#sometimes i wear the professor hat

[luninosity]

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[jockbroski34]

The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

[mywritersmind]

MEET ME IN THE LIBRARY - LN4

summary : He’s a certified book theif, she’s a perfect distraction. Some sweet interactions between y/n x lando in their college life.

listen up : LANDO NORRIS JOCK FRAT BOY AU🗣️🗣️ guys this was so cutie i love !! i need more romance books also lol. some dirty jokes but that’s about it! the FIA is lando’s frat lol

word count : 4480

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I regret wearing a skirt as I step into the library, the cold temperatures not changing at all. But I'm trying to get in and out quickly. Which is hard while surrounded by books.

I smile at Ms. Finigan, hurrying up the stairs and past favorite section, romance. I sadly walk past, seeing all of my favorite titles call to me.

I find the Shakespeare section and realize that I need to get out of my comfort zone sometimes. I’m scanning the books before I find my next victim. Romeo and Juliet. The overly romanticized book about two idiot pre teens.

I finally think something is going right for me today, until I go to reach for it. Someone next to me reaches over my head and snatches it right out of my reach.

I turn to yell at the man who’s taken my book, but then I realize who it is.

Lando Norris.

Of course, today of all days, he has to be in my way.

He’s devastatingly gorgeous, an insane athlete, and utterly annoying. “You’re Y/n… Right?” I push the fact that I've never introduced myself out of my mind and reach for the book.

He pulls it back, I'm still bookless. And he, with his backwards hat and FIA hoodie, is just peering at me like I'm some zoo animal.

He raises a brow at me as I frown, “Yes. Could I have my book?”

“Your book?”

He’s cocky and arrogant and I’m getting distracted by his eyes. “Yes, My soon to be book if you’d let me have it! Please, Norris. I’m late.”

“Norris?” He eyes me, “Didn’t know you knew who I was.”

“Glad you learned something today!” I reach for the book but he holds it over his head, “I need it!”

“Why do you need it?”

I cross my arms, “Why do you need to know?” Sadly, this doesn’t put him off. A smirk grows on his handsome face.

“Sassy.” He brings the book behind his back but when I reach for it, he just steps closer. I narrow my eyes because what game is he playing? “You’re cute when you’re angry.” Yeah… what the fuck.

I step back, “I'm going to be late, Lando.” He smiles when I say his name, “Why do you need it?”

“Just some light reading.” I frown, trying to think of any way I can get it from him, “I’ll give it to you if you beg for it.”

“Awh.” I fake pout before rolling my eyes and walking away, “I’d rather choke.”

“I know something you can c-” I snap my head around and he honestly looks scared. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? I swear to fucking god Norris, if you’re just screwing me over for fun-” I let out an angry groan and take a deep breath in, reminding myself how bad I need it, “I need it. My professor needs me to have the hardcopy, and I need him to like me because normally all my professors like me and I’ve never failed and he’s the type to fail me because of something like this.” I don’t mean to dump all my thoughts onto him but he doesn’t look fazed.

“Alright, Ace. Should have thought a bit ahead then, huh?” He gives me an annoying look and I suddenly get the urge to slap him.

“You don’t seem like the type to be into Shakespeare.” He almost looks surprised that i’m not falling at his feet.

“I’m not.” He shrugs in the way all frat guys do, and I know he won’t say any more.

I need to cut my losses, “Whatever, I am so late.” I start walking away but he follows.

“Need a ride?”

I eye him, standing in the front steps, “You’ll give me a ride but not that book?” He starts talking again but I just shake my head, not being able to deal with this anymore.

“Come on, wait!”

I keep walking.

“You made me feel bad, Ace!”

So he does have a heart.

“Your loss!”

When I turn back one last time, my middle finger in the air, I see him getting into his immensely expensive Mclaren, and winking at me.

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I make it to my class late, after my professor embarrasses me in front of the whole class because I don’t have my book, I finally finish and make my way back to my apartment. I hear a loud sigh as I walk in. My roommate, Lily Muni He is spread out on the couch and frowning at her laptop, “I'm dropping out.”

“After the day i've had, me too” I go straight to the fridge.

“What happened?”

”Oh you mean spilling my coffee all over my favorite sweater, Lando Norris asking me to beg for it, Or my professor yelling at me in front of my whole creative writing class?” I open my tug of ice cream.

Her jaw drops, “What!?”

“Yeah my new sweater that I spent months saving for-” I dive my spoon into the chocolate and peanut butter mixture before she screams and cuts me off.

“NO! Go back! What do you mean Lando Norris!? Lando Norris asked you to beg for WHAT!?” I plop down on the couch with her.

“Oh. That.” I roll my eyes, thinking back to his dickish moves today. I’ve met him but not in a formal sense, when he was trying to get into the most exclusive frat on campus (FIA) the guys would volunteer at the library I work at to read to kids. Lily claps her hands in front of my face and I snap back to reality.

I tell her the story and while I'm hung up on my poor book, probably in his nasty room, she’s hung up on the fact that Lando offered me a ride in his Mclaren.

“You know, he’s not as bad as everyone makes him out to be.” I don’t believe her, “Seriously! He shared a room with Alex last year and was actually really nice to me. Definitely player vibes but at least he’s a nice one.”

I frown, “Well that’s great for you! But he’s holding my book hostage.”

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“One iced coffee with oat milk please!” I smile and reach into my bag, digging around for my wallet. Okay! no need to panic, I have no wallet but I have apple pay.

Except when I tap my phone, the lady taking my order shakes her head at me, “Declined… Any other way you could pay?”

I sigh, honestly about to walk right out with all of my shame left over. But a familiar arm reaches over me for the second time, handing over a credit card.

“I’ve got it.” Lando fucking Norris. “Good to see you again, Ace.” He shoots me that heartthrob smile before the woman swipes his card and within two minutes, we’re holding drinks.

“You really didn’t have to…” I take my coffee from him as we move out of the way. He sips his matcha latte and smiles.

“It’s no problem. I felt sort of bad that I took your book anyways.” I frown at his words, still angry, “But if you want to repay me back, you can sit with me.”

I don’t know why he wants to. But he bought my eight dollar coffee so who am I to say no?

We sit at the seats facing the window, looking out onto the street that’s covered in orange and brown leaves.

Lando doesn’t talk first, just sips his drink and watches the two dogs at separate tables outside play together.

I don’t know why I say it, but I can’t help myself, “Do you have pets?”

His head turns to me and I realize how curly his mullet really is. No hat or weird gel just makes him more attractive and I fear I'm not mad at it.

“Nah, the house doesn’t allow it. Besides Franco’s weird lizard…” He looks disgusted for a second before looking at me again, “Do you?”

I nod, “A cat.”

“What’s its name?” It’s a bit weird that he’s interested, but I’ll take any chance I get to talk about my child.

“Jo! Like Jo March.” He looks confused, “Little women?” He still looks confused, “Louisa May Alcott…?” When I realize he’s not getting it I nod, “It’s a book.”

“Ah… I don’t know much about those.”

I can’t help but say, “But you know about Romeo and Juliet, right?” He better because I did not get called out just for him to not read it.

“It was for my friend…” He cringes as I scoff, “I’m sorry! He needed it! Uh- Carlos? He’s in your class too I think…”

I swat his arm, “You gave it to someone in my class!? That’s even worse!”

He laughs, “Sorry, not sorry! He asked nicely.”

I eye him, “Oh, and I didn’t?” He shakes his head, his hand going to his hair as his elbow rests against the table. He hides his face in his arms but I can still see his smile.

I roll my eyes, “Well, thanks to you I got humiliated in class!”

“Hey, I bought you coffee, you can’t be mad!” I huff and look back outside, he stays looking at my side profile for a second then joins me in silence.

Silence that is quickly broken by a girls shrill voice, “Lando!” Kill me now. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I don’t want to be apart of it.

Sadly, I'm not struck down by lightning and have to watch the blonde wrap her arms around Lando. His eyes go wide but when she pulls away, he gives a cool nod.

“Katy.”

“Where’ve you been?” She giggles, not paying any attention to me and resting a hand on his arm, “I’ve missed you.”

Lando glances at me, “Um… around?” She giggles at this again.

“I’ll be at the party on sunday! Me and Rennee!” Lando seems to be overtaken by a coughing fit and I promptly stand, grabbing my bag and coffee.

“Thanks for the coffee, Norris. I gotta go!” He watches me leave, looking like he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

It’s not everyday that a frat car wash happens. But when it does, I know it’s going to be a good one. My friends make me drive, Lily’s next to me and she said she had to support her boyfriend.

Watching twenty shirtless guys grind shirtless on my car is definitely an interesting support system. But hey, i’m not complaining.

I’m crying laughing by the time my car is getting soaped up, Lily is screaming and Alexandra and Francesca are videoing in the back.

Lily bangs on the window, Alex pops up, smiling at her, “Get Lando!” I lunge for her as soon as she says it, “Ah!” She screams as I turn her to me.

“Lily!” The girls in the back are crying now, “Lily no!”

She just giggles, “Too late!” I look to my left to see Oscar (a guy from my chem class) and Lando walking towards the car.

Francesca and Alexandra are watching the man on top of the car but i’m totally and completely zoned in on Lando’s soapy wet abs.

“I hate you.” I say to Lily but she just giggles.

“No you don’t!” Him, Oscar and Alex start basically dry humping my car. I cover my face but Lando slams his hand on the window.

He looks personally offended, a fat grin back on his face. He points to my eyes, then his. I roll my eyes and he sticks his tongue out.

They continue to assault my car and just as I’m wondering why all of them are ripped. Lando gets thrown onto my windshield, being moved around like a rag by Alex and Oscar who are laughing hysterically.

I clap my hands together, honestly admiring his effort, I'm laughing still. I bring my fingers to my lips and whistle as Lando grabs the hose, pouring it on himself.

“Shit!” Lily hits my arm repeatedly as he sprays us.

“You’re ridiculous!” I yell and he laughs at my words.

He just spreads his arms and shrugs, “Only for you, Ace!” His muscles are distracting me. They're even making me gloss over that this is the third time he’s called me ‘Ace’.

He blows me a kiss before running his hand down his body, sticking his tongue out as I shake my head.

“Excuse me!” Francesca yells from behind us, “Are you and Lando Norris, fucking!?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDOS POV

I’m officially embarrassing myself. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Y/n whisper yells at me as I slide into the seat next to her.

“I had to wait for Carlos anyways so I thought, Hmm I know someone in this class!” The professor starts speaking as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“You can’t just be here! Why don’t you go sit with Carlos?”

“Well that’s easy, Ace. You’re much prettier than he is.” I don’t miss the blush that finds her cheeks, smiling to myself because I did that. “Saw you at our car wash last week.”

“Have you ever considered a career in the magic mike industry?” She whispers as she moves her pencil across the paper.

I laugh a bit too loud and when the professor calls me on it, I stand and wave, “Sorry, Prof! Won’t. happen again!”

When I sit back down, she gives me a death stare, “Why is it that in the three years I've been at this school, I've had the pleasure of never running into you, but in the past three weeks, I've seen you everywhere?”

“Maybe I just want you to see me now.” I knew her name, she was too pretty to forget but never hung around our group and I was otherwise occupied.

But now that I've actually talked to her, I realize that maybe I like her for more than her killer face.

She doesn’t look up yet, “Did you run out of girls on the campus and I'm the last victim?” I know she thinks I'm a sort of… slut? Town bike? Classic Frat boy?

But honestly is it a crime to enjoy myself?

I know I really enjoy myself with her.

“I’ll let you be anything to me, Ace. Anything except victim, seems like something I’d get kicked out for.” He laughs under her breath, I love when I make her laugh.

“The only thing I am to you, is a way to be distracting.” I grin because she’s exactly right.

“True.” I lean in closer, resting my arm on her chair, “I can think of a lot of ways we can be distracting to this class.”

She elbows my side and when I groan, she eyes me, “Ow!”

She shakes her head and continues listening. I let her for a while, looking at her shoes and avoiding looking at her legs. I fail at the second one and she snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“I won’t let you sit here if you’re gonna be checking me out the whole time.”

I listen to her, scrolling on my phone and making little remarks at what she’s writing, “So you wanna be an author?” she hums in response, “You like to read?” She nods again, “I bet you read smut.”

She hits me again, “Lando!”

“What!? With that reaction, I know I'm right.” she’s blushing again and suddenly all I want is to look at her bookshelf, “No need to be embarrassed we all have our vices.” She covers her face from me and I smile.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I down two shots before going to Lando’s frat party. My friends are obsessing over the fact that we were invited but i’m more nervous than I have been in a while.

Francesca is a lion, Lily is princess peach (a couples costume with Alex), Alexandra is a fairy, and the only things I could find were a white dress and wings so i’ve labeled myself as Juliet in the weird ‘modern’ adaptation.

As we walk up, I realize there’s people waiting to get in but Alex waves us to the front. It’s almost immediate when I spot Lando.

I thought I would at least have time for more drinks before I even got close to him. I don’t know why I'm anxious, maybe it’s because Lando is a sort of fun way to take my mind off things.

I don’t think anything of his costume, he just looks like he’s in gray. But as we get closer, I can see the shift in Lando’s face and when he turns to talk to Alex, I see the armor on his arms.

He’s fucking Romeo.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m avoiding him. Simple as that! He tried to say something to me when I arrived but I swerved him and ran after Alexandra.

Someone’s talking to me, I think his name is Liam or something? He’s blonde and dressed like a mouse.

But he’s cute and definitely interested in me.

“Hey!” Lando’s hand goes to Liam’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly, “Pledge! I see you’ve met Y/n.”

Liam’s eyes widen and he scurries away like… well… a mouse. I cross my arms, watching Lando smile as he leaves.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Ace.”

I sip my drink, looking anywhere but him, “No….”

He steps in front of me, way too close, “I like your costume.” His eyes move down my body and I might as well be naked by the way he’s staring at me.

“Yours could use a bit of work, not very accurate.” I lie.

“What, you wanted me to straighten my hair?” I cringe at the idea, “I don’t do well with books, the movie was good.”

I laugh a bit, “You’re a walking stereotype.”

“Oh and you aren’t?” He eyes me, “Nerdy with a big mouth who can’t stop blushing.”

I think about it for a moment and realize he’s right. Lizzie Bennett, Amy Santiago, Hermione granger. Shit why does he know me?

“You’re doing it again.” He pokes my cheek and I know they’re pink, “It’s cute.”

“You’re such a flirt.” He smirks at this, “It’s the jock thing! Is it in your water or something?”

He laughs, taking my hand, “Come dance?” I nod without thinking. He’s still sipping his drink as his hand moves from my hand to my waist.

His touch is soft and he smiles at me under the neon lights. It’s weird that four weeks ago I had all sorts of ideas about him in my head. Now I know him and I sort of love it.

We dance for a while, i’m in a haze of smoke and alcohol when I realize Lando is zoning out.

I touch his arm, leaning closer, “Wanna get some air?” He nods and looks around.

“Come on.” He takes my hand. Lando fucking Norris, grabs my hand and gently guides me through the crowd.

It’s different this time, I don’t know why. But his hand on mine feels more intimate.

He starts walking upstairs and when I pause he looks back, “I have a balcony. Fresh air only, I promise.” I nod and follow, trusting him.

His room is clean, with posters up and multiple photographs hung on the walls. He slides the door open, letting me go first.

I take a deep breath, the cool air washing over me as I lean against the railing, leaning my head back and rebelling in the muffled noise.

I look back up to him, but he’s just staring at me, “You’re beautiful.” It takes me by surprise, like genuine shock runs through me. His eyes widen, almost like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.” He looks relieved at my words, “Thank you.”

He breathes out, standing next to me, “Thanks for coming. My friend really likes yours- Alexandra, right?”

“Oh!” So that’s why he invited me. “Right, I heard they were hooking up…” He’s acting nervous and fidgety, “Are you okay?”

He nods, “Sorry. I’m kinda drunk and anxious and you’re great but I don’t feel great.” I frown, nodding to walk back inside.

I sit on his bed, pulling off my shoes and crossing my legs. He doesn’t look at me weird, just lays next to me, sighing.

For some reason, he looks so different than the Lando who teased me in a class he snuck into.

Are you really okay, you don’t seem like you’re in the party mood...”

He hums, “I’d rather be up here with you anyways.”

I sigh, “Stop fucking with me.”

He frowns, sitting up a bit, “What?”

“I know we laugh about you being flirty and shit but you’re gonna make me think you like me.” I brush my hair out of my face but I can feel him looking at me.

“Why would I joke about that? I do like you.” Oh.

Oh okay.

So he just drops that fucking bomb then goes into another room to “grab something” ??

I want to slap myself. What the hell is happening.

He walks back in with two waters and a bucket of halloween candy. “You can go back down, by the way.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Norris?” I reach over and grab a twix as he smiles. It makes me feel good that he’s feeling well enough to smile.

“Never, Ace.”

We sit in silence for a bit, eating candy and drinking water like the complete nerds we are. I glance over at him, making sure he’s still awake, “How many girls have you had in this bed?”

He frowns, “You want the real answer?”

“No.” He laughs as I turn to him, crossing my ankles and leaning against the wall, “Why do you call me ace?”

“Why do you think?” When I don’t say anything, he answers hesitatingly, “You went off about your grades and professors liking you. Like you ace everything. And even before that I knew you were smart. But now it’s more because I think you’re pretty close to perfect.”

I think my heart stops. Just then, the look he gives me… like he’s embarrassed or something, “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.” He lays back down, “What’s your favorite color?” I smile softly as Lando plays with my shoelace.

We sit like this for a while, the party is still in full effect when we get quiet again. I’ve learned about his family, his dreams and school life. I told him about my aspirations, what I've always loved, and what I truly read.

He gets a kick out of the last bit.

He’s feeling better now, I know because his eyes aren’t avoiding me. He’s just looking into my eyes, his are so green and I think I could write an essay about them.

His head knocks against the wall, he’s next to me now, our arms touching as he tilts his head to look at me, “Ace?” He whispers even though it’s just us.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you to think i’m a slut.”

I smile softly, “I don’t.”

“I want you to like me.”

My heart rate rises, “I do.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Norris. You’re too nosy to believe me anyway.” He laughs at this. Then he gets really quiet.

My eyes flicker to his lips, he does the same. I lean in, so does he. I’m about to close my eyes. He backs away, clearing his throat.

I pull my lips into a thin line, looking away.

And again I think,

What. The. Fuck.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m embarrassed to say that my lack of a kiss with Lando last night, was truly humbling. He’s so confusing.

I mean, he said he liked me! And I go to kiss him and then he just doesn’t? After that awkward moment he mumbled something about joining the group and we went back downstairs.

Lando looked incredibly uncomfortable the rest of the night and I found my way to the tequila way too fast.

I march my way up the library stairs, my headache subsiding after the meditation and water. I don’t really remember anything after Lando and I went downstairs.

I’ve been unable to stop thinking about what happened with us, so i’ve come to my happy place.

I breathe in the smell of the books, drifting my hand against the spines of historical fiction. I make my way to shakespeare.

It’s probably not the best right now because all I can think of is how Lando smelled when he took that book from me. I look up, and see Romeo and Juliet staring back at me.

I reach up and take it from its place, opening it and flipping through the pages. I smile at the words that I've come to like after my class.

I’ve never felt such an all consuming love like Juliet, but I think I understand her just a bit more now.

Someone clears their throat and when I look up, i’m not as shocked as I was all those weeks ago.

Lando Norris.

He's in jeans and a plain white tee. Why does he look so good then?

He slips his hands in his pockets, walking towards me, “I’m sorry.”

I raise a brow because I certainly wasn’t expecting that, “For?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I like you.” he blushes and I want to tease him but he keeps talking, “But I really didn’t feel like myself last night. And I wanted our first kiss to be the sort of thing you could write in detail.”

A small smile meets my lips as he stands in front of me, my back to the shelves, “You’ve thought about kissing me.”

He rolls his eyes but a smile is on his face, he steps closer and his hand goes to my waist, “You are a distraction.” I laugh a bit, looking up at him innocently.

“Whatever do you mean?” He shakes his head and dips it down to be at my level.

“For real this time… Can I kiss you?” I can’t help but smile.

“Only if you compare me to a summer's day and would be willing to die for m-” He cuts me off with his lips.

My arms wrap around his neck, as I kiss him back. I can feel him smile against my lips. My hand goes to his hair, the other gripping the book.

That damn book that started this all.

He bites my lip a bit before moving back, his breath still on me. “I don’t think I've seen true beauty until I saw you in this library.”

[sinsirellaxx]

toxic boys x ethreal!stunning!reader

Like shes SO pretty that everyone has a crush on her,attention is always on her,shes just beautiful and the face of Hogwarts

Slytherin Boys – Their partner is the face of Hogwarts

Warning: Toxic boys! Not proofread as always.

Mattheo …

… is honestly torn between loving and hating it. He was obsessed in love with your beauty, and he basked in the envious glares thrown his way for being your boyfriend, but he also absolutely hated the idea that other people probably got off on you.

… wants to hide you from the world sometimes – when he is feeling low or whenever something triggers his jealousy, which obviously happens way too often to be considered healthy anymore.

… would try to make you wear modest clothing and constantly told you that you did not need any make-up or whatever else you used to enhance your beauty.

… would be more aggressive with you admirers behind your back – it got worse the deeper he felt for you.

… can be mean to you, whenever you don’t agree with him and stubbornly insist to dress up.

“Babe, you are beautiful the way you are. There is no need for all of that – or are you so desperate for attention?”

Theodore …

… is cocky because he finally found his equal. He knew that all the girls were in love with him and that even some boys’ eye lingered on him for longer than necessary, so it was normal for him to have the prettiest partner – right? Right. At least until you outshone even him.

… would clench his jaw whenever the two of you were stopped by some pathetic male asking you for something – anything. A scoff leaving his lips whenever you agreed to help with whatever problem – cause, how dare you? You were just too sweet for your own good.

… screamed internally, whenever you cancelled your plans with him, because a fourth year desperately needed tutoring. His mood ruined for the day. His anger would find its peak when he would see you in Hogsmeade with that student.

… would be annoyed by you at some point. The less people saw him the more he actually started to dislike you.

“They are just using you because you are so gullible. It’s annoying really.”

Lorenzo …

… immediately hates the attention – he should be the only one to look at you with those eyes and the thought of half of the school staring at you lovestruck made his skin crawl with badly contained anger.

… would go out of his way to draw the people’s attention to himself instead. If that didn’t work, he’d just start claiming you publicly: kissing you in the corridors whenever no professor was around, leaving hickeys in obvious places and always having an arm wrapped around your waist possessively.

… his patience snaps if one of his boys actually shows interest in you.

“Love, come here … let’s skip that double-date … you wouldn’t even like my friend – he’s an ass.”

Draco …

… wears you on his arm like a rolex Daytona.

… every compliment directed at you fed his own ego.

… bought you designer clothes and expensive jewelry to make you stand out even more – honestly, he would treat his partner like a dress up doll.

… would hate it if you were to pay attention to any of your admirers though. You were his – and you were definitely not allowed to engage in any conversation with those dimwits without him by your side.

“Doll, would you please wear that pretty black dress that I got you last week? We’ll be having dinner with the boys.”

Blaise …

… is stressed. He knows the minds of pervy teenagers, and it unsettles him to know that so many are obsessed with you.

… would wake up extra early to accompany you to breakfast and/or your first class.

… would run through the halls to get to you as quickly as possible if you didn’t have the same classes.

… would probably also threaten someone that made you feel uncomfortable or belittle them in front of a crowd, always watching them rush away with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don’t worry, babe. He deserved that.”

Tom …

… doesn’t notice your admirers at first. But when he does … he hates it. Absolutely detests the attention you get.

… would find it annoying and inconvenient.

… would drag you along if someone tried talking to you and just force you away from that person.

… would scare everyone who approaches you – and due to his friends and minions he always knows about everything – even if he wasn’t with you when it happened.

… would definitely murder someone if they took it too far without batting an eye.

“The annoying Gryffindor boy disappeared? How curious.”

[thewritergx]

Truth or Dare Part 1: JJ MaybankxF!Reader

Part 2

Summary: The group decides to play a game of truth or dare, pushing JJ and y/n over the edge. Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Drug and alcohol use, mentions of sex, kissing. No smut in this part. Decided to make this two part because I kind of got carried away with the word count.

Word Count: 4K

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

“God, it's hot”, sweat pooled around the bottom of my hair as I placed it in a tight bun. The AC went out days ago. With John still fending for himself, he couldn't exactly afford to get it fixed. I was just thankful he was letting me crash here. My mom was out on a bender, and told me to get the hell out. She did this periodically,  never even giving me time to pack or gather a few days of clothes. 

“Sorry, trying to save up to get it looked at in a few days.” John was in the kitchen, his head stuck in thawled out on the floor in front of us, rolling a blunt with a grape swisher. My favorite. JJ was sprawled out on the floor in front of us, rolling a blunt with a grape swisher. My favorite. I admired the way his fingers rolled it, the way his tongue lightly licked the paper to stick both sides together. He looked good even in the heat, his hair sweaty and skin sticky. JJ wore a loose gray cut-off shirt, his toned shoulders exposed. With every moment I could see the subtle veins in his muscles move and flex. His hat was backwards, like often, and he was sticking the tip of his tongue out a bit, focusing on his rolling. 

He looked up, locking eyes on me. “What, you feenin’ that bad?” JJ smiled. 

I laughed, embarrassed he caught me staring. I annoyingly started crushing on JJ this past summer.It had gotten stronger this past month as JJ started staying at the chateau more and more. After everything that happened with JJ's dad and my mom kicking me out of the house all the time, we understood each other pretty well. John B welcomed us at his house. He always mentioned how quiet it was without his dad here. Most nights, JJ and I slept on a blow-up mattress or the couch. There were nights JJtried to go home, give his dad a chance. Most of those nights he showed up at 3AM, lightly tapping on the window for me to let him in. John B had basically tuned his hose into a homeless shelter. 

Sometimes, I thought I would catch JJ eyes lingering on me as I sat across the room or when I was wearing something a bit revealing, but I could never really catch him. There was tension in the air some nights, but JJ never acted on it. I thought about mentioning my crush to him a few times but I knew he was loyal to the rules. No pogue on pogue macking being one of the few. It might have sounded stupid now, especially after Pope and Kie worked out so well together. There was no drama with them, no fights causing tension with the group. The rule just sounded dumb now. 

“I was watching the way you roll, can never get mine that tight,” I lied. Weed. A good distraction for JJ. 

“Here, let me show you,” JJ patted the ground next to him, moving a few things so I would have space to sit. I took a seat in a criss-cross-apple-sauce position, our shoulda lightly brushed and I tried to ignore how hot and smooth his skin felt against mine.

“Here take this one”, JJ handed me a swisher, the tobacco thrown on a plate in front of us. He grabbed my fingers gently, instructing me on how to rub up and down in a quick delicate motion. I felt my face get as he held my hands in his. “Oh, yeah. See, that looks great. Good job” JJ smiled, pressing his shoulder a bit more into mine. 

I laughed “Thank you, Professor Maybank. Outstanding lesson”. I handed the fresh blunt to JJ and he took out a baby blue lighter. 

“Hey, you lighter thief. That's mine.” I scolded him. “I've been looking for that.”

He laughed again. “Yeah well, wanted to carry you with me.” 

A gentle knock on the door followed as Pope and Kiara walked in, carrying a pack of beer and popsicles.

I sprung up. “Dear god, give me one of those.” I geeked excitedly. My mouth was so dry. 

Kiara laughed, handing me a red colored cherry popsicle. I undid the wrapper, and licked it slowly. 

I took my seat down to my JJ again. It was so hot the popsicle was melting on my hand already. I sucked off the juice, bringing my fingers to my mouth. JJ finally lit the perfect blunt, and took a short hit. He motioned to me and brought it to my mouth, the b, unt between two fingers. I attempted not to make eye contact as I breathed in, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from him. We stayed like this for a second before I blew the smoke gently towards him. Of course, I had to start coughing, my throat on fire. 

“Alright, just breathe.” JJ padded my back. I nodded my head and sucked in the hot air, trying to breathe the smoke feeling away. 

JJ grabbed the blunt, passing it over to Kie and Pope. Pope surprisingly hit it, something we didn't see him do often. He made a sore, sour face when he finished, immediately grabbing for water.

My lungs had finally stopped burning and I licked the popsicle a few times, the cold ice beating the dryness of my tongue. I let out a low slow moan at the chillness. Cherry was always my favorite. Bright, hot, red. I sucked a bit at the tip, juice filling my mouth. 

JJ, looked over. I could tell by his shifting and clenched jaw he was uncomfortable. Maybe the weed got him nervous or something. I grabbed his shoulder, the room slightly spinning. I was always light weight and JJ always had the strongest shit.

“J’ you okay?” I asked, taking a small bite off the top of the popsicle. 

JJ smirked a bit, his head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m doing just fine, y/n”, he spoke.

Sarah took a small hit, almost gagging. She was still getting used to our life, but she was open to trying as many new things as possible. I remember the first time she smoked. She stayed up all night counting the stars. She kept messing up and having to start over again. She handles it a lot better now.

We each passed it around a few more times, I stopped after three hits. It's all I could take before becoming a puddle on the carpet. It was getting dark out now and since it was our last weekend before school I knew the group would get a bit crazy.

“Come on, let's go take a dip in the hot tub,” Kiara exclaimed. She undid her shorts and t-shirt, leaving her in a light purple bikini. It complemented her skin tone beautifully.

“Bet, gotta change first.” In a corner of the living room, JJ's and I’s clothes were thrown in cheap dollar store bins. Most of my stuff was left at my mom’s house. All I really had here were the clothes I was wearing and things Kiara and Sarah let me steal. Mostly stuff they didn't wear or was gifted to them.

I dug around in the bin, looking for a swimsuit I was pretty sure Sarah threw in. Hopefully, it actually fits. I was a bit thicker than the two girls, so some things were a smidge too tight. 

I finally found the top and bottom pieces. It was a dark cheetah print pattern and honestly very sexy. But, it absolutely didn't match Sarah's clean girl aesthetic. I held it up to the room. “Okay, this is what I got.” JJ, let out a low whisper and I rolled my eyes. Maybe I'd just wear shorts and a crop top.

“Wow, I bought that for Sarah. Can't believe she won't wear it”, John B laughed as he stood in the doorway, his face a bit red.

“I have plenty of swimsuits, John. That was just the one I thought y/n would like the most. Fits her ‘bad girl’ look, don't yall think?” Sarah smiled, walking me to the bathroom so we could both change.

It was a small dim lit room with a slightly crusty mirror. One of my goals while staying here was to help John clean it up a bit. JJ was surprisingly a big help, always trying to assist with the small cores around the house. I washed the dishes, he dried them. I put clothes in the washing machine, and he folded them. It was sweet of him, especially since I never asked.

“You're going to look so good girl. Here, turn so I can tie the straps”. Sarah grabbed the two thin straps and tied them in a cute bow behind my neck, holding my tits at a great height. 

The bottoms fit me really well too. I was a bit surprised at how much I liked it. Usually I would dress more modestly. Most of my bikini covered my chest pretty well and I usually opted for something less cheeky. It was a bit tight around my hips, but the thong style made my ass look amazing. Sarah gave me a light tap on one of my ass cheeks. 

“Oh yeah y/n. You need to wear that to the next beach party, take a new man home with that thing.” I laughed and Sarah fixed my hair, pulling it down my back. 

“I don’t know. It’s kinda… a lot.” I laughed. 

“Oh come on, you need to embrace that body you got.” Sarah rushed me out of the bathroom before I got a chance to reply. Honestly I was thankful. Sometimes I needed a light push. 

By the time we walked out, everyone else was in the hot tub. I grabbed a few towels from the tub and the case of beer Pope brought. I was a bit nervous about what the guys would say to be honest. They always hit on us girls, but mostly they remained playful. I just didn't want them to get carried away. 

I met JJ’s eyes as we walked outside to the hot tub, a hot blush spread across my cheeks. I heard Pope mumble a “goddamn” and Kie slap him across his bare chest. 

“You look so good, y/n.” Kie yelled, her voice honest and pure. 

JJ remained quiet but he watched closely as I sat across from him. I felt tense but the hot water washed away any anxiety I was feeling. I silently handed JJ a bear as he sifted around slowly. His face back to that uncomfortable feeling. 

“Thanks,” he pretty much whispered inaudibly. He had ditched his shirt and hat, his upper body completely exposed. I tried not to focus on it too much and opted instead to close my eyes. I let the water engulf me, take my body to a place of pure relaxation. I let my eyes focus on the classic rock music JJ played in the background. He had good taste. 

“Okay, have an idea,” Pope spoke up. “Let's play Truth or Dare.” 

“That’s kinda cringe”, Kie laughed. 

“Oh, come on. I've never played.” Pope’s smile fainted a bit. Sometimes I forget how innocent he used to be. So much has changed this summer. 

“Yeah, sure Pope. That sounds fun to me.” I lied. To be honest, it did sound cringe. But Pope never brings stuff like this up and I could tell he was having a good time.

“Alright fine, I’ll play”. Kie low-key rolled her eyes but wore a fake smile.

“Okay, then I'll go first”, Pope said. “John, truth or dare?”

John B looked a bit spooked. “Pope, I don't trust how mischievous you look right now. I’m goin’ truth.”

“Okay, scaredy cat”, Sarah light-heartedly joked.

“Hmmm…I got it. What is the first thing you’ll do when you find the gold?” Pope asked.

“Oh, starting deep,” JJ mumbled. He was shifting around a bit. I could tell something was off.

“I don't know. I mean, I never even thought about it. Maybe just clean up this place. Build a house big enough to fit all the homeless friends I have.” John’s face was in wonder as he fantasized about the future. It was sweet. His first thought was all of us. Sarah let out a faint “awww”.

“Okay, guess I’ll pick someone…Sarah. Truth or Dare?” John B wore an obvious smirk.

“John, why?” Sarah shook her hair softly. “I guess dare but only cuz I'm not a chicken like you.” She joked again.

“Fine, I dare you to let me give you a hickey. Anywhere you like”, John’s smile was wide now.

“John, you know I hate those.” She frowned. Sarah was still breaking out of her shell. Never too loud or obvious about the sexual relationship her and John shared.  

“Dare is a dare,” John stated confidently. Sarah let out a deep sigh and moved closer to John B. 

“Fine, you can put one on my neck. A small one.” She huffed. She moved her hair to free the base of her neck. She laughed a bit but was still slightly angry as John B lightly sucked on her neck. To be honest it was a bit awkward. Especially because I was close enough to hear the little groans John B let out. 

I looked at JJ. He paid close attention to the two, a bit too much. His cheeks were a bit red, his jaw tight and lips closed. I think he noticed by gaze because he quickly made eye contact with me before dropping his eyes to the water. 

“Okay, okay. Get off me” Sarah chuckled. “That tickles”.

“This was a great idea, Pope.” John B wore the smile of a champion like he was seeing his family for the first time after a long battle. We all laughed a bit, except JJ who sat eerily quiet.

“Y/N truth or dare?” Sarah questioned excitedly. 

“Um, I guess I'll go with truth.” I answered. 

“Okay… Tell us about a crush you have. If you do have one.” It was a fairly innocent question but it held a lot of weight.

“Oh um.. Okay. Yeah, I do kinda have one. I guess. He’s really smart, more than people give him credit for. Funny, always smells really good. Also, super strong. He's got like a sleeper build where you can't tell how much muscles he has until he uses them”. I rambled, probably embarrassing myself.

“Aww, that's so nice. Any guy would be so lucky” Sarah responded. 

“Wait, oh my god. I know who you're talking about. That guy you work with? Is his name Chris?” Kie was genuinely excited. I didn't talk about boys often, mostly because the one I wanted was sitting right here with us. I didn't have the heart to tell her that 1. Chris is gay, and 2. He was nothing like what I just described.

“How’d you know”. I tried to play it cool, change the subject as soon as possible.

“Y/n, I hate to break it to you but that man does play on your field. If you know what I mean.” JJ finally spoke up. His face was in a slight frown and his eyebrows were tight. He looked mad but I could tell at what. 

“Okay mister, gaydar. Your turn” I spoke quickly. 

“Dare me,” He shot back just as fast. 

“Okay, you were quick with that. Let me think. How about…you race me in shotgunning one of these beers?” JJ loved competitions. I thought maybe another drink would loosen him up more. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You're going down, you know that right?” I ignored his pet name, trying not to linger on it for more than a moment. JJ finally had a smile and I was confident my theory had proved successful. I grabbed two beers out of the case. Might as well drink them since Pope went through the trouble of stealing from the gas station. JJ grabbed his pocket knife he kept on the edge of the hot tub, perfect for moments like this. He poked holes in the bottoms of each can. I grabbed one, holding it at a side angle. Then, I fetched into position, my finger hovering just over the tab. I swear he was staring me down, his eyes digging daggers into me. 

“Okay. Ready. Set. Go.” Kie counted down fast. 

I brought the can to my mouth immediately, pulling the tab and suckling at the whole. I tried my hardest to get as much down as I could. JJ clearly was in no playing mood. By the time I took three swallows he was already done. He crushed the can, throwing it over his shoulder behind the hot tub. 

“Told ya, can't beat me.” He had definitely perked back up. The group laughed and I finished my beer. It tasted like shit but I tried to play it cool. Beer had run down my chest, signing the crease between my breasts. JJ quickly looked them up and down and shifted a bit more angrily. I don't understand. He literally just won. 

“Kie, truth or dare?” JJ finally turned away from me, breaking his eye contact and looking towards Kie. 

“You know I'm always gonna pick dare.” Kie was wrapped under Pope’s arm. They looked comfy.

“I dare you and Pope to show us your favorite sex position.” JJ laughed. He knew they would hate this. Pope was still so shy when it came to sex and Kie was just a private person overall.

“That’s it?” Kie raised an eyebrow. “So easy”. Kie, stood for a moment, positioning Pope so that he was bent on his knees. Then he hovered her ass just above his pelvis. “Doggy, but kinda closer. That way we can still kiss and I don't feel so gross after”. Pope’s face was as blushed as I'd ever seen it. He grabbed Kie’s hips and brought them up and down slightly. 

“Okay, okay. Don't show them all of my girl’s moves.” Pope mumbled. 

“We should try that,” John motioned to Sarah. 

“Okay, Pope’s got the moves. I am satisfied. JJ smirked. 

“Hmm, who should I pick? I guess me and Pope technically just went. Y/N I'll choose you. Truth or dare.” She asked.

“Well, I just picked the truth. So I'll go with a dare”. I was honestly a bit nervous. Kie knew how to stir the pot. I think she was low-key picking up on the crush I developed. She sometimes shot looks at me if JJ and I were alone or a bit closer to each other than the rest of the group. 

“Ooh, good choice. I dare you to sit in JJ’s lap until I say to stop or until we get tired of playing.” Her face was serious. She did know, that just confirmed it. 

I thought about it for a moment and it didn't seem too crazy. I mean I sat next to him everyday and sometimes I had to sit in his lap if we took Pope’s truck. It wasn't completely new. I looked at JJ. Great. He looks pissed again. Was sitting that close to me so bad, I thought to myself.

I felt my own smile drop a bit.

“Okay, yeah. I guess”. I moved across the hot tub, fixing the string of my bikini that had moved just a bit too far up my ass cheeks. I turned my back to JJ and sat my legs between one of his. He let out a soft breath. He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable as I set down. 

“You’re light”, he spoke plainly. No hint of any emotion in his voice. 

“John, truth or dare?” I smiled. Please pick dare. 

“Since my girlfriend made fun of me last time, I’ll pick a dare”. John had a fake sarcastic tone. 

Yes. “John, I dare you to give us the best rendition of a Broadway dance you possibly can.” I was relying not to laugh too much, imagining his awkward moves. 

John got out of the tub, standing in the dirt and grass next to us. I played the only broadway song I knew, something from Hamilton. The Whole group watched him, letting out high pitched yays and laughs. 

I tried to stay still as I watched John’s moves but the water made JJ’s thighs too slippery. His shorts gave a bit of resistance but not enough to keep me balanced. Each time I got comfortable I would slide down a bit, causing me to move around even more. 

“Quit moving,” He whispered. His voice was dark.

“Sorry, the water is slippery. It's kinda hard to stay balanced.” I tried not to make our struggle obvious to the group who had begun to watch John B try to do the perfect cartwheel. JJ let out another sigh. This time deeper with a bit more annoyance. He brought one arm across my waist, holding me up tightly into him. His forearms were toned, that sleeper build I mentioned earlier. 

“That better?” He asked. 

“Yeah, thanks.” I mumbled. His fingers lightly grazed my side, sending a tingling sensation throughout my entire body. I tried to shake it off, focus on anything else. He was warm against me, his chest pressed into my also bare back. The only thing between us was the thin straps holding up my top. 

As time went on, and John’s dance ended, I felt JJ become more and more stir-crazy. He bounced the leg I was straddling lightly. I tried my hardest not to grind on him, the soft tapping motion on my core was driving me crazy. His shorts rubbed against my thigh and exposed ass. The thong allowing me to feel every fiber under me. I wanted to run for the hills but I knew I wouldn't. He gripped me tighter like he thought I might actually really runway the second he let go. Then he started making slow up-and-down strokes against my side with his thumb. I swear he was teasing me, trying to see just how much of him I could take before I actually did anything.

The group praised John B. “An excellent performance”, I laughed. He breathed heavily as he got back into the water, taking his seat next to Sarah agin. 

“Alright y/n, I’m out for revenge now’. John smirked. “Pope, truth or dare?” John’s chest rose and fell softly, clearly still a bit tired. 

“Truth,” Pope responded. 

JOhn B asked Pope some question about losing his virginity. Pope went on a long rant and the group listened as he described a girl he met during summer break his sophomore year. 

JJ shifted a few times as he listened to the story. My blood ran hot as he moved his free hand and placed a tight grip on my thigh. “Sorry, felt like you were slipping still”. He mumbled into my neck, closer now than he was before. 

“It’s cool”, I played it off but my cheeks were bright red. I hoped the rest of the group didn't notice how obviously turned on I was by him. I let myself relax a but more into him, snuggling more against his chest. I tried to ignore the obvious poking sensation I felt at the base of my back. Clearly JJ was trying to stay as calm as possible too. 

Pope finally finished his story, Kie looking a bit surprised at the new learned information. That could be a problem later, I thought. “JJ, your turn. Truth or dare?” 

“Hit me with your worst, bro. Can’t scare me.” JJ’s voice was loud in my ear, “dare.”

“I was hoping you’d pick that. I felt JJ’s chest vibrate against me as he took a deep breath. “Clearly something is going on there”, Pope motioned to our closeness. “I dare you to kiss, y/n. Nothing too much, just whatever your feeling” 

Everyone in the group goes quiet. I feel a rush of cold wind hit my face. Why, why, why is all I could think. I wasn't even sure if JJ even really wanted to do this or if it was beer and weed making him so reactive to my touch. 

“Pope, really?” JJ’s face was angry, his voice hot as metal left out in the summer sun. 

“Well. you don't have to but that does make you the loser.” Pope smirked.

“I aint no pussy bro, and I definitely aint a loser.” I felt JJ turn me a little, pulling my face closer to his. I stayed quiet, a chill running through me as I met his eyes. JJ met my gaze for what seemed to be minutes. He finally broke away, looking down at my lips. He moved his hand from my thigh and placed it softly on my chin, bringing my lips at the perfect angle for him to finally place his. He leaned in softly, his lips soft and plump. It felt like heaven and i didnt want to stop. I could tell he didn't either/ The kiss grew a bit heavier. To be honest I forgot the whole group was staring at us. JJ let out a deep groan, moving his hand down my back, arching it a bit to add more force. 

I hear someone clear their throat, making me rip away suddenly. It was clear the energy has changed amongst us. JJ looked a bit spooked, like he could tell if what just happened was real or not. 

“I think that calls it. I'm going to bed”, John Spoke out. 

“Yeah, I should probably be heading home. Parents ya know,” Pope laughed. 

The group made their separate ways, leaving me and JJ hot and gasping for air. We sat obviously still, both of us too afraid to move. Too afraid to speak. 

[unpredictable-probabilities]

What Lies Beyond Fear

Summary:

Dream decides to visit Hob a day earlier than their agreed appointment.

He learns about modern-day Halloween traditions, and what it means to have nothing to fear.

Word Count: 4,635

Notes (more at the end):

For All Hallows Sadman 2024 hosted by @mr-sadman 🎃

Prompt: Trick or Treat

[Read on AO3]

---

Dream ducks under fake cobwebs hanging on trees and sidesteps around a candy stall as he makes his way to The New Inn. He could, of course, have just appeared on its doorstep, but he finds that he likes the walk, as it reminds him of the first time he took the path. The first time he had seen Hob again after more than a century.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow on the pub as Dream draws closer, and he sees a poster on its wall advertising an upcoming Halloween party tomorrow. Drinks would be at a discounted price if one were to attend in costume.

“My friend!”

Dream turns his gaze away from the poster to look at Hob, already approaching him from the other side of the open doorway.

“You're here early,” Hob smiles when he reaches him. “I'm not complaining, though.”

Dream finds that it is easy to return the smile. It always is now. With Hob.

“I simply took your advice and accepted more help with my work from Lucienne and Matthew. They all but pushed me out of my own castle when I said I wanted to visit you a day earlier than what we agreed on.”

Hob beams at him, and it makes something warm bloom in Dream’s chest. “Well, I should remember to thank them later. Wanna come inside, then?” he nods to the interior of the pub.

Dream nods, and Hob leads the way inside to their usual table, talking about how the Halloween party was a spontaneous idea that only came about less than a week ago.

Dream keeps his eyes on Hob the entire time, not wanting to miss a moment of it. His feet have memorised the way to their table, and so he is free to give his full attention to his friend.

He has grown rather fond of Hob's face this century; the way his eyes light up when telling a story, how he gestures with his hands more as his excitement grows, as if his body couldn't possibly contain all the happiness he is feeling, the way his eyebrows lift and his lips quirk up in a smile when Dream says something he finds surprising. That was what he endeavoured to see today, why he surprised Hob with his unannounced visit. Needless to say, the reality of it is even better than his expectations.

“Is Halloween also celebrated as a romantic event nowadays?” Dream asks curiously as they sit across from each other.

“What? No, why?” Hob furrows his eyebrows.

“I see the daydreams of your patrons. A handful of them are hoping to ask someone as their date to your gathering tomorrow. They have romantic intentions.”

“Oh!” Hob chuckles. “No, humans just do that. Ask someone to be their date to parties as an excuse to spend time together.”

Dream tilts his head a fraction to the side. “I am not certain I understand the need for such an excuse. Would it not be simpler to ask to spend time together regardless of gatherings?”

“Well, you know,” Hob looks down and picks up the round cardboard coaster, tapping the side idly on the table. “Sometimes it's scary to ask that, especially if you don't know what the other person likes to do. It's easier to invite them to a party, where there's already something to do.”

“Ooh Professor G! I didn’t know you’d bring a date!” a young lady wearing a witch’s cape and hat playfully says.

Hob chuckles good-naturedly. “Ah no, this is Dream. My—”

“Date. Yes. I am Hob’s date this evening.” Dream smiles at Hob.

Dream blinks himself out of Hob’s daydream. He always makes an effort to respect the privacy of his friend’s thoughts, but that particular one was so sharp and sudden that it caught him off-guard.

Curious. Hob daydreams of people mistaking him as his date. And him confirming it with a smile. That does not make sense. It would imply that Hob has romantic feelings for him. And why would he, when he has lived among humans for nearly seven centuries and experienced all their warmth and joviality?

Before this century they had only had six meetings, none of which had lasted a full day. Surely Hob would not prefer the cold aloofness of him compared to all the interesting humans within his reach in his daily life.

“Dream? Are you alright?” Hob’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

Dream focuses on his friend once more. “Yes. I was merely… pondering.”

“A penny for your thoughts, then?” Hob’s expression is open, encouraging. As he has always been after Dream told him the reason behind his absence in 1989.

Dream could ask. About Hob’s daydream. It is normal for friends to ask questions.

“I hope my sudden appearance has not intruded on any prior plans.”

Hob raises an eyebrow. “That’s what you were thinking about?”

Dream glances down. It is also normal for friends to be considerate of another’s time. And much more acceptable than inquiring upon one’s private thoughts.

“Don’t worry about that, mate, I’m always glad to see you. I have to chaperone a friend’s kids later tonight for trick-or-treat, but until then we can just be here. Unless you wanna chaperone with me.”

Dream looks at Hob again, trying to discern if he correctly interpreted the hopefulness in that last remark.

“You don’t have to, of course,” Hob says hurriedly. He clears his throat. “The kids’ parents are my colleagues, and they have to attend a seminar tonight so they asked if I could chaperone their kids since they live nearby.” He looks at his watch. “That’s in a little over two hours from now, though. We have plenty of time.”

Dream wants to point out that that is not nearly enough time. That they spend several hours together in their weekly meetings, sometimes until late into the night when Dream remembers that immortal though he is, Hob’s body still needs sleep. At which point they would continue their conversations in the Dreaming, lounging in the couches in the library or under the shades of trees in Fiddler’s Green.

Therefore, no. Two hours is not plenty of time.

“Dream? Is it really bothering you?” The concern has returned in Hob’s eyes.

“I am merely puzzled by these new human traditions. In times past, when this festival had varying names, it was often associated with bonfires and commemoration of the dead. Plastic spiders and masked children asking for sweets are all quite new to me.”

“Ah, yeah, it was a bit surreal to me at first too,” Hob reminisces. “But it’s nice to see an old solemn festival evolve into something that makes people more cheerful, you know? There’s something beautiful in seeing happiness around you.”

Dream keeps his gaze on Hob, on the curve of his lips and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes when he smiles. The same man who had sat across from him talking about chimneys and playing cards and handkerchiefs with raw wonder in his voice.

Dream returns the smile. “Indeed. Perhaps I can learn more about Halloween in this century. If your offer to chaperone with you still stands.”

“Of course,” Hob says immediately, his face brightening in a way that further convinces Dream he made the right choice by proposing to extend their meeting past two meager hours. “Oh I forgot to get us food, sorry. Give me a moment.” He turns and calls the attention of one of his staff.

“You are aware that I do not need food.”

“Yeah, but you enjoy it,” Hob winks at him before turning to the waiter. “I’d like a strawberry scone and my usual coffee, and a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate for my friend.” He turns to Dream for confirmation.

“It appears you know me well,” Dream concedes.

Hob grins at him and thanks the waiter who promptly passes their order on to the kitchen.

They talk, as they always do in their meetings. Hob listens with rapt attention while Dream tells him of his work in his realm, and Dream wonders if Hob is aware that his own stories of how his week had gone captivate Dream in much the same way.  

Dream thinks it is because he is the Prince of Stories that Hob’s tales have such an effect on him, no matter how mundane they may seem. It is not until Hob asks if he wants to have another cup of hot chocolate that Dream realises it is quite the opposite; Hob sees him beyond his function, and wishes to spend time with him simply because they are friends. It is not something that he is overly familiar with. Spending time with a friend. He has far more experience being the Lord of Dreams. Although it appears that he finds more pleasure in being a friend. With Hob.

Two hours fly by quickly—as Dream had known they would—and Hob says that he should get dressed before picking up the kids at their house.

“Is there a dress code for Halloween?” Dream furrows his eyebrows.

“Of course. Costumes.” Hob grins. “Even the chaperones get dressed up here every year. Wanna come upstairs? You can read in the living room while I change.”

They vacate their table and go upstairs to Hob’s flat as they had done many times before. The motions are so familiar that the situation almost feels domestic. And Dream wonders if Hob feels it, too.

“Right then, make yourself at home,” Hob says easily when they reach his living room.

“Do you say this to all your friends? Offer your home as theirs?” Dream trails his fingers along the books on Hob’s coffee table. The stack is higher now than when he first came here. He sits down on the couch to peruse the titles along the spines, and finds that the books are those he had expressed a preference to in their previous meetings.

Hob falters in his step and stops walking. “Oh, um, I haven’t really invited anyone else over since I moved here. I’ve got all these things from my past lying around, like that vase from the 1800s, and that music box from 1902. And other things that would be more difficult to pass off as part of an art collection. It’s just easier if I don’t need to worry about explaining them.”

Dream glances around, realising what Hob means. He has decorated his home to have pieces of the different lives he had lived, has chosen to keep things from his past that he holds close to his heart and doesn’t want to forget.

And Dream is sitting among them.

Dream should say something. Friends express appreciation to each other, he recently learned. He should tell Hob how honoured he feels to be allowed to see all this, to share the same space as Hob’s most cherished memories. Hob should know about the blooming warmth in Dream’s chest, about how perhaps this place is beginning to feel like home to him as well.

“You should get changed.”

Hob blinks. “Ah, right. Won’t be long. There’s some food in the fridge if you want any.” He disappears into his bedroom.

Dream sighs. It seems that he is far more articulate as the Prince of Stories than he is as a friend.

He picks up a book from the top of the stack—a fantasy novel he had begun to read at a previous visit—and continues to read where he had left off, idly wondering how humans learned to express themselves through words.

Several minutes pass before he hears Hob’s voice again.

“That’s everything, I think. I considered an eye patch but I don't wanna be walking around at night with just one eye, especially since I'm chaperoning.”

Dream glances up from his book and sees Hob wearing black leather boots that nearly come up to his knees, brown trousers, a loose white v-neck shirt tucked in, and a long black coat with gold accents at the collar and cuffs. Around his waist is a wide brown leather belt affixed with a scabbard and a gun holster, holding a cutlass and a pistol, respectively. Both of which are evidently made of plastic.

Preoccupied as he had been with his sentiments about Hob and his home, Dream had not stopped to wonder what Hob’s costume might be. He wears it well. His padded thighs and broad shoulders carry the clothes splendidly, and there is a glimpse of chest hair from beneath the low neckline.

“Don't laugh at me,” Hob warns playfully.

Dream blinks and lifts his gaze to his friend's eyes.

“I've got a fake sword and I'm not afraid to use it.”

“You are a pirate.” The past several minutes have not returned eloquence to Dream.

“Yep. That pirate show’s still stuck in my head.”

“That does not look like the ensemble of Edward Teach.”

“Because I'm not wearing that much leather,” Hob says pointedly. “Otherwise I'll be sweating in half an hour.”

Dream huffs out a chuckle. “Am I correct to assume that friends wear matching costumes on Halloween?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Why?”

Dream closes his eyes and conjures the image in his mind. The black leather boots, the black shirt tucked loosely in black trousers, the low neckline mostly covered by the black scarf tied neatly around his neck. The ring on his left index and little fingers, inlaid with rubies. The rapier hanging by the black belt around his hips.

He opens his eyes and stands up, neatly returning the book to the coffee table.

Hob is staring at him with his mouth open, his eyes running over every detail of Dream's clothing as if intending to imprint them in his memory.

Dream smiles in satisfaction at Hob's reaction. “I do like the Gentleman Pirate’s attire but I have a preference for black. I do not think he would mind the colour change.”

Hob blinks and meets his gaze. “You… Is that a real sword?”

Dream glances down at it and waves his hand to change it into plastic. “Not anymore.”

Hob chuckles, seeming to shake himself out of a trance. “Why a pirate, too?”

“I want everyone to know we are together.”

The smile melts off Hob’s face and he swallows, eyes flicking down to Dream’s mouth.

Hob surges forward to press their lips together, his hands cupping Dream's face—

Dream nearly gasps as he closes the walls around Hob's daydream. It is even more vivid than the last.

It is rare for him to manifest a heart in his human form. He finds no point to it, and oftentimes it simply slips his mind to form one.

Yet now it thuds inside his ribcage, every beat echoing in his ears like a measure of a song saying Yes, I want that. Now.

Dream swallows and puts his hands behind his back, gripping his wrist in order to prevent himself from grabbing at Hob and pushing him against his shelf of memorabilia, imprinting another memory into his mind and body that he shan't soon forget.

Dream looks at the door and takes a steadying breath. “Shall we go, then? I do not wish to make you late for the children.” And they will be quite late indeed if Dream were to fulfill their daydreams now.

“Oh, right, yeah. Let's go.”

The air outside is refreshing, calming Dream’s heart into a more even rhythm and clearing his mind.

They pass by other children and adults wearing costumes, some carrying plastic jack-o'-lanterns with candy inside.

Dream listens to Hob talk about more of the city's Halloween traditions, wondering why he had not noticed Hob’s feelings for him before. Why he had not noticed his own.

Hob puts a protective arm out in front of Dream when a motorcycle speeds past, as if Dream could be harmed by such things. They continue on walking, with Hob talking about the unfortunate lack of sidewalks before moving on to more positive things like the free candy tonight at The New Inn for trick-or-treaters and regular customers alike.

Dream watches the light of the setting sun reflect in Hob’s eyes, remembering the first instance of Hob protecting him, all those centuries ago. He had not seen Hob's daydreams then, but he felt them at the corner of his mind. And before he could be tempted to confirm if they wanted the same thing at that moment, he cut their meeting short. He did not wish to risk Hob’s life—immortal he may be—just for the sake of his own fleeting urges.

Now there is no risk of hurt or capture for either of them. Perhaps, instead of wondering why he did not notice such feelings after his return many months ago, it is more important to wonder what he will do next. Now that he knows.

They reach the house of Hob’s friends, and pleasantries are exchanged with introductions. The kids, Noah and Oliver, know Hob as their parents’ friend from the times that they all went to The New Inn. The boys dressed as their favourite superheroes—Batman and Superman, as Hob helpfully whispers to him—and they immediately adore the pirate costumes that Hob and Dream are wearing.

After their parents remind them to get along with other kids and listen to their chaperones, the boys excitedly run ahead to wait for them on the street, bouncing on their heels as they wait for the grown-ups to finish their conversations.

Hob's friends mention an upcoming holiday trip, and Dream is struck by the realisation that the spouses look at each other in much the same way that Hob looks at him.

He tenses and waits for fear to set in. He has had lovers in the past, and their relationships ended in ruin. He will not—must not—allow the same thing to happen between him and Hob.

Dream is so lost in his thoughts that he barely registers when the farewells happen and they join the kids.

They walk down the streets and Noah teases his younger brother about being scared of the older kids’ costumes of ghosts and ghouls.

“I'm not scared!” Oliver says indignantly in his high voice.

Dream feels a small hand grasp his. He looks down and sees the boy’s green eyes looking at him in concern.

“You're quiet, Mister Dream. Are you scared?” Oliver is still holding his hand reassuringly.

Dream glances at Hob and sees that his friend is smiling fondly at him. Those warm brown eyes that welcomed him without question even after he had stormed out of their meeting and was absent in the next. The gaze that belongs to the man who never doubted that he would return and built a new place for him to return to.

“No,” Dream answers Oliver without looking away from Hob. “I am not scared.”

“Hurry, Oli!” Noah calls out from a few paces ahead. “Mum says we're not allowed to separate!”

Oliver lets go of Dream’s hand and runs to his brother.

“Oi!” Hob calls after him. “Your mum also said not to separate from us!”

The boys give no indication that they heard Hob, and instead approach the nearest house to ring the doorbell.

Hob chuckles and shakes his head as he turns to Dream. “You're really okay with doing this?”

“I am. These children tonight have loud daydreams of their favourite sweets and eating them while in their costumes. It is good to see them fulfill that happiness. I had… forgotten. How much every little daydream matters.” Dream looks around at the little superheroes and princesses and fairies walking around the street, and he feels himself smile.

When he turns back to his friend, Hob is watching him with a smile of his own.

“It's good to see you happy,” Hob says with such sincere softness that makes something like yearning twinge in Dream’s chest.

“Mister Hob! Mister Dream! Let's go!” Oliver is holding his brother's hand and is excitedly waving for them to continue walking.

They meet some of Hob's neighbours along the way and get compliments on their costumes, and Hob invites them to tomorrow’s Halloween party at The New Inn.

Plastic pumpkin baskets get filled, and eventually Noah and Oliver grow tired of walking and sit on a bench to peruse their hoard.

Hob goes to buy refreshments at a food stall nearby while Dream stays to guard the kids, standing a few steps away from the bench and looking around with interest at the jack-o'-lanterns that have now been lit all over the park.

“That's a lot of candy you got.” An unfamiliar kid’s voice catches Dream’s attention.

He turns to see that three teenage boys have approached Noah and Oliver, wearing shiny robot costumes that look particularly expensive.

“Yeah…” Oliver says timidly and protectively hugs his pumpkin basket close to his chest.

“Now, that's not nice,” says the tallest kid. “Didn't your mum teach you to share?” He reaches for Oliver's basket—

Noah stands up and squares his shoulders, looking up at the older kids. “Didn't your mums teach you not to steal?”

The tall kid sneers and steps forward, and in that moment Dream bends the shadows and appears directly behind the bench, facing them.

“The night is still young, children. And reward is only sweet when it is earned,” Dream says evenly, his eyes black pools with bright stars in the center.

The older kids stare at him in horror and stumble all over themselves in their haste to run away.

“They left,” Oliver says in awe, watching the kids turn and disappear around a corner.

“It must have been your brother's bravery that daunted them.” Dream blinks and his eyes are once more blue.

“Daunted…” Noah furrows his eyebrows in thought and turns to Dream. “That means scared, right?”

“Indeed,” Dream smiles. “It appears you are smart as well. You make for an excellent Batman.”

Noah beams. Then he gets a chocolate bar from the depths of his basket. “For you, Mister Dream!”

Dream looks down in surprise at the offering in the child’s open palm. “But you worked for it. It is yours.”

“Our mum did teach us how to share,” Noah grins. “With friends.” He holds his palm higher.

Dream is rendered speechless. He does not need air but for a few moments he feels short of breath. Then he smiles and takes the chocolate bar. “Thank you, Noah.”

Hob arrives carrying big cups of fruit shakes in a paper bag. “Everyone alright?” He begins to distribute the cups.

“Yes!” Oliver exclaims, showing his full basket. “Let’s get back home and share these with mum and dad!”

The fruit drinks seem to have replenished the children's energy, and they jog and bounce along the sidewalk on the way back to their house.

Their parents have returned and have already prepared dinner for them. Oliver regales them with the tale of how his brother defended them from bullies, and as a reward they are allowed to have some of their candy before dinner.

Farewells are exchanged, and Hob and Dream make their way back to The New Inn.

“I saw what you did, you know,” Hob says as they leisurely walk under the light of streetlamps. “I can't believe you scared those kids like that,” he chuckles.

“Hm?” Dream hums with feigned innocence. “Noah did not want to give them treats. So I gave them a trick instead. Is that not how this holiday works?”

Hob laughs, a bright sound that makes Dream continually grateful for this night. “Not exactly, no.”

“Then I suppose I should stay longer so that I might learn more.”

“Well, you know I'll never complain about that. We can stay at the pub or in my flat, wherever you like. Could make us some dinner too, if you want.”

“I was thinking about a longer duration than that.”

“We’ll go to the Dreaming afterwards? Yeah, of course.”

Dream stops walking and Hob follows suit, looking at him questioningly.

“Hob Gadling. Will you do me the honour of being my date to The New Inn’s Halloween party?”

Hob’s lips part and a tinge of scarlet colours his cheeks.

Dream smiles. “You arranged for the party to happen tomorrow, on the day you were expecting me to visit. Am I wrong to assume you wanted me there?”

“No,” Hob says quickly. “I did want you there. I do. It's just… Date? How'd you mean…?”

“I mean,” Dream takes a step forward, making the blush on Hob's face even more prominent. “That I have romantic intentions and wish to be the priority of your attentions tomorrow. If you would be amenable.”

“What— Yes!” Hob laughs again, relief and delight evident in his voice. “How… How long have you… felt that way?” His gaze is vulnerable, hopeful.

“I confess I do not know,” Dream glances down for a moment. “But I know how I feel now. And if you feel the same…” He takes another step forward and transports them both back to Hob’s flat. “I have some plans in mind.”

Hob gasps in surprise at the sudden teleportation and stumbles backwards into his shelf of memorabilia, rattling some of the objects.

A smile curves Dream's lips, a coil of hunger beginning to awaken within him.

“What… Plans?” Hob blinks, pupils dilating at what he saw in Dream's expression.

Dream reaches up and slowly undoes his scarf. Hob’s gaze drops to his neck and follows every movement of his fingers.

Dream tosses the scarf to the floor, revealing the low neckline of his shirt showing much of his pale chest and collarbones.

“God almighty,” Hob breathes, and his tongue runs across his bottom lip.

Hob's daydreams wash over Dream, loud and colourful and vivid that Dream feels nearly intoxicated with them.

Dream takes a breath and steps forward, placing one hand on the shelf beside Hob’s head to steady himself. His friend's eyes widen as Dream leans in close enough that their noses are almost touching.

“I can taste your daydreams, Hob,” Dream's voice almost wavers, his restraint hanging by the barest threads of his willpower. “I should like to taste the reality of them.”

Hob swallows, and a trembling exhale escapes him. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then thinks better of it and simply cups Dream's face in his hands and presses their lips together.

Hob's lips are impossibly soft, and his calloused hands a comforting warmth around Dream as one slides down the back of his neck to pull him closer.

Dream places his hands on Hob’s waist and licks at the seam of his mouth, eliciting a moan as Hob's tongue eagerly meets his. He deftly unbuckles Hob’s belt, dropping it to the ground along with the plastic weapons in its holsters.

Hob fumbles around Dream’s belt with trembling fingers, tossing it to the ground as well and kicking it out of the way as they stumble across the corridor to his bedroom, Hob’s coat falling off his shoulders in their journey.

“Please tell me this isn't a trick,” Hob pants against his lips as he opens the bedroom door and they pour through the doorway.

“Not at all,” Dream feels himself to be equally breathless and a fond playful smile curves his lips. “I should like to have you as a treat. If you will have me.”

Hob captures Dream's mouth again in response, dragging him over to the bed as he blindly pushes the door close.

Down at the busy pub, customers enjoy the free candy and new Halloween decorations, as well as the songs playing from the jukebox that drown out any sound that might be coming from the owner’s flat above.

---

Notes:

The whole idea of Dream thinking about his feelings for Hob while they're walking around outside is inspired by this fic written by @beatnikfreakiswriting <3 I had read it shortly before starting to write this fic. It's a lovely and adorable read!

----

(All Hallows Sadman 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[fantomette22]

A little something about the students dress

Alright so I was looking at references (to draw a character) and ended up doing a bit of research on academic dresses & graduations uniforms! I only find a couple of things so if someone have more infos I will be very interest!

So in Bloodborne we got those dear uniforms :

The one with the robes is very classic of what people in old classic university still wear for big events and graduations such as in the U.S.A or UK. A decades/century ago they did wore those uniforms of course way more often. Now we wear mostly casual clothes.

(This image always made me think of Byrgenwerth. With the balcony and all. That remind me of a post I made a while ago I have still no clue what those balcony were use for!!!)

At first, I discovered that between a bachelor/licence degree, master degree and phd/doctorate you aren't going to get the same clothes. Plus, colours can differ depending of : the level of the degree, the school or the field you graduate in (can differ depending the countries as well).

Bachelor outfits are the most simple ones with not a lot of colours for most of them. Sometimes they don't have hoods but depends. Sometimes they seems to have very large selves like the Byrgenwerth one. The master ones have a bit more colours and I read generally long sleeves but that depends? Then the phd/doctorate ones are generally very colourful! And like the last sources below v They even had even more beautiful outfit for very important members (so I guess Willem pope outfit still make sense XD)

As for the colors it really depends the country etc but I read red is often associated with medicine and surgery (what a coincidence!). White / purple or even red is for theology and blue could be for sciences (Byrgenwerth/willem researches seems to be quite a mixt with theology/sciences so make sense).

(@katyspersonal we did talk a while back on colours on clothes meaning but hey it had have academic significations that fit well too! So in the end, drawing Laurence with white & red clothes is even more accurate now! XD) Oh I wanna draw him in an entire red academic dress now...Future drawing idea ).

Also I forgot to mentions that there's the hat/trencher that's part of it as well. It's not part of the set in the game but ennemies have it.

Also little side note: some dress have stripes or ermine bands on the clothes that represents their grades and also "academic curiosity, academic honesty, and academic courage."

So i suppose the garb Micolash, Damian & co have would look more similar to a master degree one? I guess?

But I won't throw any rocks at Fromsoftware even if the ones we got might not be too much detailed/ accurate because they sure did their homeworks to find and design those clothes. They aren't historians and they probably found a lot more things than I here (plus Japan don't have those dresses too). They're not going to design like 5 different outfits in the game too XD. (Yes I want more details for my story bc making things way more complicated is way more accurate I guess...) We don't know how exactly those types of institutions fonctions in Bloodborne universe too. And it's a fantasy world after all. So it's free real estate

I dunno if you guys @pyro-madder @karnaca78 @secteel or others could know more about it 🤔

But for now it's all!

Sources :

PS : I found this piece of medieval scholar dress and it really look like the same as the guy in the cainhurst painting and cut content Beltran!

They are probably wearing a "simarre". Some magistrate/ university professor / religious clothes people would wear. So pretty oblivious and what we thought @heraldofcrow

[fatuismooches]

I'M BITING MY HANDS I NEED MORE ZANDIK AT THE ACADEMY.

I love the little zandik at the academy, I love webttore, I love the grown-up dottore with gray hair and a little wrinkles. Ohh I can't😣😣

I NEED THEM ALL.

Cooked up some more Akademiya Dottore hcs for you anon...

Whenever he wore the Akademiya's hat with his uniform, you'd always steal it and he'd get mad, but eventually he gave up and let you hog it. It's probably a little big on you and as revenge, he'd make fun of you for looking dumb. Same with his clothes, for some reason you'd wear his Akademiya uniform to sleep sometimes? Zandik doesn't understand but every time he tries to pull it off of you, he's been unsuccessful, so he'll just let you be a strange little human since it seems to be working for your productivity... Centuries later he's learned to deal with a few shirts going missing and then you returning them after a while because they 'lost his scent.' (He wears the same outfit anyway, no big deal).

Thanks to you, there were quite a few times the professors actually listened to him. Other peers pretty much never vouch or stand up for him so it does make them think a bit when a student such as yourself does do it so vehemently. Zandik says you don't need to waste your time on it since he doesn't really care what they think, but he did manage to get a few more research opportunities thanks to you. In the beginning, he was pretty much clueless on how to express some sort of gratitude since he couldn't force out the words 'thank you' for the life of him. It was very funny for you to watch.

Group projects become so much better once the two of you get comfortable with each other. Both of you have been victims of doing all the work. You were quite excited to work with someone like him because you know of his intelligence and how he gets down to business. Meanwhile, Zandik was quite skeptical and annoyed to work with you in the beginning because he thought you were just another person who would end up leeching off him again.

However, he was surprisingly yet pleasantly proven wrong. He's especially impressed with your writing in the reports/essays, but he's never going to admit that. At least not now. The synergy between you two and your minds is something he doesn't know how to deal with at first, having dealt with so many of the opposite situations, but it's one of the biggest things that Zandik grows to be appreciative of.

When the semester is over, all students need to leave/clear the dorms until the next semester begins. Most return to wherever home is, but of course that's not something Zandik has, so most times he manages to rent out a place for a while. When you met him in the beginning he would just disappear to Archons knows where and then come back as if nothing happened next semester.

It takes a long time for him to tell you. When he does, he claims that he regrets it due to how often you show up to bother him, but in reality, he finds himself lonely without your company. As even more years go by, eventually he "invites" you to live with him. ("Invites" as in he never directly says it. Just drops subtle hints so you would ask him first instead). You're just happy to be able to cook for him more often (and 24/7 cuddles!!) (Just me trying to push my domestic Zandik and Reader agenda).

Just frequently being with each other but not needing to interact with the other. Both of you just do your own things in the peace of knowing the other's there.

Doesn't like when you ask others for help when he's literally right there. Please ask your genius scholar bf first. It doesn't matter what the problem is. Just ask him otherwise he'll get huffy and glare at you. No, you're not wasting his time by doing so. Rather, you're wasting both his and your time when you decide to go to other people first!

Coming home from expeditions. For some reason despite how tired you are, you want to feed stray kitties. It becomes a sort of tradition for you two.

This one was said a while ago, but I'll bring it back again (x, x, x) but you needing to wipe Zandik's hands because he keeps breaking pens and splattering ink everywhere. Whenever you see he gets a little too excited, you swipe the pen and start writing light-speed so he doesn't try to steal it from you for being 'too slow.'

[bloodydesires-if]

Bloody Desires: The Cure - Intro Post

Demo TBA (Twine) | Itch.io Page

Bloody Desires: The Cure is a supernatural interactive fiction set in the 21st century. When the Vampiric Round Table (VRT) summons you to New York, you have no choice but to go. The VRT has learned of a credible rumor that a cure for vampirism is somewhere out there. But your kind aren’t the only ones searching for it. The dangerous supernatural exterminators, Heaven’s Hunters, seek the cure to wipe vampires from existence.

18+ for violence, blood, death, sexual themes, explicit language, and morally gray storylines.

Embark on a bloody adventure featuring:

6 unique MC backstories;

3 clans to choose from (Viscardi, Crescendo, Saleyrn);

characters, both supernatural and mortal, who you can form alliances and relationships with (or piss off?);

the ability to play as non-binary, male, female, cis, or trans;

opportunities to level up your skills for the fight ahead; 

multiple endings. 

Learn more about the backstories and companion characters below.

The following companions have platonic and romantic routes.

Kieran Collins - The Shifter

137 years old (looks early 30s) | Irish | male | he/they

Kieran is a shifter who takes on the form of a wolf. They have full control of when they shift, although it can be painful if they shift too often between resting. In his human form, he relies on knives and has spent his life studying supernatural rituals and artifacts. 

Charlotte St. Claire - The Deadly English Rose

28 years old | English | female | she/her

Charlotte is a Londoner with a dark past, having spent a large portion of her life entangled with the dangerous underworld of London. This path led to her imprisonment by a group of vampires who treated her as their personal blood bag. After escaping on the precipice of her death, she was found by Kieran who took her under his wing. 

River Silvius - The Witch

32 years old | American | non-binary | they/them

River is the youngest witch in their family and was raised in the state of Washington. They are currently a professor at the New York Institute of Witchcraft, the premier witchcraft college in North America. They sometimes work on cases with Bennett. 

Katerina Kallergis - The (Other) Vampire

282 years old (looks late 20s to early 30s) | Greek | female | she/her

Katerina is a vampire who was born in Greece almost three-hundred years ago. She despises vampirism - including herself and other vampires. Not much is known about members of her clan, the Infinitum, as they are a tight-knit group of vampires who value privacy and usually avoid other supernaturals as much as possible. 

Bennett Williams - The Cowboy

31 years old | American | male | he/him

Bennett grew up on a ranch in Texas, where he was the only survivor of a Heaven’s Hunters (HH) attack that wiped out his family, including his sister who was a Witch and the intended target. He is currently a private investigator for supernaturals and their families. He is fond of his cowboy hat and shotgun and wears an eyepatch on his left eye. 

There will be additional characters who play their own role in the story, including members of the Vampiric Round Table, clan leaders, Heaven’s Hunters, and more. However, this post would be too long to list all of those people.

Here’s a brief look at the six possible backstories for MC. Subject to change if needed by the author.

Shadow of War World I

Born: 1896 - London, England | Turned: 1915 - Loos-en-Gohelle, France

Born in the heart of London, your life brimmed with dreams. But those were overshadowed by the devastating turmoil of World War I. You were driven by a sense of duty at 19 years old and enlisted alongside your best friend from secondary school. After watching your best friend fall in combat, you were overwhelmed by survivor’s guilt and were left trying to navigate the war-torn world without them. Eventually, you were dying on a different battlefield, reminded of them. But as the darkness closed in, so did a vampire…

Shadow of the Roaring 20s 

Born: 1898 - New York, NY | Turned: 1922 - New York, NY

Born to a working-class family in the heart of New York City, you spent the entirety of your mortal life there. Your Sire was drawn to you as soon as you entered the speakeasy that fateful night… as your connection with your Sire grew, so did both of your desires to never lose each other. A year after being turned, a relentless group of vampire hunters took them from you as they sacrificed themself for your sake...

Shadow of the Spanish Renaissance 

Born: 1608 - Barcelona, Spain | Turned: 1635 - Madrid, Spain

Born to a merchant family in bustling Barcelona, your early years were spent comfortably and your family hoped you would follow in their footsteps. But your passions lay elsewhere. You found yourself inspired by artists such as Coello and Velázquez, and frequented libraries and salons. As you grew older, the weight of familial obligations bore down upon you. One night while you were in Madrid visiting friends, a vampire approached you with a proposal…

Shadow of the French Revolution

Born: 1770 - Vizille, France | Turned: 1799 - Paris, France

Born to a family of budding rebels in Vizille, you experienced the backdrop of social unrest and discontent. As the revolution began to spread across France, you found yourself at the midst of it in Paris. It is there that your Sire became fascinated by your sense of justice and chose you to be their eternal descendent. Against your deepest desires, you were thrust into immortality, a fate you never sought, as your original intention was simply to fight for the betterment of humanity…

Shadow of the Zhou Dynasty

Born: 890 B.C. - Western Zhou | Turned: 867 B.C - Western Zhou

Born into a prestigious family, you spent much of your time at court, learning from tutors and schemers alike. As a young adult, you were caught in the crossfires of a power struggle within the court. Betrayed by those you once trusted, you were the victim of an assassination attempt. You only remember your eyes closing….and then waking up as a vampire, your sire nowhere in sight…

Shadow of the Nile

Born: 1050 B.C. - Tanis, Egypt | Turned: 1023 B.C - Thebes, Egypt 

Born to a family of esteemed lineage, you were raised in the sacred walls of the Temple of Amun-Ra in preparation for your future as a religious figurehead. You did eventually become an important leader in Thebes during a time of political imbalance. But then you died. When you awoke, a vampire was watching over you with an amused look. They swore to have found you already dying in an alley…

-----

Asks are welcome if you so desire, however, I won't be doing NSFW reactions or long reactions at this time. I will still do some regular reactions and answer general NSFW. Thanks!

P.S. please let me know if there's an error in the post, thanks <3

[vitaminseetarot]

🎃Pick-a-Card: Halloween Costume Ideas 🎃

Hey y'all, I'm back around for a Halloween reading cause it's time to get a little hyped for it. I know sometimes we can feel like the season doesn't have the magic we're looking for, but a video I watched on Youtube recently reminded me that it's often we who must go out and create that magic for ourselves and others. So regardless of who arrives at my door for candy, I will dress up and decorate the living space with gourds, skeletons, and stuffed bats and scorpions.

It's not always easy to have a costume picked out, or to narrow many ideas down to one, but no fear for I have looked into the cards to see a list of costumes that could pique your interest. Each pile can contain many costume choices, but there may be an underlying theme to each one, so see if any of the costumes ring a bell to you. If not, feel free to choose another pile. The costume you like is the one that's right for you (as long as it's appropriate, of course).

Pile 1 - #20 🎨🕯 Pile 2 - #31 🌸🌈 Pile 3 - #21 🔍🌿 Pile 4 - #41 🌳🦇 Pile 5 - #04 💀🌟

Pile 1 - #20 🎨🕯

{Student, Acolyte, Sun in Pisces - Vision, Word Art, Cancer Rising - Care; 8 of Coins, 9 of Cups, VIII Strength, King of Swords, 8 of Wands, King of Wands}

Pile 1, I sense you're the group most drawn (heh) to creating your own costume. This could be something you make entirely from scratch if you have experience in working with fabrics. You could be studying in an art program or be developing some kind of skill in designing and crafting. Because of this, you may have an inclination towards student or academia related costumes. Some of you may be into My Hero Academia, it could relate to super powers or the supernatural in some way. You could also go the other direction and dress as a teacher or professor, especially one with an outfit that stands out (Miss Frizzle, anyone?) Her dress is very colorful and I see this as a pile with the taste for a wide color palette. You also have a wide imaginative scope of the possibilities, not only for what costume to narrow down to but in all the different styles and techniques you could bring to make it truly your own. I'm getting that this is what you have a talent in and perhaps picked this pile to see what kinds of styles and additions you could add to something you may already be working on, like adding charms to your witch hat. You have confidence in your abilities as an artist due to the passion and love you put into nurturing your art to life.

If you don't feel that way now, then try to experiment and see your crafts as a lion cub that needs to be watched over. The Strength and King of Wands cards inspired me to phrase it that way. There's also a lynx depicted in the Vision card. Perhaps you could be into making a cat related costume, like Black Panther, Ichigo Momomiya, Chat Noir, Catwoman, or even anthropomorphic cats like Tai Lung, Pink Panther, and Meowth. Or it could be a totally original costume you create that incorporates feline elements like a lioness warrior suit, or as Alice but with the Cheshire Cat wrapped around like a scarf. Otherwise, I'm getting a lot of ideas related to magic or supernatural school/apprentice themed shows like the Owl House, Umbrella Academy, or Ever After High. A show that you're really into now that's based on an older series or franchise like Riverdale High could also bring up ideas for you.

If you're really passionate about art in particular, you could go as a popular artist like Bob Ross. Word Art refers to expression in general but you could choose to incorporate a funny message or sign into your costume. That could be due to the overall retro feeling I'm getting with this pile. If you're crafty but still feeling casual, one idea could be to wear a retro t-shirt that just says "VHS" but add it with some matching accessories like cassette tape earrings and leg warmers. There is a large desire to get innovative and creative with this pile, even if working on a budget, even if using supplies on hand. "Try, make mistakes! Try again. Perfection does not exist." It matters less that the costume is a perfect recreation of a fictional character and more important that it fits you comfortably and reflects your authentic self. Flaunt what you got! Let the costume creation be as fun as the celebration.

Pile 2 - #31 🌸🌈

(Child: Eternal, The Assassin, Hiding in Clothing Racks, Mercury in Libra - Influence, Sagittarius Rising - Adventure; II High Priestess, XVIII The Moon, Knight of Swords, IV Emperor, Knight of Cups, X of Swords)

Hey pile 2, I'm getting a wide variety of options for you. Maybe there's a few costume choices you've been cycling through. What comes out to me is the overall dark brooding energy of your costume. With the Assassin card, I'm thinking something involving dark robes and hoods would complement a mask or a fake sword. With the Moon next to High Priestess, you may be more inclined towards a haunting feminine dress, like a wailing ghost bride or siren. The porcelain doll look, like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas, is also another idea. Either haunting pale or shadowy black clothing may predominate the costume, though a touch of secondary color like light blue, silver, purple, or red will help it pop out more. Sadako from The Ring and Lydia from Beetlejuice also come to mind. Wednesday Addams… oh yeah, this pile is the goth pile for sure; even those of you who don't choose any costume may still find something dark and elegant to put on, like black lace up boots and eyeshadow.

There may be something you saw on social media or advertised in a store that made you inspired. A popular influencer, or just someone you follow closely online, may have put together a costume or decoration that gave you some ideas. For one example, watching crafting tutorials on how to make glittering potion bottles may spark an idea to go as an alchemist or a swamp witch. If you're looking for a way to jazz up on an old costume you've worn before, or you want to do a unique rendition of a more traditional costume choice, then it's worth peeking through Halloween tags to start brainstorming with. Want a different kind of vampire? Watch vampire media and videos discussing vampire media, but also see how combining or fusing it with another option works as well. You could go as a vampire pirate, (vampirate??) or a scaly alien vampire, or a vampire hunter like Hugh Jackman's Van Helsing.

Maybe there is a character you really want to go as but aren't sure as to how others would receive it. The costume you're thinking of could scare them, or be of an unpopular or not well known character. Some of you may want to go as a cartoon character but don't want to be seen as cartoony and silly? "What makes us happy if not how much we have, but how much we allow ourselves to enjoy." Halloween is a time to be not-yourself for a night to have childlike fun. There doesn't need to be one style each person sticks with: if you're a gothic person who wants a bright dress, or a festive person who'd rather look macabre, then what matters more is how you like your suit. Every good party leaves room for the perky goths.

Pile 3 - #21 🔍🌿

{Rebel, The Champion, Venus in Leo - Affair, Scratch-and-Sniff Stickers, Pisces Moon - Flow; 8 of Swords, 7 of Cups, Knight of Coins, XVIII The Moon, 2 of Wands, Queen of Swords}

Pile 3, you seem to be more drawn to action oriented costumes. This is the superhero pile, with the Rebel and the Champion here. Perhaps not just any superhero, but someone who doesn't like to play by the rules? I'm thinking classic comic book heroes like Spider Man, Iron Man, and Deadpool off the bat, but Nemona also comes to mind. A snarky and fun loving character who lives by their own value code. With Affair and Two of Wands, I'm reminded of Harley Quinn somehow. You may decide to dress up as one character and go with someone who matches or complements you in some way. So if you went as Harley they might go as the Joker or as Ivy, Deadpool with Wolverine, etc. I'm also reminded of swordfighting anime heroes like Kirito and Utena. I'm seeing a detective hero costume, too, with the scratch-n-sniff card? Perhaps as Sherlock, or someone from Dead Boy Detectives? Look up real investigative journalists like Nellie Bly, she might give you some ideas (like her long checkered trenchcoat).

You might go for another champion themed costume, like a knight or a boxing champion. A costume that almost makes you feel stronger for wearing it, something that makes you feel confident and look dazzling. If athletics isn't your thing, then I'm seeing the pendulum swing the other way into beauty. You may want to use Halloween as a way to put together and model a gorgeous outfit you thought of yourself. I'm seeing masquerade, so it could be a ball gown or a colorful dress that would look great in a photoshoot. Some of you may go as Chappell Roan. Even in heels and a feathery red dress, you may still feel heroic wearing it. I'm seeing Glenda the Good Witch with a sparkly dress, so you may be drawn to large dresses that have glitter or sequins in them. Your costume has a 3D effects with something like dragon wings or vines pop out as a big feature, or pleases other senses through accompanying music or perfumes.

You could be drawn to the more rebellious aspect of this pile. You could go as an activist or role model you look up to. Being a pirate might sound appealing, or a casual hippie tie-dye look. Halloween could be a chance to experiment with punk and grunge fashion. Rebellious may also refer to wanting to dress in something that's never been done before, a fully unique costume. "Everyone is on a journey unique to them. The world needs your uniqueness." Don't worry too much over whether your costume stands out or not. Once you have your costume idea narrowed down, start with one thing at a time. If you want to make interesting additions to your costume, like using lights or pulling strings, make sure to give yourself the time and space you need to bring it all together. You may find that blending different opposing elements together, or combining masculine and feminine traits to your clothes, can create something vibrant and original, like a dress/suit combo. Don't hold back your own ideas!

Pile 4 - #41 🌳🦇

{Queen, The Priest, Mars in Aries - Impulsiveness, Gazelle, Aquarius Rising - Appreciate; King of Wands, X Wheel of Fortune, 7 of Swords, I Magician, Queen of Cups, 9 of Wands}

Pile 4, this pile is most drawn to fantasy as a genre than the other four. I'm feeling the magic and myth here, fashion styles both historical and anachronistic. A mixture of baroque and steampunk? Or a 70's Rapunzel with a disco ball in her tower? Why not? Some of you could be into the more obscure animated Disney titles like Atlantis and Treasure Planet. I'm getting the movie Stardust as well. The early 00's films featured a blend of old and modern, like flying pirate ships and wizardly magic used alongside modern machines. This pile leans towards Miyazaki films, so you may be interested in going as Kiki or as Howl. With Queen of Cups and Queen, I see some might go as a royal mermaid, could be Ariel, but an extra regal version as I see decorative seashell crowns and jewelry. There could be religious or occult elements sprinkled in, like a ceremonial witch robe or a ghost nun. I'm thinking of movies like the Exorcist and the Wicker Man.

History may be big with this group, seeing as both legends and history require both consistency and great storytelling. If you decide to go as a royal figure like a queen, you may like to add different twists on the look. Like a zombified queen Victoria or a statuefied greek philosopher. With the horse in Impulsiveness and the gazelle, you might have a hobby horse, horse mask, or a centaur costume. If not horse, then a similar animal. I feel though that it's a costume that would tell a story, so a particular centaur from mythology like Chiron or a historical figure who rode on horseback like Napoleon. Your costume may feature an accessory that serves as a "companion", like a skeleton creature or eels to go with your mermaid outfit. A few of you may have been thinking about Daenerys from GoT? I've never watched it, but I imagine the dress would go well with tiny dragon figures perched on the shoulder. If you're going as an original character, you may be interested in having a backstory already in mind when people ask you who you are. If you're into DnD, I can see you going as your OC. Whatever stretches your imagination!

"We do not have nature, we are nature." I see you including a lot of natural themes into your costume. Flowers, possibly real, may be included in your dress or hair. You may decide to go as an elf or a nature spirit who is closely tied to the wooded or oceanic worlds. Characters with lots of nature power tied to them like Nashida from Genshin come to mind. I get that you already have a good idea of what you'd like to do, but feel reserved about it. In case of buyer's remorse? Maybe it's natural for you to want to wait until it's close to the holiday to completely decide on what to wear, to the point of not telling others what it's going to be up until the night of Halloween. It's for you to know, and for them to be surprised and remember.

Pile 5 - #04 💀🌟

{Destroyer, The Orator, Venus in Gemini - Flattery, Bear, Aries Rising - Act; 7 of Cups, King of Wands, Ace of Cups, II High Priestess, 10 of Swords, X Wheel of Fortune}

Hello pile 5, I'm really getting the strong feeling that your ideal costume choice for this Halloween will be a costume you already have. There may be a storage chest or closet full of dresses and props that haven't been used in a while. They are asking you to bring them out and give them a bit of a make-over. Bear strangely reminds me of "bear market", so perhaps you're trying to be frugal on spending anything this year. A costume you wore a couple years ago may have been expensive time or money wise, but that costume doesn't have to lay on a shelf forever. That Sephiroth ensemble you wore to the convention could be dismantled and reused into a new fallen angel or dark soldier uniform. The plague doctor mask can be reconfigured into an overall creepy bird monster or its robe could become a grim reaper robe. You don't have to look very far for ideas this year because it seems as though you already have plenty of supplies on hand. Additionally, there are a lot of thrift stores that offer discounted items that might be easily thrown together. Seven of Cups shows that there are many different items in your toolbox.

I really get that this pile loves the creepy, gross, and gorey aspects of Halloween, or is at least interested in incorporating these elements into a costume. I'm seeing aliens, not the friendly kind but the facesucking kind Ripley had to fight. Bugs, arachnids, and buglike cryptids also come to mind, like spiders or Mothman. You could have a dress with spider web patterns or go as a character like Miss Spider from James and the Giant Peach. If animals are more your style, I still see the costume as fierce and almost cartoonishly scary. You might choose to go as a predator like a bear or a wolf, or perhaps even a zombie deer costume. On the more animated end, you might go as Stitch or as Freddy Fazbear. I'm seeing large costumes, possibly even reused inflatable costumes.

"You already have everything you need. You are the answer." This pile reminded me of a costume rental store I once lived close to in childhood. It was so easy to stop by and say hello to the shop owner like a neighbor before renting out an Ursula or bat costume every year. You may be interested in recreating something like that, but with Act above Wheel of Fortune you will need to take action on the idea rather than wait for it to happen. For example, you could talk with your friends about making a costume swap event or a collaboration, or post something online in a local space to meet and swap with something else. Your pile card and Flattery both show that when at least two minds come together with the same idea in mind, you can create new ways to exchange and find new interesting costume choices on a budget.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[traningdummy]

Detective and Professor

Javier Peña X professor! Male Reader

(power bottom Javier is amazing is write, omg)

Javier sighed as he walked through his room, as today a class was coming through the department today. His chief had apparently approved the local college’s criminal justice class to come through. He wanted to stay out of the department, but his boss needed him to show them around.

After he got his clothes on he got his badge and left, loving the wind on his hair. When he made it to the department the class wasn’t there yet, so he decided to go inside to make sure his desk was clear. Yet when he walked inside, the class was already there.

Students left and right, each talking to cops, detectives, and new recruits. Javier sighed and tried to get through unnoticed till he bumped into someone. He almost fell before he caught himself.

“I am so sorry!” The person said, Javier sighed before looking at the person. The man was surprisingly very handsome, wearing a nice suit, with a possibly new hat. “Again, so sorry sir I’m looking for Javier Peña have you seen him?” The man asked and he sighed before nodding.

“That’s me, let me guess I’m supposed to show you around?” Javier said and the man sheepishly nodded.

“Students gather up!” The man yelled to his class, to Javier’s surprise they all listened. The man counted all of the students before nodding, and gave out some papers. “Remember, take notes as we will have a small worksheet about this tomorrow.” He informed the class, most nodded and a few others sighed.

“Let’s get the tour started.” Javier spoke and led them through the department, the evidence room, while also noticing the professor’s stare. Javier would catch him staring, he found it funny that the man was blatantly staring.

•••

The students all split up again, leaving Y/n with Javier. Both drinking coffee, Y/n’s face red as he was caught multiple times staring at Javier’s body. Javier had a smirk seeing the other man all flustered.

“What were you staring at?” Javier asked the professor as he took another sip of his coffee. The other man sputtered but didn’t answer as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Your ass, sorry if I invaded your space Javier.” Y/n mumbled, trying to be sincere but also not have his students hear him. He wouldn’t want to be tormented by them as well. “Please don’t tell my students anything.” He asked Javier who nodded.

“I don’t want to embarrass you that much, I never caught your name. What is it?” Javier asked and put down his mug.

“Oh, it’s Y/n L/n, I teach the criminal justice class at the college. Nice to meet you Javier.” He said and the two shook hands. They began to talk to one another, as the ice had broke. Y/n’s students saw their professor and knew they were going to mess with him.

•••

A few weeks after Y/n took his students to the department, he and Javier talked a lot. In his free time he would call the man to talk, or go to the department. On some rare occasions Javier would come to his classroom, sometimes when it’s empty but often when it’s full.

Javier became a class favorite during the weeks he came, always having interesting stories to provide to the class. Some good, and some not so good, he mostly had stories where he had sex to get information.

But Y/n fell hard for the man, having his heart always flutter whenever he came in unannounced. It felt like he was on cloud nine, and even his students could see the love in his eyes. They all shipped the two, always smiling whenever Javier came in to share another story.

So, with the help of a few of his students, he got the courage to ask Javier to the teacher student prom. A night where teachers can watch and even party with the students, with many restrictions imposed. But regardless every teacher got a plus one, and Y/n wanted it to be Javier.

So he went to the department after grading, thankfully he caught Javier as he was leaving. “Hey Javier!” He yelled to get the man’s attention. Javier looked over and gave a faint smile, putting away his suitcase and leaned against his car.

“Hey Y/n, let me guess you forgot another pen?” He asked, as it was Y/n’s usual excuse to hang out with Javier. The professor shook his head with a sheepish grin.

“No, I have all of mine, I double checked. I actually had a question to ask. Would you like to be my plus one to a dance?” Y/n asked, giving him a flyer for the dance. Javier looked at Y/n before skimming through, seeing it was legit.

“Hmm, I’ll see if I can make it. No promises.” He said, and Y/n nodded. He was happy the other man even considered the invitation. “See you later professor.” He said, getting into his car and drove off.

•••

The night of the dance was a stressful one for Y/n, he had to find a good suit. One that wasn’t too flashy yet enough to make him stand out a little. Yet once he was dressed and ready he headed to the campus.

When he arrived he got there early enough to help set up, saying his greetings to the other teachers. Yet sadly his suit got unwanted attention by a few of his colleagues. Feeling stares on his body as he walked around and helped, it made him feel uncomfortable but he didn’t say much.

Finally the dance was all set up, both students and teachers came flooding into the large gym. Y/n decided to stay near the drink station to make sure no one spiked the punch. Yet he also looked around for Javier.

Javier sighed as he looked into his closet, all he had were a few shirts and pants. It was a dance and he wanted to dress somewhat nice for Y/n, but he decided against it. Getting on what he thought looked good and left for the campus, following the directions on the flyer.

When he arrived there were already many people outside the gym. He parked his car and went into the gym, where he had to show his invite to a security guard. Inside there was music blaring, students dancing, teachers talking amongst themselves.

Yet as he looked he couldn’t find Y/n, so he went further in to get a better look around. Which was a terrible idea as many people crowded him, lightly shoving him around. Thankfully someone pulled him out of the chaos.

“Finally!” Y/n said as he pulled Javier to the drink stand. “You want some?” He asked and the man nodded, taking the cup from Y/n. “So you showed up, I’m glad.” He said with a smile, taking a sip from his own drink.

As the two talked to each other they enjoyed themselves. Even though the music was loud, students were yelling to talk to one another, they felt like it was only them in the room. But the mood was ruined when one of the teachers came up to them.

“Hey Y/n!” She said with a smile, she was obviously intoxicated as both men could smell the vodka on her breath. “Wanna have a dance?” She asked, and Y/n being too nice for his own good said yes.

“I’ll be back!” He yelled to Javier as he was dragged to the dance floor. Javier grumbled as he felt his throat feel constricted and it burned. He wanted to yell at the woman for taking Y/n, but he didn’t want to get in trouble.

Yet he watched Y/n and the woman like a hawk as they danced, making sure she kept her hands off of him. Yet whenever a slow song finally came on she had her hands on his shoulders. Y/n looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything as he ghosted his hands over her waist.

Yet whenever she squeezed Y/n’s ass, that was the straw that broke Javier’s patience. He stood up and went to Y/n’s rescue, taking her hands off of his shoulders. “Sorry ma’am but we have to get home, our babysitter has to get home.” He said with malice in his voice.

Before she could complain Javier took Y/n and they left the gym. Heading outside and to his car, Y/n sighed and leaned against the man's car. Finally relaxing after getting away from the teacher, he loosened his tie before giving Javier a smile.

“Thank you Javier, if we kept going I was scared I would get drunk from her breath.” He joked and the man laughed, slowing cornering Y/n. Putting his hands on either side of the professor, pinning him to the car. “Woah, umm, is it just me or are you heating up?” Y/n asked as he chuckled nervously.

Javier didn’t say anything as he looked Y/n in the eyes. Waiting for any form of confirmation, which he found when the other man put his hands on his face. He leaned into his hands before leaning in, kissing the man softly. “Huh, tastes like punch and beer.” He mumbled, going in for another kiss, this time going for Y/n’s neck.

“Fuck, Javier I think we should do this someplace else. I don’t want to get called into the deans office for public indecency.” Y/n said, worried about losing his job. Javier nodded and the two got into his car, thankfully for Y/n he didn’t bring his car as he walked to the campus.

•••

Javier began his merciless attack on Y/n’s neck as soon as the door to his apartment closed. The professor moaned and whined, trying to take off his suit. Yet when he gave up Javier helped him, which stopped the assault on Y/n’s neck for a moment.

When it was off Javier ripped off the rest of Y/n’s clothes, wanting to see the man he dreamed of naked. They moved to his couch and Javier straddled Y/n’s lap, feeling his cock go hard against his own. Javier took off his own clothes faster then he took off Y/n’s.

“Jesus, you’re so handsome.” Y/n said between his groans and moans, Javier smiled and leaned the man down on his couch. Back against the couch while his chest was exposed, Javier then removed both his and Y/n’s boxers revealing their cocks.

“Could you sit on my face?” Y/n asked, almost taking the man above him off guard. “I just stare at your ass, and I just wanted to eat you out. Oh my god I sound like a pervert.” He said and Javier laughed, he scooted up and slowly lowered himself onto Y/n.

Soon enough the man was eating him out, Javier was moaning at the feeling. “Esto parece divino.” He moaned, never feeling any sensation like this before. It was a welcoming feeling, he could get used to this. The feeling of Y/n’s tongue in his ass, eating him out like a meal.

But he needed more, he needed to claim the man below him. So, much to Y/n’s dismay, he moved back to his hips. “Aww, I didn’t get to finish.” Y/n complained, yet he stopped his whining when he saw what Javier had planned next. The man positioned himself above Y/n’s cock before lowering himself onto it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The man below Javier mumbled, and soon he bottomed out. Both men took a few breaths before Javier began to ride, loving the man under him unraveled with pleasure. The dorky and pervy professor who he crushed on, became his.

He saw Y/n’s hands try to hold his hips, but he moved them up above his head. “No touching.” He said sternly, the man nodded and let Javier keep going. Javier could feel how much Y/n wanted to touch him as his hands shook in his hold, it made him smirk, feeling how desperate the man was.

Soon Y/n came into Javier, his hips thrusting into him as he did. But Javier hadn’t released yet, so he took the time he needed to finish. “J-Javier.” Y/n whimpered, feeling the overstimulation as the man above him kept riding.

“You can keep going, can’t you cariño?” He asked, and Y/n nodded, not wanting to disappoint the man. So he endured the overstimulation in his cock as Javier kept riding, chasing his own high. Yet he decided to let go of Y/n’s hands, thinking he was too overwhelmed to touch his hips.

He was right as Y/n’s hands only touched Javier’s chest, feeling him up and down. Keeping his hands away from Javier’s hips, wanting to be a good man for Javier. Soon Y/n felt Javier slow his pace, thinking he was soon to finish yet the man had other plans.

He moved himself to where his cock was in front of Y/n’s face. “Open.” He said and the professor obliged, opening his mouth to let the man abuse it. Javier thrusted in and out, loving the sound of Y/n slightly choking on him. Thankfully he started to feel his climax, so he gave a few more hard thrusts before releasing in Y/n’s throat.

“Oh fuck.” He mumbled as he pulled out his cock, seeing that Y/n had taken all the cum Javier had shot. He thought he was tired, but when he saw Y/n’s fucked out expression he felt ready for another round.

•••

The next day Y/n had hickey’s all over his body, neck, and legs. His students snickered amongst each other already knowing what had conspired. Y/n sighed and opened his suitcase to see a small note from Javier, as he read it he smiled before putting it away.

[luninosity]

Always nice to come home to copies of a new academic publication with my chapter in - especially fun when it’s about Star Wars! 🙂

[wardenparker]

The Date

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Inspired by the already beloved Teacher Ben sketch from Pedro’s SNL appearance, this fic is dedicated to every single reader with a HUGE hug and a kiss straight from me to you. Just over about two weeks ago I passed the 2k follower mark and I am so incredibly humbled by everyone’s love and encouragement. Writing makes me happier than almost anything else in the world and I am blown away by the sheer number of you who stop by my little corner of the tumblrsphere to read the words that I produce along with my beloved @absurdthirst​. There is absolutely no end to our collaborations in sight and I am thrilled to keep rolling out fun stories week after week 🧡

Rating: Explicit! 18+  Word Count: 19.9k Warnings: Age gap (reader is an adult student of unspecified age), mentions of deceased spouse, awkward flirting, reader is bad with social cues, Marcus on a Motorcycle, using superpowers for foreplay, begging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex (superhero stamina).  Summary: After spending the semester becoming friends with your criminal justice professor, retired Heroic Marcus Moreno, it appears that your crush isn’t so unrequited after all. Notes: I was very sleepy doing this edit, so I’m sorry if I missed some things.

Sometimes you really do sit through classes waiting for a cartoonish sounding bell to ring and it’s just too bad. The general education classes that you have to take really aren’t your cup of tea, even though you know you need them for your degree and really should be paying attention. But you’re not going to need chemistry when you restart your career as a high school English teacher. Nor are you going to need the complex algebra and trigonometry that stumped you the first time you went to college. And you’re probably not going to need to understand the intricacies of the criminal justice system either - but this class was a little gift to yourself. 

The hottest professor you could have ever dreamt of in a three-times-a-week lecture that frequently includes anecdotes from his legendary career as the leader of the Heroics. Since the first day of this class it’s been like a real life version of the Indiana Jones scene where undergrads have love notes written on their eyelids and leave him gifts and notes hoping for a smidgen of extra attention, and you can’t really blame them. The thing is, the poor kids don’t stand a chance. He has a daughter nearly their age and couldn’t ever shake the feeling of how young they are. Or at least that’s what he told you the first time you sat together in the student union to eating lunch together after class. Marcus is sweet. He’s charming and maybe a little insecure socially, but when he stands up in front of the class he commands attention at the drop of a hat. He’s incredibly smart - genius, even - and he doesn’t make friends easily. That’s what he told you the fourth time you had lunch together in the student union after his class was over. Which is why you’ve kept your own crush a very tightly wrapped secret for the entire semester. You’re friends now, or at least very good acquaintances, and you wouldn’t jeopardize that for the world.

But next week is the final, and once that’s over you’ll have no excuse to sit and talk about your favourite books or how crazy his daughter is driving him now that she’s fifteen and learning to drive. Last week Missy had used the word girlfriend to refer to a girl in her friend group for the very first time and Marcus had nearly hyperventilated telling you about it. You’re friends. Loose ones, at least. And if you don’t screw up your courage and say something by next week, it might all go away. And you think you might regret that even more than not graduating college The first time you went, many years ago.

Marcus sighs as he flips the tie over his hand and pulls the knot through. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he does. Why he still wears a tie, he hasn’t quite worked out, but it’s a part of his routine and made him feel a bit more like the uniform he had worn for most of his life. If you called black jeans, a tac vest and double swords a uniform. Pushing the knot up to tighten it, he glances at the clock on his nightstand and curses. “Shit.” He had promised to grab you a coffee on the way into class and he doesn’t want to fuck that up. “Get moving, Moreno.”

The city buses are remarkably punctual today, getting you to campus twenty minutes before class instead of leaving you scrambling with just a few minutes to spare, and you take your time walking to the history building where his class is held. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you get to see Professor Moreno today. It’s going to be a good day. Whether it’s a brave day is still up for debate.

Marcus has a habit of frowning as he thinks. Shuffling papers on his desk as he mentally files through the itinerary for the day as he sips on the coffee he had gotten for himself. The other one on his desk was the triple shot, two pumps vanilla, one pump one chocolate, one pump raspberry latte that you had sworn was your favorite drink at the coffee shop he always stopped by. The fact that he ordered the same thing for himself to try was not going to be mentioned, but it was good.

“Morning.” Being a commuter is a boon today. There are no other students in the classroom when you open the door, and the man you only call Marcus in private is already sitting at his desk pouring over papers. The soft green tie matches the color in his plaid shirt and you smile reflexively. He’s so stunningly handsome, especially like this.

“Morning.” Immediately, Marcus looks up from his notes, standing up right after that as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Being a fucking idiot is what he’s being, but at least he resists rolling his eyes at himself. “I see you’re early. Wanting that coffee Huh?” He asks, grinning slightly as he pushes the extra cup towards you.

“The bus was on time today.” The way he always seems to get flustered when he’s interrupted is adorable and you bite your lip to hold back a grin. “You really didn’t have to get my drink for me…but I appreciate it.” Your friendship has been built over a semester of these small gestures, and to say you didn’t love them would be an absolute lie.

“Caffeine is medically necessary.” Marcus jokes, picking up his own cup and taking another sip. It really is good, and he’s surprised by that considering he normally just drinks coffee black.

“It’s true.” Stepping further into the room, you pull one of the chairs away from the long tables that serve as desks and set it beside his desk at the front of the room to sit with him for a few minutes. “So…” The grin you flash him is teasing, but you are probably only going to get a few more times like this with him so you want to make the most of them. “How’s Missy and her girlfriend?”

Marcus shakes his head and winces. “I’m not okay with her dating.” He huffs, nearly pouting at the idea. “She was born like six months ago.”

“I just think it’s incredible that she came out to you so easily.” According to Marcus, he had come home from a day of teaching about a year ago to find Missy icing cupcakes with rainbow frosting as her own way of breaching the topic. It had been an immensely emotional night for them both. “Teenagers get rebellious over practically everything. It’s fantastic that she trusts you enough to tell you who she is and to tell you about this girl.”

“She knows I’m not going to change the way I look at her.” Marcus shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “She’s my little girl, and if I’m honest, there were signs since she was little.”

“That’s my point though.” You reason, picking up your coffee and humming at the taste. “She knows you love her no matter what. If I had come out to my parents at that age? I would have been lucky not to end up in therapy.”

“Oh, yeah, no, nothing like that at all.” It’s funny how swiftly the little arrow of intrigue or hope quickly pierced his heart. The small crush he had developed on you over the course of the class - despite the impropriety if it - crashing down. “I’m sorry you didn’t have supportive parents like that.”

“It’s fine now.” The way his face changes makes you want to scramble to recover, unsure of what you could possibly have said to upset him when you meant to pay him a compliment. “Being bisexual wasn’t even on their radar back then. They had no idea the word even existed let alone that it applied to their little girl.” You shrug, afraid you’ve offended him by accident. “I might as well have told them I was a Martian.”

Bisexual. While Marcus doesn’t sag in relief of the clarification, the angsty guilt over inappropriate thoughts of someone who would not be interested in a man ease. “It worked for Clark Kent, right? Though he was Krytonian.” He says, sending you a small smile. “No weirder than ‘hey mom, I can manipulate metal’. Right?”

“Honestly I think that would have been easier for her.” When you shrug again, you bury your face behind your coffee cup and studiously command yourself not to get too dreamy over that smile of his. “I just…you’re doing a great job. That’s all. Don’t downplay the fact that your teenage daughter is comfortable and confident in telling you who she is.”

“I never want her to feel like she can’t come to me for anything. Even if it was a boy and…birth control.” Marcus isn’t dumb, he knows what teenagers do, he was one of them once. Despite his Heroic future, hormones did drive a lot of his actions when he was around her age.

That earns him another small laugh from you, and you lean back in your chair. “Well I say points to this girl. If Missy’s anything like her dad then she’s amazing. And that means this girl is lucky as hell.”

He shuffles slightly, trying not to take the compliment for more than what it is. Reassurance. He lifts his coffee cup to his lips again to hide the grin he can’t quite suppress. “Thanks.” He murmurs. “Although it’s been a long time for me.”

“Oh?” It’s not as though you had dug through any of the gossip about him. That would have been disrespectful. But he was a well known celebrity when his wife passed away a few years ago and he had only stopped wearing his ring recently, by the band of untanned skin on his left finger. You had never pried for information, but you’re definitely curious.

He gives a small shrug of his shoulders. The pain of losing his late wife is still there, it always will be, but it’s not as devastating as it had been in the beginning. He would always love her, but he’s still living and she’s gone. “Not since Emily.” He confirms quietly. “Avoided the entire ‘widower pity sex’ that was surprisingly being pushed on me a lot more than I ever imagined.”

“I’m sorry things were pushed on you.” It’s not necessarily for you to apologize, but you can certainly express sympathy. “Being ready to put yourselves out there isn’t something you can rush. It takes time to heal.” Which is part of why you’ve kept your feelings deeply, deeply under wraps.

“A lot of it was because I needed time to heal, I didn’t want to change Missy’s life more than it already had been, and we were navigating our grief together.” Marcus had talked about a lot of this with his therapist, but it’s nice to have someone like you he can also talk to. “Plus, I was leaving the Heroics and starting to teach.”

“Your whole life changed.” You nod slightly, head bobbing with the motion. “When it changes again should be up to you and no one else.”

“Might be time.” Marcus admits, trying not to show how much that terrifies him. “Spend more time at home alone than I do with Missy. It’s…highlighted how reclusive I’ve become.”

"Might be?" You honestly would be embarrassed if he could hear how hard that makes your heart beat. It's not like he's talking about you, but you can't help the way it makes you feel.

“I’ve….thought about dating again.” He looks around the classroom for a moment before he finally looks at you again. “Think it’s a dumb idea?” He asks softly, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His hands are starting to dampen and he quickly slides them against his darker pants.

"Why would that be dumb?" It's baffling that he would even ask that, since he's easily the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life and an absolute angel of a human. "You deserve to be happy. Whatever that means for you. If dating against would make you happy, then..." Then you will dutifully sit and listen to him gush about whoever the luckiest woman in the world is, if he wants to stay friends. "Then whoever you choose will be incredibly lucky."

That buoys his confidence and he nods before he looks back down at his papers. “So-“

“Hey Professor Moreno!” His head snaps up to see one of the other students from your class practically bounce through the door, filled with nervous, flirty energy. He’s well aware that the girl had a crush on him and while he was flattered, she was vastly too young for him.

“Monica.” He greets her, making her beam as she slides over towards his desk. His eyes meet yours and he swears that he sees disappointment at being interrupted swimming in your orbs.

Right before the door opened you could have sworn he was going to say something to you - maybe even something sweet or flirtatious if your wildest dreams ever came true. But Monica is...determined...and she is right about to stare you down. "I should let you focus," you murmur, standing up with your coffee in one hand and your other on the back of your chair.

“You’re okay.” Marcus insists, actually more comfortable with you here rather than talking to Monica by herself. It was bad enough when she showed up for office hours. “What do you need?” He asks her, shifting into a more professional demeanor than he had with you.

"I was hoping to speak to you privately." Monica casts you a derisive glance and shifts her weight between her feet. "That's why I came early."

“Is it…about the coursework?” Marcus asks carefully. He doesn’t like the social aspect that some of the younger students try to draw him into.

"It is regarding senior week." Smoothing one hand down her front, Monica squares her shoulders and fairly glares at you. "I didn't think it would be appropriate to rub it in my classmate's face that she isn't graduating yet."

“It's fine." Even though you have no idea what you did to make Monica dislike you, you're not about to cause a fuss on the second-to-last day you might get to see Marcus. There's no room in your schedule next year to take one of his other classes and taking more criminal justice classes doesn't make any sense with your major anyway. You step back, taking your chair with you, to go put your books down at the table a few feet away.

“What can I help you with?” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest and frowns slightly. He doesn’t understand the animosity that seemingly rolls off of the younger girl towards you. It doesn’t make sense.

"As you know." Monica perks up immediately, feeling victorious at your retreat and Professor Moreno's attention being squarely on her. "Senior week always includes guests of honour from the staff and faculty." What she hopes he doesn't know is that the staff and faculty guests have already been chosen for the dinner dance. Otherwise her cover will be blown. "It would be very exciting if you would agree to come to the senior week dinner dance as a special guest." As her special guest, specifically, but Monica doesn't word it like that.

“Oh.” Marcus shuffles slightly and rocks on his heels as he looks around the classroom as he thinks about how to let this girl down. “While I am flattered…I am not able to attend.” He explains. “I am due to take my daughter to her grandparents across the state that night.”

"And it would be impossible to bring her earlier?" With a lack of understanding and empathy so obviously on display, Monica all but pouts. "It will be such a special night."

“I’m sure it will be.” Marcus frowns and his tone turns slightly frosty. “But my daughter will be getting out of school and wanting to see her mother’s parents.”

The young woman huffs, immaturity fully on display, and puts her hand on her hip like she's about to transform into a version of herself twenty years in the future that would be demanding to see his manager. "Whatever," she scoffs. "You have no idea what you'll be missing."

Marcus rocks his jaw, instantly transforming into the leader of the Heroics when he had dealt with the most stubborn of the other superhero’s. “Miss Anderson, I suggest you take your seat unless you wish to be dropped from the class.” He manages tightly. “Which will affect your own graduation date.”

The hmmphf from her is as pronounced as the pouty frown on her face, but Monica spins around, throwing you a dirty look in the process as she storms across the classroom to sit down and probably not pay much attention during this last study session Marcus will be leading.

Sighing softly, Marcus look down at the papers in front of him. Why couldn't someone just accept that a man who was old enough to be her father wasn't interested gracefully? He doesn't understand it.

His mood seems sour for the entire study session, and it’s not that you can’t understand why. Monica and the undergrad girls didn’t know how to take no for an answer, apparently. You do - at least you expect it - so you’ve just never asked the question. By the end of class you have to assume that his nerves are frayed and he won’t have the presence of mind for your usual lunch together, so you just start to pack up.

Once the class is over, Marcus looks over at you. Frowning slightly when he sees you move towards the door, he calls your name quickly. Unsure if you've changed your mind about walking to lunch together or if something has come up.

The last group of your classmates blows past you when you freeze three feet from the doorway and turn back. “I didn’t know if you’d be up to lunch,” you admit, feeling a little sheepish about it. “You seem preoccupied. I didn’t want to presume.”

"No, uh, I'm sorry." He deflates slightly and sighs. "I just- Monica." He gestures toward the door as if that explains it. "I don't understand. I'm too old for her."

“It’s a fantasy.” The way you shrug your shoulders is completely tense, like you have no intention whatsoever in admitting that you’ve had those same fantasies about him yourself. “They don’t see the reality of it. Only the glossy story they’ll tell their friends.”

"I guess." He won't deny that he had crushes on teachers and professors when he was younger, but he had never been so bold to think they would want him. "I just- I guess I think too much like a dad." He huffs at himself. "She's not that much older than Missy."

"I think that's thinking like a dad just the right amount." The door shuts behind the rest of your class and you shove your hands in your pockets with your bag high on your shoulder. "What did she...ask you? If you don't mind me asking?"

“She wanted me to go to the dinner dance as a special guest.” He picks up his own bag and tosses it on his shoulders. “Didn’t take the very polite ‘no’ very well.” He snorts. “She actually asked me if I could drop my daughter off at her grandparents another day.”

"That's...awkward." When you reach for the door handle this time it's to open it for him rather than to beat a hasty exit, and you follow him out the door. "And honestly, a little disrespectful."

“She doesn’t have to know that her grandparents live two hours away.” Marcus grins slyly, and shrugs.

"She shouldn't have been rude." The walk down the corridor is fairly quiet since the next class period has already started in this building, and you walk side-by-side with your professor one more time. "It was nice of you to try to let her down easy, even if she didn't let you, ultimately."

“I get having feelings you shouldn’t.” Marcus risks looking over at you for a second before he looks back down at the path in front of you. “For people you shouldn’t.”

“How so?” If you had seen him glance at you then you might have had some idea of what he meant, but you were busy trying not to trip over the obvious coffee spill left by a previous student.

Marcus sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ignores the looks from the students as the two of you walk through the campus. He doesn’t see a lot of the adoration that seems to be thrown his way. “She’s…it’s not like a younger student or anything. Not like Monica.”

“Oh? Oh! You’ve been—?” You can’t help the way your whole face falls, registering that apparently he’s been seeing another student and you didn’t ever know. As fast as your silly schoolgirl crush has grown over the course of the semester, you can feel it being stamped out with every new step you take down the corridor together. “Well, she’s…she’s very lucky…” You choke out, shoving your hands into your pockets with determination.

“No! No, I haven’t - I can’t, it’s not—” Marcus groans. “She’s my student, I haven’t thought it was…appropriate to ask her out.” He rolls his eyes at himself, wondering where were those fucking balls of steel he had to have when saving the world when he needs them now. “I- it would have been wrong, right? But I have been thinking about it.”

“I mean…I guess it depends?” Even though it crushes your heart more than a little to debate this with him, he’s your friend and…and ultimately you want him to be happy. And some people might argue that that is a blaring siren for having feelings, but that’s a moot point now. “It’s the end of the semester, so…theoretically I guess it would depend on the relationship you have with this girl outside of…ya know…the classroom.”

"I think we're pretty good." Marcus inhales softly. "We've spent some time together, a lot less than I'd like, but I guess I don't know what she thinks about it."

“Then you should probably ask her.” And tonight, when you go home to pour yourself a glass of wine for studying, you’ll use your really big wine glass to mourn the passing of the chance you never got. “You can’t know unless you ask.”

"Yeah....." Fundamentally, Marcus knows that. And it's not like you are giving much away with your answers so he can't even use that to judge how you would react. "I need to, but I'm also worried about it changing things for the worse."

“I can’t see anyone turning you down,” you admit, feeling your voice drop a little and your shoulders slump. If you were brave enough to take your own advice, then you wouldn’t be walking at his side listening to him theorize about asking out another woman.

“So…..how do you feel about driving up the coast?” Marcus ventures softly. “Thought we could take a little ride, find a nice roadside spot to eat? Look out over the water.”

It takes you a long moment to register what he’s saying, but when you finally do, your head ticks up and you freeze in your steps, doing your best not to stare while you try to remember how to speak. “Wait, I— me?” You ask, so bewildered that your voice jumps and you’re pointing at your own chest. “You meant me?”

“Shit, I knew this was going to happen. You don’t- it’s okay.” Marcus quickly reassures you. “You don’t have to, I - it won’t affect your grade, they are done anyway. I- just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No! N-no, I meant— I didn’t realize you liked me, too.” And if you could bury your head in the ground in embarrassment right now, you absolutely would. “Please, you don’t…don’t take it back? I’d love to go.”

“Are you sure?” Both you and Marcus have stopped walking and he turns towards you. “I don’t- you don’t have to, I just- I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and….” He blows out a huff of laughter. “I’d like to get to know you more now that you aren’t my student.”

“I’m really sure.” If it were possible to show him exactly how much without seeming overeager - or worse, desperate - you absolutely would, but right now you’re just smiling so hard you feel like your face might split. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you too, and I…” Flustered, you end up laughing at the way the two of you stammer out insistences and reassurances, and you just nod. “Why don’t we say next weekend? Final will be over and I’ll officially no longer be your student in any way.”

“Missy will be with her grandparents.” Marcus nods. “And I’ll officially not be your professor. So there’s nothing improper about it anymore.”

“I don’t even think you’re capable of being improper.” The little tease makes you grin, knowing that you might have said it before but now it’s flirting.

Marcus flushes slightly, aware that some of his thoughts were far from proper. “You’d be surprised.” He huffs, both of you starting to walk towards the food court again.

“Oh yeah?” It seems so improbable, and you laugh softly while you walk. “Are you telling me the world’s most wholesome retired superhero has a rebellious side?”

Marcus snorts, “well, Emily was about three months pregnant with Missy when we got married…” He offers in way of proof. “And despite my mama’s objections, I still have my motorcycle.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one who has been Clark Kent-ing this whole time?” You raise an intrigued eyebrow at him as you walk, but keep your hand stuffed firmly in your pocket so you don’t do something stupid like reach for him out of excitement. “The real Marcus is wandering hands and engine grease?” Oh god…both versions sound amazing…

Marcus smirks at the comparison and there might be a slight air of cockiness to his shrug. “There’s a difference between the public image and the private man, let’s just say that.” He offers. This is why he’s enjoyed your company, he loves being able to talk to you. No expeditions, no judgment. It’s vastly different from a lot of his other interactions with people and he loves it.

"Color me intrigued." And honestly a little turned on, but you'll keep that to yourself for now. The dining hall is just up ahead and it's just beginning to be busy, as people like you and Marcus who are filing out of your midmorning classes are lured in by the smell of lunch.

“Is that a good intrigued or have 9-1-1 on speed dial intrigued?” Marcus jokes, lunging forward to open the door for you when you both get close enough.

You knew he would get the door. He always does. In fact, he glared at you when you had tried to do it yourself a few weeks ago - as though you should certainly know better by now. “I don’t know,” you admit with a shrug. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. It could be fun. Or it might be terrifying.”

“Wellllllll, that was kinda the plan, if you want.” Marcus admits, a slightly boyish grin on his face. “Have you wrap your arms around me and hang on while we ride.”

“No dress. Got it.” Wrap your arms around him and hang on? Apparently when this man flirts he has the ability to make you weak in the knees and nearly pout with just a few sentences. “I have a very definite feeling that I’m going to like motorcycles.”

Marcus can’t help the slightly dirty way his grin turns. “Better than a washing machine.” He hums.

“Marcus!” The scandalized laugh that makes it out of you is practically giddy to see this side of him and you stick close to his side once you’re in the bustling main dining hall. “Maybe I do want to wear a dress, in that case.”

Marcus chuckles and looks over the options for the day and then at you. “What are you feeling today?” He asks. “They have that grilled chicken salad you like.”

“And they have gyro today,” you point up at the menu and offer him a shy smile, Realizing for the first time how much he’s really absorbed about you personally over the course of the semester. “Just try telling me that’s not your favorite. I dare you to lie.”

“Only because you start singing that song every time I sit down with it.” Marcus huffs, flushing slightly.

“‘Holding Out for a Gyro’ is the best parody song ever written.” You shrug your shoulders proudly. “Sorry, Weird Al. I win this one.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “And it’s funny every time I hear it.” He enjoyed the playful banter between the two of you. “If it’s aided by a delicious meal? That makes it even better.”

“Then I think we’ve got to do it.” He’s so relaxed now, and you wonder how many times when you were in line like this or sitting with coffee, did he feel the tension of attraction the same way you did? It’s a relief to know it wasn’t one sided after all. “For old time’s sake.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus shoots you a smirk, and nods towards your line. “Meet you at the table we normally have?” It’s not an assigned table, but the corner table is rarely occupied when you have lunch together.

"Absolutely." To have anything be both of yours sends a shiver of excitement through you and you try not to giggle or anything similarly giddy. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Making his way over to the correct station, he can’t help but seek you out. Telling himself that it’s just because he wants to make sure you aren’t waiting for him for too long, he can’t help but grin when your eyes find him and you smile.

You tell yourself that the butterflies are because it’s new, and because new is exciting. It’s not because you’re expecting anything, or even know if the date will go well. But your instincts are good and your intuition is worth listening to - and that gut you’ve spent years cultivating is telling you that this could be the start of something amazing if you let it.

You get your salad before Marcus gets his own food, making him watch you as he walks towards the table where you are already settling in. “Do you need napkins?” You always forget them and it’s a little habit that he has developed to grab more.

“You know I do.” He’s attentive. It’s something you’ve grown to appreciate about him during the time you’ve been getting to know him. “Just like I know you didn’t grab a fork and you’re going to regret it when that wrap gets messy halfway through.” The Extra fork on your tray is ready and waiting just like the extra napkins on his.

“Look at us playing to each other’s weaknesses.” Marcus chuckles, knowing that he will be using the fork. He always does and yet every time he doesn’t get one when the utensils are next to the napkins.

“I like to think of it as paying attention.” You counter, moving things around your tray to get it set up just the way you like. “We’ve both found each other worth paying attention to.”

“At least you also paid attention in class.” Marcus snorts, opening up the cup of extra tzatziki sauce he always asks for, along with extra pickled red onions. “You have one of the top five grades. Seriously, you should pursue criminal justice.”

“It would be a hell of a gear change from teaching high school English.” The cup of vinaigrette that comes with your chicken salad is unceremoniously dumped into the container and you pop the lid back on to shake it up and get everything evenly coated. “I honestly took the class because I love mysteries so much. I thought taking something about fighting crime would be fun.” You hadn’t even known who was teaching it when you signed up. Finding out you had Marcus for a professor was a delightful surprise.

“I think it’s a good idea to have everyone take at least one class.” Marcus knows you know this. It was basically his opening speech to his class. “Knowing about our system is necessary.”

"I completely agree." The discussions about how neither of you understand the resistance to understanding how the country you live in works have happened a few times over the last few months, usually in regard to a classmate saying something ignorant or someone illustrating a cultural difference between the US and the culture they grew up in. Discussions could either feel like you were banging your head against a wall or you could learn something truly interesting.

“So..” Marcus looks over at you as he scrapes the rest of the sauce out onto his gyro. “Are you ready for the summer? Or are you taking more courses?” He knows you are working towards your degree while working, so he’s not sure how it looks for you.

"I have a second job lined up for the summer. I'll keep busy and pocket as much money as I can." Working through the busy summer tourist season has always treated you well, and the company you work with has no problem accommodating your class schedule or your other job. "I'm on track to graduate next year as long as I don't run into a problem with any of my senior classes, so I'll spend my summer working and trying to get ahead in my reading if any of my professors are willing to hand out their reading lists early." It was the first email you always sent to a professor - asking if they wouldn't mind sending a reading list to you ahead of the start of the semester - and usually it helped establish you as a serious student early on. Being a slow reader meant you had to be prepared.

“Let me know what classes you are taking and I’ll be able to tell you what most of them have set out.” Marcus offers. “It’s good to have a jump on things.” It’s not just an offer because you’re going out on a date with him. He would offer it to any serious student. Just many of them hadn’t wanted to go beyond the unsubtle flirting.

“I’m a slow reader.” You shrug, digging your fork into your salad. “Taking a lot of classes that require extensive reading. Especially next year.” The first bite of your lunch is bright and crisp and refreshing as always, and you just let yourself enjoy it for a minute while you chew. “What about you?” You ask, tilting your head at him. “Any big summer plans with Missy?”

“Missy’s going to be with her grandparents most of the summer.” Marcus admits, hating that he will miss her, but she needs to spend time with Emily’s family. He was always welcomed, but he wanted her to bond with them without having dad hanging around.

“Oh?” He looks like he’s not thrilled with the idea, but you know how much he loves his daughter and he’s probably just aware of how much he’ll miss her - something you can’t blame him for in the least. That does, however, leave your mind open to think about very specific things…like spending the night together without having to worry about preteen eyes or ears.

“Yeah. So I’m going to be doing a lot of reading by the pool.” Marcus predicts. “Retirement from the Heroics left a lot of downtime that I hadn’t expected when I went into teaching.”

“It sounds relaxing, at least.” Would you kill to see Marcus lounging lazily, sunbathing shirtless with a book and a beer on any random summer day? It sounds like a dream. “If you want a change of scenery, sometimes the country club I work at gives us guest passes on slow days. You could read by a different pool if you wanted to?”

“So you’re inviting me to sit by your pool…” Marcus grins. “How good are your piña coladas?”

“Marcus I’m a bartender.” You pretend to be scandalized but just end up giggling when you take a sip of your drink. “My piña coladas are flawless, thank you very much.”

“I guess I will have to try them for myself.” Marcus teases, sending you a small wink. “Have you serving me frozen beverages all summer?”

"In my extremely sexy polo shirt and khaki shorts." The snort he gets from you is pure amusement, but the way you're smiling is so very, very pleased. Having him actively flirt with you is turning into a happy little puddle. "You'd be the only one actually allowed to leer."

“I will keep all my leering respectful.” He promises playfully. “Although you might be embarrassed to have such an old man flirt with you in public, even if you are used to it all the time.”

"If you're hanging out at the club this summer, then I'm assuming it will be because we've decided to keep seeing each other." And that thought alone makes you nearly giddy. "In which case I will be proud to have you respectfully leering while I work."

Marcus hums and picks up his gyro. “Then we will have to see if we are as good outside of ‘just friendly’ as I think we will be.” He tells you before he takes his first bite and groans at the flavors.

"I guess we will." You grin at him, forking up another bite of your lunch, and barely keep yourself from outright giggling. Next week can't come fast enough.

******

The nerves that come with getting ready for a ‘first date’ for the first time in nearly twenty years catches Marcus off guard. Panicking in the shower as he wonders if he’s made the date too casual, too presumptuous. What if you hate motorcycles? Should he just have made reservations somewhere? He runs through every single scenario in his mind until he’s nearly jittery.

He has no way of knowing that you've been sitting giddily in your apartment - busying yourself here and there with cleaning or changing your outfit four times or staring at the first page of a new book for a half hour and only reading the same sentence over and over again because you're too excited to focus. As seven o'clock ticks closer and closer, there is just less and less chance of you concentrating on anything except thinking of Marcus.

The ride over to your apartment complex is easy and surprisingly quick. You don’t live too far away from him and the implications that spring from that have him reminding himself that it’s just the first date. Swinging his leg over the bike as he shuts it off, he smirks to himself as he looks back at the helmet he had strapped to the back for you to wear. It’s a gorgeous evening for a ride and the setting sun in a few hours would look amazing as you cruise along the coast.

You practically jump when the buzzer goes off, beating a hasty route from the bathroom mirror - where you were quadruple checking the claim that your new lipstick is transfer-proof - to the hall. “Hello?” Trying to sound carefree instead of out of breath, your voice pitches up one too many octaves when you press the button to answer.

“Hey.” Marcus grins at how breathless you sound, wondering if you are just as nervous as he is. “Can I come up, or do you want me to wait down here?” If you decide to just come down, that’s completely your choice and he won’t judge you either way.

"Come on up!" Having decided thirty seconds ago to change your shoes from flats to boots for the sake of the bike you hope he brought, you push the buzzer to let him in and scramble to your bedroom to grab your knee-high boots.

Marcus grins, opening the door and deciding to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator since you are only on the second floor. Eager to see you and get the date started. The only reason there aren’t flowers in his hand, is because they wouldn’t survive the ride over but maybe the one flower he does have silk charm you.

The knock on your door comes barely two minutes later and you've barely zipped up your boots when you answer it. Marcus has always dressed up for his time on campus, but today he has a leather jacket thrown over his untucked green button-up and boots peeking out from under his jeans where he would normally wear Oxford. The difference is slight, but it's mouthwatering. "Hey." One little word, but it's all you can manage when you're grinning from ear to ear like a lunatic. "Come on in."

“Hey.” He wipes his hands on his pants, slightly nervous as he steps inside. It’s been a long time since he’s been on a date and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. “You look great. Like really good.” He compliments.

“So do you.” He’s so obviously nervous that it makes you smile, relaxing in the moment when you remember how long it’s been for him. Having you be equally nervous isn’t going to help him at all. “Let me just grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Marcus clears his throat and reaches into the pocket of his riding jacket. “So flowers, fresh beautiful ones, are standard for a first date - but they wouldn’t have survived the ride over.” He offers as he pulls out the lone metal rose he had brought you. “So I hope you aren’t disappointed by this.”

“Marcus…” Twisted and pulled from glossy metal into the form of a single blooming rose, the bud is a gorgeous example of artistry all on its own. It speaks to care because it’s so delicate, and an eye for beauty, and you gasp softly when you accept it from his hands. “It’s stunning.”

“I made it.” Why did he just volunteer that? He huffs slightly at his fucking inability to act like a normal man for just one second. “It’s- yeah, I just wanted you to have a flower.”

“Just because you don’t wear a uniform anymore, that doesn’t change who you are as a person.” It’s part of why you like him so much, if you’re honest with yourself. His being a hero isn’t all about his powers. He is fundamentally a good man.

“That’s very true.” He likes the fact that you have a very practical mindset about it. Some wouldn’t and it just means you are even more special than he had anticipated.

Out on the sidewalk in front of your building, his bike is easy to spot. The lone motorcycle in a parking lot of practical and family vehicles, it practically screams to be noticed and you love it. “I was hoping you were serious about bringing it.”

“Good.” Marcus practically beams at giddiness in your eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve had time to go for a ride and figured it would be the perfect evening for it.”

“Absolutely perfect.” You couldn’t agree more, happily taking the second helmet from the back of his bike when he hands it to you.

Once you are as safe as you can be, Marcus straddles the bike and pulls it off the standing peg. “Get on behind me and hang on as tight as you want.”

“Dangerous thing to say to the woman who’s had a crush on you for the better part of five months.” The gentle laugh as you carefully climb into the back of the bike and wrap your arms around him is mostly teasing - but only mostly. Because you’d been lusting after him on TV for a lot longer than that.

Marcus chuckles as he starts the bike with a loud roar. Maybe showing off just slightly. He has backed into the parking spot so he can just take off with the twist of his wrist and he grins at the bubble of giggling that bursts out behind him as your arms tighten instinctively.

It’s a quick zip from your building to the Pacific Coast Highway. No more than a few minutes in the residential area puts you out enjoying the Southern California’ coastal salt air instead of smog. Each turn he takes hits right in the pit of your stomach and brings another bubble of giggles from your throat and you just hope he can hear them over the roar of the engine. Even if the night was just this - just riding around with him as your anchor - you would completely love it.

Marcus doesn’t try to speed and break your neck as he coasts along the Highway. This is about the leisure of the trip. Enjoying the scenery and he can feel you gasp when he takes one hand off the handlebars to point out some whales breaching just off the rocky coast.

It’s silly. It’s silly to worry. You’re with one of the world’s only literal superheroes. Nothing is going to happen to you. But you still clutch him a little bit tighter whenever he lets go of the handlebars to point. The smile on his face is free and easy and he seems to love the gasps from your lips, so you don’t bother feeling embarrassed. If you were nervous it’s already melted away. Being with Marcus is easy.

He doesn’t know how long you cruise, maybe an hour, hour and a half before he throttle down slightly. “When you see somewhere you want to eat, let me know!” He turns his head back towards you and shouts it so you can hear.

A little further up the road, a brightly painted seafood shack with a cartoon lobster wearing a captain’s hat on its sign. “Right there!” You call through the engine and wind noise, barely letting go of him long enough to point. It looks unpretentious and like it hasn’t changed owners or gimmicks in decades. Perfect for your breezy, relaxed evening ride.

“Okay.” Marcus immediately slows down more, letting go of the handle bars again to give the signal for his turn as he guides the two of you into the parking lot.

You could swear you’re still vibrating when he cuts the engine and your feet are on solid ground again, but it’s not rattling or uncomfortable. It’s like a very tangible adrenaline buzz running all through your body and - yes, definitely shooting right between your legs.

“You okay?” Marcus asks as soon as he takes off his own helmet and sets it down on the back of the bike. It might not be cool to some to wear protection, but he’s got his daughter to think of. And despite his best efforts at trying to stay inconspicuous, sometimes he was photographed in public, not the example he wants to set for the younger generations.

“That was amazing.” The shit-eating grin on your face promises that you’re not lying, and you let him gently unbuckle your helmet to lift it away and set it with his as you stand up.

“Well, why don’t we have whatever tickles our fancy and then we can find a shaved ice place or ice cream stand?” He offers.

"Sounds pretty perfect." A dressed down night like this - something that's more about who you're with than what you're doing - is exactly the right kind of first date to you.

“Good.” His hand finds your back, up under your jacket by sheer coincidence as he moves you towards the small shack. “Maybe we can eat outside?” He offers.

"Why eat by the ocean if you can't see the water at the same time?" His hand is warm through the thin material of your dress and you unconsciously shift closer to him as you walk inside.

“My thoughts exactly.” Marcus grins. “Order a beer if you want, I’m going to have a soda since I’m the one driving.”

The place is simple - just a window with a huge menu board over it where you place your order and a counter a few yards down where you can pick up your filled order when your name is called. Tables inside are simple plastic with matching chairs, and outside there are picnic tables to extend the seating by another dozen or so tables. A plate of fish tacos and local beer sounds like the most Californian meal you've eaten in a long time, and perfect for tonight.

��God, everything smells so good.” He groans, practically drooling at the menu board. “Do you want to get a bunch of things and split them?” He asks.

"You're on." By the time you get up to the window to order you've picked out three or four things that sound amazing - not the least of which is the fish tacos which are marked on the menu as award winning. Your beer will be on the tray when it comes up but Marcus is given a cup for his soda and is pointed toward the drink fountain while you wait.

"What kind goes best with what we ordered?" He hums playfully as he surveys the soda options. There are a few but he's just playing around, seeing if you will point out your favorite. His theory is that you would take a sip of it if he picks that one. So you just aren't drinking beer.

“Hmmmm.” Pretending to think excruciatingly hard about it, you shrug your shoulders playfully and tap the Sprite logo currently staring you in the face. “It’s a palate cleanser,” you reason when he raises one eyebrow to ask for an explanation. “Bright, citrusy, sweet but not as heavy as Mountain Dew or root beer.” It’s also your favorite, but he doesn’t need to know that. Having a favorite soda is silly at your age.

"Good choice." Marcus actually agrees with your assessment and immediately starts adding ice so he can fill the cup with Sprite. "Kind of like having white wine with chicken or beer with chicken wings." He grins and winks at you as he fills the cup.

“The extremely low rent version of that,” you laugh though, leaning against the counter as he fills his cup. “But I like the low rent versions of things. Just because something is fussier doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better.”

"I always believe there are times to be fancy and then there are times to just be...happy." Marcus shrugs. "I figured that the first date should be easy and light, not stuffy in a fancy restaurant where we are bored to death and unable to find things to eat that we can pronounce."

"Now that is a theory I can get behind entirely." You snag him a paper straw from the container next to the drink dispenser and send him one of those winks that he seems so fond of, just to be playful. "Although I do speak passable Italian."

"You do?" That is new information and he's delighted to learn that. It's charming to know that about you and he grins as he nods. "I can see it. Have you traveled to Italy?"

"I never got to." It's a regret, to be sure, but you made up your mind a while ago to not let those things drag you down anymore. It's been too long. "The first time I was in college, I was an art history major. Most of my focus was on the Italian Renaissance, so Italian was kind of necessary."

“I see.” Marcus nods. “Maybe you will be able to visit once you have your degree.” He offers, knowing that traveling to foreign countries is important.

"Once I have my degree this time, I hope I'll be able to find a good job." The best you can really do is shrug, pretending that you hadn't had to set aside several lifelong dreams when you dropped out of college the first time around. As short a life as it had been then, you've always been a dreamer. "It's okay." Not wanting to bring the mood down, you offer him a sunny smile and turn to wait for his name to be called at the counter. "I'll get there someday."

"I don't doubt it for a second." Marcus promises you with a smile. You are tenacious and he knows you will make it happen for yourself. "How many more of your classes are you shy of graduating?" He asks, as he stands beside you.

"Seven." It sounds like so much and so little all at once, and you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket to resist the insane urge you have to hold his hand. "One more full year, basically. But I have a spot open in case I don't pass something this semester and need to retake."

"That's a smart thing to do." He is impressed with the way that you are thinking ahead. "Sometimes you don't pass the first time around, I know I couldn't pass my freshman statistics course to save my life."

“I took Intro to Botany for my science general ed thinking it would at least be interesting.” But from your cringe, he can tell that that isn’t true. “It turned out to be both insanely difficult and insanely boring. Which is a shame.”

"Yeah...." Marcus shakes his head. "I'm not the biggest fan of that class." He doesn't like professor Issacs, but you don't need to know that. He's never particularly cared for him, finding him pompous and egotistical without contributing much to the faculty. He seemed to make the course load harder for his students than it needed to be.

“Well, if Isaacs decides to flunk me, it’ll be Earth Sciences in fall, instead.” Which you probably should have done in the first place, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that. “How’s your grading looking? Staring down the barrel of a hundred and fifty tests and papers?”

"I actually have it down to a science." Marcus tells you with a small grin. "I should be done with grading by Sunday at the latest."

“Look at you, Professor Smarty Pants. You’ll have to teach me your tricks if I ever actually become a teacher.” You tease, grinning when the girl behind the counter calls his name, looks up, and recognizes him.

“Moreno?” She asks, stunned and wide eyes. “Marcus Moreno?” Her voice manages to go up several octaves. “I- oh my god!”

Taking his drink and grabbing some napkins and utensils is the most helpful thing you can do, and you watch with a smile as Marcus shakes the girl’s hand and chats with her for a second before grabbing the tray with your dinner. He’s in his element with people - any kind of people - and you always get a warm sort of pride whenever you’re with him when he’s recognized. Despite having no claim on him but friendship, you’re still proud of him.

Marcus listens to the girl gush, he had apparently saved her about five years ago, right before he had quit going out into the field with the other Heroics. Making him recall the incident and he smiles as she thanks him for what he had done, shaking his head and claiming that it had been nothing. Grateful that you aren’t annoyed that he’s having time taken away from the date. When he finally comes back over to you, he gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You push the door open to go outside and let him go through first with the tray. “You’ve saved people's lives. You saved that girl’s life. That’s no small thing. Not at all.”

“It’s bad, but I don’t remember her.” Marcus feels guilty, but it’s the truth. There were a lot of people that day.

“And she never has to know that.” There is one picnic table closer to the water than the others, and you both move toward it instinctively. “I can’t imagine you remembering every person you ever saved. But I’m sure they'll all remember you for the rest of their lives.”

“It’s daunting.” Marcus admits. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I don’t crave attention.” He snorts. “I’m not Miracle Guy.”

“No one is.” You smirk, knowing Miracle Guy’s reputation for tooting his own horn.

Marcus chuckles at your expression and shrugs slightly. “He’s got quite the fan club.”

“And he loves it. But fame isn’t everyone’s first choice.” At the table you set everything out between you and sit side by side so you can both look out over the water while you eat. “For what it’s worth? I like you just as you are.”

“Well thank you.” Marcus moves your beer over to you and grins. “While we eat, maybe you can tell me why you chose teaching?”

“Have we never talked about that?” He shakes his head when you ask and you pop the cap off your beer. “Teaching was always on my radar.” You tell him, figuring that’s the best place to start. “I thought about teaching art, originally. But when I was taking care of my mom…the thing that she had the most energy for was books. We would read together constantly, until it was just me reading to hear and we would talk about every chapter and every book together. It was our own private book club, and I fell in love with literature all over again.”

"I like that." Marcus hates the fact that it seems like your mother is gone, he can't even imagine losing his mother right now although his father died when he was twelve, but he reaches out and takes your hand. "I'm sure that those memories are the ones that she cherished the most." He murmurs softly.

It’s not exactly the way you wanted it to happen - out of sympathy instead of excitement - but you look down at his large hands covering yours and smile. “She was my best friend,” you tell him, aware that your voice has dropped a little. “And I just hope I’m making her proud.”

“Doing exactly what you want to do and living your life how you want to live it is exactly what would make a parent proud.” He knows not all parents subscribe to that, but he feels like your mother would, considering how you’ve turned out.

“Thanks.” You shake your head, almost trying to release the cobwebs from the corners of your mind. “Sorry…I…I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“You’re not bringing the mood down.” Marcus assures you, almost instantly. “Talking about our lives and what has happened is learning about each other. It’s the human condition that none of us are without personal tragedy.”

“I suppose.” Not wanting to let go just yet, you take a sip of your drink with your other hand. “Although most men would not feel that way on a first date. So thank you for being your compassionate self.”

“I am no stranger to things like this.” Marcus reminds you softly. “Do you know how many people hit on me at my wife’s funeral? And then didn’t understand why I was angry at them?”

“Are you serious?” The worst part is that you can imagine it. People offering to comfort the grieving widower with varying degrees of subtlety and lewdness. “That’s…that’s despicable, Marcus. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done.” Marcus rubs his thumb in the back of your hand gently. “But I’ve learned that there are really good people in the world too, and you’re one of them.” He tells you with a soft smile.

“I really like you.” Though it comes out inelegantly, and you can feel your cheeks burn when you fear it, the sentiment is honest. “I mean…obviously. Since I’m here with you. But I guess I mean…I’m glad that you feel that way. Because the time that I’ve been able to spend with you is the happiest that I’ve been in a really long time.”

"That's good." He lights up, grinning broadly and can't quite hide the way his chest puffs out slightly at your praise of him and the time you have spent together. A lot of it has been innocent but it's a building block for what he wants. More.

With the air slightly clearer between you, you dig into your dinner with enthusiasm. The little roadside seafood shack is playing with no less than its A-game so everything is fresh and delicious. The sea is calm, treating you to crisp breezes and the occasional creature-sighting, and little joke after little joke piles up to have you both in a fit of giggles by the time the meal winds down. In your entire life a first date has never been this relaxed or fun, and you're starting to think that maybe you've just been dating the wrong people all along.

Marcus leans back and sighs. “Well, want to continue on and find our dessert stand?” He asks playfully, rubbing his stomach. “Or do you not have room?”

"There is always room for dessert." You tell him, with an air that you're giving some kind of sage wisdom. "Especially cold desserts on warm nights." It will be sundown soon and the mid-May sun is only just starting to lose power. "Do you know a place or are we driving until we find one?" Either way is fine with you. Either way is time spent with him.

“I’m kinda winging it.” Marcus admits with a grin. “Trying to be more spontaneous? Missy said I shouldn’t plan everything out like I do normally.”

"You told Missy?" Admittedly, you had been afraid to ask if he was going to or not, knowing that his relationship with his daughter means the world to him. You wouldn't have been surprised or offended if he had chosen to hold off on telling her about you until it became more serious. The fact that he did - that you seem to be important enough to him to have her know about you - floods you with warmth and joy.

“She’s the one that told me I needed to stop…how did she put it? “Being a wuss’  and ask you out.” He chuckles as he stands from the table and picks up the tray that you’ve both deposited all the trash from your dinner onto. He’ll throw it away and return the tray before getting back on the bike with you.

"Your daughter and my roommate." You can't help but chuckle a little, walking with him to the trash bins to chuck your beer bottle in the recycles. "Well...I'm glad one of us listened to our advice giver. I'm pretty sure I would have been too chicken when push came to shove."

“I was half convinced that I was making up the entire thing in my head.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at himself. “That maybe you just felt sorry for me and that’s why you ate lunch with me.”

"Not at all." The fact that he thought it, though, shows his humility. "Actually, at first I thought the reverse. That you were taking pity on your weird student who was older than everybody else by being friendly."

“God no.” Marcus breathes out. “You saved my sanity. Having someone who was understanding that it’s insane for all these girls to be wanting me?” He rolls his eyes. “There’s a group of them that started calling me ‘daddy’ and I just-“ he shrugs and laughs in that defeated and disbelieving kind of way. “Why?”

When you snort to keep from bursting out laughing, you can only hold up your hand to apologize. “Marcus, it’s because you’re hot. A sexy guy in a position of authority with a nurturing personality is a recipe for being a daddy.”

“But…I—” He trails off and his eyes widen slightly in realization. “Dear God.” He huffs after a long moment of silence.

“It’s a compliment,” you promise, looping your arm around him and hugging him while you desperately try to keep the laughter inside. “A slightly weird one, but a compliment nonetheless.”

“They do realize that I would never actually….date them, right?” He asks. “It would be so wrong.” Most of his class are seniors but the age gap widens every year and now there’s only three or four years between the freshman class and his daughter.

“The reasonable ones do. The less reasonable ones don’t care. That’s not the point.” Together you walk back around the tiny restaurant and out to the parking lot, but Marcus doesn’t move away from you so you keep your hand on him while you go. “They’ll get it out of their systems eventually and then you won’t have to hear it anymore. Besides, I think the ringleaders of that particular nickname are all graduating this year.” One of them was Monica, you know that for sure. But she’ll be graduated and gone in no time.

“Hopefully.” Marcus looks over at you, “although I wouldn’t mind a certain former student dropping by sometimes when she has time.” He teases.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, unable to resist screwing with him just a little. “I’ll let Monica know. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

“Do it and you’ll buy your own ice cream.” Marcus threatens playfully. He doesn’t mean it, but the idea of Monica haunting his office hours after graduation is almost enough to make his time by virtual connection only.

“That’s a very serious threat, you know.” You’re giggling when you make it to his bike, practically doubled over with it just from the mortified look on his face. “Of course I’ll drop by office hours. How else am I going to say hi?” Doing your best not to count on anything - or to get your hopes up too high - you have ended up just sort of assuming that he won’t want to go on another date after tonight. That it will be too weird for him or you won’t be as good as what he has built up in his mind before now. It’s helping to keep your expectations grounded, because your hopes are already imagining what it will be like to get to know his daughter.

“Welllllllll, I guess we could communicate through mirrors and reflections, smoke signals, or pigeon carriers.” Marcus snorts. “But I was hoping it would include the occasional phone call, or visit in person. I’ll even text.”

"I would pay money to see Missy teaching you how to text." That starts up the giggles again, but in a much more lighthearted way. "Look, Marcus..." You manage not to sigh, thank god, but your tone does trend a bit more serious. All fears aside for you, you know that he hasn't dated in an extremely long time and deserves some reassurance. "I told you that I really like you and I meant it. So if you decide you want to keep seeing me after tonight? I'm a commitment girl. So dropping by your office with snacks or to spend some time together will be a given."

“I know how to text.” Marcus grumbles, pouting at you slightly. “I just don’t. There’s no inflection. And how can I convey emotion?” He reaches out to take the helmet you had worn off the back of the bike to put it back on you. “I think this date is going really well, how about you?” He asks. “So I don’t know why I wouldn’t want to see you again.”

"If I tell you that I'm having a great night but trying not to set my expectations too high, do I get to see that cute pout again?" The fact that he sets the helmet on you and buckles it in place so he knows you're safe is about the cutest thing ever.

Just to get you to grin again, he does the pout again. Holding it for a few seconds before he shakes his head in disappointment. “And here I was thinking that you should set the expectations sky high.” He rumbles dramatically.

'My hopes are sky high," you assure him, feeling daring enough to reach out and touch his arm again even if it's only briefly. "But I know this is a big step for you, so I didn't want you to feel pressured."

“I don’t.” He promises, reaching up and chucking your chin softly before he glances down at your lips. “Not at all. Although there’s some pressure, it’s not something you have to worry about unless you want to.”

"What do you mean?" Tilting your head to one side, you don't miss the way he glances down at your lips, though the innuendo goes straight over your head.

He chuckles quietly and lets go of your chin. “I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.” He teases, turning back and grabbing his own helmet. “Let me know when you got it worked out.”

"Well that's not fair." It's your turn to pout now, just as playfully. "I have no talent for double meanings, if my roommate is to be believed."

“Really?” He turns back around and smirks at you. “If you don’t figure it out by the time I drop you off at your place, I’ll let you in on the pressure.”

"You're enjoying this too much." But it's amusing rather than anything else, and you nudge him playfully.

“Maybe a little.” He chuckles as he climbs back on the bike and motions you over. “Climb back on, sweetheart.”

If teasing you is what keeps that smile on his face then you are all for it. You just shake your head to make him laugh again and swing your leg back over the back of his bike. Your arms slide easily around his waist this time with no hesitation in the thing, and you giggle all over again when the engine roars to life.

“Want to go a little faster this time?” Marcus yells over his shoulder.

"Go for it!" There's no question you'll be safe with him, and the adrenaline from the ride is definitely worth it, so you just hold on a little tighter.

“Hang on!” Marcus laughs as he kicks the peg up and twists the throttle of the bike hard enough to lurch you out of the parking spot and make you squeal in surprise.

Back on the highway Marcus picks up the pace, moving you through traffic with expert handling and a fearlessness that goes straight past anything worrying and directly to being such a damn turn on.

This time there’s less talking, more wind buffering around you. Marcus loves the feeling of it, having spent plenty of time wishing he had the skill of flying like Miracle Guy, but this is a close second. He grins as you squeeze him tight and he lets go of one handlebar to cover your hands with his own as he carries you further up the coast.

The colors of sunset are just starting to appear on the horizon when Marcus points out a sign for an ice cream stand up ahead. His hand has been warm on yours whenever it's been safe for him to have it there, and you could swear that the warmth radiating off of him in waves has changed somehow. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Throttling down, he pulls into the parking lot of the ice cream stand, happy that it seems moderately busy on this beautiful night. Even better, there’s benches facing the ocean to sit and eat. “Now are you a sundae kind of girl or a cone?” He asks playfully.

"Yes to both," you laugh honestly. You both take off your helmets and pop off the bike to stretch your legs, but stick close to each other while other people bustle around having fun. "But tonight feels like a cone night. Much easier for sitting and watching the water with."

“I agree.” Marcus can’t help but touch you again, keeping his hand on your back again. “Figure once we finish up here, we’ll turn around and start heading back to L.A. Don’t want you too sore from riding too long.”

"Sure. We got a perfect night for a few more hours of driving." Though you have no desire to see the night end, you're not trying to monopolize every second of his time. Or at least you wouldn't admit to wanting it. For now you just keep close and lean into his side a little as you stroll toward the stand overlooking the water.

“It’s also a good reason to stop at these stands.” He looks over at you and smirks. “If you aren’t used to it, it’s a real workout on your hips and thighs.”

"Some things are worth being sore for." It's amazing the way you miss even your own innuendo, but there it is. The words don't even register a second meaning on their way out of your mouth.

Marcus waits a beat for you to smirk, but you don’t. Giving credence to your claim that you don’t get secondary meanings. “Yep.” He chuckles. “Let’s figure out what ice cream we want.”

"I'm going to guess...pistachio for you." You glance up at him when you get into line and raise an eyebrow. "Or Rocky Road? Something classic."

“Actually…” Marcus smiles as he glances at the list of flavors. “I was thinking the sinful Caramel truffle swirl.” He admits.

"Ooh, we're going for something fancy tonight." It might be the mood or the sunset, but he is just remarkably handsome tonight. "Sounds tasty."

“You always go fancy with ice cream.” Marcus laughs. “Or red velvet, peanut butter cup mashup?”

"Red velvet and caramel swirl mash up?" Suddenly it's a game, playing with pairings, and his hand on your back has slipped to your waist making you feel giddy like you're still flying on that bike with him.

“Orrrr the banana flavored ice cream with peanut butter, chocolate chips and caramel swirl?” He asks, nearly drooling at the combinations they offer.

"The Elvis. Always a classic." All it's missing is bacon, and you would absolutely use that as a sundae topping. "I say we pick two and swap halfway through. Best of both worlds."

Marcus grins slowly and nods. “Sounds like a plan to me.” His fingers tighten on your waist slightly as you both turn back towards the window and step up to order. “Ladies first.” He murmurs to you.

You end up ordering coffee cookies and cream and Marcus gets the Elvis-inspired concoction that had him drooling, and within minutes you’re scouting for a place to sit in the small army of benches overlooking the water. The pinks, purples, and orange in the sky are a watercolor collage of the perfect sunset, and the smattering of other couples who also chose to stop here on their dates have given the place a more romantic feel than a little seaside ice cream stand probably ever would ever have on its own.

“Sooooo.” Marcus guides you over to the benches, the girl behind the window assuring them that they will bring the ice cream to you. “How is the view?” He asks, sitting down besides you and offering his hand. If you want to take it, you have the option.

“I think it might be my new favorite.” In fact, you’re so busy admiring his profile against the colorful sky that you almost miss his proffered hand. Almost. But you slip your hand into his larger one with a shy smile, relishing the simple intimacy.

Marcus isn’t looking at the sunset. Instead his eyes are on you. “Mine too.” He promises, curling his fingers around yours protectively.

“Yeah?” You’re both the same kind of sappy, it seems, and the smile on your face widens immeasurably. Your cheeks are going to ache from it tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He grins but doesn’t say anything else, just letting both of you settle back and watch the light play over the water. His hand doesn’t leave yours and he sighs softly. “The view of the water is nice too.”

A laugh - small and breathy - cracks your dreamy expression and you manage to thank the teenage girl who brings over your ice cream when she arrives a moment later. “Yes,” you grin at him, nearly giggling. “The water is nice, too.”

The first bite of the creamy, sweet ice cream makes Marcus moan, rolling his eyes back. “Holy shit.” He groans, taking another lick of the confection. “I know we’re trading but you have to try this now.” Having the perfect dessert almost makes up for having to let go of your hand. Almost.

“That good?” You ask, and he nods when he holds it out to you. It’s messier than you're proud of, that first taste, but you groan right along with him and let your eyes float shut happily. “Holy shit, it is that good.”

“Right?” He’s practically giddy as he takes another bite of it happily. “This is definitely a place to come back to again one night.”

“Absolutely.” The first bite of your own cone is just as good, and you moan again happily. “If it’s all this good then we’ll have to come back with Missy.”

“Missy will insist on it.” Marcus chuckles. “That girl has never met an ice cream flavor she didn’t love. She even eats mint chocolate chip.” He makes a face and grins at you.

“Mint chocolate chip is delicious!” You protest immediately, making him just grimace even more dramatically. “Fine, more for me and Missy, then. You’re the one missing out.”

“I will happily miss out.” He promises you. “I don’t care for the taste of toothpaste with my chocolate.”

“How about coffee and Oreos?” Offering him a first taste of your ice cream is only fair since you’d had one of his, but more than anything you’re just enjoying the easy teasing between you.

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Marcus doesn’t hesitate in sampling the cone you offer him and he groans happily. “God.”

“Right?” You laugh, trying to ignore the way the sounds reverberate through you anytime Marcus groans or moans over delicious food. “We have to come back. Gotta try every flavor.”

“Absolutely. Although with Missy coming, we’ll have to trade the motorcycle for the car.” He doesn’t mind it, and to be honest, he likes that you want to include his daughter.

“I don’t mind.” Spending time with his daughter is more important than how you travel, and honestly you’re not sure you’ll be composed enough for family bonding with how fucking wet riding that bike has made you. “The bike can be for when it’s just us.”

“I like the way you think.” Marcus smirks slightly and takes another bite of his ice cream.

“After all…” When you smirk at him it’s devious. “I don’t think the bike would be considered very ‘Daddy’ of you.”

He snorts, nearly choking on the melted cream of his dessert. “That’s just mean.”

“Me? Mean?” You blink at him innocently, with your eyes as wide as they’ll go. “Never! But tease? Absolutely.”

“So you tease but you don’t get the dirty meanings behind comments?” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “Interesting.”

“I guess I just…never expect anyone to make dirty comments to me?” It feels like an excuse, or something silly, and you shrug your shoulders. “So it never occurs to me.”

“Why?” That seems impossible to him. You’re beautiful, kind, smart and funny. “While I don’t subscribe to catcalling women all the time, there’s got to be times where people come onto you.”

“Maybe.” Another shrug and you feel yourself looking away, like you ought to be embarrassed for missing out on something. “But I never notice unless it’s extremely obvious. Like the day you asked me to have lunch with you the first time? You flat out asked me.”

“I don’t mind having to be blunt.” Marcus leans in and nudges your shoulder slightly. “I’ll keep it in mind when I want you to know I’m flirting with you.”

“I’ll learn,” you promise, knowing the whole thing sounds silly to any ‘normal’ person. “Learning how you flirt is easier than learning how everybody in the world flirts.”

“This is very true.” Marcus is halfway down with his cone so he dutifully holds it out for you to take.

“Trade time.” You offer him your cone in exchange, glad that something so simple can be enjoyable for both of you. After everything you’ve been through over the last few years, you really have realized that it’s the little things that mean the most to you. Something as simple as sharing food makes everything much more intimate.

“We might have to get a couple of pints to take home next time.” Marcus suggests. “Bring a cooler.”

“We can make homemade ice cream sandwiches.” The thoughts roll on - of spending more time with him, getting to know Missy - the daydreams you have only started to allow yourself this week as you waited eagerly tonight.

“Ohhhh make some cookies for the sandwiches.” Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the idea.

“Exactly.” His enthusiastic reaction makes you grin, hoping that some of these little dreams might come true sooner rather than later. Tonight has really been perfect, and you don’t want it to end even if all you do is sit here in the after-dusk and watch the water together.

“So…anything else you want to do?” He asks softly. “We don’t have to end the date after we get back to L.A.”

“Honestly? We could probably do anything and I’d enjoy it.” Simple, maybe, but you prefer to think of it as being easy going. And you’ve never not enjoyed time with this man. “Maybe we could just…curl up? Watch a movie or something? Unless that sounds boring to you.”

“We could do that.” Marcus offers after thinking about it for a second. “Do you want to do this at your place or mine?” Just because you were picked up from a date at your apartment doesn’t mean you want him to come back to it. He frantically tries to remember if he did the dishes this morning.

“It’s probably easier if you come back to mine, I think.” Not that the very idea of it doesn’t have you shaking a little with anticipation. “That way you don’t have to drive the round trip between our places just to drop me off.”

“If that’s what you want.” Marcus chuckles quietly and decides to be honest. “I was just panicking and praying I had cleaned up from breakfast this morning.”

“There’s no reason to worry about that.” You shake your head, pausing for a second to lick away a drop of ice cream before it can skate down your hand. “A pristine house always confuses me. It’s supposed to be where you live, and life is messy.”

“Life is messy but I don’t think day old dishes are the way to express it.” Marcus chuckles. “I always think of shoes by the door, backpacks slung over the stair banister, throws and pillows messy on the couch.” He shrugs. “Basically how my house looks.”

“If you would be more comfortable at your house, I don’t mind.” For you, this is all about making him as at ease as possible, because you know that no matter what you’ll enjoy yourself. “I can take an Uber home?” Or spend the night, but you won’t say that part out loud.

He chuckles quietly. “I was wanting you to be comfortable.” He pouts slightly, playfully, at you.

“Too considerate for our own good.” You have to laugh a little, realizing that you’re both dancing around each other. “Why don’t we go to your house, then?” An Uber ride now will give you time to think, and to maybe not do something impulsive like ask him to stay.

Marcus nods. “That sounds good. We’ll have the house to ourselves and not have to worry about bothering the neighbors.” He murmurs, knowing you probably won’t get his meaning.

“Sounds good.” The smile you give him is admittedly a little dreamy, but that’s okay. A first date should be dreamy if it’s any good. Now that it’s officially dark out, the night seems to have taken on an extra layer of comfort that you hadn’t expected. Or maybe it’s just that you’re leaning into his side on the bench.

Marcus quickly devours the cone, but he offers you the very tip of the cone - the best part in his opinion. “Here, sweetheart.” He leans up and holds it up to your lips. “The sweetest bite.”

There’s something very intimate about it but you don’t shy away, accepting the gift by nipping it right out of his fingers with your teeth but still accidentally grazing his fingers with your lips in the process. He’s right about it, though, and you hum happily when you offer him the same last bite of the cone you had been holding.

It should be obvious how Marcus is feeling from the way his breath catches when you graze his fingers, but he doesn’t know. So he makes it obvious. He wraps his lips around your fingers and sucks lightly.

As gentle as he is when he does it, it sucks the air straight out of your lungs to make you gasp. There's no possible way to miss the deliberate way his tongue flicks at your fingertips instead of focusing on the nub of the ice cream cone that you had been offering, and although he does come away with the treat in his mouth that's not at all what you're focused on now. You stare for a second before you can compose yourself again, and instead of being gobsmacked you immediately feel your whole face burning.

"Delicious." He hums, smirking at you slightly as he licks his lips before he starts to lick his fingers clean of any melted ice cream that dripped down. "Are you ready to go back?" He asks, watching you carefully as he sucks his thumb clean.

The reply gets stuck in your throat at first but you nod, eventually managing to stammer out a "Yes" and flustering, because what you want to do is drag him in for a kiss but that seems awfully forward. Or maybe it isn't at this point and you're just paranoid - who knows.

Marcus chuckles quietly, suddenly more confident on this date than he had been up to this point. His knuckles brush across your cheek and there’s still just a touch of light over the ocean to make the scene romantic with the string of lights around to give it a nice glow. “I’m going to kiss you, unless you say no.” He warns softly, making his intentions known and giving you a chance to pull away as he leans in.

“Why the hell would I do that?” It gives you just a second to appreciate his knack for crystal clear communication, which means the world to you, but you’re also not trying to open a dialogue. You lean in as easily as breathing, finding his lips a half seconds faster than he anticipated, and let your eyes flutter closed at that first touch. It feels so natural, like everything else tonight, and you reach one hand up to cup his cheek while the moment lingers between you beautifully.

Marcus sighs into the soft kiss. It’s gentle, promising. A first kiss that sweet dreams are made of and he’s careful to not take it any deeper. If you want to kiss him again, he can expand then. After a moment, or many an hour, he pulls away with a smile. “Ready, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.” As soft and sweet as it is, your whole self is buzzing with it and you run your thumb along his jaw as you nod. “Ready, handsome.”

The two of you stand up and there’s a natural way that you seem to drift towards each other. His hand sliding around your waist and he hums softly. “Are you warm enough in that jacket for the ride home?” He asks, knowing that it will get cooler now that the sun is down.

“I’ll be okay.” He must not know that he radiates heat. It comes off him in waves and you’ve wondered more than once how he could possibly survive wearing sweaters like he does in Southern California weather while being so warm. Maybe it’s just an aura he gives off. “If I’m chilly when we get to your house we’ll just have to curl up under a blanket.”

Marcus groans slightly, barely refraining from making another dirty comment, but his fingers flex slightly on your hip. “Whatever you want.” He promises.

“Did I say something?” You’re starting to pick up on things. On his cues that could be considered unusual. At least, he never groaned around you before.

“Yeah.” He knows you didn’t mean it sexually. “I was just thinking of all the ways I could be under a blanket with you, sweetheart.” He admits as the two of you stop in front of his bike again. “It’s adding to that pressure I was talking about.”

With two pieces of the puzzle, it's like something clicks into place in your mind and you suck in another breath, clamping your mouth shut to keep from openly giggling. "Oh." You duck your head and push into his space a little, just to press a kiss to his cheek. "I wouldn't... wouldn't mind not making it through the movie," you admit quietly.

He chuckles quietly and reaches for the helmet for you. “That’s up to you.” He promises quietly. “Completely up to you.”

The ride back to LA is easy. The giddiness in your blood is different than it was when you left the city but no less exciting - just a new kind of anticipation. The idea that he does actually want you as much as you want him is exhilarating, making you hyper aware of the way you have to cling to him as he guides you through traffic. The strength of him despite how he might look soft to the outside observer. The breadth of his back and shoulders giving you a place to rest your head as your drive that only makes you wonder if the breadth of his chest would be even more comforting.

There is a slight urgency to getting back this time. He’s not speeding too badly but it’s not the leisurely drive it had been on the way out. Not with the fact that your hand has slipped under his jacket and resting on his stomach, warm and heavy.

His house is picturesque from the outside: the pinnacle of upper-middle class southern California comfort. A gate and security box outside let you in to see the well kept front yard and around the side of the house where the pool is beckoning with welcome. It looks tidy but not fussy, which is just like him. "Home sweet home?" You hum when he cuts the engine in his driveway.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus offers, letting you swing yourself off the back of the bike before he lets down the kickstand and dismounts himself. “Hopefully you like it.”

"I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't." As reluctant as you are to pull away, you take off the helmet you had been wearing and hand it off to him to secure. The night has barely gotten a chill but the ride definitely created a breeze, and you smile when you take his offered hand. "Do you want to give me the grand tour?"

“Of course.” He practically beams at how you smile at him. It’s the type of smile that makes him feel like a warm blanket has settled over him. “Missy has managed to make this hang out central in the summertime when she’s here. The kids like to come swim.”

“I would too, if I were them. Any place with a pool is the best place to spend free time.” There’s vestiges of teenagers everywhere when he shows you the path to the backyard - pool toys in a large crate and everything brightly colored in every way. It feels lived in and loved.

“Of course. And it’s always asking if I can grill hamburgers or whatever.” He huffs, but his grin gives away how much he enjoys it. “Do you know how many bags of chips teenagers can plow through?”

“It’s gonna be even more if I start coming over.” You flash him a grin that says you’re one hundred percent ready to suck up to his daughter to make sure she likes you. “Dips and desserts are kind of my thing.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Do you mean to bring them or I’ll have to buy more?” He teases with a wink.

“Oh no, I’ll make them.” You promise, laughing right with him. “Nothing says pool party and burgers like fresh salsa and guac.”

“You make homemade guacamole and my daughter would be your best friend.” Marcus laughs. “She eats it all by herself.”

“Befriending Missy is very high on my list of priorities.” That’s something that shouldn’t be a secret from him - that you value him enough to make his daughter a priority. Tonight has been amazing and might still continue to get better, and it’s important that he knows how seriously you take this.

“The key to her heart is avocados and green chili sauce.” He confides, whispering playfully. “If you can make green chili enchiladas, she might ask you to move in.”

Your other hand moves around his waist when he pulls you into his side and you grin up at him when you hug him. “I really hope you don’t mind having me around then, because it sounds like Missy and I can live off the same foods.”

“If you can cook it, thank God.” Marcus huffs. “Because for some reason mine never turns out right.”

“We’ll have to see what she thinks.” You lean into Marcus with a smile. “I hope they make the cut.”

“If they are halfway decent, it would be a lot better than mine.” He chuckles, leaning into you and sending you an up close wink.

“Wanna show me the inside?” A nod to the house is a small thing, but getting to see his space for the first time is a big deal.

“Of course! Yes, of course.” He huffs at himself and shakes his head. “Come inside, please.”

The house is lived in. Cozy and as tidy as it can be while being inhabited by a single dad and his teenage daughter. No cleaning lady has been through here, no private chef has seen the inside of this kitchen or painstakingly set this table. It hasn’t been touched by an interior decorator or a stylist. It’s just their home, and you like it all the better for that.

“So this is it.” He’s never been a showy person, motioning to the living room and open kitchen. “It’s home and to be honest, probably could use a hell of a dusting.” He admits, blushing slightly.

“It’s just like you.” The words come with a soft, lopsided smile. “Comfortable, welcoming. Like you don’t want to leave once you’ve been let inside.”

Marcus smiles slowly and nods. “Well it’s a good thing that you only leave when you want to.”

It’s a chance to take, but you’re willing to go out on a limb right now. With his fingers still threaded through yours it’s easy to turn into him and tip your head back. It’s just a small moment, or at least it starts that way, but you place a kiss to the corner of his mouth in what is - for you - a very daring move. “That is a good thing,” you murmur, hoping that wasn’t too forward after he kissed you earlier in the evening.

It warms him, making him snake his free hand around your waist and pull you closer. “Hmmmm.” He hums quietly and shakes his head. “We can do better than that, sweetheart.” He promises before he leans in to kiss you again.

It’s firmer this time, more wanting, and you sigh into it with a freedom and enthusiasm that is only encouraged by how close he’s holding you.

Marcus feels the tension building, loves how naturally this is progressing and he tilts his head slightly so he can run his tongue along the seam of your lips.

You shiver a little and sigh, opening up for him and gliding your tongue along his for that first taste of exploring something deeper. While his hand tightens at your waist, yours slide up his shoulders easily, pulling the two of you together like magnets. You opening up for him is like opening the floodgates for Marcus. The needs that have been building for him spill out, making him become more assertive. Guiding you towards a counter while groaning into your mouth, he presses against your body, his own hard and throbbing for you.

Permission has been given here - permission to act and permission to want in a way that you can’t remember even scratching the surface of with anyone before him. Of course there were others before him, you’re not that innocent, but it’s been a long time and something about the way Marcus is mapping the inside of your mouth so carefully and methodically feels momentous. You moan for him, softly at first but it quickly becomes needy, and tangle your fingers in his clothes like a desperate, silent plea to have them out of the way.

“Baby.” Marcus pants as he pulls away, sucking in the air he had been deprived of while he was kissing you. His lips trail down your jaw. “You need- let me know- if- if we need to stop.” He manages.

“Could say the s-same to you —” It’s not as though you haven’t dreamt of this. Gotten yourself off to the thought of this. Tried to imagine if he would be rough and needy from desperation or soft and gentle out of caution and affection. Now that you might be a hair’s breadth away from finding out you don’t ever want to stop.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Marcus lets out a breathless chuckle against your pulse. “Baby I want to show you my bedroom.” He murmurs desperately. His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Please.” There’s nothing more straight forward than that, and you nod almost frantically.

“Okay.” He pulls away from you and takes your hand. “Let’s go upstairs.” He offers, giving you a moment to breathe.

If you were in a more eloquent mood you might have thought it was like being led through a palace by your very own Prince Charming, but as it stands the only thing you can really focus on is the heat radiating off of him and the urgency with which you’re both climbing the stairs. You barely make it to the landing before you’re glued to each other again, blindly grasping along the hallway as you moan into another kiss.

It has been a long time since Marcus was in such a hurry to ferry someone into his bedroom. Yet his hands grip every part of you that he can reach and he is pushing off your jacket right there in front of the stairs so he can touch more of you. Drunk off the soft sounds you pour into his mouth.

One by one the pieces of clothing start to drop - your purse, both jackets, his shirt - with an urgency that you hadn't known you had until his hands were spanning your whole hips with one great grasp and his teeth found exactly how sensitive the tender skin of your neck is. "Marcus–" His name is a prayer before it becomes a chant and your own hands map the expanse of his chest as you tumble through a doorway that you desperately hope leads to his bedroom.

“Gonna make this good baby.” It’s a desperate promise to his ears, especially as long as he’s been without intimacy. Unless you count him jerking off this morning in a desperate attempt to not attack you. Though that point seems to be moot.

"So good." How could you doubt that about him? Well...you don't, honestly, but you understand that as long as it's been for you it's been much longer for him. And to have a little reassurance might go a very long way tonight. "So fucking good."

“Let me know if I do something that you don’t like.” Marcus orders you softly, smirking at you because he doesn’t think that it will be likely. “It has been a long time since I’ve been able to go down on someone.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” Having had no expectation for tonight, that bowls you over like a ton of bricks and you look up at him with lust blown eyes. “There is nothing I don’t like about that.”

He chuckles, the deep, raspy sound of arousal and anticipation. “You don’t know, I could be a biter.” He teases, knowing that he will put his teeth marks on you in a few different places.

"How do you know I wouldn't like that?" You tease back, enjoying that every single second doesn't have to be fully loaded and serious. Being able to laugh with your lover is something you need.

Marcus snaps his teeth at you playfully at winks. “Only one way to find out.”

Giggling in response, you happily draw him in for another kiss before stepping back toward his bed. One pull brings your dress up over your head, and you just have to thank your lucky stars that you wore a reasonably cute matching underwear set tonight. It's not all the way to lingerie, but it's nicer than your every-day stuff. If you had anticipated this at all, you would have pulled out the fanciest thing you own.

“Fuck.” The sight of your pretty panties and bra makes his cock twitch in his pants and he’s quickly ridding himself of the t-shirt he had worn. He might be slightly self conscious, it’s been a long time since he was in Heroics shape, but he ignores that as he stares.

"You took the word right out of my mouth." It might be a silly thing, but you can't help staring right back for a moment. The little bit of softness around his middle doesn't diminish his figure one ounce. If anything, you like a bit of softness with all that strength. He looks broader like this - shoulders tapering down to trim hips - and you step backward again. One step closer to his bed.

“Take off your bra.” Marcus orders quietly before he smirks and holds up his hand to stop you. “Better yet…hold still.”

Tilting your head at him, you stop reaching behind you. A second later the hook and eye clasps on your bra open completely untouched. "Did you just--?" Your hand immediately reaches back to touch the clasp, which feels completely normal and unbent, and you pull your bra down your arms with a smirk. "Metal powers. Handy."

“Very handy.” He might look like the cat who got the cream and his eyes only get wider as your breasts are revealed to him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching for the button of his jeans. “Do you like your nipples sucked on?” He asks, mouthwatering as he imagines it.

"Mmhmm." For some reason the question paralyzes you, like that is somehow what has made tonight completely real. "I-- y-yes, god yes."

“Then I’m going to suck on them.” Marcus groans like you’ve given him a gift. “I’m going to suck on them while my fingers stretch open your little pussy before I lick it.”

"Fuck." One more step back and your calves bump against his bed frame, almost making you lose your balance because you weren't expecting to find the all-important piece of furniture so easily. "Do it, Marcus. Touch me, please."

His jeans are pushed down, his boxers tented with a large wet spot from where he is leaking. “Lay down.” Marcus practically growls out the order, eager to see you spread out in his bed.

All in one not-too-smooth motion, you shift back onto his bed and slip out of your panties, wanting to just bypass any other awkwardness by laying yourself bare for him. Everything Marcus wants at this moment, you are more than happy to give him.

He had wanted to strip off your panties, but it’s completely okay if you are bare. Giving him the perfect unobstructed view of your body. He hisses through his teeth and rushes to strip off his boxers. “Jesus baby, look at you.”

"Too busy looking at you." His cock is thick, and longer than you've had before, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as you take in the sight of him prowling toward you. Two steps and he's leaning on the bed, making the mattress dip to hold his weight and bringing the heat of his proximity back to you. "Fucking gorgeous."

“Yes you are.” Marcus hovers over you, watching you squirm underneath him as he takes in the view. “Let me kiss you again, sweetheart.”

"Gladly." You would drown in him right now if you could - kissing him is the least of it. The weight and breadth of him on top of you makes you feel almost dainty as you breathe him in, and just a touch of warm wetness on the inside of your thigh tells you he is just as excited by the turn tonight has taken as you are.

The kiss is hot, frantic and Marcus is lowering himself onto you before he even realizes it. Needing to get closer. “Fuck.”

It feels like your hands are everywhere at once, trying to map the length and breadth of him while you memorize his taste. With no hesitations between you, the instinct to reach down and wrap your hand around his length is easy to give in to.

You would think that he’s been surprised, maybe even hurt from the way that Marcus sucks in a loud breath. But there’s no mistaking the way his hips jerk forward when your hand surrounds his cock and squeezes gently. It’s the sweetest kind of torture and he feels the burst of pearly liquid build up on the tip naturally. “Shit.” The ragged groan is followed by his mouth starting to blaze a wet trail across your chest in search of your nipple.

Your own gasp nearly matches when he finds it, drawing a moan from you and arching your back off the bed and letting your eyes flutter shut just for a second before you peel them open again to watch him. Ravenous isn’t usually a word you would use to describe Marcus but right now he is a man starved and the first step to satiating him is found at your tits.

There had been a few times where he had worried he wouldn’t be able to do this again. That he would be too nervous or just unsure of the new partner. But you have stripped all of those insecurities away and left him with nothing but heavy desire.

The sounds surrounding you like a halo turn filthy quickly. Groans muffled by skin, vocal moans, the sloppy sounds of Marcus lapping at your chest more and more desperately every time your hand moves on his cock.

“Fuck.” His groan is muffled around your nipple. His hands blaze a trail over your skin, groping and squeezing every piece of flesh he could. “So good.”

“Marcus—” You whimper when he moves across your chest, latching onto your neglected nipple with eager determination. “Fuck baby — need you to touch me. Please.”

Once you beg him, Marcus can’t deny you anything. His fingers slide down to slide through your folds and press against your clit as he switches over to the other breast. Your hand around his stills when he presses his fingers into you, totally absorbed in the feeling of being split open on two of his thick fingers as his thumb rubs circles over your clit. It has your chest heaving and body aching all at once, desperate to get as close to him as possible. To draw him into you and get him as addicted to the feel of you surrounding him as you already are to him surrounding you.

“So sweet.” Marcus pulls off your tit and groans when he feels how fucking tight you are as he pumps his fingers into your body. “Fuck, that what you need? That good? You need me to curl them?” He wants to know how to make you cum, wants to hear those breathless cries.

"C-curl, fuck, please--" It's impossible to form a complete thought with his fingers moving inside of you so gorgeously, but you nod and hope he can understand the broken sentence for what it is. "So good."

He hears you, his teeth nipping the side of your breast as he curls his fingers up and presses them deeper.

You keen in response, crying his name and grasping his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them perfectly against that gorgeous spongy spot inside of you and making you see stars. "Just-- fuck -- like that, oh my god."

Marcus groans, breathing against your skin and closing his eyes at the sound of your moan. “Good girl.” He coos breathlessly. “Oh fuck, good girl.” His cock pulses against your hip but he wants to make this good for you. Knowing that he won’t last too long in bed this time.

It's all too overwhelming and so good in all the ways that you've missed being touched, and Marcus's rhythm doesn't falter as he pushes you right to the edge. Barely gasping out a warning before your whole body seems to lock down under him, his name is on your lips when you fall apart for him the first time.

Marcus shudders, feeling the liquid heat rush over his fingers. Making him moan your name quietly as he keeps pumping his fingers up into to keep the pressure against that spongy spot and draw it out for you while he kisses along your jaw and murmurs small words of encouragement in your ear. “Good girl, so fucking good. Ride it out for me, baby.”

"Goddamn." When you feel like you can breathe again, you turn your head to capture his lips in a sloppy, eager kiss. "So fucking good, baby."

He chuckles quietly, soaking up your praise and slowly pulling his fingers out of you along with a whine when he does. “Good.” He pants. “You want–” He pulls back and looks into your eyes. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks.

"Fuck yes." There's no hesitation for you. Months of dreaming - and daydreaming - about this makes you nothing but pliant and needy. "I-I'm safe," you manage to pant out between kisses. "IUD, I mean."

He groans the idea of feeling you bare and having you full of his cum. “Good. I’m safe too.” He promises, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Been a long time and I’ve had a clean bill of health.”

"It's been a while for me, too." There's no reason for him to be self-conscious about that, and you brush the damp curls of hair out of his face to press a kiss to his forehead. "Doesn't matter," you smile softly. "Just matters that it's you."

That more than anything, makes him relax. Marcus kisses you, forgetting that he had promised to use his tongue on you as he shifts and covers your body with his. “So fucking beautiful.” He groans.

"All for you, baby," you promise him, knowing that nothing in the damn universe could pull you out of this man's bed now that you're here.

He doesn’t rush. Instead, settling between your thighs is a slow affair. He’s not some teenager that needs to be inside you, although the ache has built up to almost painful. Instead he kisses you as his hand slides between your bodies so he can position himself at your core and his eyes watch yours as he slowly starts to sheath himself in your welcoming body.

You feel like you're holding your breath as he presses into you, filling you up inch by gorgeous inch, but it's the low moan reverberating in your chest and the thick cock slowly splitting you open that gives you the feeling of breathlessness. Marcus isn't in a hurry and neither are you. With your foreheads pressed together and sounds of pleasure coming from both of you, the room around you has dissolved and narrowed your reality down to just him.

“Holy shit.” Marcus’s arms are trembling by the time he is buried to the hilt and he swears that he can’t breathe. The sexy and playful moment turns serious and he can’t do anything more than to press his lips tenderly to yours again while he tries to give you time to adjust before he moves.

He pulls back, rolling his hips away from you as slowly as he had punished them forward, and you gasp into his kiss when he drives into you again - slightly faster but not with anything approaching speed. A languid pace gives you both time to find a rhythm together and your lips only leave his to kiss and nip along his jaw line while he moans in your ear.

He closes his eyes as he languidly rocks into you. Keeping the pace steady. “When you’re ready, let me know.” He murmurs slowly, feeling the exquisite pleasure of your walls squeezing him. “I want to hear you scream my name tonight.”

"More, baby." He knows damn well that you're not above begging, and your tone is borderline pleading even without needing to be. All you know is that you want to be completely overwhelmed by him. "Fuck, I-- please, Marcus, want you so bad."

“W-wrap your legs around me.” Marcus groans out, pushing to his elbows and grins at you. “And hang on.”

Curiosity has you following his instruction as much as anything else, and you shift under him just enough to have your ankles meet at the small of his back. Your hands grasping at his arms and shoulders will have to be enough to ‘hang on’ like you’ve been told.

He hums, pleased by your willingness to comply and he grins at you, devilish as he winks. “Now tell me if I need to slow down.” He says before he withdraws again and snaps his hips forward.

“Fuck!” Slow and steady is apparently not Marcus’s preferred pace, as he begins to pound into you with stamina that could only come from a Heroic. If his goal is really to have you screaming his name, you have a feeling it won’t take very long at all.

Grunting, Marcus reaches up to grab the headboard so it doesn’t beat against the wall. Forgetting that he had removed the spacers so it didn’t the last time he had rearranged the room. There hadn’t been any need for them for a long time. Now he just moans as your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as he keeps hammering into you.

The little crescent moon marks your nails are sure to leave behind don't seem to phase him in the least. Every thrust feels like he's splitting you open for the first time all over again, spearing into you until your head is thrown back on his pillows and you have one hand braced again the headboard so you don't hit your head with the way he's fucking you into the mattress.

“J-Jesus.” He hisses. “K-know how many times I-I imagined this?” He demands, pushing the air out of your lungs with every harsh roll of his hips. “Nearly every f-fucking day.”

"Me -- oh fuck -- too." It's as much as you can do to string a few words together right now and you keen when he drives into you again.

Every time his cock hits the spongy walls of your cunt, you moan for him. Making him ramp up his pace to near frantic and all he can do is pant out your name between breaths.

It hits you like a freight train when that second orgasm comes, without any chance to give him warning or do anything except cry his name into the night, the sound reverberating off the walls with the wet slap on skin on skin as Marcus fucks you through your peak with your cunt clenching down on him like a velvet fist.

“F-fuck, good girl.” Marcus moans, closing his eyes and thanking the Gods that he managed to last long enough for you to be able to cum. “Shit, baby.” He covers your mouth once more for a desperate kiss as he rocks into you half a dozen more times before he plunges deep and pulses inside you, the liquid heat of his pleasure filling you up.

He swallows your moans as he empties himself inside you, and when both of you breathe again it's with brilliant smiles on your faces even though all eyes stay closed for a long moment afterward. When you do open your eyes, you press soft kisses along his jaw and cheeks, finally dusting a few on his lips. "Holy shit," you giggle quietly, chest still heaving as you pant.

His quiet laugh matches yours in breathlessness and he nods. “What you said.” He huffs, deciding the thing to do would be to collapse against you and tuck his head into your neck to snuggle and breathe you on.

You wrap your arms around him, legs going slack as you both just sink down into his mattress together as one. "Hell of a first date," you chuckle, kissing his shoulder where you've left marks behind.

“Mmmhmm.” His smirk is pleased and tired against your neck. “When I can move again, I’ll run you a bath and get us some water.” He murmurs.

"If we don't both fall asleep first." It wouldn't bother you for a second if that's what happened. Passing out after sex with Marcus still inside you is high on the fantasy list.

“How do you know what I’m trying not to do?” Marcus grumbles playfully at you, kissing your pulse softly.

"Cause it's what I'm trying not to do," you giggle against his skin. "That's a hell of a workout."

“Yes it was.” His softening cock twitches inside you and he giggles slightly, feeling euphoric. “I’m very glad you aren’t my student anymore.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 

My Masterlist!

[the-blind-geisha]

The City Bathed in Eternal Night

Description: The professor of the City of Vesser is well known all about the land for fighting a werewolf curse. But hardly would you have imagine that he would ask of you to be his assistant.

Pairing: M!Werewolf x F!reader

Rating: NSFW

Words: 6722

Commission for @thatoneslooth

The City of Vesser. 

It was a beautiful city filled with glittering lights, which adorned the many buildings that lined the streets. It was a gorgeous, once bustling city that was bathed in endless night.

Once, it did prosper… until a wicked werewolf curse seemed to tear the city, and her people, apart.

The train ride was always peaceful. Very few people felt compelled to risk traveling here as nobody knew how this dreadful curse truly worked—how it could affect people. Some even panicked that it could travel from person to person like a plague. 

Regardless, it didn't prevent you or others from visiting. You didn't live here, but you needed to get to town for other reasons beyond just visiting this time.

It was miles away from any nearby town, village, or city. It lived alone near the mountainside, shrouded in that mysterious darkness that never lifted. 

But you couldn't deny the beauty of it. Even sitting alone in your seat, you saw the approaching maw of the mountain that would open up to the jeweled City of Vesser in time.

Sometime during the drive, you glanced over and noticed a man resting in a way that made him seem like he had fallen asleep on the train ride.

He was well dressed, even wearing a type of dark coat with a fancy top hat resting off to the side of his seat that you would expect from someone of Vesser over anybody else in the world. The cane on its own was quite lavish as well. The grip had beautiful swirling designs. Your eyes traced over them many times before feeling a bit sick in doing so.

Honestly, he didn't look old. The main thought that came to your mind was he had to possibly have been someone in a place of power to afford such a flaunting of wealth.

Hearing the conductor announce the approaching train station in Vesser, both you and the unnamed man looked to the speakers overhead. Catching his bearings, he muffled a sigh to himself as he grabbed his top hat to place upon his brown hair. He sat upright out of the slouched position.

“Time eludes me too often,” he muttered to himself, digging into his coat’s inner pocket to pull out a pocket watch hidden there. “And what of yourself? Visiting, are you?”

It was there you realized he was possibly speaking to you since you were both the only ones in the cart. “Oh, umm. Yeah, just for the month, really. To see if I can find work and all that. I hear that there are quite a few openings for things I am good at.” You laughed nervously. “Don't know whether that’s good or not, all things considered.”

The nameless man fixed his glasses upon the slope of his nose. His brown eyes drifted in your direction as a warm smile spread upon his features. “Ah, been here often then, I’m to assume. Or are you here for more than just job hunting?”

His tone seemed to be hunting for something. You rolled your teeth over your lower lip, shaking your head. “Sometimes I visit. I don't come that often, but just enough to know my way around the shops and all.”

His tone was gentle, soothing as he replied, “That’s wonderful then. Do mind the townsfolk, my dear. It’s a bit of… well, the Hunters are usually out in full force about this time.”

He sounded annoyed by that statement.

You knew of the Hunters. During the height of the full moon, the curse seemed to spread like a wildfire. More and more of the werewolves would spawn from the shadows, causing only those that were well gifted in rounding up these beings or shooting them down to take to the streets.

“I didn't realize it was that time for such a thing.” 

When the train came to a halt, the man pushed himself to his feet with the assistance of his cane. “Then it would probably be in your best interest to be escorted by someone.” He motioned for you to follow. “If you wish, I can assist you in such a thing.”

He seemed well put together for someone his age, even for someone who appeared to live here in this cursed city. In just a few short words, you found yourself feeling safe. So you nodded.

“Yeah, I just need to get to the hotel off of Kingsberry Lane. I wish to stay there for a bit till I can get enough money to afford a small apartment of my own.” You weren't sure how much you should divulge to someone you didn't know.

As the door opened with a few grinding gears and a huff of steam, he stepped to the side and motioned outward. “After you, my dear.”

It was there you introduced yourself, figuring it would be better than the pet names.

He grabbed the rim of his hat, moving it slightly with a minor bow. “Professor Arthur Layton, at your service,” he introduced in turn.

Hearing that name, you found yourself nearly choking on your breath. “Professor Layton…As in the Professor Layton of Benithaine?”

“I suppose it’s been many a year now that my name has become infamous where a ‘the’ has ridden before it, but—yes, I do suppose I am that Professor Layton,” he said jokingly.

“Your reputation precedes you, professor,” you said with a bit of flattery. “Even miles from here—where I live—I’ve heard tales of what you do.”

He was the professor studying the reasoning behind the werewolf curse. Some claimed he was an obnoxious pacifist, making the Hunter’s work all the worse if he ever showed up on the scene. He was under the belief that most—if not all—werewolves could be brought back to their senses, hoping to stop the insanity that could cause outrage and hatred towards something he could find a cure for.

Not a cure for preventing the curse, but a cure to the mind being eroded by the change.

In order to even do that, he needed subjects alive.

“Is that so? Well, I will find relief in the idea that those tales are of the flattering type,” he chuckled, escorting you as promised.

“I promise you, professor, they are.” Thinking of all he did, you couldn't help but ask, “Or do you prefer Doctor Layton?”

He shrugged at the question. “Professor is just fine with me.”

The opera house soon came into view, glistening across the pond that was dazzled by the street lights. The hotel you were allowed to stay within was not far from sight. You found relief that nobody attacked you on your way.

The last thing you wanted was for the professor to try and protect you from anything. While he didn't seem feeble, his cane would suggest he had a bad leg from something. He was leaning on that cane quite a bit.

He motioned to the front door. “Here we are. I am certain you can make it from here.”

You smiled with a nod. “I can. Thank you once again, professor.”

He waved away the thought. “It is quite alright. I am happy to be of service.”

There was a moment he seemed to pause, his entire body going rigid before he looked off just down the nearby streets. He motioned at you in urgency.

“Get inside. Quickly,” he whispered.

The distant howls of the wolves made your blood run cold, urging you to swiftly do as he suggested. While you knew they were to be expected, you weren't counting on The Hunt to be out at full force during your visit.

Not that there was any way to know when The Hunt would start. From what you could gather, they always happened during the height of the full moon or sometimes in between such.

Breathing out your relief in being spared any part of it, you made your way to the check in desk to see about (hopefully) relaxing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The night hours were oddly quiet. 

You would count your blessings in that regard, as you didn't want to worry about anything breaking into your hotel while visiting this otherwise lovely city.

The curse was the only thing to worry about. Well, that and maybe a few eccentric people that would believe the way you behaved (if odd) was worthy of studying, as it could be supposed early signs of the curse.

Thankfully those people were very few and far in between.

Job hunting was a chore on its own, and the last thing you wanted was a curse to swell hungrily in your mind.

If you plan on living and working here, you better make do, you thought to yourself.

Making sure you had all addresses and places of interest marked down in your journal properly, you dimmed the oil lamp before packing up what you needed to be on your way.

Even if the clock chimed three in the afternoon, the darkness loomed unwavering. The stars were the only thing to aid the lights of the streets of Vesser. At times you wondered if you were possibly in a cave with the stars merely being that of shimmering crystals overhead.

It was a pleasant thought.

The distant sound of thunder booming startled you out of your thoughts. Noticing the lightning streak across the sky in warning of what was to come, you took a steady breath inward in wonder of where to head.

“I’m a gods damned fool,” you muttered to yourself. “I should have brought my umbrella with me at the very least.” Noticing a decorative overhang, you hurried towards it to take cover the second a few raindrops fell.

Only a few raindrops soon turned into an immediate downpour. Well, that was just great.

This wasn't how you wanted to spend the day trying to hunt for a job. While you had enough money to cover two months at the hotel, every second was precious.

As you tried to wait out the rain, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

Looking over your shoulder at the door just behind you, it was there you noticed Professor Layton. Your last encounter had been a few days ago, and with the city as big as it was, you weren't expecting to run into him again so soon.

“Oh, umm… Hello there, professor.”

“You are certainly ill prepared for this storm, aren't you?” He shifted the bag in his possession in a way that made it seem like he was eager to hide what it was he had.

You dismissed his actions regardless, as he only just came from a tea shop.

“Afraid so,” you sighed. “I wanted to continue searching for a place to work but, I am afraid I won’t be able to with it raining like this.”

He hummed aloud, curling his finger to his lips in thought. “Well, if you don't mind a bit of a detour, I wouldn't mind having an assistant at my place for a moment.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest. “W-With you?”

The professor laughed playfully. “I can tell that unnerves you a bit. Was I too forward?”

“N-Not exactly…” Your words trailed off as you gripped onto your shirt where your heart continued to beat fiercely. “I could only think of the werewolves and all of that, professor.”

“Ah, that issue.” Again, he thought for a moment on how to respond. “No need to be so concerned, my dear. There are none there that are of an unstable mind.” He smiled warmly. “That I can assure you.”

You were quiet, thinking on how to proceed. Arthur’s fingers tapped upon his cane patiently waiting for you to give him an answer.

“And this is just to help you, right?”

“What assistants usually do, yes.” He muffled a laugh. “But not for free, of course. I will be more than willing to pay you for the hours you are with me.”

You did come looking for a job, and this one was lined up perfectly for you. Even if it would be staying near the very thing that this city was negatively known for, perhaps it was better to understand the threat than to be continuously fearful of it.

Breathing out steadily, you nodded. “Alright, professor. I would be delighted to assist you.”

Arthur smiled, motioning down the murky road. “This way then, if you please. Normally my brother would pick me up, what with my bad leg and all, but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

The professor’s words sounded tense—a bit on the uncertain side. But you dared not question what was racing through his mind.

“What happened to your leg?”

He shrugged his brow. “Mm, it was a very old incident, really. Nothing to worry of now.”

It sounded as though he wished to not speak of it, leaving you to drop the matter as the two of you made it back to his place of work.

It was a building that felt a bit removed from the city all together. It was locked behind a decorative steel fence and gate, out in the more wooded area. It made sense to you, as it would allow the professor to work in peace away from the commotion of the city.

Once inside, you were greeted with the beautiful decor that felt quite far back in time compared to where you lived. Everything had a more antique feel, making you worry if you touched a single thing in the building, it might all come undone.

Venturing further within, it was there you saw a rather impressive library where the books lined several bookcases. It would make sense the professor would have many titles be them for research or otherwise.

“I planned on making tea while awaiting news from my brother. Did you care for some?” Noticing your hesitation on answering, he smiled. “It’s a lavender tea. I find it often helps me relax with the type of work I must do.”

“Oh, umm. That sounds great, actually. Thank you, professor.”

“Very well. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Not feeling too comfortable venturing about the house on your own, you went to the library to sit down on one of the decorative reading sofas in an attempt to calm your nerves.

There was nothing that truly jumped out at you in terms of it being a hostile place. Even if you knew what went on behind the walls, you oddly felt safe with the professor. If he was alive this long tending to such a curse, then you could find comfort in that.

When he returned sometime later, you thanked him for the tea as you asked, “Who is your brother, professor? I fear that while you are well known about the lands, your brother doesn't seem to be easily known by name.”

To be honest, you didn't even know he had one.

Arthur hummed in thought against the rim of his teacup. “He prefers to remain in the shadows as best he is able. He is not offended by it in the least. His name is Hector, and he at times assists me in my research when he is available to do so.”

“Suppose that’s why you needed an assistant.”

“It was preferable to have one available when needed,” he confessed, a small laughter ringing in his words.

Nervously, you looked down the hall not far from where you both sat. “So where exactly do you keep these werewolves you’re researching?”

“We keep them in selected rooms we have here. If they are of the mentally unwell variety, we have to lock them in something a bit sturdier.” He sighed. “I hate doing such a thing, but it’s to make certain no incidents occur.”

After a moment to relax and gather your thoughts, the professor escorted you a bit more through the building to show you where everything was. The library did appear to be more a room to decompress as well as a few bedrooms that were on the upper floor. Arthur explained he and his brother sometimes slept here, or the two retreated to these rooms to recollect their thoughts.

While the other rooms on the middle floor were empty, he explained that was where those infected with a stable grasp on their situation resided. While the stronger restraints and the like were not far away on the same floor, you could tell by sight alone which ones were for who.

At least it didn't seem like a horrible insane asylum. You weren't certain how you would manage if that were the case.

As the professor ventured down the hallway of the middle floor, he stopped at the last door on the right. Grabbing the keys from his inner coat pocket, he undid the latch. “Let me go in first,” he insisted in a whisper.

The way he said such a thing made you wonder if you made the right choice in offering to work about, what could be, aggressive beings.

“She’s hopefully in a better mood today.” Opening the door ever slowly, Arthur walked into the room. A woman’s voice, heavy—almost exhausted sounding—greeted him.

“I could… smell you a mile away.”

Professor Layton smiled, the tenseness in his body seeming to evaporate at hearing her speak so humanly. “So your senses are still intact, are they?”

“More so than before, sadly.”

He made a hand motion in your direction, showing it was okay for you to follow in if you so wanted.

Glancing inside of the room, it was a charming little space. The only thing that really took you a bit back were the claw marks on the floor and walls. The woman appeared like any normal person you would have seen on the streets. And you meant that. With how ragged her clothing looked with the many tears upon it, she almost looked homeless. You knew transformations could tear up peoples’ clothing, but her shirt was so baggy that it almost appeared to be a night gown at best for her.

The dark rings under her hazel eyes were heavy, the short black hair a stringy mess, as it was no doubt weighed down by sweat.

Pulling up the chair nearby, the professor sat down to get a better read on her vitals.

As you got closer, you noticed—what appeared to be—a watch of some kind upon her right wrist. Cogs could be heard humming within it, and on the top of it laid a flat screen that fed out information to everybody in the room.

“Did it spike at all?” he asked, messing with a few of the buttons embedded within it to have the screen show different graphs that made little sense to you.

“During the evening hours… I think I heard it beeping rather annoyingly,” she confessed. Her eyes turned towards you. “Who is this?”

As you found yourself holding back a breath, Professor Layton answered for you. “An assistant of mine.”

You introduced yourself, managing a smile.

“A pleasure,” she said simply, her forehead resting in her hand shortly after.

Arthur’s brow wrinkled in concern as the graph blipped a bit more on the screen. His heels dug against the floor as he rolled the chair over towards the nearby nightstand to grab a box within it that held a few medical items inside.

“Did you not take the medicine I suggestion? I left it in here for that reason, Cyana.”

She shook her head, her fingers curling aggressively upon her forehead. “No… I didn’t think I would need it…this time.”

Arthur sighed. “That’s not a good enough reason.” He motioned at you. “I’ll need you to watch me do this a few times. As this is going to be one of the main reasons I want you to assist me here.”

Doing as asked, you watched as the professor filled up a container with a type of liquid you couldn't say you recognized. He showed you the exact line to measure it to before handing it over to Cyana.

“Sometimes we use injections of this, but I won’t work on that method with you till you’re more comfortable,” he insisted. His attention returned to the patient. “Drink this. It’ll prevent you from losing your mind once more.”

She stalled at the thought, both hands covering her face as she trembled with a low growling sound rumbling in her throat.

“Cyana.” The way Arthur spoke her name, it sounded like a parent scolding a child.

Eventually she did as she was asked, making you feel the tension slowly leave the room. I should probably make note of what I saw, you thought to yourself. Pulling out your phone, you did just that in a hurry.

“If you don't take this regularly like prescribed, you will end up losing what fight you have.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m just…so tired…”

“It’s an exhausting battle. I understand that,” Arthur sympathized. “But you need to be strong. I know you can be.” Pushing himself back to his feet, he motioned at you. “Come. I’ll need to make food for her while this works its magic.”

Following him out of the room in a quickened pace, you gave the professor a look of confusion. “She’s…one of them?”

He nodded. “Using the medicine I’ve concocted with my brother’s aid, we try to get them back to a human form that they can sustain as they so desire. It can be taken orally or intravenously. It’s worked a good bit of the time, but it’s not something that can continue to be used constantly to fight the curse; especially during the height of any full moon.”

Getting back to the kitchen, he collapsed into a chair with a nasally sigh.

“It’s not a cure all, is what I’m getting at.”

You couldn't help but smile, even if nervously. “Still… it seems what you and your brother are working on here is worth so much. It no doubt means a lot to quite a few people.”

He opened one eye to look at you. “Most of them, yes.” He stifled a laugh behind his lips. “The captain of the police force and the leader of the Hunters would disagree with you.”

Seeing only a small part of what the Laytons did together, you gathered up your courage in one single breath. “I, umm. I would like to continue to try and work hard with you, Professor Layton. Just… to do whatever I can to make certain these innocent people don't suffer.”

“Is that so? Well then, I welcome you aboard.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The brothers were an interesting duo.

As the days turned to months, you found that—while they didn't see eye-to-eye—it felt like their end goals were the same.

More than anything they wanted to find a means to grapple onto this curse to make certain it wouldn't spread any worse than it already had.

Even through what minor slip ups you had with learning underneath Professor Layton, you found the man to be patient. Even if aloof and hard to understand what went on behind closed doors. He didn't share everything, but you found comfort in his presence.

So much so that you often thought about him when you weren't even beside him at his place of work.

You did your best to keep your thoughts from ruining a seemingly good job with someone you cared for. To say it was a challenge was an understatement.

But he was patient, willing to teach you everything you needed to learn and more.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a close connection to him in what felt like no time at all.

During the late afternoon hours after trying to check in on Cyana one night, you overheard the two muttering in the dimly lit kitchen.

“If she is unwilling to do as instructed, we might as well release her. You can’t force someone to take medication even if it could save their life, let alone their mind,” Hector reminded his brother.

“I am… aware.” The way Arthur muttered such a thing gave you but a taste of another of his secrets that he kept hidden away in his heart.

“Not everybody can or even wishes to be saved, Arthur.”

He was silent, unable to respond to his brother. Even if Arthur was the younger brother of the two, he always appeared the older, wiser one.

“You know the full moon will rise tonight,” Hector whispered this time. “You better be cautious. Especially with her nearby.”

Arthur raised his hand, dismissing the thought. “I’ll.. Don't worry about it. I’ll speak with her about it in due time.”

Hector could be heard sighing as he dismissed the conversation. “I will leave you to it. I don't plan on keeping myself held back then.” With such a thing said, he departed from the building, a bag with him in tow. 

You assumed he meant in telling you what the two were hiding. Regardless, you stayed away from the discussion—awaiting for the perfect opportunity to walk into the kitchen to speak to Professor Layton privately.

Before you could even open your mouth upon doing so, he greeted you.

“Forgive him,” he muttered, speaking to you as though he knew you were there the whole time. “Working on this curse has worn us both down, I am afraid.”

While you hardly had a chance to get to know Hector as well as you wanted, he did seem a very ‘to himself’ kind of man. Rarely did he wish to be involved with others. It seemed, as opposed to his brother, Hector was more on the scale of not wishing to get attached to anybody.

“I don't think poorly of him. I just think he’s… I don't know. Lonely is probably the word I am looking for.”

The professor seemed to smile briefly at that. “You’d be right in that regard,” he murmured, looking at his teacup. “It might be in your best interest to head home for the day, however.”

“Why?”

He shook his head with another heavy sight that almost sounded as one of restraint. “The full moon will be in the sky tonight. It is… better you take refuge away from here.”

Over the months you had gotten better at being startled by any of those under the curse. You weren't sure why this night would be any different. “Wouldn't I have to deal with this kind of thing eventually? I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Arthur sighed again, his fingers curling rather aggressively against the cup he held. His breathing became heavier as he shook his head. “Very well,” he said. “However… what you see here tonight, I wish for you to never speak of it anywhere beyond these walls…!”

There was tension in the atmosphere, making you take a step back. “I promise.” 

It was a hesitant response, but one he seemingly accepted.

His body then jerked a bit, his hand swiftly moving to the table where you heard the wood nearly buckle under immense strength that no human alone could muster. A low, unnerving growl emanated about the room and before you could even think to utter a single word in horror, the sound of bones cracking as they shifted into something different filled the air.

The professor hastily removed his clothing before a single part of it could be shredded. He acted in such a way that it made you realize he no doubt had endured this transformation before, and it wasn't something that just happened recently.

“P-Professor…?” you stuttered, uncertain of what to make of it.

It was there you saw something that you never had before. There was a leg brace that had gears that grinded and expanded to meet the size of his new right leg, which had gained mass and fur beyond that of a normal human.

Knowing what tales you heard of werewolves, you assumed he would be able to stand on it just fine. But you noted he was keeping it off of the ground—his hands and other leg doing their all to support his massive, brown furred body.

“Professor Layton!” Without thinking, you ran to his side. Kneeling before his lycan form, you grabbed hastily for the glasses that had fallen from his face.

“This,” he wearily uttered, “this is…what I don't wish for you to speak of…”

Handing him his glasses, you tried to find whatever humor you could in the situation. “Well, umm. This was unexpected.”

His nostrils flared as he attempted a miserable laugh. “It’s nothing new, so don't be alarmed.” Accepting his glasses, he placed them best they were able to go upon his maw. “I’ve endured this for sometime now.”

Noticing he still needed his glasses, you gave him a curious look. “Guess just because you transformed, it doesn’t mean things improve magically, huh?”

Arthur shook his head, grabbing his cane to assist himself in standing upright once more. Much to your surprise, the metal cane was able to do just that—perhaps it was stronger than it appeared. “Not with the medicine I have crafted with my brother, no. In fact, it is meant to remind the body of what it is to be human. That can mean physical limitations included.” He took a seat back on the chair with a laborious grunt. “If those wishing to be physically cured by blindness, or any physical disabilities that have the curse, then yes. They can withhold the thought of taking our treatment. But in the process, they will turn into a feral beast.”

You looked down at his leg. “That device on your leg seems handy, professor.”

“It was made by someone—the very person who inspired me to wish to try and see to it all could be as lucky as myself and keep their mind in the process of enduring the transformation.”

Even without saying the name, you could tell the memory haunted him. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I could consider this lucky.” His haunting eyes looked to you. “I was the only one to not go insane. All those around me fell to madness…”

Your heart tugged mercilessly at his confession.

“At times, I worry I am fighting a losing battle—making people retain their humanity when they might be happier never to have it. Bliss is often coddled by ignorance.”

Without thinking, you embraced him in hopes to calm the racing thoughts that made him doubt himself.

His body tensed, urging you to realize all too swiftly what you were doing. You pulled away. “Oh! Sorry about that!” Your cheeks felt warm from the embarrassment.

Professor Layton stifled a laugh. “It’s quite alright. I just… wouldn't advise such intense contact around this time of the coming full moon.”

You fidgeted. “But it’s not a full moon yet.”

He shook his head. “Mm, not really. But you forget—I am still very much in the body of a beast.”

Those words were enough to make you wonder what to even say to that. “Oh, that. Well…” You chewed at your lower lip, wondering what to say. “I could… help in whatever way you need?”

He raised a single, bushy brow at the comment. “Either you’re very giving or you’ve been hiding something from me for a while now.”

“I guess even werewolves don't have a keen sense of a woman’s emotions, huh? I’ll find relief in that.”

“No, we don’t,” he answered with a gentle laugh. “But, I have a keen sense of other things, my dear. And without hesitation, I can easily say, humans give off a hint of sexual urgency rather easily.”

Hearing him be so forward about that made your ears feel as though they were on fire. “I-Is that so?”

“So I’ll be a bit more candid: are you certain you would find comfort and love in the very being that brings you fear, my dear?” When you struggled on how to answer, he continued, “Fear is something I can easily smell as well. It’s a rotten sense for one such as myself, but I don’t doubt it is compelling for others.”

“What about myself?” you asked. “I… know you’ve been into your work more often than not, and I don't want to distract you from—.”

“You’re not a distraction,” he interrupted. “I swear it. What matters is your emotions towards all of this.”

Your hands rested on the underside of his jaw, urging him closer to where you kissed him upon the slope of his nose. His massive claw moved just under your chin, encouraging your eyes upon his.

They were a beautiful golden, red hue. What would have terrified you before felt more human the more you looked deeply within the gorgeous abyss.

“I am limited in certain ways,” he reminded you in a low, growling tone. “But I will do my best to make up for it in others.” His claw trailed about the clothing you wore. “May I remove this?”

Your mind stalled. Unable to even speak, you nodded. “Of course. I don’t mind…!”

It was a series of perfect motions. Even with the deadly claws, he used them in such a manner that showed he had easily been through this before. Not a single nail nicked your skin or even tore your clothing.

The wolf inched closer, the warmth of his breath beating down on your exposed skin, followed by his tongue caressing your exposed breasts shortly after. It made your body tense, teeth rolling over your lower lip as the giant wolf before you tended to you in such a loving manner that it felt as though he had done all this before.

It was effortless.

He had urged you upon his lap, your thighs resting upon his as the moan rumbled so deeply in his throat, it felt akin to a growl. The vibrations were erotic, your fingers curling into his wild fur to urge him onward as your body rubbed in desperation for more of him.

But you hardly had to wait.

Even as the furs of the beast kissed upon your skin, you felt the intoxicating warmth of his growing erection rubbing against your inner thighs.

Not like you were far from it to begin with.

Still, the size of such a thing startled you—especially upon seeing the knot as well.

He called out to you, catching onto your anxieties as the rushing beat was quite loud for one such as himself. “I won’t do anything you’re not ready for. We could take it as far as this, and I would consider myself content with that.”

You felt okay to do anything. However, that knot was quite intimidating. “I can… I can suck you off at the very least?” Your fingers gripped upon the base of his cock just above the knot. “I don't think I could manage all of this right now, if you know what I mean.”

His ears steadily shifted forward, catching the slight unease in your tone. “Mm, it is perfectly fine.” Arthur struggled to stay those words, making him keep himself in check with the intense fire burning within his new form. “Do whatever you are comfortable with doing.”

Sliding from his lap, you took to your knees where the heat of your breath enticed his erection all the more. The organ tensed in your grasp the moment your tongue traced the head of it. It was a simple series of licks, which eventually escalated into you taking a bit into your mouth.

You suckled noisily, moving up and down at a steady pace while your hand did the rest.

The professor moaned vocally, the leg he was able to move without issue finding its way between your own legs. With caution, he moved one of his toes against your exposed clit—nearly making you choke on his cock.

“Careful.” The word was said rather teasingly. “I don't need you gagging all over me, my dear.”

Breaking the string of saliva that connected you both, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re far more sly than I give you credit for, professor.”

He rested his furry cheek against his knuckles in taunting thought. “Mm, is that so? You have a lot to learn about me then. It is quite easy to catch you off your guard is what I’m learning about you.”

The enormous claw rose once more, rubbing your swollen clit to where your grip upon his manhood tightened. 

Fuck me, you mentally moaned, almost going slack from the euphoria that crippled you. Possibly smelling how much you were enjoying yourself, the professor didn't let up. “F-Fine…! Fine!” you grumbled playfully, a bit of saliva trickling down the corner of your lips as you spoke. Removing yourself from your knees, you grabbed the base of his cock and urged the head of it to kiss the lips to your entrance. “If you’re going to play that kind of game…!”

Arthur raised a single brow at your desire to move that swiftly. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll… I’ll do what I can,” you stammered, a bit high from the euphoria that had you.

Pushing steadily down, you were nearly caught off guard by how much of a reaction the professor had.

His teeth bared, eyes shut tightly as his tail wagged with such intensity, you were hardly expecting it. Even the growl sounded almost predatory in nature.

But in truth, it had been so long since he had been with anybody.

Any human.

It made a part of him yearn so much for more that it was taking every ounce of himself to remain in control—to not let the beast take over.

“A-Are you okay…?!”

“Just fine,” Professor Layton responded, hissing out a low breath through his clenched fangs. His hands found their resting place on your hips, trying to escort you ever slowly upon his impressive size.

You arched your back, resting your hands on his thighs as you tried to see what you could even manage.

The veiny length caressed your throbbing walls, making the sounds of your connection fill the room. The lewd squelching noise echoed violently in the air the more you both continued, urging you into a state of obliviousness. You hadn't even realized how much of him you were able to even hold within your body.

You admittedly were too drunk on the act to even care to notice.

“I’m… I’m going insane…!” you panted, feeling as the knot in your stomach was swelling to its breaking point.

The professor’s claw was gentle as he stroked against your warm cheek to remind you without words you were more in control than himself.

“Then come for me,” he insisted in a low, intoxicated moan.

Hearing such a sweet and alluring command, you moved down on his throbbing manhood to where you knew you could take no more. Without even a word being uttered, you felt your walls quiver—soaking him without restraint.

Once again he grunted, hissing in unbridled delight at the wet warmth as it trickled down every inch of him, pooling upon the knot. Urging you back a bit, the professor gave you a lopsided smirk. “Ready for me?”

You nodded the best you were able.

The warmth of his release filled you to the point it pooled at your union before slipping down his impressive size to mar the fur upon Arthur’s thighs.

It was like a drug filling your veins with such intoxication you could hardly think of a moment you could be without it. Losing your ability to sit upright, you collapsed upon his chest, urging Professor Layton to embrace you in a comforting and loving manner.

“Are you alright?” he asked, the warmth of those words teasing your ear as he spoke them.

A simple question was enticing, and he wasn't even trying to be sexual.

“I’m… great,” you whispered, trying to return from your erotic high. “Next time I’ll be able to handle the knot… Maybe…”

He stifled a laugh, his massive chest rumbling against yours as he did so. “I am in no rush. All that matters is that I can trust you, just as I hope you know you can trust me.”

END

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[david3096]

I wrote a new fic Parksborn! It's kind of like a present to myself for my birthday which is today. You might be interested to read it in AO3 and I leave a preview below.

I don't know where to begin, Harry. So I am forcing myself to start, Maybe, this way I will find the words for everything I want to say to you. I'm writing this on paper, it's much more tiring but I feel it will have much more effect on my mind and my words.

I had a lot of time to plan this, to put in order everything I wanted to tell you, everything you make me feel, but just now when I think that in a few hours I will be in front of you and I will read this to you, I don't know where the hell to start.

I think the simplest and most sincere thing to do is to tell you that I love you. That's where I want to start. I love you and I will always love you, Harold. Even if you hate that name and even if you sometimes say I'm too cheesy to tell you so many times that I love you.

Do you remember the day we met? I know you'll probably think this is going too early, but I promise you it's important.

It was a day in August, I don't remember which one exactly but it was our first day of school, both fourteen year olds. Science class, I, as usual, arrived almost at the end, but because it was the first day of school I managed not to be late.

Some students were already seated at the lab tables, others were alone, I was going to walk to the last table in the room, the last thing I wanted was to be in front of everyone and draw attention.

As soon as I took my second step in the direction of the table, I turned my face a little and saw you. You were all dressed up, wearing a green sweater, formal pants and shoes that looked way more expensive than all the money I could make in my entire life. You were wearing a black hat that was quite out of place with your clothes and made you look much more rebellious and flashy. When our eyes met you smiled at me and with your hand you patted the chair next to you, inviting me to sit with you.

My first instinct was to ignore you, but there was something about you, in the way you smiled at me and your cheeks flushed a little. In how you had that good boy look but eyes and smile that seemed pure evil. Now, almost twelve years after that, I can understand that I sat next to you because I fell in love at first sight.

I hadn't even finished sitting down when you started filling me with questions, my name, my favorite band, my favorite weather, my favorite month. I answered every single one of your questions, I was surprised and laughed at the amount of words that could come out of your mouth. The bell rang and it wasn't long before Professor Harrington arrived.

The first thing he did was roll call and that's when it dawned on me that I didn't have the decency to ask you your name. You looked nervous, but tried to smile at me as I listened to each name and thought it was yours.

Then the teacher said Harold Osborn and I, like an idiot, turned to look around the room. Why on earth would the son of one of the city's most famous millionaires come to study at a public school? Surely he must be someone with amazing looks, expensive clothes and an arrogant countenance because he thought he owned the world.

You said here and I turned to look at you too quickly. You looked embarrassed and I couldn't say anything to you because the professor was literally in front of us.

Your smile disappeared completely and that cheerful, sweet and calm vibe that you transmitted to me was gone. At that moment I wanted to tell you so many things too, but I didn't know what. You had done nothing wrong, you just had the good or bad fortune to be born a millionaire.

Professor Harrington had us do some activities together, you didn't talk much, only what was necessary to finish the little experiment of the first day of school.

At the end of the class the professor told us that our table partner would be our partner for the rest of the year, so we had this week to decide. At that moment you looked at me again, this time with fear or caution and told me that I could change partners if I wanted to.

I looked at you, confused and told you that I wouldn't change lab partners because I was already partners with my best friend. You smiled again and I think you thought I was crazy for saying you were my best friend, but you looked happy again and that was all I cared about.

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

KAI - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"Ugh. Professor Est's assignment is so incredibly difficult. It's giving me a headache."

"Hey, you feeling okay? You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"

"Take a break today, it'll be fine."

"If you ever feel unwell, don't hesitate to rely on me."

"I'll make sure you recover properly."

"How's your health? Your body is your most valuable asset."

"If you feel any discomfort, let me know."

"Don't push yourself too hard. I'll heal everyone. Radiant light."

"Damn…I still have a lot to learn."

"We should make some medicine together later. I'll make sure to heal you properly."

"This is the first time Magia Seminar has ever had a Guild Keeper. If you ever run into any problems, just let me know.

"Leave injuries and illnesses to me."

"Don't neglect your efforts to stay healthy, okay?"

"You've really settled into the guild. Your support is great, I'm relying on you."

"Watching you makes me feel like I can't lose. It's seriously motivating…Keep up the good work!"

"The desire to help someone is the same for both doctors and Guild Keepers right? So many you and I will get along well."

"Between lectures and patient treatment, there's a mountain of things to do, but we can't afford to stop here."

"As long as you're here, I can chase my dreams without hesitation."

"Alright, let's start another day of medical care!"

"If you're not feeling well, it throws me off too. That's why I want you to let me nurse you back to health."

"Taking a leisurely stroll is good for your health. How about going for a walk today, Emma?"

"Ah, it's been a while since I took a walk! Let's have a good dinner tonight and get to bed early…"

"I've got quite a few piercings, you know. Even though I'm a doctor. Do you think it's a bit too flashy?"

"Did it hurt getting my piercings? Not at all."

"My piercings are like my good luck charms. I try not to lose them, but sometimes they vanish and it gets me all worried."

"Actually my little sister bought me these piercings. Pretty cool, right?"

"Could it be that you're thinking about getting a piercing too? If you do, make sure to disinfect properly."

"If you're scared, I can give you a piercing myself. I know how to make it painless."

"Hobbies, huh? That's a sudden one. Well, I enjoy going on little food adventures."

"I like hanging out with Ange. Even though she doesn't like me that much. At least I'm more liked than Sion, right?"

"I'm really into card games too. People often say it makes me childish, but what can I say, I like what I like."

"But you know, the best thing is when I'm learning with the others at Magia Seminar. Like when we decipher Sensei's cryptic lessons, or I mess around with Sion. It's a blast."

"Now that you're here, it's even more fun."

"It's kind of unsettling when someone's checking your pulse, right? Oh, wait, is that just me?"

"Your arm is pretty slender, isn't it? Are you eating properly? If I put too much pressure, it might just snap."

"You want me to check more? Is it that much fun for you? Haha, sometimes you act like a kid."

"Here, let me see your wrist. Huh? Did your pulse just speed up a bit? Why is that?"

"Your face is kinda red, too…Do you have a cold? Hmm…Doesn't seem like it."

"Doing this…It reminds me of the old n' days when I used to wander around aimlessly just for fun. Huh? Oh, I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Ah, I've been sitting in the clinic all day, so it feels nice to stretch my body. Alright, where are we heading today?"

"Huh? Is my hat a bit crooked? Weird. I thought I was wearing it like I always do. Anyway, thanks."

"Hats are pretty cool, right? They can hide bedhead in an instant, and, most importantly, they look stylish!"

"Whenever you reach up to fix my hat it's so cute. Haha."

"Heh, my bad. From now on, I'll squat down so you can fix my hat. Thanks."

"You know what, since we're talking about it, let's buy you a hat! We'll pick one out together!"

"Ah, thanks for the massage, you're a lifesaver, seriously. I've had a string of consultations lately, and I was getting really stiff and uncomfortable."

"Ah, your thumb is hitting just the right spot, right below the shoulder-blades."

"Whoa, that feels…Mmm…You're quite skilled, aren't you?"

"Your arm must be getting tired, right? Let's switch and I'll give you a massage. Just so you know, I'm really good at this."

"Damn, you're super tense. Been accumulating stress, huh? Even if you're busy, don't push yourself too hard."

"I've been relying on you for everything. I'll gladly give you a shoulder massage anytime. Just ask without hesitation, okay?"

"Thanks. Mmm…It's incredibly tasty! Want a taste of mine?"

"Hey, aren't you a bit too close? It's not that I dislike it, but well, it's just making me a bit nervous…"

"You must be tired. I can tell just by looking at your face. Don't push yourself, please."

"Being with you is a really soothing experience."

"Hey, what do you say we don't head home just yet? Let's take a detour."

"Sorry, I just don't feel like letting you go just yet. I'd like to spend a little more time alone together."

"You're quite assertive sometimes, you know? It's not that I mind, but…I can't help but worry about if you're this intimate with anyone other than me."

"Your hand is so soft…I didn't mean it that way!"

"You don't want to let go? That's a cute thing to say…Alright, let's keep walking hand in hand."

"Normally, I wouldn't let anyone touch my eyes, but with you it's perfectly fine. It's really strange, isn't it?"

"What's that? My eyes are beautiful? Aren't you going too far with that flattery?"

"I have dark circles under my eyes? Well, it doesn't bother me. Besides, even if I am tired, you're here to comfort me."

"Make sure you only show this side to me, okay? I don't want anyone else seeing you so defenseless."

"You know, being with you really lifts my spirits. I'd like to be your personal doctor. Haha, what am I even saying!"

"Wait, is this…A birthday present?! Even though you're so busy, you still made time to get me something? Oh man, I'm so happy I can't help but smile."

"Listen, Emma, a person only has two arms…Haha, I appreciate it, but really, it's too much."

Gift (Likes) : "Oh, I love this! My spirits just went through the roof! Thanks a bunch!"

Gift (Likes) : "Wait, you got this for me?! Woah! I'm honestly so happy about it. Um, how should I return the favor?"

Gift (Neutral) : "Oh, what's this? You got it for me? Thanks, I'll gladly take it!"

Gift (Dislikes) "Uh, well…You know, I was hoping for something a bit different. Did you maybe forget something?"

-

KAI : Hey, Oboro, there's a dried fruit mentioned in this book, but I'm having trouble with the drying process. Can you help me out?

OBORO : Before relying on others, did you make an effort to research it yourself? I won't lend my wisdom to a slacker like you.

-

KAI : I'll make sure I get a better score on the next assignment than you do…! Prepare yourself, Sion!

SION : You never get tired of saying that, do you? How about learning at least one magic circle while you're busy bickering with me?

-

KAI : Huh!? Est-sensei, you put chili peppers in the coffee again…? Consuming too many stimulants isn't good for you! It's not healthy!

EST : Actually, I feel much better with a little spice…Why don't you try it, Kai? If you get injured, let me know right away.

-

KAI : Don't slow me down, Sion!

SION : That's my line, you single-celled organism!

-

KAI : I'll heal you. So show them what you're made of.

OBORO : I'm not thrilled about this.

-

KAI : Hey Sion, you have a scratch. Let me heal it.

SION : Heal your own injuries first!