred of dignity.

Reaching over to her tool kit, Ikkaku fished out her screwdriver, silently lamenting over the sad state of her tools. She’d planned on picking up some new ones back on Sabaody, but with all the chaos that had taken place, she’d missed her chance, and she wasn’t sure she could justify the cost now that her job was in jeopardy.

The sharp click clack of heeled boots against the metal floor startled her out of her thoughts. Glancing towards the sound, she immediately knew from the spotted jeans that filled her vision that, for better or for worse, the mystery of her termination was about to be solved.

She watched as Law turned around, and she knew from the barely-audible creek of the pipes that he had chosen to lean against them. Ikkaku had yelled at him for doing that more than a few times in the past, but this time she kept her mouth shut. Most likely he’d done it to provoke such a reaction out of her, but why? To break the viscous tension that filled the room by establishing a sense of normalcy, or so he’d have another cause to fire her?

Whatever his reason, Ikkaku refused to be the first to speak. Whether he wanted to kick her out or extend the olive branch, he’d have to make the first move.

After a few minutes of silence where Law merely stood there and Ikkaku continued to tighten the bolts, he finally sighed. “Penguin tells me that you haven’t been eating dinner with the crew,” Law’s low, nonchalant voice rumbled through the pipes.

If Penguin had to tell you, that says that you haven’t been eating with them, either, she thought sourly, though opted to stay quiet. She didn’t want to turn this into an argument if he intended to apologize. And if he planned to fire her…well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of riling her up.

Noting her unusual silence, he continued, “I understand their behavior has been…upsetting as of late. They were acting like idiots, but that’s no reason to isolate yourself.”

“Haven’t been isolating myself,” she lied, fiddling with a bolt she’d tightened ten minutes ago. “I’ve just had work to do. The Tang needed some maintenance, so I thought I’d get it done now that we weren’t being chased by Marines.”

“Sure. And the fact that Bepo’s been bringing you your meals this past week?”

“Going to the galley would have wasted time. Eating in here was more efficient, and Bepo offered.”

“Why didn’t you ask Skua and Malamute to help?”

“You doubtin’ my abilities as an engineer, Trafalgar?” she asked in a clipped tone, growing sick of tiptoeing around the point. “Whether you like it or not, I know how this ship works better than anyone. If you don’t trust me, tell them to get their asses in here and do it instead!”

There was a deep sigh from above her, and Ikkaku could easily picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows that formed when he was tired and frustrated. “Bepo told me you’re thinking of leaving.”

Ah. The moment of truth. Heart in her throat, she forced her herself to take a deep breath, ready for whatever judgement he saw fit to pass. “You’re the one who said I should if I didn’t like how I was being treated.”

“Are you?”

“Leaving or enjoying how I’m treated?”

“Leaving.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Good.” It was subtle, but there was an unspoken “I wouldn’t have let you if you’d tried” in his tone. There was another long moment of silence before he continued, “Engineers as skilled as you are hard to come by—finding a replacement would have been a bitch. Plus, the crew would have been upset; they were practically interrogating poor Bepo about why you were avoiding them.”

“And of course you stepped in and played hero, rescuing the helpless Mink from an angry mob?” she snipped, tightening another screw. It didn’t sound like she was getting fired, so it was a little easier to let her natural sass creep back into her voice.

Law let out a faint tch above her. “I wouldn’t say ‘helpless’ considering how he then yelled at me about allegedly firing you. After that, the mob was on his side.”

A proud grin curled the corner of Ikkaku’s mouth. Who would have thought that Bepo would yell at his best friend for little old her? She’d have to come up with a nice thank you gift for her favorite shipmate. With luck, Law might actually apologize for his behavior if even Bepo was calling him out.

Of course, that might take a while, so it was best to keep busy. Reaching out her hand, Ikkaku felt around blindly for her socket wrench. She jerked slightly in surprise when she felt long fingers wrap around her hand before the tool in question was placed firmly in her palm. She pulled her arm back, only to stare wordlessly at the brand-new wrench that practically gleamed in the light.

Clumsily she slid out from under the pipes, jaw dropping as she found Law crouching beside a new, expensive, top-of-the-line tool kit. “I was saving this for your birthday but given the chance that you wouldn’t be around to receive it…” he trailed off, adjusting his hat so the brim cast a shadow over his face.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled, immediately recognizing the gift for the chrome apology that it was. Plus, it was hard to stay mad at Law when he was like this—honestly, it was so dang cute how awkward he was when forced to display actual human emotions like caring and guilt. “You bribing me to stay, Boss?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She laughed, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. “Then I accept, along with a twenty-percent bonus on my next paycheck.”

He grumbled slightly but didn’t refuse, nor did he pull away from her embrace, even if he stubbornly refused to return it. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t technically said “sorry”. Actions spoke a hell of a lot louder than words with him, anyway, and Law was practically groveling for her to stay.

When she finally let him go, Law stood up and cleared his throat before nonchalantly strolling towards the door. “Well then, since you’re not leaving, unless the engine room is actively on fire and no one but you can put it out, you’re eating with the crew tonight. They’ll formally apologize for their behavior, and they’re all going out of their way to show you how much you’re appreciated. Ermine’s preparing your favorite meal. Clione and Shachi have put together a presentation detailing exactly how stupid they’ve been while Penguin has one extolling your virtues. Malamute and Skua have volunteered to take on your cleaning duties for the next two weeks.”

“What are you going to do?” Ikkaku teased, though he could have said “nothing” and she’d be fine—she knew he’d never make the mistake of discarding her again.

Law stopped at the door and threw his trademark cocky smirk over his shoulder. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll be standing by your side all night to make sure you can’t run off when you realize just how obnoxiously sentimental those idiots can be.”

Ikkaku’s grin fell a bit as she realized he was right—the Hearts were an infamous band of pirates led by a fiendishly dangerous captain, but when it came to their nakama, they could get downright sappy in extreme circumstances. Jude was probably preparing some hippy-dippy song. Cousteau would inevitably name some weird sea creature after her. Seiuchi would probably find a way to scatter confetti all over the galley and she’d be picking it out of her hair for days…

Getting up, she chased after her devious captain. “I don’t suppose there’s still time for me to quit and join the Kuja, is there?”

Gold eyes glinted sadistically at her as Law replied, “Nope. Welcome to Appreciation Hell. Population: you. Don’t try to run, either—I’ll Shambles your ass into the galley if I have to.”

Ikkaku punched his arm in retaliation, though she was careful not to hit him too hard—if she annoyed him too much, he’d go out of his way to rile the guys up even more. God, he’d probably propose they all get tattoos of her face or something just to make her suffer.

“You’re an absolute bastard,” she said, affection creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

“Yes, but a bastard that appreciates his engineer,” Law replied, and out of the corner of her eye, Ikkaku could have sworn she saw the barest hint of a genuine smile flicker across his face.

Despite the knowledge that she’d be stuck with a crew of idiots and a captain who had the emotional range of a teaspoon and a truly frightening sense of humor, Ikkaku felt happier than she had in weeks as she playfully knocked her shoulder into his. “I guess that’s not so bad, then.”

The End

[royallyjoon]

red light magic

i don’t want to set the world on fire...

i just want to start

a flame in your heart.

as someone who’s always been on the outside looking in, the social aspect of college felt almost as daunting as the academic aspect. you meet seven certain men that revolutionize your life and its meaning. what would start out as a completely innocent friendship would develop, move crude and black, into something so sinister.

—

A medical career hadn’t been your first choice.

Ever since you were little, reading and writing were in your blood. Books were your escape from teasing classmates, and there was nothing more enjoyable to you than coming home and powering through one YA novel after another.

You loved reading so much so that it, along with summer school and class assignments, pushed you to start writing short stories yourself.

When high school came along, you were fairly well known for your love of books and your writing/poetry.

You knew all too well how much dedication and time it takes for an author to be successful. Your parents never failed to remind you, either.

Your mother pushed you to recognize the fact that a career in the medical field would not only allow you to give back to society but pay your bills as well.

You could improve your writing on the side and not have to worry about living in a cardboard box after graduation.

Ultimately, when the time came to choose a college, it was this conversation that made the decision for you.

Karu University, your home for the next four years, was known for its myriad of majors as well the diversity in its subjects.

You lived in a standard dorm room with relatively nice roommates. Your student loans weren’t too cumbersome and your mom bought you all the school supplies you’d needed.

Your first day of classes began with a Psychology course; one the rest of the people in your major wouldn’t be taking until next semester. Due to a scheduling error, you would take Psych this semester and the other class the next.

You arrived rather early, by about half an hour, and sat in the middle of the lecture hall. With one earphone in, you took out a notebook and pencil. Then you fooled around on your phone.

People slowly started filing in. The two seats on either side of you were empty, but only one held your bag.

Just as the class was about to start, a young man ran in. His eyes quickly scoured the room for a seat. You saw him turn his head towards you and moved your bag to between your legs in preparation.

On your left, another man sat next to you. He smiled, one you quickly returned before taking your headphones off and putting them in your bag. You put your phone on silent.

As you stuffed your phone in your pocket, the guy from earlier plopped down on your right. You smiled at him as well, and he grinned.

The professor started his lecture. Halfway through, there was a small tap on your shoulder. You stopped writing notes and turned to the one on your right.

“Hey, sorry to bother, but do you have a pen I could borrow?” He whispered.

“I think so...” you muttered. You dug through your bag and handed him a Sharpie pen.

“Thank you!” He smiled again and scrambled to write the class information the professor was sharing.

“First things first: Sigmund Freud was wrong about a lot of things, but contributed greatly with his psychoanalytic theory of personality.”

“Really?” The voice on your left quietly snorted. “I thought his theory on the Oedipus complex was right and true.”

You giggled and glanced at the man next to you. He smiled and shook his head.

Throughout the lecture, you wrote little notes and laughed at his comments. He seemed to know so much about Psychology already; it made you wonder why he was there.

At the end of class, the man on your left finally introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon.” He stuck his hand out.

“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” you smiled back and shook his hand.

Those dimples are adorable.

“You’re a freshman, right?” You nodded. “Ah, cool! I’m a junior; I just took the class because I had the elective time.”

“Really? I was thinking you seemed pretty learned about Psychology; now I know why.” You said.

He blushed. “I’ve gotta go to my next class, but I look forward to talking to you more.” Namjoon picked up his bag and walked away with a wave.

Meanwhile, the one on your right tapped your shoulder. You turned to face him.

“Thank you so much for the pen! I’m Hoseok.” He grinned and handed it back to you

“Ah, it was nothing. I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.” You stuffed it in your bag and smiled back. For some reason, his happiness felt infectious.

Maybe it was the first day jitters.

“You too! I’ve gotta run, but see you next class!” He jumped up with his bag and waved goodbye as well.

You waved and sat a while before collecting your books to go explore the campus. At the very least, you had two new friends. The thought made you smile.

-

The campus was pretty empty, although it was still early in the morning so students were probably sleeping or in class.

The walks between campus were absolutely scenic, as Karu covered so much ground for its different schools. There was a pond to study by, and you intended to sit there after getting your way of the land.

When you reached the pond, you sat underneath an old willow tree that hung over it and pulled out your book. You only started reading for about half an hour, however, before someone’s shadow stole your attention.

You looked up to notice a tall, pale man in front of you. He looked much too old to be a freshman, older then Namjoon even. You guessed he was a senior.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure you’re new here so I’ll just tell you. Tradition states that the willow is a senior hangout only, and I’d really like to sit down. I’ve had a long morning.” The voice quietly lectured you.

“I don’t have a class for the next forty-five minutes...can we compromise?” You scooted so that your back was to the sunny part of the tree.

He looked at you for some time, but eventually, his exhaustion prompted him to sit.

“Wake me when you leave.” was all he said before he lay his head on his bag and knocked out.

You continued to read and slowly got accustomed to the sound of his breathing and the water in the pond moving.

With fifteen minutes left to go, you started packing your things. You didn’t want to be late for your class.

You stood, patted at your pants and legs, and shook the senior awake.

“My class starts soon, so I’m going to go now. I hope you have a good day.” You smiled at him as he quietly grumbled before taking off.

-

Your official classes finished for the week, and any breaks you had were spent traveling the campus in search of relaxing studying/reading spots. However, you could not head back to your dorm yet.

Every year at the end of the first week of school, Karu held several activities over the weekend for incoming freshman to get to know each other.

Forming unbreakable bonds, getting into relationships--because these are the plusses to college, were they not?

You headed towards the Roleste Center, where the majority of activities would be held.

The sophomores, who spent the past year planning these events, stood excitedly at the doors. They welcomed students by handing them a name tag and a little necklace with a plastic square to slip it into.

You hefted your bag over your shoulder and took a Sharpie, necklace, and name tag with a smile. Once prepared, you headed into the room.

Your heart was pounding. You hated and loved these events with a passion; it was difficult for you to start talking to people but once you did, you opened up a lot more.

Let’s make some friends, you thought and delved into the crowd.

-

The rest of your day was spent awkwardly trying to get to know people. You chatted with a few, but the second the leaders gave you all free time, they ditched you for others they’d met earlier. You were at a loss with who to hang out with.

Groups formed quickly as students left the building in waves. You didn’t want to walk outside, clinging to friend groups hoping they’d call out to you so that you could join the conversation.

They never did.

And it was too bold for you to just walk up and join the conversation as if you’d been there all along, wasn’t it?

You pulled out your headphones, plugged in, and sighed.

I came here to make friends; yeah right.

You felt a presence near you and looked up. A boy now stood in front of you, his hand outstretched.

“Hi! I’m Jungkook.”

You smiled and shook his hand. “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” His grin reminded you of a bunny. “So, what are you majoring in?”

“Nursing.” You replied. “What about you?”

“Nice...I’m majoring in arts in game design.”

“Wow! You must be really talented!” You gushed.

You chatted with Jungkook for the rest of the break, and the rest of the evening. He switched seats to sit next to you, and your heart warmed in excitement. Finally, you’d found a friend in your year.

When the activities were over and the sophomores bid everyone goodnight, you stood up to go but hesitated when Jungkook didn’t.

“Hey, are you coming?” You asked softly.

“Ah, no. I”m staying behind to help the sophomores clean up. I know a couple of them and we live together, so it’s easier.” Jungkook replied.

“Oh...well, do they need any more help?” You asked. You didn’t want the night to end so soon...

Jungkook smiled. “Sure! I’ll ask just in case, but I know they’d appreciate the help.” He jumped up and ran to the back.

You sat down and watched as the other freshman left boisterously for their dorms, planning meetups and exchanging social media.

You felt a bit disappointed that you’d only made one friend, and here you were clinging to him like a newborn.

Jungkook came racing back. “They said you can help; come on, let’s get started.”

You put your bag on the floor next to him and started folding chairs and tearing down decorations. The sophomores goofed around as they cleaned and you gazed upon their closeness, wondering if you would ever belong to a group like that.

You all finished cleaning about an hour before curfew. You knew your dorm was closing at midnight, so as much as you didn’t want to say goodbye to Jungkook, you had to put an end to this night.

After collecting your bag, you walked over to the raven, who was speaking to two sophomores. The taller male had bright red hair and grinned a boxy grin when Jungkook said something to the smaller male. His pink hair somehow fit his personality.

Their conversation slowed as you approached, and you took the opportunity to cut in in fear of interrupting them.

“Hey, Jungkook!”

He turned and smiled. “(Y/N), there you are! I wanted to introduce you to these two; they helped plan the whole event.”

“Hello, I’m Taehyung! This is my best friend Jimin.” The redhead gestured to the pinkette.

“Ah, hello! Thank you for working so hard to plan the event, the games were really fun.” You said.

“Thank you for saying that (Y/N), that’s so sweet.” Jimin smiled and all you wanted to do was pinch his cheeks, but you held back.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Jungkook asked.

“Oh, I wanted to say it was really nice meeting you today. I was so worried I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to, but you swooped in and I had a great time talking. I hope we stay good friends in the future. But I’ve got to back to my dorm before the close the doors. I really hope to see you around campus more.”

Jungkook’s face brightened at your words but fell when he heard you were leaving. “You have to go? Here, why don’t we exchange numbers so we can keep in touch?”

“Sure!” You handed your phone to him and took his in turn, putting your name with a couple silly emojis.

Once the exchange was over, you promised to stay in touch and bid your goodbyes to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. However nice it was to meet them, you had a long day and all you wanted to do was shower and go to sleep.

-

Taehyung opened the apartment door with a shout. “Kookie met a girl!”

“He what?” The sophomore was rewarded with a shout from the kitchen.

Jungkook shoved his way in and slapped Taehyunh on the shoulder. “Hyung, it’s not that serious!”

Jimin strolled in and closed the door behind them. “I mean, she was beautiful. And our Jungkookie already got her number.”

“Oh-ho!” A loud shout from upstairs. “I knew we were raising him right!”

“I raised him if anything; the lot of you sat back and watched me.” The man entered the living room, apron on and spoon in hand. “What’s her name?”

“(Y/N).” Jungkook blushed a little thinking about their evening.

“He’s got it bad.” tsked the college graduate.

“Jin hyung, I’m hungry,” whined Jimin.

“Then get your lazy brothers to come downstairs so we can eat.” He said as he walked back into the kitchen.

The youngest ones raced upstairs and ran to the respective rooms. Jungkook pulled Namjoon from his room, Taehyung got Hoseok from his studio, and Jimin dragged Yoongi out of bed.

Once the seven were seated and eating, Jin asked them what they thought about starting the new semester.

“I think it will go well.” Namjoon mused. “I met this nice girl in my Psychology lecture--she actually laughed along with my jokes.”

“And she lent me a pen!” Hoseok said. “She’s super nice. I don’t think she would have even asked for it back.”

“I met a girl under the willow tree,” Yoongi muttered. “She’s the only other person I know that isn’t afraid to sit under the tree. I told her it’s a senior privilege to sit there, but we just ended up sharing the space.”

Jin shook his head. “I’m amazed you all actually found someone to talk to for once. What did she look like?”

“She had (s/c) skin and (e/c) eyes; she was wearing a yellow hoodie and jeans,” Namjoon said.

“That’s what the girl I met was wearing,” Yoongi said, pausing his meal.

“That’s what (Y/N) was wearing,” Jungkook added.

The dinner table remained silent for several minutes.

“What a coincidence?” Jin tried.

“I don’t think so,” Jimin said. “Must be fate. It’s too weird.”

“We’ll see what happens in the future.” Hoseok shrugged. “You never know, we may never see her outside of classes again.”

Little did they know, the universe was up to something grand.

[chrisbbaegopayo]

Hold Your Breath (Stray Kids: Stalker AU) ➻ Chapter 1

Genre: Thriller, Angst, Gore, Mystery, Suspense Characters: Stray Kids, OCs Word Count: 2.8k Warning: This story will contain elements of gore, on- and off-screen abuse, torture, mental illness, and stalking. It will feature themes that are not suitable for all ages, readers discretion is advised. Each chapter will have its own specific warning.

The story takes place in the main character’s third year of university. The prologue will detail information before the story takes place. Happy reading!

Chapters: Premise | 01 Prologue | 02 Chapter one | 03 Chapter two | Chapter three (part 1) | Chapter three (part 2)

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During the summer, she spent most of her time hanging around Jisung, and throughout her time spent lazing around the house and marathoning movies on both of their to-watch list, the two had engaged in casual conversations like regular friends. However, the topic of her supposed secret admirer never came up, and naturally, Jisung never suspected something was wrong. Her perky attitude kept him from knowing what was going on, and plus, she felt certain that once the new semester rolled around, the secret admirer would be out of her hair.

Plus, spending time with Jisung made her feel safe.

Jisung, who had worked at the local movie theatre, sometimes would offer her discounted movie tickets thanks to his employee discount, and sometimes, they would hang out at a nearby diner or cafe. They would laugh at random things that the older boy had encountered at his job, including a woman who bought both popcorn with extra butter and two slushes only to dump it all on him because her son was being particularly playful that day.

It took a while to get the butter smell out of his hair.

She laughed for a long time, with Jisung staring at her incredulously after that.

Jisung did say that thanks to the mishap, he was able to leave work to clean up—"to avoid affecting the overall atmosphere of the theatre,” as his manager told him. He was grateful for that. Jisung was never penalized for the mishap, and the lady apologized profusely for her oversight.

Jisung had a bunch of other funny stories that he told her in the course of the summer vacation, and some good news as well.

Though Jisung at the movie theatre, his main goal was to fund his own music career. Despite being a talented musician, he had never had any luck getting his music out there. He told her that on certain days, when he wasn’t working, he would be working with another friend, producing music that he wished people would listen to.

He had shown her several of his mixtapes, but other than a few supportive fans—her included—his career at making music never really lifted off the ground. But it seemed to be better now that he was able to purchase some advanced and better technology to help him make music that that had better sound quality.

His partner, Seo Changbin, who also shared the same dream, came from money and was rich, but Changbin’s parents were too worried about his condition to allow him to become fully engrossed in the music world. Nevertheless, whenever he had time, Changbin would make his way to Jisung’s house to dip his hand back into the music world, much to his parents’ chagrin. However, Changbin’s parents made it abundantly clear that they were not going to fund Changbin’s music career should he choose to pursue the path—which is to say, though they didn’t openly dissuade him from doing so, they weren’t encouraging him to do so, either.

After all, Changbin was born with hearing disabilities, and knowing that fact alone made Changbin even more admirable in Jisung’s eyes. Changbin had great rhythm, a great sense of style, and an ear for something more—something that Jisung did not excel at.

To further add insult to injury on Changbin's part was that he also had a weak heart, so the exposure to loud and brash noises could incapacitate him to some degree. The boy was already suffering from one disability, but this was a totally new monster to tackle. Changbin still loved music, and the louder the better. He pulled a weird "loud music can train my heart to withstand more" crap to his parents, something that Jisung had a hard time believing.

Jisung often talked to her about how life was kind of unfair—to give a guy this kind of unmatched talent and give him an equal amount of handicap that would deter him from utilizing his talent to its fullest…

...is truly ironic, in a sense. But Changbin seemed to make it out just fine.

“Life is full of adversities and obstacles,” Changbin told Jisung a few months into their friendship and partnership, “but the most important thing is to know how to navigate through and past the roadblocks in life that dares to keep us back.”

And through the summer, it felt as though she was given insight into Jisung’s life like never before.

On the last week of summer vacation, as she was getting her things ready for the new semester, he asked about her. It was also the first time in a long time that he had asked her about her own schooling experiences.

She was tempted to tell him about her secret admirer, but she decided against it and talked about the crazy amount of homework she would be expecting come third year, and joked about how she was going to have no social life. Of course, she was kidding, and he knew that.

“Nothing too exciting, you know, this and that,” she said, almost dismissing the idea that her life could get interesting. “Come on, to a plain girl like me? I’m as mundane as you can get.”

Jisung gave her an ‘are you kidding me’ look as he rolled his eyes, clearly not convinced. She only stuck out her tongue in retaliation.

She didn’t lie, she just didn’t tell him the whole truth. But he was clearly not going to be satisfied with that answer, this she knew for sure.

“My friend told me about how she walked into the wrong class acting like a diva and argued for five minutes with the teacher before realizing that she was supposed to be in the classroom next door,” she started, recalling the incident. “It didn’t help that she had been awake for more than 40 hours and was pumped off of energy drinks her brought bought her.”

Jisung chuckled, almost sympathetic. “And then?”

“She became more aware of her surroundings after five minutes of arguing—I think it woke her up and she nearly ran from the room. The funniest thing was the professor’s reaction to her running, his mouth was open the whole time, almost in a disgusted manner,” she said, hardly holding in her laughter. “My friend avoided that professor for a whole half a year before she apologized to him. He had half-forgotten her by that point.”

By then, Jisung burst into fits of laughter. It took him a while to calm down.

"Dude, these stories are gold," he said, in between chuckles. "You literally need to convince your friend to go audition for stand-ups. It's going to be a full house with stories like these."

She nodded in agreement, wiping the stray tears from her eyes. "I know, that's what I've been telling her, seriously, so much raw talent for the entertainment industry. But she just keeps on telling me that other people won't find her funny and won't pay to see her even if she tries."

Jisung seemed to have eased up on the laughter, but still, maintain that tiniest hint of mischievousness. "Well, people are missing out. They're golden, golden. She just needs to find the right crowd."

"Like your music career?"

Jisung huffed. "Hey, I resent that. My music career seems to show signs of promise, I gained two listeners on SoundCloud the other day. And just the other day, I gained 10 more subscribers on YouTube. I'm on fire!"

Although she was very supportive of his music, she never let up a chance to tease him about it—all in good fun, of course, and he knew that.

"Hey, new listeners on both platforms! That's always good news. It's not much but it's something, right?" She stood up, back facing the television, looking down at Jisung, who was lazily sitting on her couch. "What's say we celebrate with some soda?"

Jisung scrunched his nose in disapproval. "Soda? Again? We have that every day. I bet you're just thirsty."

She laughed. "Yeah, you're right, but hey, I thought of you. You got to give props to me for that. You want me to just ignore you while I drink all the soda in the fridge?"

Jisung crossed his arms in front of his chest in mock anger, "what am I, chopped liver? Give me a soda!"

"Okay, okay," she chuckled as she made her way to the kitchen and poured two glasses of soda from the fridge. "One Coca-Cola for Jisung, coming up!"

Jisung raised his arms in the air, cheering. "Yeaaaah!"

At that moment, her phone buzzed, startling her. She managed not to spill anything, props to her. The message would have to wait until she brought the drinks back to the living room.

Once Jisung had the drink in hand and she had hers, she dug the phone from her pocket, curious as to who texted her—she figured that it would be her friend, and it was, the same friend who was not quite awake when she stepped foot in the wrong class—incidentally, the same friend who gave her a little lecture when she found the note written to the gift-bearer/secret admirer.

"Do you want to hang out tomorrow?" There's a new cafe opening, and I heard they sell incredibly delicious pistachio crepe cakes!"

She smiled to herself as she settled her drink on the glass table and took a seat on the armchair. She looked over to Jisung, who was drinking the cup of coca-cola she had given him a brief moment ago.

"Can I bring a friend?" She texted back. Maybe Jisung might benefit from going to cute places once in a while.

"Hey, Jisung?"

He looked up at her from his cup. "Hmm?"

"Do you want to go to a cafe with me and a friend?"

Jisung thought for a moment. "Which friend?"

"Sooji. The same friend who walked into the wrong classroom and argued with the professor for five minutes straight." She paused and then added. "Yeah, that friend.”

Jisung's eyes lit up a little. "Sure! Where? What time?"

She shrugged, "Let me check if she replied."

The sound of a 'ding' and she knew her friend sent a reply.

"Maybe noon? It's the one with floral decor, pale yellow storefront banner, and it says "Petit Pâtissier" on top. You can't miss it. It's where the Korean bakeshop used to be."

She looked up at Jisung as she relayed the information. "It's downtown, where the little Korean bakeshop used to be, you know, the one that we used to frequent back when we used to live downtown? Yeah, it's closed down and a new cafe opened up there, called "Petit Pâtissier. At noon."

Jisung thought for a moment. He didn't need to be at work because he had the day off, and Changbin was with his parents doing some checkup so he would have spent that day by himself anyway. "Sure."

A ding interrupted her mid-cheer, and she checked back at her phone. 

"Is it the hot friend?"

She flushed, and immediately fired back a text profusely rejecting her idea that Jisung was hot.

"NO! I do not have a hot friend! What the heck, Sooji!” "But yes, noon sounds great." "And his name is Han Jisung. Not hot guy."

The reply from her friend was almost immediate.

"Oh, that friend." "But wasn't he the hot friend?"

She kept on gawking—she did not know that Sooji found Jisung hot, what, what, what the heck?  

"Whaaaa??" She replied. "Since when did you find him hot what when where how what why? Spill the tea, sis."

Jisung, who sat near her, was staring at her in confusion. "What was that?"

She side-eyed him as a grin made itself to her face. "My friend thought you were hot."

Jisung stared at her in disbelief. "Hey! I'm good looking!"

She could only laugh. "Yeah, she said that earlier, sheesh. But come on, her taste is always pretty questionable, let's be real."

Jisung rolled his eyes then and there. "Sureeee, you always say that."

She stood up and stuck out her tongue at him. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

It was then that her phone made a 'ding' sound, and she stared down at her phone, curious as to what her friend said.

"Nope, my lips are sealed!" "But if he's coming tomorrow, then maybe we could talk about how hot he is." "I'll tell you when we hang out, again. Between us girls," Sooji wrote.

She giggled.

"Okay you better tell me!"

She stuffed the phone in her back pocket as she stood up, and then made her way to the kitchen, where she could refill her drink.

The phone 'ding' ed with another notification.

Normally, her friend wouldn't reply that fast, but she figured that Sooji would probably fire back with some comment along the lines of, "I'm serious" followed by a few exclamation marks, almost determined to prove her point.

But it wasn't Sooji. It was a bunch of random numbers. Was it some sort of telemarketer? Had they switched over to text now?

Unsure, she opened the text, and she yelped, dropping her cup to the kitchen floor, smashing it into multiple pieces.

Jisung, who was in the living room, dashed around to the kitchen. "What happened?"

Quickly, she placed her phone, screen down, on the counter and pretended to busy herself with the mess she had made. "I, um, I dropped my cup, I didn't have a firm grip."

Jisung could not find out. "Really, I'm okay."

Too bad it was just her spirit that had been broken.

Jisung had a feeling it might be more than what was on the surface, but he didn't press further and helped her clean up the broken glass. "Be careful, ok?"

She nodded wordlessly.

The two returned to the movie, and even though Jisung had picked out a scary movie for the two of them to watch, she wasn't all that into it, and the scary parts within the movie seemed more prevalent to her. It felt more real. Eventually, the scary movie felt a little too much for her to handle, and she pleaded with him to switch the movie.

"Could we switch the movie? Please?"

Jisung complied, but instead of putting on a different movie, he closed off the screen altogether before joining her on the couch.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, almost painfully. "Nothing…really. I'm just out of it today."

He didn't want to press her earlier about whatever spooked her earlier, but now, it was a little more evident that something big was bothering her.

"Don't give me that crap," he said. "I know when you're extremely unsettled by something."

Something about 'how long have I known you for?' stuff.

She didn’t speak for a long time.

"I saw a scary advertisement," she tried again.

Jisung was still not buying it. "Really? How about you tell me what's really bothering you?"

There was a moment of pause, with the two just staring at each other, neither of them saying anything.

She entrusted him with every other secret, why not now? It made no sense of Jisung, and he felt as though she had been through this strange transition and became a totally different person—provided that she had been busy with school, but she had taken to be more secretive about everything, and he didn't like this change. Not at all.

"(Y/N)," he started, hesitantly, "are you in trouble?"

Her eyes widened—of all the question, why this one? Should she even tell him what was going on? She felt her resolve waver as she melted into a pool of insecurities.

"I—"

He only pressed further, and she felt she was backed into a wall—because why out of all the people, why her?

"Y/N, if you're in trouble, you need to let me know, really, is it school? What's going on?"

She shook her head.

"No...I..."

There was a long pause before she continued. "I just have some trouble with...someone, I guess."

He looked worried. "Who?"

What should she tell him? My secret admirer, who has been giving me gifts since the beginning of the year and making me really creeped out? No way, he'd go crazy. Someone who was pulling a year-long prank on me by sending me presents? No way.

"You're making me really worried." Apparently, she wasn't answering fast enough. "Seriously. You know I'm always worried about you."

She stared down, and fiddled around with her shirt, unsure of what to say.

"You promise you won't get mad?"

He gave her a bewildered look. "Why would I get mad?"

"I don't know. I just..." her voice trailed off, and he leaned in, almost in anticipation.

"Jisung, I..."

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Boom! Chapter one completed! Next week’s chapter might come a little late, but I promise there would be some other visual aids, such as the conversation featured here! 

If anyone has any questions regarding the plot, I can answer them! I know it’s not too far into the story yet, but I promise I won't give any spoilers! I might also add more interactive aspects of the story to give it more interaction worthy content, but for now, it will stay static. Thank you for reading!