#AO3 next chapter

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[fluff-e-boy]

Me when that ao3 loading bar takes a little longer than usual

[erinwantstowrite]

fanfiction is incredible. right now i'm trying to write a character i know next to nothing about, for a single scene, and realizing i have no idea what's going on. who the fuck hangs out with zatanna? i don't fucking know. i'm gonna put together the most random line up of heroes for this mission because i can do what i want

[crispyliza]

The one benefit about ao3 being down is that it forces authors to focus on writing their own fics instead of procrastinating by reading others.

So everyone, be ready for mass updates tomorrow 👍

[frownyalfred]

do you ever just open an ao3 email and —

[myokk]

Eloise🥹💓

[starkspi]

these sketches are all inspired by @miribalis fanfiction "Managerial Liberties" where Adam stays at the hotel (spoiler - he is not happy and he is still stupid) [and please everyone who sees this post also has to read "Bedtime Rituals to Try out Before the Next Angelic War" so we can scream in each other's faces how INSANELY good both fanfictions are]

[chocolate-mallowmelt]

ao3 down?? on my bus ride?? my time dedicated to reading silly stories??

[kourota]

being a writer is just thinking that anything and everything is great writing material. people watching while you wait for your bus? writing material. experiencing something that's gonna scar you for life? writing material. getting chased by chickens and running for your life? writing material.

[sandwichsapphic]

is it a touch egotistical that the only thing i can draw through art block is my own au

anyway get mr-darcy’d

[fosermi]

On this ARK we sail together...

@stillafanofsonic enabled me and I RAN with it.

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

(un)dead beat dad (Chapter 1)

I hope you all suffer as much as my beta readers do, love you guys @justagaygoosehoard and @le-maidenless

and for those of you who wanted to be tagged, enjoy :) @starkcravingmad @terzatheunderscorerima @sunsetdew0101 @onyxlightdragon @ace-aro-agender @roseinbloom02 @aikoiya @blacksea21090 @the-legal-shipper @paperlicense687 @cursedchaosboys @corfinnsunrise @ascetic-orange @eonic @frostedthroughghost @readerkayden @reach-for-the-horizon @xno-more-smilesx @undead-essence @bluebeariis

edit: please ignore my misspellings im super sick :)

Danny spits blood onto the floor of the tower he was in, his hand pressed against the cuts in his chest, barely holding himself together. He cursed as he felt the ice melting around his chest and dripping to the floor. With a shaky breath, he froze it up again, not as thick this time though. Damn. Danny stood, using the wall to stabilize himself. Smearing his glowing green blood all over the wall. He stumbled up the stairs, spilling puddles of green throughout his walk. He got to the top and fell into the door, black impeding his vision as the large blue-skinned figure floated towards him. “Heya clocky,” Danny whispered with a wet chuckle as he lost consciousness fully, slumping to the floor in a pile of green blood as the white rings encompassed his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck” clockwork said out loud. Somehow, some way, he had not seen this reality. I mean, of course, he had seen the realities where the Fentons had reacted… badly… to say the least. And of course, he had seen the realities where Danny ventured into the ghost zone to find help, hell he had seen every single one and ancients did his heart ache at those. But this? Clockwork hadn’t seen a reality where Danny came to him. How had he not seen that? How had he glossed over that reality? Maybe if he went back through all of those again and tried another time, maybe he could see what he was supposed to do to stop this, maybe he could see what direction he was supposed to go, maybe he could see what he's supposed to do now-

A cough cut him out of his thinking. For once, time is the thing he didn’t have. He thought quickly, what was he supposed to do? He can’t take care of Danny himself, and Danny wont last much longer if he just stays here thinking but ancients what is he supposed to do…. Clockwork snaps his fingers and carefully picks Danny up in a bridal carry, careful not to upset the angry-looking Y-shaped wound on his chest bleeding through his torn medical scrubs. Clockwork waved his staff the best he could while holding Danny, making a portal, and floating through.

~~~~~~~~~

Gotham had been having a wonderful night. Her knights had taken down more than a few of her least favorite assholes, and, as a reward, she made the sky a bit more clear. She loved when those stars shone through her sky. Well, her night had been going well, until she felt a familiar portal open up behind her. 

“Ahhhh, my favorite stuck-up bastard. How's it going clockwork? Time treating you well?” She said in her sweet new-jersey accent; snickering and smiling at her pun, taking a drag of her cigarette. Holding the opera-length cigarette holder just past her lips, she blew out the smoke. She rested her other hand on her hip, her sparkling sangria-colored dress flowing over her plump hips. She turned around, her gorgeous crown of black corkscrew curls coming together in a beautiful afro, bouncing as she looked at clockwork. She took a moment to assess the bleeding boy in his arms before looking clockwork in his ruby eyes. “Clockwork, love, what the fuck.”

Clockwork sighed and floated toward Gotham. “This boy… This is the king. He was attacked in his own home by his guardians. He came to me but… but I've never seen this timeline. I wasn’t sure what to do with the boy, but I knew you had knights that could protect him.” Clockwork stared down at the boy in his arms. Gotham took a moment to digest the new information.

“The king, his majesty phantom, is this boy?” Gotham asked, disbelief clear in her voice, Clockwork only nodded and held out the boy to Gotham. 

“Yes, he is. I don’t have anyone else to bring him to. I’ll make this easier on you, as thanks.” Clockwork said, handing Danny to Gotham. Gotham flicked the cigarette and its holder out of existence, her feathered boa tickling the boy now in her arms.

“A bit scrawny, is he not?” She smiled lovingly down at the boy king. Clockwork smiled at the two and brought his hand to Dannys' head, a deep blue glow found its way between his hand and the boy king. Gotham stared in wonder as Danny shrunk in her arms. She looked at Clockwork in disbelief for a moment. “Clockwork, I usually do not question your ways, but what are you doing this for?”

“All as it should be. Good luck Danny.” Clockwork smiled and patted the small boys black hair, though it was caked in blood.

Gotham looked down at the boy in her arms, “Daniel. A name fit for a king. Now, I know exactly which of my knights to bring you to. No need to worry your highness, He will take care of you as none else have.” She turned her head to where clockwork was with a thank you on her lips, seeing he already left. She huffed in annoyance and turned towards the streets of her city, she knows exactly where her knight is.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason was having one hell of a night. I mean, the muggings, a robbery, and the riddler? A great night, really. Well, his patrol was finally over, so he crawled through the fire escape to his house and stilled at the chill in the air. Someone else was in his apartment. Jason swung his arm around, pistol cocked and ready to fire, pointing at…. Nothing? A huff of laughter came from the too-dark shadows in the corners of his living room. A tall woman with deep ebony skin sashayed her way from the shadows, a gorgeous dress hugging her thick curves in all the best ways. She smiled at Jason and held the boy in her arms higher, so Jason could see him.

“My knight. I have a request of you, a friend of mine has placed this boy in my care, but I know nothing of raising children.” Jason tried to cut her off with a ‘you think I know jack-shit about kids either???’ but she shushed him with a wave of her hand as she laid the small boy on his beat-up couch. “Of all of my knights, I have deemed you to be the most well-suited to take on this task. This is Daniel, High King of the Infinite Realms. Though he looks younger than he truly is, do not underestimate him. He needs medical attention and someplace to call home. You, Jason, are the best and only option for this task.” Jason stood there dumbfounded. Who the fuck does this lady think she is? Coming out of nowhere giving him a kid and talking to him as if she knew him? And she knows his secret identity! 

Jason went to say something but found no words on his tongue as the woman before him dissolved into smoke before his eyes, leaving a bloody kid on his couch. Jason sighed and took off his mask, leaving only his domino. “Well, fuck me I guess” He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and took off his jacket. Who on earth was that? And how did she disappear like that? How on earth did she get into his apartment? Why did she leave a bloody kid- oh fuck the kid-

Jason stopped what he was doing and stared at the bloody kid on his couch. The kid looked bout six, if he had to guess, but was far too skinny for a healthy six-year-old. Jason paced over silently and let his eyes wander over the small boy. Jason breathed out a small ‘fuck’ and bent down to where the kid's eyes were and tapped his shoulder… nothing. He tapped again and a small groan escaped the boy, huh. Jason gently shook the boy and watched as the small boy's eyes fluttered open to reveal an icy blue. The kid took a moment to adjust, as he glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Jason. Immediately, the boy jumped up, falling over the backside of the couch with a loud thump, scooting to the wall behind him. Well… that wasn’t, exactly what Jason was expecting. Loud heaving breaths were heard behind the couch and jason crawled around, to peak at the boy. As soon as his eyes found the kid, his breath hitched in his throat. That's a lot of blood.

“Hey bud,” Jason started softly, “your names Danny, right?” He asked. Jason tried to scoot closer but when the bleeding boy in front of him moved he stopped. The boy Danny glanced over Jason, taking a minute to observe him before deeming Jason safe, nodding his head yes.

“Well, I’m Red Hood, nice to meet you. A friend of yours dropped you off with me, said you're a king or something?” Jason said slowly, lowering himself to sitting criss-cross on the floor. Danny blushed heavily in front of Jason. 

“They… they said that?” Danny said, his voice squeaking out. Danny looked confused for a second and quickly glanced down at his body, ‘he's so small’ Jason thought. Apparently, Danny thought the same as he looked at his body in confusion flipping his hands over in front of his eyes. Jason moved again snapping the boys’ attention back to him.

“So, Danny, Your friend said that you needed some help and that I could help you out. If you trust this friend, I’ll trust them too. You don’t have to trust me right away, but know I’ll help you out the best I can, okay? Sound good?” Jason said, turning his palms flat up to show he wasn’t a threat. Danny took a second to think about it and nodded his head again, slowly, but hey a yes is a yes.

“Alright, kid, we need to get you patched up, I have a friend who can get you fixed right up-” Jason was cut off by the boy frantically shaking his head

“oookay, uh, no hospitals?” Jason guessed. 

A slow nod. 

“My friend’s clinic?” 

A shake.

“Well, I can't do it myself…” Jason smiled in realization “What about my grandpa? He patches me up when I’m out on patrol, that sound good kid?”

There was a moment of silence. Jason was thinking he might have to just call Alfred at this point when the kid hesitantly nodded. Jason let out a sigh. “Alright kid, I’m gonna have to carry you there, okay? “ another nod. Jason scolded over and carefully scooped Danny up in his arms and walked over to his still-open window and crawled out.

“I’ll be as careful as I can, alright? Let me know if anything hurts.” Danny nodded again and Jason carefully hopped off his fire escape, he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter 2

[lizardboiii]

ANGER MANAGEMENT┃R. Sukuna

[Possessive!Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

・❥・

│Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

・❥・

│cw: 18+, NSFW, violence, vulgar language, terrible humor

│w/c: 3.2k

│chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

│notes: NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

・❥・

│Chapter I : IRATE

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

The pinkette moved to slam his front door shut before you caught the painted wood with your hand. Its pristine white coating had already started to chip away on the side where, like many other nights, you’ve managed to catch the door and pry it open.

You snarled at his annoyed expression, “I’m not finished yet, Pinkiepie lookin’ freak.”

The vein in his jaw pulsated as he looked down on your smaller figure in disgust, “Piss off, rat. I didn’t steal your fucking package.”

Your grip on his door tightened. The familiar feeling of hot burning rage once again coursed through your bones, “IT’S ONLY ME AND YOU ON THIS FLOOR, DUMBASS!”

He let out his own frustrated growl as he swung his door back open, almost knocking you off balance, “I DIDN'T STEAL SHIT FROM YOU, WOMAN!” 

The world felt like it slowed down for a moment. The feeling of your bottled rage finally reaching its limit. From the tips of your toes to the top of your forehead, you could feel the urge to punch, kick, and scream. A calling to let loose all your feelings you held inside.

Now normally this is where you’d remember your anger management lessons. Countdown from ten to zero, take deep breaths, and blah blah blah. 

But no. Ever since your fuckhead neighbor moved in next door your rage has been through the roof. From his overly obnoxious music taste, to his various romantic partners, you couldn’t catch a break. So, what if you let loose a bit?

Your fist swung before you could even think about the consequences of your actions. Sure, you’ve gotten into plenty of arguments with your new neighbor. But never once have you raised a hand.

The satisfying thump of a head recoiling against an open door made your heart race. The feeling to continue on, to fight, to destroy was overwhelming. Alas, no feeling could ever beat seeing the stunned face of a man who just took a punch to the face.

Swiping the blood from his nose, he glared at you with new vigor, “What the fuck?”

Another swing, this time your hand was swiftly captured in a brawny fist. You clenched your teeth in pain as he squeezed your smaller hand excruciatingly tight, his other hand capturing your shirt's collar.

You struggled against his holds, brow twitching in agitation, “Where the fuck is it?”

The scent of mint flooded your senses as he pulled your collar closer to his face, “I don’t have your goddamn package. Now give me one reason why I shouldn’t paint the floor with you right now?”

You tore your hand away from his weakening hold and flipped him off, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Brother?”

Surprised, you both turned to another, much smaller, pinkette. An almost identical copy of the asshole still clutching your shirt. Though, this one was a lot easier to get along with.

The larger man sighed deeply above you before letting you go, “Yuuji, why are you here so late?”

You grunted as he harshly shoved you back. Shooting your arm out, you caught yourself on the doors frame. Cocky fucker. Grinding your teeth together, you decided to spare your shit neighbor because of one reason only.

“Hey, Yuuji. How’s university?”

You could feel a dark stare on the side of your head, relentless and unwavering. Yuuji smiled brightly at you as he came closer to the door.

“Great! Professor Gojo totally let us slack off all day today!”

You threw a smug smirk at the man still glaring daggers at your head. How’s it feel to be ignored?

As if hearing your question his grip tightened on his crossed arms.

“Megumi, Nobara, and I went out for ice cream after class too. I didn’t think it’d take this long though,” Yuuji scratched the back of his head embarrassed.

You smiled at his shy form only to stop yourself when you noticed the man standing next to you smiling as well. Bastard. What the hell is he enjoying life for?

“I see. Alright, come on I made dinner,” his eyes trailed from Yuuji to you, “for two.”

You rolled your eyes at his hostility. Like you’d want to eat his food anyway. Knowing him it probably tastes like shit.

Not sparing a second glance at him, you waved goodbye to Yuuji and strolled back to your humble abode. A satisfying conclusion until you realized you never got your damned package.

・❥・

“I told you already, Mom. I’ve been getting better. I think my lessons are finally starting to work.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? You know if it ever gets too much again you can always come back home.”

You sighed heavily at your mother’s worried tone, “I’m very sure, mom. I mean come on, I just have one more day until my one month without an outburst!”

Your mother laughed slightly on the phone, but the thick layer of concern was still evident. Quickly dismissing any more of her anxiety, you wished her goodnight.

Shoving your cracked phone into your pocket, you hit the fourth floor button on your apartment complex’s elevator. With a quiet hum, the metal box slowly took you up to your floor.

The fourth floor was nice to live on. It was practically a penthouse. The reason being because you were its only occupant. Although, there was no sound reason for the building's vacancy, you just assumed no one in the area wanted to live in a second rate apartment. Especially when power outages were frequent.

That didn’t really concern you though. You had a home with zero people around. Not something you’d complain about.

Stepping into the outdated hallway, you took a deep breath of the stale air. Cracking a knuckle here, popping a joint there, you made your way to your lone room near the end of the hallway.

Automatically, your brows furrowed at the sight of large boxes decorating the floor around your door and the one next to it. You didn’t order anything.

Not so calmly making your way over to the mysterious boxes, you frowned as you realized the next door apartment’s door ajar. Neighbors?

A twinge of annoyance shot through your body before you quickly extinguished it. You thought back to the group lesson of today. The main focus was on allowing yourself to hear people out. Understand another person’s reasoning before you flip your shit. Having a ‘civilized’ conversation.

While someone moving in isn’t really what the lesson had been meant for, you figured you’d might as well give it a shot. Another step forward if you will.

Preparing yourself, you maneuvered around the scattered boxes in front of your new neighbor’s door. With a determined fist you knocked on the familiar white wood that matched your own. 

Movement could be heard coming from behind the door, yet there was no answer. Your jaw twitched as you knocked again causing whoever was moving to curse.

Just as you were about to knock again, the door violently flung open revealing a disheveled man. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have to pick your jaw up off the floor. 

The tall man loomed over your form threateningly. It was clear as day that you only reached the tops of his collar bones. An observation you confirmed after noticing the man’s lack of a shirt.

Speaking of which, you had to pick your jaw up again at the sight of a chiseled body. Saying he had the body of a god was no understatement. You could grate cheese on those abs. Even more striking were the strange black tattoos that marked his skin. You traced the thick black lines that covered his chest with your eyes. They only aided in the dark and mysterious vibe to him.

Begrudgingly moving your eyes up to his face allowed for a third drop of the jaw. Similar tattoos to his chest and arms only accentuated the sharp cut of his jaw. His eyes were a piercing deep red which matched perfectly with his surprisingly pink dusted hair. Did a Greek god just move upstairs next to you?

“Are you done checking me out yet?”

You felt your face burn as you glared at him, “I wasn’t ‘checking’ you out.”

A dangerous smirk pulled on his lips, “Listen, woman. I don’t have all day to play around with you. Get to the point.”

You felt a familiar rage spark in the pit of your stomach. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you threw him an exaggerated smile.

“I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself to my new neighbor,” you lifted your hand out in front of you for a handshake, “I’m (y/n) (l/n), I hope we can get along.” 

The man scoffed at you in amusement before taking your hand in his roughly, “Sukuna.”

The handshake was quick but firm enough for you to rub your hand after in soreness. The familiar twang of anger once again rose before you quelled it.

You clenched your fists, eager to just go back into your apartment, “I was wondering if there was anything I can help you with? With you being the new and only neighbor and all.”

You begged him in your head to say no. You weren’t sure if you could continue this ‘civil’ conversation for much longer.

“Sure,” you swallowed hard as he leaned against the door frame, “Do you know anyone decent enough to fuck around here or are there only women around here that look like you?”

You felt a cord snap, “What the fuck did you just say?”

A flash behind his eyes showed the clear amusement he was getting from your new attitude, “I said, is there anyone half decent enough to fuck around here or are there only noisy little pigs in this building?” 

You growled at his arrogance, “You’re one to talk, pretty boy. Do you normally piss off everyone you talk to?”

His smirk deepened, “Of course. Did you think you were special?”

Like a leaf in the wind your thirty day chip flew away from you. Bye bye progress. Back to the start you go~

White hot rage filled your senses as you poked a finger into his exposed chest, “YOU WANNA GO, ASSHOLE? THE FUCKS YOUR PROBLEM?”

Amusement slowly formed into irritation as he slapped your hand away, “You're even loud like a pig.”

You snarled at him, “Listen here you piece of shit, at least I don’t look like I crawled out of a fucking kids cartoon with that stupid ass hair color.”

Pissed, Sukuna stood to his full height and crossed his arms, “Watch your mouth, dwarf.”

You craned your neck up and shot daggers at him, “Watch your own mouth, motherfucker! God to think I was trying to be a helpful neighbor and see if you needed anything!”

“Helpful neighbor my ass. All you’ve done so far is yell at me in my own home.”

“We’re in the hallway, dumbass!”

Sukuna backed up and rubbed his brow, “I don’t have time to deal with a little kid's temper tantrum.”

As he slammed the door in your face, you caught the closing door by the edge, “I’m not a goddamn kid!”

Sukuna shoved the door closed harder “Then don’t act like one, bitch.”

Eventually his strength overpowered your grip and he flung the door shut. The sound echoed tauntingly throughout the hallway leaving you with your own thoughts.

You looked at your hands disappointed and sighed. Looks like you’ll need to wait another month, but with that asshole next door you weren’t sure if you could make a day anymore.

Greek god your ass, more like a curse.

・❥・

It’s been a month since your dear neighbor Sukuna moved in, and without fail you two have argued in that hallway everyday. Today was no different, though maybe you took it too far by punching him.

You groaned and rolled around on your bed. You felt bad but no way in hell were you apologizing. Burying your head in a pillow you screamed into it. Why was that prick such an asshole??

Sitting up in your bed you hit your pillow repeatedly against your worn mattress. All this stress and worry was making you antsy. After jumping the poor pillow, you threw it against your wall harshly. The pillow hit the plaster with a soft thump before making its way to the floor. You growled in annoyance at the wall your pillow hit.

That very wall was connected to what you assumed was Sukuna’s room. With the amount of noise that came from it every night it had to be. 

Though the first few nights he moved in it was quiet, after a week the noise of various rock bands leaking into your room made you bang on the wall in anger. Though you figured this only fueled the desire to infuriate you as he turned it up even louder.

Another contender for why you figured his room was next to yours was the fact you had to sit through multiple nights of him railing the shit out of some poor girls. The first night it happened you remembered blindly walking over to his door and slamming your fists against the wood. 

・❥・

“Rick, I'm in love with you!”

“My dear Isabella, I can not reciprocate. For I have already fallen in love!”

“With whom, my love??? That skank Isabell!?”

“No, it is… Steffanie.”

“YOUR HAMSTER?!”

You snorted at your daytime tv while shoveling popcorn into your mouth. Your friend had been right about this channel. It really was absolute nonsense.

You watched as the woman on the screen fainted into her former lover's arms. Wow. Imagine being left for a hamster. Shifting in your seat you paused when you heard a faint noise.

Turning down your television volume you waited. Nothing. Huh, maybe you needed to get your ears checked-

“Ngh~”

The popcorn situated in your mouth fell onto your bed silently. What the fuck?

“Harder!”

Now that's where you couldn’t pretend anymore. Was your new neighbor fucking someone right now? At 10am? On a Sunday??

Your question was quickly answered by louder and whinier moans. Listening closely, you could just barely register the deep grunts of a certain bastard neighbor.

Oh hell no. You were not about to sit here and listen to some fuck fest. Abandoning your comfy bed, you stormed out of your room and over to a familiar door. 

Seething with rage, you pounded against the door harshly. The wood shook and rattled at the strength used against it. You growled at the silence behind the door and knocked louder.

“OPEN UP, FUCKHEAD!”

The door finally ripped open revealing an aggravated Sukuna, “What the fuck do you want?”

Your eyes widened as you took a moment to take in his appearance. Pink hair laid messily against his forehead, an unusual look compared to his normal gelled up style. Though most concerningly, he wore no clothes other than a thin white sheet lifted up to cover his manhood.

Trying to conceal your blush, you fumed at him, “Keep it the hell down! I can hear the goddam thrusting.”

Sukuna’s face twisted into a grin, “Jealous your dried up ass gets no action?”

You slammed your fist against the hallways wall, “At this rate I don’t need any action when I feels like I’m in a fucking threesome.”

You shivered at the deep chuckle he let out. You watched as his eyes trailed your form, feeling exposed to his watchful stare. The action made you regret not throwing anything over your tank top and shorts.

“Threesome?” He licked his lips when he returned his gaze to your eyes, “I can arrange that if you're begging for it.”

A shift of the sheet caught your attention. Sukuna lowered the thin fabric allowing for more skin to show. You felt your face burn. So the carpet does match the drapes. 

You flinched at his mocking chuckle, “Though I’m kinda busy right now, mind coming back later?”

You let out a frustrated yell and thundered off, “J-JUST KEEP IT DOWN!”

Laughter followed you as you slammed your door shut and slid down the cool wood. Fuck.

・❥・

Shaking yourself out of the embarrassing memory you glared at the wall spitefully. Boiling in rage you threw your remote against the drywall. Piece of shit. 

A harsh knock back from the other side made you clench your fists. So now he wants to complain? You went to put your hand through the drywall and yank a kicking and screaming Sukuna through before you heard a grunt.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You swear to god if you have to sit through another bang session you would really get violent. Pausing for a moment, you waited to hear the usual high pitched sounds that came from his pick of the night. Nada. Slowly you crawled across your bed and pressed an ear against the wall.

Now, don’t get yourself wrong. You were not a creep in any way shape or form. Plus, this didn’t even count if it’s your wall right? You were just trying to figure out what he was doing. As a nice neighbor would.

A hushed groan made you flinch away from the wall before returning. Resting a hand against the wall, you felt your heartbeat pick up as your ears adjusted to the quiet noises. Was he-

A strained sigh confirmed your thoughts. You bit your lip as you leaned into the wall further. His sounds almost encouraged you to listen on. Against your will, the familiar feeling of heat between your legs rose. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get a hold of yourself.

You should stop. You should get up and leave the room. Even if you hate the bastard you're still invading his privacy. So why are you staying? 

A drawn out hiss pulled you back in. Like an incubus he drew you to him. Your hand slowly started tracing down your abdomen. Have you always felt this way? There’s always been tension but you’d always figured it was just to piss you off.

You shuddered as your hand crept its way under your waist band. You hesitated for a moment. Was this morally right? A rough curse from the thin wall wound you up again. Fuck, how could someone’s voice do this to you?

Shyly, you pressed a curious finger against your wet slit, dragging up against your heat to your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath as you started to rub timid circles against your bud.

Sukuna’s deep groans slowly became more aggressive, sending another throb to your lower half. You bit your wrist in an attempt to contain the needy moans that managed to escape. Quickly, your movements became more and more erratic as you chased your high. 

Eventually, Sukuna’s moans died out without you realizing. You were too focused on the pleasure you were indulging yourself in. You bit your wrist harder, drawing blood, as your hips grinded themselves onto your fingers. The thickness of your wrist barely contained your ragged breathing as you finally reached your peak.

Mouth agape, the cord in your stomach snapped as stars flashed in your eyes. Your fingers moved by themselves, helping you extend your high for even longer.

With a final gasp you leaned against the wall and pulled your hand out of your bottoms. The clear substance that coated them looked back at you with mockery. What the hell do you just do?

・❥・

[erinwantstowrite]

writing the scene where dick and peter talk about the glitching and why he kept the "haunting" a secret is going to be so therapeutic

[yoinkschief]

IT'S FINALLY HERE !!! <3

Strip/Mafia, Chapter 1 "Cover Page" + Chapter 0/Prologue "Midnite"

Chapter Art:

[plush-rabbit]

Simmering and Smothering

Part 2 to It’s Always Coffee

Word Count: 7K

A/N: I’m soft for this guy rn. He’s so !!! Anyways, I um don’t know what else to say

- You stand with a group of people, a lanyard hangs from your neck, and you pinch at the plastic cover that holds a card reading “Visitor” stuck on it. People part of the group peek through windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the wonders behind the glass. You're sure at some point you saw Dr. Ohnn standing close to a coworker. He must have felt your gaze, because he looked up and you had to fist your hand to restrain yourself from waving at him. But when the scientist beside him puts their hand on his back, returning his attention to the project in front, you find yourself digging your nails into the flesh of your palms.

You look around, but nothing catches your eye as it should at Alchemax. While you knew that they wouldn’t show a tour group all the dark and gritty experiments, a part of you wishes that you were able to slip away to explore, but any chances of that were snuffed out with a warning at being kicked out and banned should you stray. However, you do enjoy getting to step foot into the building. The group is led through glass doors, and you hear a few people sigh in relief. Walking in, windows line the room and let in a nice glow of sun. 

“Okay,” Dr. Octavius says with a clap of her hands, “this is the cafeteria where we will be having lunch. Those tables over there-” she points over to a cluster of tables that have been protected with stanchions- “will be where you all will be eating. Lunch is one hour, and if anyone needs to go to the restroom, please contact a security guard.” Her gaze is friendly, smile wide and tone with the slightest hint of superiority, she speaks to all, before her gaze lands on you, her smile falling ever-so-slightly. “If you fail to inform a guard, and are caught wandering, you will be immediately removed from the premises.” Smiling, you give her an “okay” symbol, and in response, she looks away from you. “Okay!” She chirps, taking a step to the side, she sweeps her arms towards the selection of food. “Enjoy your lunch.”

You’re at a cart, holding a tray consisting of fruits, and a bottle of juice. You peer over the selection of bread, holding a saran wrapped bagel. You pull your mouth into a line, wanting to put it back, but unsure if that’s okay to do so. Sure, it’s saran wrapped, but what if it’s not okay to place things back. You’ve already picked it up, and with a sigh, you place it on your tray. You look over the rest of the selection of the grains, and perk up at the sight of a muffin. Happily, you reach to grab at it before your wrist is grabbed at.

“Hey-” You bark out, pulling your hand out of the grasp and turning to look at whoever it was that clutched your wrist. You stop short when you realize that it’s Dr. Ohnn. “I feel like we talked about appropriate ways to greet others,” you muse, grabbing at the saran wrapped muffin. 

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, and you frown. 

Your eyes scan his face, and you fold the tray closer to you. “You’re upset,” you conclude, tilting your head with furrowed brows. 

“Of course I am,” he hisses. Your ears begin to burn, and you look around the cafeteria, many of the patrons sitting down and ignoring you- including the tour group you are a part of. When you look back at him, he continues. “Why are you here?”

“I’m part of the tour.” You jerk your head over where your tour members sit behind the stanchions. “Fisk was promoting it- something to show off Alchemax and how family-friendly it is. But if you ask me, I think it’s just a cover to stop people from asking-”

“I don’t care,” he rushes. 

You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay, you don't have to be rude.” His eyes widen, and his shoulders rise. He opens his mouth, but you press forward. “Listen, I paid my way in, okay? If you’re upset with it, then I don’t know what to tell you.” He stays silent and you look back to your group. Turning back to him, you start. “Is that all, Dr. Ohnn? May I go sit down, or do you want to continue reprimanding me?”

He opens and closes his mouth, and when you turn on your heel, he calls your name. You turn to him with a waiting look. “I apologize.” You encourage him with a nod of your head. “I just-” he looks around, and grabs your wrist, pulling you to another station of food, grabbing a tray, and standing in front of the selection of fruits. 

“You just?”

“I hadn’t thought that you would be here. I-” with his middle finger, he pushes up his glasses by the bridge- “I wasn’t aware there was a tour going on.”

“Does that matter?” You ask, grabbing at a cup of peeled mandarins. 

“Scientists are usually the one to lead groups,” he says quietly, "due to the fact that it is our projects we are showcasing. We all take turns with it given that leading groups take time away from our projects. This should have been a group that I would have led. Dr. Octavius must have seen your name on the roster and decided to lead it for the day.” He gives you a look. “I’m surprised that she let you in.”

“I paid,” you shrug. “She isn’t happy about it or anything, but-” you end it with a shrug. “Anyways, I won’t bother your lunch or anything. I’m simply here to see the building and enjoy lunch.” You give him a smile as you lift up your tray. “Have a good day Dr. Ohnn.” You nod your head, ready to walk away before he stops you.

“Do you have to sit down with the others?” You turn to him, and look at him quizzically. “We um- We never finished our conversation from the other day.”

You tighten your grip on the tray. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “You kinda left without exchanging numbers. But I don’t think I’m allowed to sit elsewhere.” You look back at your group. “I’d invite you to sit with me, but I’m not sure if I could give you quite a riveting conversation as your work buddies.”

“You can. You have,” he says so, without any hesitation. “Our last conversation was entertaining.” 

"You think so?" 

He opens his mouth, before being interrupted by someone calling his name. "Jonathan," calls someone far too cheery from the door. A few heads turn to watch as another scientist- you think that they look familiar- and turn back around once the scientist enters the cafeteria. They turn on their heel to wave at another and it clicks- it's the scientist that touched his back.

You look back to the doctor, giving him a raised look. He has a sort of flush that colors in his face, and you purse your lips together. 

The scientist walks toward the both of you, but their attention is solely on Jonathan. "Jonathan-" they say his name with a sickly sweet tone- "I thought you were going to wait for me so we can have lunch together." They smile brightly at the other and you watch as they reach over to squeeze at his bicep. "You hadn't forgotten, had you?"

"My apologies, Dr. Owens." You don't miss the way that he refers to the scientist by their last name while they refer to him by his first. A frown tugs at corner of your lips- they refer to him by his first name. You glance between the two and a pit settles in your stomach. "I hadn't forgotten, but I got distracted. It must have slipped my mind."

"You don't normally get distracted," they note, and their eyes dart at you. With the consequence of being acknowledged, you smile at them. "Ah. Part of the tour group, huh? No wonder you bothered our precious doctor." They're far too sweet with their words, it makes you uncomfortable. You open your mouth to apologize, but they continue on. “I was wondering if we could get the chance to go over our notes?” You feel as if you're in the middle of something. Standing besides Dr. Owens, you feel unsure of yourself. You clear your throat. They turn to you, and their smile is beaming. “Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt. While I’m sure Dr. Ohnn would love to engage with others about theories and his work, I do have to steal him away from you.” Their smile turns gentle, and you feel silly standing between them. “Sorry,” they apologize with a smile. 

"Uh, yeah." You grit your teeth- that came out less eloquently than you would liked. "Sorry, Dr. Ohnn." You tap your heel against the ground. “I’ll leave you to it.”

"Oh- Um-” he looks at you, and you smile at him, shrugging your shoulders. He returns his look towards the other scientist, and you let your gaze drift down. You walk away, catching only a glimpse of their conversation. “What would you like to discuss?”

Sitting down at a designated table, the other tour members greet you. You smile and pick at your bagel, taking small bites, regretting not getting some kind of topping. You bite at your muffin, nodding along as the other group members talk about the experiments going on at the building. 

It would make sense for him to have a partner. He's attractive, and has a good job. With the one conversation that you've had with him, he was well spoken. You eat your mandarins, letting the citrus fill your mouth. Dr. Owens isn’t unattractive and they certainly seemed nice. You do your best not to look at the doctor and his partner, keeping your head down as you listen to the other people in your group. 

You know why you feel so bothered by it all. It’s dumb. You only had one actual conversation with him, but it was nice. He was nice- much nicer than you had ever given him credit for. You feel silly over being jealous of a man you only knew for a minute. 

-

"Fuckin' driver," you mutter under your breath, your lips curled in disgust. Fixing yourself, you cross your arms and decide to walk to the train station. It's incredibly late and something that you actively avoid doing, but you don't want to risk yourself with another driver. "Now I gotta walk." 

A part of you pays with the idea of putting in your headphones and at least having a calming walk, but you shake your head at that idea. You will not be murdered just because you wanted to listen to music. 

Headlights flash by and you bite the inside of your mouth every time. A car passes by, and you watch as the red tail lights blink on. You stop in your steps, taking a look around. No one else on the sidewalk acknowledges the car. 

“Okay”, you think to yourself, “I can't get abducted in front of other people.” You take a step forward and pause. “That's dumb. Yes, I can.” You scowl and tap your foot against the pavement, holding tighter onto the strap of your bag. 

However, no one else seems fazed by a car pulling over, and that gives you confidence to walk further. At the end of the car, you see the passenger window roll down. You hesitate again. Sucking in a breath, you roll your wrists, and as you walk past the car until you hear your name being called. 

You turn, and through the windshield, you see a familiar doctor waving at you. Looking around, you clutch onto the trap of your bag before making your way towards him.

"Dr. Ohnn?" 

He smiles nervously. He looks far too tense for someone in their own car. "Hello," he calls you by your name. "I was sure you would have left ages ago."

"Tour ran late- one of the kids explored without permission," you explain. 

"I'm surprised it wasn't you." You weren't aware he could tease. 

"I wasn't in the mood for any trespassing charges. Maybe tomorrow." You shrug, and send him a grin. “Who knows? Night’s still young and all.”

He turns his head, and you follow his gaze out onto the street before the both of you. "Why are you walking?"

“People had their own rides, and I didn't. I took the bus. After the whole fiasco, I missed it. I got into a taxi, but uh-" you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest- "the driver was being too sleazy for my tastes so I decided to take my chances walking.” 

“Oh- I’m sorry to hear about that.” He leans over the middle console of the car, with his hand pressed down on the passenger seat. “It’s quite late,” he tells you.

Your lips stretch into a thin grin. “Correct. It’s no wonder that you’re one of the top scientists at Alchemax.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans.

“I try,” you tell him. The soft glow of the streetlamps casts him in a warm glow. “But I'd be more inclined to believe you if you were actually laughing.”

“Yes, well, I’ll try to laugh next time.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile sharply at him. 

“Is that why you stopped? To hear my humor?” You tease, taking a step forward, and he tilts his head to look at you. 

“No, actually. I thought it was you,  and I wanted to know if you would like a ride?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh! Um- No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” you correct yourself. You turn looking down the street where the crowd of people slows. You look back at him. “I’m sure you have your own plans for the night. I wouldn’t want to intrude or interrupt or anything.” You twist the strap of your bag in your hand. “While I appreciate the offer, you don’t have to worry about me Dr. Ohnn.”

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. I don’t have any plans.” 

You stay silent, weighing your options in your head. While you’d like to be in a car and taken to your home, you also can’t just enter his car. Even if he is the one offering. No. You can’t. There has to be a line. You have a crush on him- maybe. You’re attracted to him. Wait, that’s actually worse. You shake your head.

“I shouldn’t.” You bite your bottom lip and look at the air freshener that hangs down the rearview mirror. “I would want to get you into any sorts of trouble.”

“Trouble?” He says in a quiet voice, but alarm is still laced into his words. 

“You know-” you wave your hand in front of you- “with Dr. Owens. Would they be okay with you giving me a ride?”

He gives you an incredulous look. “What does Dr. Owens have to do with this?”

Your chest begins to burn, and it travels upwards to your face. “Would they appreciate you giving a ride to a stranger?” 

“You aren’t a stranger,” the way that he calls your name has your breath hitching, and heart racing. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you walking so far to a station at night.”

“Okay,” you shrug. “But you have to put in the directions on your phone. I’m easily distracted and won’t be able to give you any good directions.”

“Fine by me,” he pulls away and the door unlocks. You open the door, and the window slowly raises. “Between you and I, I’m not entirely great with navigation.” The noise from the outside mutes as you close the door, the lock clicking down on itself.  You click the seatbelt as you give him a look. “I get lost easily,” he admits. He grabs his phone and sorts through his applications, finally passing it your way with the map function on display.

“Don’t you have a PhD?” You enter your address, and return the phone, watching as he places the phone on the holder stuck to the car. 

“Doesn’t mean a thing if a shopping center has me turned all sorts of ways,” he admits, setting the car to ‘drive’ and pulling away from the sidewalk. You laugh, it starts as a snort, and forms into a chuckle and it has you hiding your smile behind your hand, trying to quell the laughter. 

You turn to look at him, the corner of your lips tilting upwards and wrinkling at your eyes. “I don’t even think I could picture you getting lost in a mall.”

He sits up straighter, and casts a glance through the corner of his eye. “It isn’t a particularly good image of me,” he confesses.

Humming, you lean back into the seat, fixing your bag onto your lap, playing with the zipper. “No, I’m sure it is,” you hum. “A renowned scientist, lost at a mall.”

“It can be quite traumatizing.”

“I’m sure it can be,” you muse, trying to hide the smile that slowly grows. "Many children often fear the mall for that same reason." 

He scoffs at your remark. “Did you learn anything interesting on the tour?” He asks, and you cross your ankles.

“I think we learned about atoms?” He chuckles at that, and you feel warm. “I gotta be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more, ya know?” 

“Atoms aren't enough?” 

"Not nearly,” you tell him softly. “Maybe if they brought out some secret project or like showed some sort of light show, then I’d be impressed.”

“Oh, of course,” he says with sarcasm laced into his words. “A secret project shown to the masses, especially where one child had gone missing.”

“Explored,” you correct, turning our head to look at him.

The GPS voice speaks, and he misses a turn. He mumbles an apology, the application already rerouting him. “If you join another one, I’ll make sure that there’s a light show.” He casts a glance, and misses another turn, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “I’m thirsty,” he tells you.

You blink at him. “You can stop somewhere and get something. I don’t mind waiting in the car.” The metal zipper of your bag shines under the passing streetlamps.. “You’re already doing me a favor by driving me home.”

“The coffee shop is still open. Would you mind accompanying me for a drink?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah- sure. I’d be okay with that. I still owe you that cup of coffee. You know, from when we met at the shop?”

He shakes his head. “Consider it my treat. I am inviting you after all.”

“But you did win that little wager, and you are driving me home. I could at least buy you a cup of coffee or something.” He shakes his head. “Come on-” you slap the back of your hand lightly against his bicep- “don’t make it difficult.”

“I’m not making it difficult,” he frowns.

The GPS continues to tell Dr. Ohnn to make a right when he can, and he fumbles with turning it off, grumbling under his breath until you offer your hand out. The phone is placed down, and you shut down the application. The phone is held in your hand, the application minimizing to show his background- a picture of- the phone is pulled out of your grasp.

“I don’t even get to learn what your background is?” You give a faux pout, leaning back against the seat. “Come on, I didn’t even get a chance.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he tells you. “It isn’t all that exciting.” You stick your tongue out at him in response and he fails to suppress a smile. 

Pulling to the side of the road, you place your bag on the floor, snagging your debit card before zipping the bag up. Getting out of the car, you’re careful not to slam the door. You rush to beat him from opening the door. “Okay,” you draw out the vowel, slipping to move in front of him, “how about this. You buy my cup, and I’ll buy yours. I’ll even let you get a pastry- you know as a thank you for driving me home.

“You don’t have to. I offered to drive you home, it was completely my own volition.”

You give an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever you say, but the offer is there.”

As he orders his drink, you press your card against the payment terminal, telling the barista that it’ll be two separate transactions. You can feel his eyes on you and you can only smile, nodding when the barista confirms. Lacking your energy, he pays when you order your own. You’re sure that the barista is annoyed with the two of you, but at this point, you had a win that he was owed. 

With the lack of patrons, the two of you find a table placed beside the window. The two of you sit across from each other, and wait for your drinks to be called. Tapping your hands against the table, you look out the window, watching the people and the cars. 

“I was more than happy paying for your drink,” he comments. 

You look at him through the reflection, and he meets your gaze there. “I know. But you’re already doing me such a favor by taking me home and stuff-” shrugging, you turn to face him- “might as well buy you a drink.”

“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.

“I wanted to.”

Looking at you, he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he can’t find the right words. You nod, letting him take his time and to continue with whatever he is going to say. Clearing his throat, he can only get a breath out when the two of your names are spoken. You turn just in time to see the drinks placed on the counter as the barista walks away.

“I’ll go get them for us.” He stands from the table and you watch him. He takes long strides, his head bent and arms close to himself, as if trying to make himself to the public. You hadn’t realized that he had such squared shoulders. He almost reminds you of a rectangle.

Placing your drink in front of you, he takes a seat. His teeth bite at his bottom lip and he brings the cup to his lips. Placing the drink down, he clears his throat. “Why did you ask about Dr. Owens?”

Ah. Maybe you should’ve kept quiet about that. “What do you mean?”

“You mentioned that I would get in trouble with them if I had driven you home.”

“Oh um, yeah. It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying, I’m asking.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your gaze focused on your drink. “They just seemed into you is all. I thought there was something you know-” you lift your head looking at him- “between you and them.”

“You thought they were into me?” You choose to ignore the wonder in his voice. Opting to stay silent, you nod. “I can assure you, Dr. Owens is not into me.”

“It sure seemed that way,” you mumble into the rim of your drink. He stares at you, and you shift in your seat, hiding behind your cup. “What?”

“What made you think they were into me?” 

Your molars grind against each other. The rim of the cup is brought to your lips, but you don’t take a sip, you only press your lips against the opening, before lowering it back to the table. “Oh gosh, are you into them? Look, that's sweet and all, but I’d rather not play matchmaker to some scientists.” He stays silent, and you look outside the window, watching a couple walk past by. “You really wanna know?” He makes a noise of confirmation, and you let out a held breath. “In that little time that I saw the two of you, they had no trouble touching you. And they call you by your name, too.”

“My name?”

Nodding, you twist and untwist your legs. “Yeah.”

“Is that usually an indicator?” 

Lifting your hand, you make a see-saw motion. “Sometimes, I guess. Depends on how it’s used and all. Context, ya know?”

“I call other people by their names,” he counters. You nod, letting him continue. “I call you by your name.”

“Oh yeah- I um, I guess so,” you mumble, taking another sip of your drink, desperate to keep yourself busy.

“You never call me by my name.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was allowed.”

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”

“I always thought you found me annoying.”

“I did.” You frown, and he gives you an apologetic smile. His hand lifts up, grabbing at a strand of hair and twirling it around his finger. “That doesn’t mean that I disliked you. I have to admit-” he lets go of the strand and it falls back to place- “I always did find your drive admirable. You weren’t one to give up. You’re quite stubborn.” You stare at each for a few moments, heat blazing itself against your skin, making a chill over your body. He breaks eye contact and tilts the cup, making a circle with the bottom edge. “Do you really believe that Dr. Owens likes me because they call me by my name.” You nod, your mouth too dry despite the drink in your hand to even consider speaking. “Hm, okay,” he hums. His hand runs over his stubble, and you wonder if he’s growing out a beard. “You said that they touch me.”

“I um, saw the two of you in an office- while on the tour.” Your hand pulls up to scratch at your shoulder. You feel the need to hide from him.

His smile stretches even more. “I thought I was losing my marbles.” You take a sip of your drink. “I thought that after all my imagining about-” he clicks the last consonant, and you straighten yourself, leaning forward- “I thought that finally, after all of your incessant questioning, that I was beginning to imagine you.”

“Mhm,” you hum, taking another sip of your very diluted drink.

“You were saying.” He rolls his hand expectantly.

“When you turned around- when you saw me- they immediately turned you back around.”

“So? I believe we were discussing the recent project that we’ve both been assigned on”

Grabbing a napkin, you dab at the table where a ring of water from the condensation has formed on the table. “It was how they touched you. They touched your back and lingered their hand on you.”

“I’m not following.”

You make a noise of discomfort, and fist the wet napkin in your hand. “I can’t explain it in words. It’s- It’s in the details and stuff. The observer's point of view.”

“Can you show me?” 

“Like?”

“Touch me.”

The napkin is clenched tightly in your hand, your nails ripping through the soft paper. Warmth flushes through your body, and you fear that he can notice the change in you. You know that he doesn’t mean it that way, but for him to say something so- so, intimate sounding, without meaning to, made your heart skip a beat. His eyes widen, and he stumbles over his words. “No- Not- Not like that. I hadn’t meant for it- I’m so terribly sorry-”

“It’s fine,” you reassure, waving your hand in front of you. “It’s cool,” you smile at him and he stops his ramble of words. There’s a rapid beat that bruises inside of your chest at his words- even if he did mean them innocently. “But you know, they touched you at the cafeteria too. They went up to you and touched your bicep.” You lift your hand, reaching over the table, letting it hover over his forearm. Glancing at him, he’s watching you, and you close your fist, pulling your hand back to you. 

“And you believe that all of those actions are due to the fact that they like me?”

Shrugging, you suck in your bottom lip. “It’s just my theory,” you whisper, embarrassment laced into your words. “They wanted to eat lunch with you too.”

The two drinks remain untouched and outside, you can hear sirens. His hand lifts up to rub over his mouth, and he has this faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he mumbles. 

“Okay?”

“Is there anything else that you want to add?”

You pout. “No.”

In the corner of your eye, you see a worker clean a table with a rag. You watch for a moment, and turn your head when chairs are fixed back into their positions, scraping along the floor. A part of you feels unsure about the conversation. While you wouldn’t believe that the scientist had a crush on you, you had at least humored the idea, but knowing that he isn’t interested in you, makes you want to go home.

You open your mouth to speak, and he beats you to it. “I’m hungry,” he states.

“I told you you could have gotten a pastry,” you point out.

“I want dinner. An actual dinner.” Sitting straight, it’s as if he has a new resolve. “Are you hungry?”

Blinking in surprise, you lift your shoulders. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I could eat something.”

“Good,” he nods to himself, and stands up, the chair squeaks against the floor. You follow his eyes, looking up at him as he adjusts the chair and stands by the table. “I’d like for you to accompany me to dinner.” Clearing his throat, his shoulders bunch together, and any confidence that he did have, is slowly evaporating. “That- That is if you want to, of course.”

You scoff with a smile. “Yeah, I’m game with that, Dr. Ohnn.” 

“Jonathan. You can call me Jonathan. I don’t mind it if you call me that.” He twists his hands, interlocking them, and pulling on the back of his palm, his skin stretching thin over his knuckles. 

Straightening yourself, you nod. “Okay. Jonathan it is. The same um, goes to you of course. You can call me by my name.”

“I already do,” and the way that he says your name, softly and tenderly, held with a smile, makes you turn your head and scratch at your neck in a desperate attempt to hide how wide your smile is.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. Standing up, you make sure to push the chair in and grab at the loose napkins and your drink. 

Following behind you, he throws his drink into the trash. This time, he’s made sure that he stands in front of you, stretching his arm out to hold the door open for you. Mumbling, you thank him, standing beside the door as he goes to open the passenger side door.

None of what he’s doing is helping quell your attraction to the scientist.

Clicking his seatbelt, he starts the car, driving away from the coffee shop. “Do you have a preference?”

“On food?” He nods, fumbling with the radio that plays the song of the week. You tap your foot to the beat. “Um, I think I’m good with most stuff. Restaurants are pretty inclusive about diets and stuff most days.”

“There’s a burger place on the way to Alchemax, do you know the one I’m talking about?” 

“With the really good burgers?” 

“Yes. Would you like to go there?” 

“Isn’t that too far?”

“They opened one relatively nearby.”

“Oh okay,  yeah.” You nod. “I’m game with that.”

“Good. That’s good.”

The drive to the restaurant passes by quickly as you chat about miscellaneous things- the weather, work, different coffee shops. Uncomfortable with silences, you keep the conversation going, jumping from topic to topic, trying to make something stick. However, the driver seems to be content with silence, nodding and giving one-worded answers, only really contributing to the conversation when you give your opinion on something.

Pulling into the restaurant, he takes a glance at you, and you smile in response. He opens his door, and steps out, and you follow close behind. The door is held open for you, you order your own meal, and before you can pat your pockets to find your card, he’s already paying for the meal. You aren’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. You feel good- happy and flustered even- but you can’t kid yourself. It’s dinner. With a scientist who you have pestered for a good while about what exactly is going on within Alchemax. It’s dinner with a guy who you had coffee with- twice. That’s it. 

When he sits in front of you, and smiles, you think you’re about to pass out.

Oh. He’s really cute.

No. Whatever feelings you’re having is a moment of weakness. Maybe you should download a dating app or something. 

Your newfound emotions aren’t settled by the end of the meal where you tell him a story about an old job that you used to work. He’s an avid listener, expressive and laughing when you start to smile uncontrollably. He pushes his tray closer to yours, letting you snag what little left of fries that he has. Even with bags under his eyes, he remains attentive during your story.

“No, and like my supervisor tells me “Well whole milk is regular milk,” and I’m so adamant-” you laugh mid-sentence- “that two percent is regular milk. Or like can be qualified as regular milk.”

“Why were you so adamant about it?” He laughs softly, leaning forward.

“Honestly?” You lean forward, stealing a fry of his and plopping it in your mouth. “I just really hate being wrong. Anyways-” you wave your hand in the air- “we have this whole spiel about milk of all things. And I tell him that I like oat milk and he’s like-” you deepen your voice to portray your supervisor- “‘Oat milk isn’t even milk. How do you even milk an oat?’”

“How do you milk an oat?” He asks with knitted brows.

“I-” you pause and tap at the table. “I always thought you blended it. You know, like peanut butter?”

“Yeah, but people don’t drink peanut butter.”

“I bet you that there is at least one person in the world who does drink peanut butter.”

“Okay, you find me that person and I’ll buy you a coffee next time.”

“Yeah, yeah-” you wave your hand, trying not to let your competitive side leak out. “Anyways, I’m sure they make almond milk the same way. Blended.” You lift a hand and point with your index, swirling it in the air.

“I’m partial to oat,” he admits.

“I gotta be honest, I think all milk tastes the same,” you whisper out the confession, covering the side of your mouth with one hand.

“Oh, now you’re being difficult,” he says with a roll of his eyes, adjusting his glasses by the leg. 

“I’m not, I swear! It just all tastes the same. Doesn’t stop me from asking for it at the coffee shops.”

“Even if it tastes the same?”

“I like feeling fancy,” you lilt, and he laughs.

“So you’re tricking your mind?” 

“Oh totally.” 

“With the fake milks?”

“Real, regular milk,” you counter. “Soy is fake- I think.”

“Oh, soy is fake, but the others aren’t.” He scoffs. “That’s where you draw the line.”

You laugh, taking the final sip of your drink. “Yeah, obviously.”

He joins your laughter, dipping his head down, and stray hairs fall in front of him. When he lifts his head, his smile is wide and open, and he has such a nice laugh- deep and the type that shakes his body. Pride makes your chest swell and heat burn over your cheeks at making him not only smile, but laugh. Fighting back the urge to move away the tray pieces of hair that have fallen, you clench your hand into a fist, your laughter slowly dying down. 

A quiet moment befalls the two of you, and you both look at each other. You rub the bottom of your shoe over the top of the other, and check the time. With a click of your tongue, you gather your trash onto the tray.

“We should probably get going. It’s close to closing time for them,” you explain, nodding your head back to the register where two workers chat.

“Oh, should we?” Despite questioning you, he follows your example and gathers his own trash.

“As someone who used to work customer service jobs, yeah.” Tossing your trash into the designated area, you stack the tray overhead. “I’m pretty sure that the employees probably hate us by now.”

“Good point.” He holds the door open for you, and you follow him back across the mostly empty parking lot. Inside the car, he waits for the engine to heat, and he turns to you. “I apologize for keeping you so late.”

“No, this was,” you hesitate choosing your words, “fun.” You nod your head and pull your bag up onto your lap. “I had a good time.”

“I’m glad that you did,” he says softly, giving you a final look before he gives his attention to the road. 

-

After a long day, you stand in front of your building, Jonathan joining you. You’ve always been much more comfortable with chatter than you have been with silence, but as you stand with him, you don’t feel as uncomfortable. You might even like the silence if it gives you reason to look at him. You stand on the steps leading to your home, finally looking him in the eye, and you hate the fact that he has such soft brown eyes. 

“Thanks for driving me home. And getting me a drink.” You kick at the ground, scuffing up at the dirt that lays in a thin layer. “And paying for dinner.” A jitteriness falls over you, and you can only twist and grip onto the strap of your bag. “Thanks for all of that Dr.-” he gives you a narrowed look and you quickly correct yourself- “Jonathan.”

“You don’t have to add my title,” he tells you. Beside him, his hand twists at the hem of his shirt. 

“Force of habit,” you say shrugging. Clearing your throat, you start. “Still, thanks. This was nice, Jonathan.” You like his name, and you hate the way that it makes you feel.

He nods, and raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, thank you for accompanying me to dinner. I had a good time.” He says your name delicately, rolling off his tongue, and you never thought that you would want to hear your name repeated over and over.

“No worries,” you answer breathlessly. You can’t think around him. Everything feels as if it’s too much- too hot, too close, too sweet. 

It was one day- two technically- but it was a short amount of time. You wear your heart on your sleeve despite trying so desperately not to. All it took was one day with him, and you think that you might like him. 

Oh, how you wish he was with someone else, then you could give yourself a reason to look away from him. 

With cotton stuffed into your mouth, you don’t trust yourself any further. You think that you should go inside- that maybe you shouldn’t be taking up his time. A part of you wonders when you’ll see him again. Shifting your weight between each foot, you pat your hands on your thighs, drying off the clammy feeling. You wish he would start talking again. Or maybe you should. If you go inside, then this could all be over. You turn your foot, and wave your hand in a goodbye, when he starts to speak.

“Will you be joining another tour group?” There’s a hint of hope that’s weaved into his words. He’s looking at you, and you wonder if you look pretty.

“As much as I enjoyed it, no.” You think you imagine seeing his shoulders slump at your words. “It wasn’t really for me. It was nice, but much more kid-centered.” His glasses are slipping down his nose and you wonder if he’d get upset if you pushed them up. “Will you be going to the café tomorrow?”

“I work tomorrow,” he admits.

“Oh,” you clear your throat, and fighting away the burning feeling that is burning in your chest, you suck in a deep breath. It makes sense to do this now. You have to take a risk. It’s dumb and highly unprofessional, but you need to tell him something. He has to stick around, just for a moment longer, just so you could get whatever pink and sweet is in you, out. “Would-” he word comes out much softer than you would have liked- “Would you want to exchange numbers, maybe?” You hope he says no.

“Really?” He looks so shocked, and so happy. A grin tilts his lips upwards, and like seeing his smile.

Nodding, you rub the flat of your middle finger against your jawline. “Yeah. It would be a better alternative than meeting during lunch on a tour group or a random chance meeting at the café. Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” he says eagerly.

You nod eagerly, unable to fend off your smile. “Cool, cool.” You suck in a deep breath, and wait for a moment, before you start to pat your pockets, pulling out your phone and clicking at the ‘New Contact’ section. Holding the phone to him, he grabs the device and places his information. 

Holding the phone tight in your hands, you tap your fingers against the back of the case. “I’ll message you later?”

“I’ll look forward to it.” He lifts his hand and waves at you. You watch his back as he steps into his car.

You can hardly believe that you even made it inside without dropping your keys from excitement and nerves. Behind your door, you clasp your hand over your mouth, pitifully trying to stop the smile that beams across your features. Oh, this isn’t fair. And oh, you can’t wait to message him.