#Jason Sudeikis blurb

[calzone-d]

Jason who loves when you ride him because all he has to do is lean forward to wrap his lips around your nipples 😫

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter thirteen

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February 14th, 2019

The date wasn’t lost on you. Not when you woke up and you had a text from him with a stupid meme about screenplays. Not when you noticed his five o’clock shadow in class that night and thought about how cool the metal of his watch felt against your throat. 

It especially wasn’t lost on you when you finished the last sip of your second drink at O’Halloran’s and set your cup back on the table with force. 

“What’s got you in a mood tonight?” Max asked with a skeptical glance. 

“That’s a joke, right?” Sophie looked at him and then at you.

You sighed, rolled your eyes at Sophie and wished that just once she’d have a bit more grace when she threw you under the bus. 

“She’s all sad because it’s Valentine’s Day and you know who hasn’t even acknowledged it.”

She wasn’t wrong. You glanced around the bar quickly to make sure any other NYU-affiliates were out of earshot. 

“Not at all?” Naomi asked, her eyebrows arched slightly on her forehead. 

“It’s fine,” you waved them off. “We’re not together, we’re not anything, we’re just--” you rambled a little, the drinks had already gone to your head and the plate of nachos you’d shared with them for dinner did little to soak up the alcohol you poured down your throat in an attempt to forget the significance of the 14th day of the month. 

“Having a movie-worthy love affair?” Sophie teased with a smile. 

“Something like that,” you groaned, a change in tune when you sat up straight and forced a smile. “But we’re here to celebrate Naomi and her accomplishments and I will stop being a party pooper.”

“Sure you will,” Max laughed. 

“Sorry he hasn’t said anything,” Naomi reached over and put a hand on your arm, always the sensitive and compassionate one. 

It’s not like you had the right to be mad. Honestly, you were frustrated with yourself for caring in the first place. What did you expect? A bouquet of roses? A romantic night out to dinner in the village? 

All of that was a long shot and in moments like this--when anxiety got the best of you--you still wondered who else might be waiting for a text from him or hoping they’d see him soon. 

Maybe Jennie. Maybe some other random woman he knew from work or some previous life. 

Your third drink only made the questions echo louder in your head, a round of tequila shots brought your thumbs to the screen of your phone. 

Y/N L/N (10:44pm): Happy friday

He texted back quickly, another layer of confusion when you wondered where he was. His apartment? Out with friends? But he beat you to it.

Jason Sudeikis (10:46pm): Happy Friday

Jason Sudeikis (10:47pm): Are you out?

Y/N L/N (10:49pm): At O’Halloran’s having drinks in Naomi’s honor!

Jason Sudeikis (10:49pm): Sounds like a good way to spend Friday night!

You didn’t want to push it, thanked Sophie when she returned with your next drink and put your phone face down on the table. After Max started chatting up someone at the booth behind yours and Sophie scanned the room for cute girls, Naomi leaned forward and smiled at you. 

“What’s everyone’s favorite professor up to tonight?”

“No clue,” you shrugged casually, a tiny smirk at how well she could read you. 

“No clue?”

You shook your head. “Told him I’m here but--”

“And he’s not already on his way?”

You laughed, appreciated how she always supported you no matter if she agreed with your decisions. 

“No,” you shook your head. You picked up your phone and felt the familiar rush of butterflies when his name appeared on your screen. One new message. 

Jason Sudeikis (10:53pm): Do you want to come over?

Naomi watched your face light up, you showed her the text and she smiled. 

Y/N L/N (10:56pm): Now?

Jason Sudeikis (10:57pm): Or whenever you finish up

Y/N L/N (10:57pm): All the way out to Brooklyn this late at night?

Jason Sudeikis (10:58pm): You’re right, I’ll call you an uber so you don’t have to take the subway this late 😅

And he did. He sent you a screenshot and texted you the whole way, opened his front door with a smile when you looked up at him in the chilly night air. With one smile the uncertainty and the nervousness melted away, you stepped inside and shrugged out of your coat. 

“I hope you at least tried to be subtle in sneaking over here,” he smirked, watched as you made your way over to the couch and slumped into it. 

“Oh relax,” you waved him off playfully. “They don’t care.”

“I’m glad they don’t,” he nodded genuinely, let out a sigh when he sat down beside you. “But I know a lot of people who would.”

“Hmm,” you twisted yourself towards him, pulled your knees up onto the cushion and narrowed your eyes. “And why’s that?”

“As fun as this is--we’re still breaking a lot of rules.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled, liked that he played along when you asked: “How so?”

He smirked. “Well, let’s say there’s a guy.”

You nodded, uh-huh.

“And there’s a girl,” he watched you, eyes intent to make sure you were following. 

“And the guy is older, and he’s—like—a professional? A boss? He’s like a boss,” he decided. 

“Yeah.”

“And his secretary is younger—not like, too young, in a weird way—just like, young in a...hot way.”

You smirked, “yeah? What’s the big deal about that?” You played. 

“Some people might say that the boss has a level of power over his secretary, seeing as he controls her advancement within the organization, right?” 

“Sure,” you shrugged.

He waited a beat, amused by the way you held his gaze.

“Do you see where I’m going with this?” He rolled his hands around in the air, trying to gauge your level of understanding. 

You shrugged again, mostly playing up your level of intoxication to get a laugh out of him. “Eh.”

“I’m the boss,” he nodded, connecting the dots. “You’re kind of, like, the secretary.”

You laughed at the guilty look on his face, his hate to break it to you smile. 

“Me?” You gasped, eyebrows arched high. 

“You? What do you mean, you? Of course you,” he laughed. "Who else would I be referencing?"

You didn't want to know the answer to his question, so you smiled at him for a second, gave him a chance to think he had the last word.

“I can be the boss too sometimes,” you glanced up at him. 

A smirk when he took the bait. “You?”

“Of course me,” you borrowed his words. “I can show you.” 

You stood, angled yourself in front of him and looked down at him. He turned towards you instinctually, faced the center of the living room where you stood with a confident twinkle in your eye. 

“Yeah—” he nodded, a little outpaced by the change in beat. You stepped forward, put a knee on either side of him when you straddled his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist like they always did, you settled onto him easily and smiled down at him. 

“What?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twisted towards the ceiling when his eyes narrowed, suspicious. 

“I just can’t believe you said I’m basically your secretary,” you teased.

“I was making an analogy!” He defended, his eyes wide when he bit back a laugh. You couldn’t even reply, he leaned up and caught your lips in his, pulling you closer. His hands roamed your body, desperate to feel the friction between you. 

You liked the way he wanted you, felt less insecure in moments like this when he was hungry for your touch and wanting more. He tugged your shirt over your head, smiled up at you playfully when he unclasped your bra behind your back. 

He kissed you again, but he tensed suddenly and pulled away after only a few seconds.

“How--uh--how drunk are you?”

You smiled, a closed-lipped one when he searched your face for an answer. 

“Sober enough to consent,” you nodded, cutting right to it.

He let out a quiet laugh, and for a moment it felt like you could sit on his lap forever. “Good,” he teased. “I don’t want to take advantage of you more than I already am.”

February 26th, 2019

Jennie and Dan had already left, eager to make it home before the snow started on a Wednesday night. Javier rubbed his jaw and Jason leaned back in his chair. 

You were flattered at first, saw the way he looked at you when you said you’d stay late. I have some more in me, too, I guess. 

But eventually Javier decided he’d rather make it home for his baby’s bedtime routine than sit in the conference room. He packed his bag and pointed a finger at the two of you when he turned for the door: don’t stay too late! 

Now it was your turn to lean back in your chair. Jason looked over at you when you adjusted, put his red pen behind his ear and rubbed his eyes.

“Well--any other thoughts on your independent study or are you still gonna try to convince me to have you come to Cannes?”

“I have to convince you?” You asked with a bit of surprise. “Sex in the South of France isn’t enough?”

He laughed at that, rolled his eyes a little when he shrugged. “Feels risky, but--it does sound nice.”

“As if you wouldn’t have slept with me last year when we were there,” you eyed him.

“Maybe,” he teased.

“Oh come on,” you laughed, shutting your laptop now when you decided you didn’t have any more steam for tonight. “You got so jealous when Max took me to that club! You seriously asked me if I met anyone!”

He smiled when he thought back to it, scrunched his nose at his own jealousy. “I was still…treading lightly.” He followed your lead, shut his laptop and started to pack up. “Speaking of that, though.”

You watched him expectantly, rifled through a notebook before slipping it into your bag. 

“Jennie asked me on a date.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “She did.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement when you kept your eyes on his. He was still smirking. 

“Yeah--I, uh--I politely declined.”

“Oh.”

“I just told her that it’s probably crossing a line--mixing work and play.”

“Ah,” you nodded, smiling at the look of self-awareness on his face. “Very upstanding of you.”

He nodded quickly in sarcastic agreement. “I never mix work and play.”

“Never,” you laughed, shaking your head when he stood. 

“Or at least…I only do it in certain situations.”

“Mmm,” you nodded. “Right.”

He took a step closer to you. You tried to fight the smile on your face but he was already too close. He smiled down at you, and for a moment you wondered what would happen if you said certain things aloud. 

I think I like you. 

You almost wanted to keep your distance, pull back when his arms wrapped around your waist or when his fingers found the waistband of your panties. But he pulled them down your legs when his mouth stayed locked on yours. You let him fuck you with your clothes on, quick and hot and still swimming in thoughts of what if.  

He thrusted into you and moaned your name, late enough that most of the building was empty save for security guards who did their rounds. When he zipped his pants and you smoothed out your blouse, he turned to see you. 

“Alright," he sighed. "I’ve been thinking about Cannes…”

“And?” You smiled up at him, hoping the recent orgasm only helped your case. 

He let out a sigh, one that he obviously played up for dramatic effect. “I don’t think the school will help with the cost since it’s not necessary for you to come. But if you can come up with a decent project to submit--whether that’s a critique or something--I think we could probably get Dean Vasquez to back it.”

“Really?” You tried not to bounce with excitement, reminded yourself that while the two of you certainly had a unique relationship, you didn’t need to behave in a way that made your age obvious. 

He laughed at your excitement, nodding when he slung his bag over his shoulder. 

“I can email him and try to set up a meeting, you know--go over the details and fill out the paperwork.”

You smiled, nodded before you took a step over to him and reached up for his face. One kiss, not overly sexual and not all that passionate. Serious, genuine, different. 

He cleared his throat when you took a step back. Awkward, but only a little.

“I appreciate it,” you said. “I appreciate you.”

He smiled, like he was in on the secret. 

March 3rd, 2019 

You took a deep breath before you knocked on the door. A tiny window told you he was already inside, his hair was coiffed and his tie was blue. 

Dean Vasquez looked up and waved you in, an awkward smile when you stepped in and looked over at Jason. He met your eyes briefly, a close lipped smile when you greeted them.

“Hi, Dean Vasquez, Professor Sudeikis—”

It was clunky, certainly not the way you typically interacted with him. 

“Y/N, hi—come on in, have a seat.” Dean Vasquez was an older man who always wore patterned ties. He frequented campus events and was one of those deans who was able to address most students in the Graduate School of Film by name. 

You dropped your bag off your shoulder now, smoothed out your skirt and sat in the chair beside Jason. 

He looked at you quickly when you sat, nodded a little and then cleared his throat when Dean Vasquez leaned back in his chair. 

“So—Y/N, Professor Sudeikis has informed me that you’re interested in going on the student trip to the Cannes Film Festival again this year.”

You nodded, smiled up at him. “Yes, yeah, I would love to be able to go and assist on the trip. I’d certainly be happy to do an assignment or project in accordance with an independent study, primarily.”

Right, just like you’d discussed.

Dean Vasquez nodded slowly, like he was taking it all in. “Professor Sudeikis, you feel like this is a good option for Ms. L/N?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded quickly. “Y/N’s been my advisee her whole time in Grad Film. She’s been a TA for me and now she’s completing her internship at NBC/Universal.”

You looked over at him when he spoke, apparently he’d decided to leave out that your internship was also with him. 

“She’s a very impressive student,” he nodded again. “And I think this is a good opportunity for her to finish her studies here at NYU.” 

“Well, we certainly don’t have students attend this trip twice very often,” Dean Vasquez admitted. “Y/N, how do you think another trip to the film festival would further your education?”

Dean Vasquez smiled when he asked his question, apparently the meeting was going well and you were saying the right things. You glanced at Jason again and smiled back at the Dean. 

“I had such an amazing experience last year in Cannes. It’s not hard to further your education at a festival where they’re screening some of the most impressive films from new creators,” you gushed. “And I’ve already started brainstorming my project. There’s an incredible director--Sarai Marks--who’s screening her new film and I was thinking about doing a paper about how her directorial style has changed over the course of her three major films.”

You were excited. Despite the fact that being one credit behind felt like a gut punch, the opportunity to do a deep dive into one of your favorite directors still lit up your brain like lightning. 

“It does sound like an amazing trip,” Dean Vasquez smiled. “And it does feel like a good opportunity for an independent study, especially overseen by someone who will likely be core faculty—”

Jason smiled at that, sat up straight and nodded at Dean Vasquez. “Yes sir, yeah, absolutely. I know it’s a unique one, but I do think Y/N will do a phenomenal job and I know she’ll continue to make NYU proud for a long time. She’s already charting a course to be a staff writer at NBC upon completion of her degree.”

You watched Jason for a second, careful to control your smile and the heat on your cheeks when he complimented you. What you really were thrown off by, though, were the words that Dean Vasquez used.

Core faculty. 

“Well,” Dean Vasquez nodded and looked between the two of you. “That all sounds like an easy decision, then.” He cleared his throat and kept going. “Professor Sudeikis, I can sign off on any necessary paperwork you need for Miss L/N to join the trip. One second—Paige?”

He called to the middle aged secretary that sat outside his office at a beautiful cherry desk. 

She rounded the corner and came into the room. “Anything you get from Professor Sudeikis over the next few days regarding the Cannes trip, please flag that as urgent.”

She nodded and smiled, stayed in the room as if she knew her job wasn’t finished. 

Dean Vasquez sighed. “Alright, Professor Sudeikis, if you don’t mind, I just have a few questions for Miss L/N.”

Jason shifted in his seat, glanced at you quickly and then back to Dean Vasquez. Oh, he was being asked to leave.

He nodded, did a good job at hiding his confusion or uncertainty as he shouldered the messenger bag he always carried. “Yeah—of course, uh, thank you so much for your time, Dean Vasquez. Y/N—I’ll see you in class?”

You’d see him elsewhere before then, but you chalked his words up to an appropriate goodbye in front of other university staff. 

You all smiled, muttered farewells when he left the office and shut the door behind him. Your heart thumped a little once he was gone—were you in trouble? Had you done something wrong?

You turned back to Dean Vasquez. Paige—who still stood in the room in her pencil skirt and funky blouse—smiled when he cleared his throat. 

“I hope you don’t mind that Paige is joining, but—there’s some University Policy that I wanted to discuss.”

You looked between the two of them and nodded. Holy shit. Where was this going?

“You’re obviously a very impressive student, uh, none of this is questioning your merit at this institution. But, we do like to check in with students who have close relationships with faculty or advisors to ensure that there are appropriate boundaries in place? Give the student an opportunity to voice any concerns that may arise.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Uh, no—everything is fine.”

Was that the right thing to say? You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. Dean Vasquez sensed this.

“If you ever want to discuss anything along those lines, please know that you could always speak with myself or Dean Grasso,” he referenced another Graduate Dean—a female, Paula Grasso, who oversaw the Graduate Theatre program. “If that would be more comfortable.”

So that’s why Paige stayed. To be the other woman in the room. To be the other vagina so you felt comfortable.

While you appreciated their effort to make you comfortable in an uncomfortable situation, all you could manage was a nod as you tried to stammer out a reply. “Okay, thank you—I can assure you that Ja—Professor Sudeikis—has been nothing but professional and appropriate. He’s a great mentor.”

Dean Vasquez nodded. “Well then, please make sure he fills out that paperwork and we’ll get everything approved for your independent study.”

“I will,” you smiled, stood and gathered your bag from the floor by your seat. “Thank you, both of you, for your time.”

You hurried out, rounded the corner of Paige’s desk and opened your phone.

Jason Sudeikis (11:32am): Waiting down the hall for you

So you stepped outside the administrative wing, your footsteps echoed in the wide hallway when you turned left. Your heart was beating fast, you tried to steady your breathing.

He stood against the wall, bag slung over his shoulder, scrolling on his phone. He waited for you.

“Hi,” you said quietly as you approached.

He looked up and clicked his phone to sleep. “Hey—“ he turned towards you when you stopped in front of him. “How was that?”

You smiled, reached forward to slip a finger between the buttons on his shirt. You were proud. “Why didn’t you tell me you got the core faculty spot?”

His hand reached up automatically, his fingers held onto yours for a second.

“Nothing’s finalized,” he shrugged, the hint of a smile on his face. “I haven’t signed an offer letter yet.”

A door opening down the hall caused you both to retreat from the other’s touch. He blinked when you met his eyes.

“What did he want to talk to you about?”

Your eyebrows rose at that, you nodded a little when you smirked. “He wanted to make sure that there are appropriate boundaries between us.”

“What?” He asked, his face immediately contorted into a look of concern. “What do you mean? What did he ask?”

“He just asked if there were appropriate boundaries,” you giggled a little, but he didn’t find this entertaining. “Then he said if I ever needed to discuss anything along those lines I could talk to him or Dean Grasso.”

“A woman? He offered up Dean Grasso? As if you’re some…” he looked around before he lowered his voice, “sexual harassment victim?”

“I told him everything was fine,” you said again, a shrug of your shoulder. “I handled it.”

“I know, but this isn’t good, Y/N—if anyone finds out anything I could lose my job and therefore not become core faculty.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you said calmly, hopeful that your words would lower his pulse. 

“Okay,” he nodded to himself. “Uh—I should go, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, kept your eyes on his.

“I’ll see you? I’ll text you?”

You nodded, reassured—only slightly—by the fact that now your goodbyes included a promise to talk soon. 

He walked away, shoved his hands in his pockets when he headed for the glass doors that would deposit him onto the street. You let out a sigh. At least you were going to Cannes. 

March 10th, 2019

You hated how petty you were, but you also felt grateful to have the tension behind you. Now that you knew Jennie had asked Jason out--and that he had said no--you felt like you could breathe easier. 

So much so, actually, that you walked beside her and let out a snort of a laugh when she impersonated one of the characters in your script. A sandwich in hand, you both brought back lunch and set your phones down on the table. 

The conference room was empty, the others were scattered throughout midtown in search of a meal before you’d hit the afternoon with force and attempt to finish the script for Season 2 Episode 5. 

“Hey,” Jennie said quickly, her voice quiet to make it obvious that she was shifting topics. “I finally asked Jason if he wanted to grab a drink.”

“Oh,” you looked up at her, speaking around the bite of sandwich you’d just taken. “How’d that go?”

As if you didn’t know.

“Fine,” she shrugged, downplayed it and wiped her mouth. “Said he’s actually seeing someone, so--there’s that.”

“Oh,” you said again, eyes a bit wide this time. “I didn’t…know that.”

“Yeah,” she said casually. “He didn’t say who or anything, but--oh well.”

Your stomach churned with a new wave of anxiety: was he actually seeing someone? Would he tell you if he was? And why, most importantly, did your face get red with heat like he was yours and yours alone?

“Hi,” Dan walked back in with Jason in tow, they came back to the table and settled in when you tried to slow your breathing. 

The group fell into casual conversation, Jennie perked up after Javier cracked a joke. 

“Hey--by the way, Y/N mentioned that we all need to get drinks soon.”

“Yeah?” Jason forked into a bite of salad and smiled at you. 

“Yeah,” Jennie answered for you. “Her birthday was last week so--we have to do something!”

His eyebrows quirked up, he smirked when he said: “It was?”

Jennie answered for you, “yeah!”

“What day?”

You could tell he was playing down his interest, a poor attempt at hiding the tightrope between you.

You shrugged it off, totally not a big deal. “Last week, Thursday.”

“You didn’t mention it at all,” he blinked a few times, lips in a thin line.

“What are you?” Jennie teased him. “The birthday police?”

“No,” he shook his head, almost embarrassed by her accusation. “I just feel bad that…we didn’t know.”

A smooth redirection, you’d purposely declined to tell him the exact date so as to avoid this exact moment. He didn’t need to celebrate you, didn’t need to buy a gift or anything like that. 

You knew that either way you’d be disappointed: it wasn’t like you could actually go out and celebrate: a fancy dinner or a concert or something like that? No way. And besides, after your meeting with Dean Vasquez, he seemed properly spooked. 

He reminded you plenty. In his office late one night, after class last week: we shouldn’t, we can’t, not here. It’s not like you’d stopped sleeping together, but the opportunity never arose now without his acknowledgment of the anxiety he felt or the tightrope you walked.

So you planned a celebration that felt like a good fit: dinner with your friends and drinks this upcoming weekend at O’Halloran’s, Sophie promised she’d make chocolate cupcakes. 

“I’m--uh--having drinks with friends on Friday, so--if you guys are around, you should all stop by.”

“I should be free,” Javier nodded. 

“Me too,” Dan smiled. 

“Yeah,” Jason nodded, a beat before he met your gaze again. “I can swing by.”

Which is how you ended up with a margarita in hand with Sophie and Naomi flanking your sides by the bar later that week. A decent turnout, which always felt nice--you surveyed the crowd of friends and classmates that had showed up to celebrate you. 

Jennie was on time and Max was thrilled to meet her. His younger brother was in town for the weekend, and Connor was just as funny as his brother was, but decidedly less flamboyant. 

“Okay,” Connor said, gesturing towards Max and Jennie with his beer. “Who’s she again and how do we know her?”

“Coworker of mine,” you informed, eyes trailing over to them. “She’s nice but a little annoying.”

“A lot annoying,” Sophie corrected. 

Connor was 26, worked in finance in San Francisco and considered running to be a hobby. He smirked at Sophie but then smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“She’s fine,” you rolled your eyes at Sophie. “She’s grown on me…slightly.”

You would have said more, explained to both of them how even in the last week Jennie seemed to be acting more like your friend than a superior, but the door pushed open when Jason, Javier, and Dan strode in. 

“Jason alert,” Sophie said quickly, an elbow into your ribs when you shot her a look. 

“I see him, thank you.”

You took off towards the door, figured it’d be easier to greet them and pull them towards the bar than to leave them mingling on their own. Javier saw you first, open arms to hug you when he smiled. 

“Happiest of birthdays, even though this is belated,” he teased. 

“Thank you so much,” you laughed, moving from Javier to Dan. Hugs for them both, then Jason.

“Hi,” you said it quietly when he hugged you, your mouth close to his ear. 

“Hey,” he said quickly, pulled back like he was afraid to hold on for too long. 

You brought them over towards the bar, introduced them to some of your other friends and then returned to Sophie. She had another drink waiting for you, Connor’s arms were crossed when he scanned the crowd. 

You filled him in on names and laughed at stories Max told about their childhood, a glass in hand all night as friends came to congratulate you on another successful trip around the sun.

Birthdays were always reflective, you always thought through the months and the days and the years of your life that shaped you into who you were. This year it was no exception, and Jason’s presence in the bar that night only made it all the more obvious how much things had changed in just 365 days. 

Your words were a little slurred by 11pm, but the energy in O’Halloran’s was that of a night that was just beginning. Sophie came back from another group of classmates and made a face that meant business. You smiled and nodded at a friend from your NBC internship, Sophie did her best to not look obviously impatient. 

“Hey,” she tugged you aside eventually, her voice quiet when you both stepped away from the others.

“What’s up?”

“I know you might be weird about this, but Jason’s totally been watching you and Connor,” she offered an evil smirk. “So keep talking to him.”

“What?” You asked again, unsure where she was going and what she was up to.

“He seems jealous,” she shrugged. “He keeps looking over here a lot, probably wondering who he is.”

Right. Because Jason hadn’t actually come up to talk to you or interact with you at all since he walked in. Probably because of the Dean Vasquez meeting, which you hadn’t told any of them about.

“I’m not trying to make him jealous,” you told Sophie. “I’m just being friendly.”

You glanced over her shoulder. He wasn’t looking, but you did notice that he’d stationed himself so you were directly in his sightline. You hoped it was intentional. 

“Also,” you said, annoyed now. “He’s barely even been over here to talk to me. He’s been weird all night.” 

Her eyes grew with intrigue, always ready for drama. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “There was a…thing that happened.”

“Thing that happened?”

O’Halloran’s probably wasn’t the greatest spot in the world to tell Sophie this, so you tugged her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom. Sharpie on the walls and sticky counters. 

Once inside, you let out a deep breath. “We had a meeting with Dean Vasquez, about my independent study. About Cannes.”

She smiled, they were all hopeful you'd come and Sophie would probably burn down NYU herself if Dean Vasquez was a hard sell. “And?”

“And he asked me if there were appropriate boundaries in place.”

Even intoxicated, Sophie’s eyes went wide. “He knows you’re boning?”

“Soph--” you made a face at her word choice. 

“Sorry, having steamy and passionate sex?” She corrected.

“No, no one knows anything, so friendly reminder to keep your mouth shut.”

“Come on,” Sophie rolled her eyes. “He’s practically your boyfriend at this point.”

“No he’s not,” you said quickly, moving aside when she made her way into a stall. “Just because I’ve slept with him doesn’t mean it’ll ever be more.”

You’d been telling yourself that for so long it came out automatically, spilling onto the bathroom counter when Sophie leaned against the wall, unimpressed. 

“You end up at place after partying now and honestly I’m surprised he hasn’t given you a key.”

"Well, he told Jennie he's seeing someone, so, there's that."

"What?" She said from inside the stall, her voice loud when she flushed. "He's got to be talking about you."

"We don't know that," you tried to shake it off. You certainly didn't need to get your hopes up and think that he'd said no to Jennie because he was too busy saying yes to you.

"We don't," Sophie agreed, emerging from inside when she headed for the sink. "But outside of work and teaching and hooking up with you--would he even have time to be dating someone else?"

You would have replied, told her to shut it or something along those lines, but Jennie (of course!) pushed the door open and smiled.

“Hi,” you said quickly, mostly to let Sophie know that you weren’t alone.

“Who's dating someone else?” Jennie smiled eagerly, happy to get in on the gossip. 

“No one,” you waved her off. “Sophie’s being dramatic."

She grabbed paper towel from the dispenser with force, smiled at Jennie. “Just another one of the men obsessed with Y/N!"

You looked up at her, where the fuck are you going with this? “Not at all, actually.”

Jennie was excited now, her eyes lit up when she crossed her arms. “That cute guy out there who’s been with you all night?”

“Yes,” Sophie answered for you quickly, a nod to sell the lie when you rolled your eyes. “Our friend Max’s brother. He’s totally into her, right?”

“Oh for sure,” Jennie agreed. “He’s definitely into you.”

“Alright,” you laughed at the two of them, surprised that Jennie was now just as invested in getting you laid as Sophie always had been. “Well, I don’t think I’m going home with anyone tonight.” 

Which was probably a disappointment to Connor, seeing as he had a new drink waiting for you upon your return from the bathroom. By midnight you were pulled out to the sidewalk, the last few sips of a cocktail in your glass when Max handed you a joint.

Jason finally made his way over once Javier and Dan left, Jennie had said goodbye and climbed into an uber right when Jason made his way into your circle.

“Successful celebration,” he smiled, clinked his glass against yours but kept his voice low. 

“You’ve been all around tonight,” you commented on his socializing, a subtle acknowledgement that while he’d chatted with almost everyone here, you were at the bottom of the list. 

“I didn’t want to monopolize your time,” he smirked. “Seeing as someone else was doing that.”

You nodded, offered a challenging smirk up at him. “How considerate of you.” 

“Hi Sudeikis,” Sophie leaned over and butt into your conversation. 

“Hi Sophie,” he smiled down at her.

“Are we allowed to smoke weed in your presence, or are you going to code-shift into professor now that the clock struck midnight?”

You rolled your eyes at Sophie’s joke, took the joint out of her hand and took another inhale before Jason could reply. O’Halloran’s was thinning out, your classmates had left and most of the patrons inside didn’t seem to be NYU-affiliated. He laughed when you held your breath, blew the smoke up towards the stars.

“Easy there, slugger,” Jason’s eyes went a little wide but he took the last sip of his beer. “Twenty-eight might not be as forgiving.”

“I’m sure she can handle it,” Connor smiled from behind Sophie. All three of you turned at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, yeah, I just figured our night will be easier if I can get her home in one piece.”

Sophie stifled a laugh at Jason’s response: firm and territorial and for once, not cloaked in secrecy. Your eyes were wide at the plural possessive when you looked up at him, then over to Sophie. 

“On that note,” you smiled, “I would love to be in sweatpants right now.”

You backed away from the group, a wobbly one in heels that had Jason lurching to steady you on the sidewalk. Connor watched in quiet amusement, apparently piecing together that despite barely interacting all night, everyone knew you’d end up going home with Jason in tow. 

“It was great to finally meet you, Connor,” you smiled at him, waved and blew Max a kiss when Sophie made her loyalty known. 

“Ditto,” she pointed to Connor. “I’ll walk with you,” Sophie linked her arm with yours when Jason waited for you to make the move. 

“You can come,” you looked up at him and smiled. 

Sophie rolled her eyes playfully, “let’s go Sudeikis, let’s get this wasted bitch home.”

“I can hear you,” you laughed. 

“Am I wrong?” Sophie teased.

You thought on it, fell into step with the two of them towards your neighborhood. “No.”

It was the weed that did it--the last hit on the sidewalk outside that really made the world start spinning. Now, Sophie rummaged for your keys and turned the knob, Jason’s arm was around your shoulders when you tripped up the stairs. 

“Okay, one at a time,” he laughed a little, helping to guide you inside your apartment building.

“I’m fine--I’m just fucked up,” you giggled. 

“We’re aware,” Sophie reminded as she climbed up behind you. Two floors up, you huffed and puffed and forgot, in your state of inebriation, that Sophie and Jason didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of school functions. This became obvious once all three of you were in the living room.

“Are you gonna throw up?” Sophie asked, a hint of disgust on her face.

“No,” you shook your head, holding onto your kitchen counter for stability, eyes drooping with sleep.

“Water,” Jason nodded, a suggestion more than anything else. Sophie pointed to the cabinet by the sink, he found a glass and filled it from the faucet. 

Sophie helped you over to the couch, you kicked off your heels and took the granola bar she found in her purse and tossed to you. “Have a snack,” she said flatly.

“And drink this,” Jason walked over and handed it to you. You took it and sipped, then held up a finger and handed it back to him. “Not so fast.”

“I can stay with her,” Sophie nodded, eyes glancing down to you on the couch and then up to Jason. “Or you could,” she said quickly, nobody knew the rules. 

“I’m not going to die,” you reminded. "I actually want pizza."

“Yeah, uh, I’ll stay,” he nodded, ignoring your comment when his cheeks flushed. Sophie looked around the room, running through a mental checklist. Did he know where your pajamas were? Could he handle whatever mess you’d become?

You watched when he smiled awkwardly, a silent acknowledgement that this was weird but now out in the open. Sophie smiled at that, laughed to herself before she stepped forward. 

She kissed your forehead quickly, “be good for Professor Sudeikis,” she said with a smirk. 

You let out a guttural noise, one of frustration and discomfort and two parts intoxicated. Sophie clapped Jason on the shoulder, who tried his best not to laugh, and watched as she headed for the door. 

“Let me know if you need anything but I’m going to pass the fuck out when I get home.”

She opened the door, turned around and clutched her hand to her heart when she looked at the two of you. She let out a sigh, how adorable, Jason finally cracked a smirk and shook his head. 

“Goodnight, Sophie!”

“Goodnight!” She called, tugging the door shut behind her. One last glance only because she couldn’t let the two of you get away that easy. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

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AN: WOW okay chappie thirteen finally! This one is long and eventful and I HOPE you guys like it! Fair warning now that I think chappie 15 will be....the end?!?!??! happy friday friends!

[calzone-d]

Kinktober Day 1- Mirror Sex (Jason Sudeikis x Fem!Reader)

aaaand here's day one! enjoy! also ps it's actually me in this clip talking to jason. he found me and we got married last weekend. go ahead and call me cal sudeikis.

pairing: Jason Sudeikis x Fem!Reader

word count: 1410

warnings: unprotected sex (bc sometimes it's hard to write the condom in, guys), mirror sex obviously, fingering, bad words

a/n: pumped this out for you guys before bed. obviously it is mirror sex and obviously it is rpf so if that bothers you just scroll. if it bothers you then you may unfortunately be on the wrong blog.

find my masterlist here!

------

 Jason’s lips are hot and wet as they travel between your shoulder and neck. Every few kisses he nips at your skin, making your breath hitch. His hand slides over your figure clad in lingerie that you haven’t even worn for twenty minutes yet. You were admiring your figure in the mirror and Jason busted in on you before you could make your way to him. 

  You’re in between his thighs, facing the new mirror propped against the wall. Jason’s cock is as hard as a rock beneath you, and the more he teases you, the more you need it. His ankles are hooked around yours, prying your legs open.

 “Look at you, honey.. Since when did you get so desperate?”, he teased. His words were followed by the warmth of his hand grazing the inside of your thigh. The other hand was splayed across your abdomen to keep you close.

“Shut u- ohh”, you let out a squeak as the pad of his pointer finger taps against your clit over the thin fabric. The action has you bucking your hips, searching for any friction to calm your hasty mind.

“Yeah? Tell me ‘bout it, sweet girl..”, Jason’s mouth was pressed to the shell of your ear. The words he spoke were low and you could feel him smirk against you as he stroked the backs of his fingers over the fabric covering your soaked pussy.

“It’s…”, with every stroke he added a bit more pressure. “Need more, Jase..”. He’d teased you so much that your mind was focused on one thing- sitting on his thick cock. The week was busy for you both, and instead of getting right to the point Jason seemed to have a different plan. 

His left hand left its spot on your abdomen to cup the back of your head. Until now, your head had been thrown back on his shoulder, eyes closed and head spinning. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head foward. Your eyes met his in the mirror and it only fueled the fire burning inside you. Those strong arms wrapped around you, thighs flexing as he used them to hold your legs open… you were so far gone you barely registered his command. 

“Keep your eyes on the mirror.. You stop, I stop.”

At this point you would’ve sold your soul for him to fill you. Your pussy was soaked and the fabric of your lingerie had taken the brunt of it. Jason stared into your eyes, expecting an answer. 

“Oh.. okay. M’kay, just please-” you grunted and bucked your hips to chase his fingers again. 

He lovingly shook his head and slid his fingertips under the damp fabric. 

“So wet, honey.. So sticky..” you felt his cock throb against your ass as he spoke. His fingertips gathered your arousal and continued stroking over your clit. He knew this was one of the worst ways to tease you. The minimal friction was enough to turn you on, but not enough to satisfy you.

Two of his slick fingertips pressed gently into you and finally provided you with some relief. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your teeth dug into your bottom lip as he worked them into you. The pleasure was almost too much, almost enough to make you close your eyes again but you knew he would stop if you did. The fabric seemed to irritate him with how constricting it was so he was quick to pull it apart at the buttons over your crotch and expose your pussy to the cool air. Before you could react, his two fingers sunk back into you and prodded around to find the spot he knew would make you fall apart.

The tips of his long fingers rocked against the spongy spot inside you, and he knew he was there. He knew you so well by now. The way your moans raised an octave, the way your jaw dropped, the way you began to meet his thrusts.. “Oh- right there, huh? There you go, baby…” 

“Jase.. Oh..I-”

“I know, hun. You’re okay.. Feels good don’t it?” He pulled you closer into him and began kissing at your ear. The image of the two of you in the mirror only added to the pleasure you felt. You hadn’t really watched yourself have sex before, but the image of him wrapped around you with his fingers working in and out of your dripping hole was another level of intimate. Sexy, too. 

Jason’s fingers slipped out of you and he shimmied backwards so he could slip his boxers off. His cock was an angry red, dripping and begging to be inside you. 

“Wanna watch, Jase..please?”, your words brought a dirty smirk to his face. 

“That’s the plan, hun.. C’mere” he pulled you on top of his strong thighs and you barely had time to register his tip prodding your folds before he was lowering you down onto him. It felt so good to finally be full of him. His cock was so thick, so warm, and you began to pant as you situated yourself in an attempt to get all of him inside you. 

Your eyes were glued to the sight beneath you, and you hadn’t even bothered looking in the mirror yet. A quick slap to your swollen clit grabbed your attention, though.

“Look, baby..”, Jason murmured while his hips slowly worked his cock into you. “Takin’ me so good.. S’meant for you, isnt it?”

You felt like you were in a daze as you took in the sight. The way your head was nodding at his words barely even registered in your brain. His blunt nails were digging into your thighs and he didn’t let up when you began grinding and bouncing on top of him. Your wetness began to gather at the base of his cock. A few drops fell onto the bed beneath you and the sounds it made as his cock plunged into you were filthy. It felt like you were being attacked from all of the sensations. You felt his hands on you as they roamed your skin and tugged at your nipples. His grunts and murmured praise went right to your pussy and you clenched around him at every sound he made. The bedroom smelled like sex, and you felt a sense of pride knowing that the love and desire you two shared did that. 

“Fuck- that’s it, honey.. Want to watch you- hmm- cum on my cock.. I know you’re almost there, sweet girl…” and it was true. The way you breath hitched and your pussy spasmed was nothing new to him. Jason knew your body inside and out, and he knew you were about to have a fucking intense orgasm. The pads of his fingers pressed firmly against your clit and began to rub tiny circles against it. It only took you showing him how you take care of yourself one time for him to learn how you liked it- how you needed it.

Your words began to bleed into moans and grunts as you climbed the hill of pleasure. You knew it would be a fast descent. 

“Oh, Jase.. I-... It’s so… fuck!”, it was no use. He kept his rhythm as you continued to babble and you could barely make out his strangled grunts through your moans. 

Your pussy milked his cock as you tipped over the edge of your orgasm. It was intense- toes curling, eyes closing, mind numbing… all of the best things about an orgasm taken to the max. 

Jason pulled you down more forcefully as he thrusted a few more times before burying himself deep in you. The throbbing of his cock was palpable and you whimpered at the sight of his balls tensing and releasing with each spurt of cum that painted your walls. Within seconds, it had began to leak out of you. 

Jason shuddered when he pulled his spent cock out of you, and wasted no time pulling you back so that he could cradle you in his arms. One of your hands grabbed at his forearm while the other took hold of his bicep, keeping him close. Your breath came out in short pants as you came down from the high of your orgasm. Jason planted kisses all over your face and hair while his own chest heaved. 

“That was… it was fucking good, babe.” you murmured with a dopey smile.

“Was all you, hun. All you..” he breathed. 

thanks for reading!

[calzone-d]

"Wait, don't go, please..." with Jason

oooh me likey

this turned out way longer than i originally planned lol, my apologies.

tw: talks of cheating, crying, mild panic

read more here!

—-

It was late. Way past your bedtime. A frantic phone call from Jason is actually what woke you up.

“Y/N.. I cant- I need.. can you come over? please? I don’t..”

you could hear the tremor in his voice over the phone, and although he’s stopped calling and texting as much as usual, you still felt inclined to answer his call. regardless of how irritated you were with him, the sound of him in distress still had you jumping out of bed and into your car.

after letting yourself in, you found him on the couch. his hair was a mess, his eyes wide with panic as he bit at his nails. it had been longer than usual since you’ve seen him, but he didn’t look like he was doing well.

your situation-ship had been neglected lately. as jason got over his split with olivia, the two of you rekindled your old romance. you’d spent most nights tucked into his side on his couch, a kid in each of your arms with a movie on in the background. you thought things were going well, but jason had gotten distant and you saw pictures online of him with a girl so you pulled back too.

it didn’t last long. the kids asked him everyday where you were, and eventually you ended up confronting him. after a long talk once the kids went to bed, you both ended up frustrated. he tried justifying his actions by explaining how he felt too “fucked up” for you, and you were frustrated because you had just gotten back to how things used to be.

texts were sent here and there but you hadn’t seen him for the better part of the last three months.

that’s why you were so surprised at the way his shoulders seemed to relax at the sight of you.

“i-i fucked up.” his voice sounded choked.

you immediately thought the worse. did something happen with olivia? did he get his fling pregnant?

“wh-“

“i got in too deep with her.. it was just supposed to be.. a thing. but then i felt worse about myself, a-and you, and-“

“jason, you’re spiraling.”

he let out a breath at your words and rubbed at his eyes.

“I was happy with what we had.. you’re a grown adult who decided to see someone else. it’s fine, that’s your decision, it’s just still an open wound okay?”

“y/n, it was just supposed to be a quick fuck, I-“

“please don’t tell me that” you said with sad eyes. “are the kids okay?”

“they’re fine” you nodded and bent down to pick your purse off the floor where you’d put it.

“wha- where are you going?”

“home, jase. i really don’t want to hear the details of you finding someone younger to fuck and being surprised when she wants to be your next wife. i-… that was.. yeah. i’m goin’ home.”

his voice trembled as he choked out,” wait, don’t go.. please.. i-“

when you turned to look at him his eyes were glossy and his jaw was clenched. all you could do was stare, it hurt too much to comfort him.

“it’s done, okay? it’s fucking over!” his voice sounded defensive when you eyeballed the way his hands trembled. before you could make another move he let out a choked sob. as hurt as you were there’s no chance you’d just walk away from him in that state.

your purse hit his floor again and you sighed as you sat next to him. he seemed to relax the tiniest bit when you toed off your shoes and brought a warm hand to his back. he gasped for air as he choked on another sob.

“please don’t go..we- we need you! fuck, i need you.”

“if you want me to stay you’re going to have to start talkin’, jase.”

“i fucked up,” he cried into his hands. “i didn’t mean to fuck up what we had.. it wasn’t my plan! i just- i had started drinking and going out more and began feeling worse and worse and i-“ he shook his head and his voice was tight, “i don’t know what part of me thought that would make things better.”

you silently nodded and let him take his time.

“i was- we were drunk at a party, and by the time i was sober enough to tell you i felt even worse.. i panicked and pulled away. it was a mistake, and i’m sorry..”

before you could respond the sound of little feet padding against the hardwood stopped you.

“daddy?”, daisy’s voice was small and her eyebrows were furrowed. she looked just like him.

she climbed on the couch beside him and got on her knees to wrap her arms around his shoulders as best as she could, “why’re you crying?”

he quickly wiped at his tears and gave her a watery chuckle. “it’s adult stuff, sweetheart. m’okay.”

as soon as he reassured her she was crawling over jason’s lap, knees digging into his thighs as she made her way to you.

“did you come to make daddy stop crying?” she looked up at you with wide eyes and tucked herself into you.

“yeah, honey. he’s okay. why are you still up, daisy girl?”

“heard daddy crying..” her words trailed off with a yawn. “wanna go back to bed now.. daddy’s okay?”

jason’s eyes had begun tearing up again as he watched the two of you.

you stood with her in your arms and carried her back to her bedroom. “he’s gonna be just fine, dais. promise”

her nod against you was weak and as soon as her head hit the pillow she was nodding off.

jason had seemed to calm down a bit by the time you came back to the couch. he was still sniffling, and still shaking but his breathing began to even out again.

“i’m so sorry, y/n.. fuck” he whispered

“jase, i can’t- i can’t keep doing this. hurts too much.. because i didn’t stop loving you for a second, you know? like.. was i doing something wrong? did- did i overstep with the kids?”

“no! not at all, you.. you’re their second mom at this point. they’re always askin’ for you.. when something goes wrong you’re they’re go-to.”

a hint of a smile found its way to your face.

“you didn’t do a single thing wrong, y/n. s’all me. and i don’t expect anything from you, please know that. i-im just so fucking sorry.” his shaky hands reached to wipe at his eyes again.

your hand moved towards the hem of his t-shirt to fiddle with it as you mulled his words over.

“just hurt.. seein’ her all over you. felt like it was supposed to be me, y’know?”

“it was.. is. she.. fuck, y/n where do i even start. she was put off by the fact that the kids even exist. a-and god forbid i ask her to not post on social media about us. it.. kinda felt like being with olivia again when things went to shit. was fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“should’ve just told me from the get go and we could’ve worked past it.”

“i’m so fuckin’ sorry i didn’t, hun..”

“i.. i know. i cant just move past it right now.. but… just give me some time okay? m’not quitting on you, okay?”

his eyes were wide. he wasn’t expecting you to be willing to try again at all, he just couldn’t live being on bad terms.

“y-yeah, of course. just tell me what you need me to do and it’s done, i swear.”

“let’s talk boundaries.. have you broken things off?”

“i did it a week ago. been callin’ nonstop but i haven’t answered,” he leaned forward to get his phone off the table. “here, you can even look.”

you gave the screen a quick glance, seeing that all the calls from her had gone unanswered and it did put you at ease.

a soft hum left your lips, “m’kay..”. jason’s eyes were so heavy and you could tell he needed sleep.

“look, let’s talk about it more tomorrow, okay?”, he nodded but his face contorted at the thought of you leaving now.

before he could open his mouth you interrupted, “i’ll stay, jase. no funny business though.”

he finally chuckled. “okay, but can you spoon me?” his voice was soft and quiet. “s’been a long night.”

“only for you. c’mon, let’s go check on the kids first.”

—

thanks for reading!

[calzone-d]

thinking about a mr jason sudeikis who doesn’t wear boxers underneath his pj pants 🫨

it just be ALL OUT THERE!!! the thang would be thangin and all for YOU??!

[calzone-d]

Thinking about Jason giving reader so much praise and he knows you love it

foaming at the mouth as usual.. i think this was intended to be smutty? hope so anon bc that’s where i went <3 this is nsfw you’ve been warned

also thank you guys for being so patient w me, summer semester SUCKS, but this time next year i’ll be a nurse 😛

okay you can find my masterlist here!

—-

“mm- fuck, jase..”

your voice was low and breathy as you sunk down on his cock. his hands held you tight at your waist, jaw slacked and panting before he was even fully sheathed inside you.

as always, it was a stretch. you couldn’t just slam right down on him, even after all the foreplay in the world. and just as he always did, jason pulled you in and kissed you hard. it was all tongue and moans, with one of his large hands moving to the back of your neck.

as soon as he could, he grabbed your hair and gently tugged your head back to give his lips a fair shot at your neck.

“mmm, that’s it, honey. s’my girl.. look at you- shit.”

his words were strained and followed by a grunt as you sunk further down.

jason’s lips scattered wet kisses down the side of your neck, he was doing all he could to please you. his hands returned to your waist once he could tell you were getting antsy. you bounced as softly as you could, already feeling so full.

“y’take it so fuckin’ well, sweetheart..”

your pussy clenched and you whimpered at his words. he sat upwards in a way that allowed him to lean forward and tongue at the swell of your breasts.

at this angle, your clit barely grazed his pubic bone the further down you bounced. he could tell what you were trying to do when you began rocking forward every couple bounces, just feeling the tip of his cock prod against your walls.

jason’s thumb found your clit when you had almost made it all the way down. it seemed as if he was becoming just as desperate as you, if not more.

“all the way, sweetheart.. all of it.. mhmm.”

he hummed contently once you put all of your weight onto his pelvis, and placed his feet flat on the mattress behind you.

“jase.. it’s- oh fuck.”

his knees were now close enough beside you that you could put your hands on them and hold some of your weight there.

“s’all yours, hun..”, his voice was tight and scratchy.

all of your work was done, he decided for you, as he grabbed a tight hold of your waist. you didn’t have to move a muscle as he bounced you on top of him and met your pussy with his hips.

he was practically using you like a toy, and you snuck a hand down to your clit while you watched his bearded jaw clench.

the sounds echoing through the room were just crude, but it only added to the experience. you were so wet and it had all dripped down to the base of his cock, making for an even hotter sight as you cast your eyes downward.

jason’s thrusts became more erratic and desperate and you could tell he was nearing his orgasm as fast as you approached yours.

“jase, i- oh my god..”

“i know, hun.. -fuck m’right there baby. take it.. shit.”

his words trailed off into an open mouthed groan as he held you down on his cock and filled you up. the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you sent you right over the edge, making you squirm and buck your hips on top of him.

“shit, sweetheart…” he murmured when he pulled you off and flipped you around so that you were lying down.

you couldn’t even reply as you tried catching your breath, and when he came back with the washcloth he had an amused look on his face.

before you could ask any questions, his fingers were prodding at your oversensitive folds. he softly gathered his thick cum and fingered it back into you.

“took all of it, didn’t you hun?”

your cheeky smile encouraged him to throw the washcloth aside and settle between your quivering thighs for more.

[calzone-d]

Jason eating reader out hcs?? Please I'm begging x

YAAAA

find my masterlist here.

inbox is always open! thanks @carmylasso for your help and inspo as always <3

nsfw below the cut

so much teasing!! spends so much time kissing your thighs and nipping at them until you’re panting

only goes RIGHT IN if it’s a quickie situation or after looots of build up

the first time he keeps pulling away like “s’it okay? does it feel okay?” because even though he’s more confident than ted, he still gets caught up in the worries of you not enjoying yourself

usually starts off slow and lazy, licking up your slit to taste you and always moaning about how good you taste.

when he gets to your clit at first, he’s really sloppy with it just because he loves hearing you whine. he eventually gets right into the flicking and sucking though. that’s when he’s a man on a mission.

loves holding the backs of your thighs to spread your legs and prop them up a lil, and def leaves little marks from where his fingernails dug into you

when he uses his fingers to spread you open, he’ll slowly stroke up and down your lips just tease you even more.

and by the time he slips a finger in you’re SOAKED.

i feel like he’d really get into it, even more if it’s been a while or if he’s had some drinks.

rutting into the bed while he licks into you, drool running down and dripping onto the sheets because he would give no fucks.

the vibrations of his moans into your pussy would feel fucking fantastic i’m sure

sometimes it’s like he’s trying to see how far he can push his tongue into you because “just wanna really taste you, honey”

“taste so fuckin’ good, fuck. been thinking about this all day, baby.”

you’d be the reason he keeps his hair at a grab-able length. refuses to cut it too short.

sometimes he’d want to eat you from behind, hellbent on grabbing your hips and using them to hold you to his mouth.

the beard burn!! courtesy of @carmylasso

scratchy and rough against the backs of your thighs. the perfect souvenir.

loves getting to bury his face in your asscheeks. truly his favorite pillows.

also loves pulling away just a teensy bit to see you chase his mouth with your hips. esp whenever he needs that lil confidence boost.

also a huge fan of you riding his face!!!

“c’mere.. sit on my face sweet girl.. get comfy.”

likes it with you facing the headboard so he can peek up at you

he can so easily reach up and pinch at your nipples too!

running a hand up and down your belly in the slower moments while he looks up at you

definitely doesn’t just stare at you the whole time though, spends a solid 85% of it with his eyes clamped shut so he can truly focus.

you go through the whole “i’m worried about crushing you” fiasco but he is not having it, he wants all of your weight on him.

wants you literally sitting on his face, no half ass-ing it.

holds you so tight through your orgasm, and works you through it like a real man

soft kisses and kitten licks to help you ride it all the way out

so satisfying for him to pull away after he’s done to see your pussy all swollen and pink and glistening.

the sight is honestly enough to get him going again most of the time

i think that he’d always want to go down on you at some point during sex if it’s not a quickie

even if it’s the foreplay and you don’t actually orgasm from it, he’d have to get a taste

he’d also love the intimacy of it, which is something i imagine he fucking needs.

thanks for reading!

[calzone-d]

Love your writing, how do you think jason would react to pierced nipples on his partner????

i think jason would be super into it! just super into tits overall, but if yours were pierced it would just be something else for him to toy with.

something else to tease you with and gauge your reactions. seeing the barbells through thin bras and shirts would drive him INSANE.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

In what other ways does MC rub off on Daisy? 🥹

You were cross-legged on the couch, laptop open and glasses perched on your nose when you scanned through emails. These were the ones that already made it past Mia.

Jason was a few spots down, Daisy up against him as she stared at the televsion. The Little Mermaid, the rare Disney movie she’d never watched before you moved in.

Now, she stared up at Ariel and mouthed along.

You’d first watched it with her on a Friday night, popcorn on the couch with Jason in another bonding experiment as you attempted to intertwine your lives even more.

She saw the way you loved it, decided that if you thought it was a good movie, it was good enough for her. Which is why, almost a month later, you were all in the living room watching the same movie for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jason S (6:32pm): I might rip my eyeballs out

He smirked from the far end of the couch when your phone lit up.

Y/N L/N (6:32pm): Me too, it's a good movie but not THAT good

Jason S (6:33pm): This is all your fault

Y/N L/N (6:33pm): How????!!!

Y/N L/N (6:33pm): Because I said I like it?

Jason S (6:34pm): Uh yeah

Jason S (6:34pm): If you said you liked meth she'd do it

Jason S (6:34pm): You're the coolest "not a mom" she's ever had

Y/N L/N (6:34pm): Would also hope I'm the only?

Jason S (6:35pm): That too

You rolled your eyes at him and clicked your phone to sleep. When he tucked her in that night, she looked up at the two of you with big puppy-eyes.

"Maybe tomorrow night we can watch The Little Mermaid again?"

"Or we could watch a movie we haven't seen," Jason suggested.

"Y/N," she looked up at you a few feet behind him, still standing in the doorway as you settled into this new life where you were now included in the bedtime routine. "What do you want to watch?"

"Hmm," you thought on it. "101 Dalmatians?"

"Perfect!" She grinned. "And then maybe The Little Mermaid the next night."

Jason laughed, maybe, we'll see. He pulled the door shut after he turned off the light, an expectant look in your direction once it was just the two of you in the hallway.

"You ruined my life."

"I also made it a lot better," you challenged.

He deflated, knew you were right and apparently, didn't feel like arguing. "Touché," he laughed. "Touché."

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter eleven

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

December 8th, 2018

O’Halloran’s was exactly the place you expected the Graduate Cinema Studies end of semester party to be held. December had hit the city in full force--Christmas lights strung up behind the bar when Sophie smiled and turned around with your drink in hand. 

“You just let me know when you wanna go over there,” she smiled, handing your drink over before knocking hers against it. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you said, a sip before Max clicked his phone off and put it in his pocket. 

“Where are we going?”

“Over to the booth where Sudeikis is,” Sophie smirked. 

“We’re not,” you said quickly. “I told you guys--it might be over.”

“Respectfully,” Max began, still sipping a glass of red wine. It’s winter now, he’d said with a smile when you’d all walked in. It’s pinot noir season. “I don’t believe you that it might be over.”

“Just because nothing’s happened in a few weeks doesn’t mean it’s over,” Sophie agreed.

“I know,” you shrugged. “But it’s felt weird ever since the Jennie thing. And we’ve been so busy at work with the script and the fact that we actually finished on time is insane.”

“When do you guys hand it in again?” Naomi asked.

“Well, I guess Jason handed in everything up until episode seven just for fun--so eight, nine, and ten are due before Christmas.”

“I cannot believe you’re writing on a TV show,” Sophie smiled. “Our little best friend is so legit,” she smiled at Max and Naomi. 

They’d been plenty proud of you, plenty excited to celebrate your wins and let you pout about Jason when needed. Which is why, tonight of all nights, a night where you should be able to just get slightly wasted with your cohort in celebration of another semester down, one to go, was not the night to talk about Jason.

“We’ve all accomplished a lot this semester,” you shifted focus. 

“Speaking of,” Naomi said with a smile, her eyes fluttered between the three of you. “I actually wanted to let you guys know that I submitted a film to a student showcase at Cannes.”

“What?” You reached and held onto her wrist. “Naomi--are you kidding? That’s amazing!”

“Why are we just hearing about this now?” Max asked with a smile, he wrapped his arm around her when Sophie’s mouth hung open in shock. 

“Did you already win every award? Cause you’re so fucking talented?” 

“No, no,” Naomi laughed at your friend. “I talked with Laurie about it and she really loved a project I did with my internship this semester and I kind of figured--you know--why not? Worst case scenario I don’t get picked. Not a huge deal.”

“Was it the doc you did on Black neighborhoods in New York and the impacts of gentrification? The one that blew everyone away?” Max nodded, knowing the answer to his own question.

Naomi’s documentary had blown everyone away. She smiled and nodded, slightly uncomfortable being the center of attention but still beaming. Max took off to get her another drink, there’s so much to celebrate! 

You greeted other classmates and chatted with your friends about holiday plans. Traveling, time off, people were just excited to leave the city for more than a few hours. You were excited to visit family back home, but you also knew that the NBC Internship only granted you two weeks off for Christmas and New Year’s. 

So you’d return to New York much sooner than everyone else, back to your tiny apartment and your subway rides to midtown. 

O’Halloran’s was packed with people from your department. Professors and adjuncts, clubs and cliques that mingled in the basement bar only two blocks from campus. Eventually, Jason and Will found their way into your circle when Max and another classmate, Hannah, joked with Naomi about her Cannes submission. 

“You’ll have stress dreams until you hear back,” Max nodded confidently. “Nightmares, honestly.”

“You’ll probably dream that they’ll show the wrong film to all of those people. Your worst film ever,” Hannah smiled. 

Naomi giggled but winced at the thought. 

“You submitted something to Cannes?” Jason asked her with a smile. “Naomi, that's super awesome.”

“Thanks,” she smiled up at him. “Yeah--I just submitted so who knows when I’ll hear back.”

“How’s it feel to have such a successful bunch of students?” Sophie pushed her glass towards his, taking a sip when she smiled up at him. 

“Yeah--no, you guys are definitely something,” he nodded. “Setting a high bar for the department.”

“What are they doing?” Will asked, another beer for he and Jason when he came back from the bar. 

“We’re just amazing,” Sophie shrugged at Will. “Impressive, dedicated, talented--”

“Humble,” you teased your friend. Jason laughed and caught your eye for a second. 

You wondered what he thought of the space between you. Not just the few feet inside O'Halloran's, but the metaphorical step back that both of you had taken. Did he notice? Did he care?

You would have turned to him, asked how he was doing or what he’d been up to lately--but his eyebrows were furrowed when he looked down at his phone, after a second he looked up at you and said quietly: “NBC’s ordering full production of season one.”

You blinked a few times, sure you hadn’t heard him right over the laughter in the bar and the thump of the music that sputtered through old speakers overhead. “What?”

“Charlie Hanson--the guy who hired me--just emailed,” he flipped his phone around and showed you the words. 

We’re loving the script, full production, ten episodes, next year--contracts to start on season two. 

You held his hands in yours to steady his phone, read it three times and ignored the way your heartbeat climbed at the feeling of his skin against yours. You looked up at him quickly, he smiled and waited for you to say something.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Holy fucking shit,” he nodded. “I uh--should I text everyone?”

“Yes!” 

Now Sophie and Max were aware that something was happening. The other conversations seemed to die down and they all turned to see what had you and Jason so excited. 

“We get to keep our jobs,” Jason looked up at Will, who looked down at you. 

“The show you’re writing?”

“NBC wants full production starting next year,” you smiled. 

“Holy shit!” Sophie smiled, reaching forward to hug you. Max and Naomi did too, Jason snuck away from the group and typed on his phone. You let Will get you another drink, laughed when Max said he’d audition for a role just to get the up close and personal experience of your script. 

After another few minutes Jason returned, his text came through on your phone and the group chat lit up with excitement. Emojis and gifs and confetti that splashed onto your screen brought a smile to your face.

But he stood with Will and Jesse and then Laurie came by and congratulated Naomi on her submission. He didn’t come back over to you and when the bar started to thin out you let your eyes scan the room. 

“Are you looking for me?” His voice was behind you, he scribbled on a receipt on the bar, handed it back to the bartender before he smiled. 

“No,” you lied. “Sophie--but--if I know her she’s outside smoking a joint with Max already.”

He laughed at that, put his credit card back in his wallet and then slid it into his pocket. 

“Are you heading out?”

“I am,” he nodded. “It’s almost midnight and while you guys are all young enough to go to another bar, I don’t have that in me anymore.”

You smiled, wondered for a second what he’d say if you asked him to come home with you. 

“But--uh--congrats, obviously, with the script!”

“You too!”

“We’ve got our hands full now--I’m sure we’ll get more info from Charlie. Talk more about contracts and stuff for season two.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, disappointed that he’d chosen to reroute the conversation towards work rather than play. 

“And, we can talk more about this, but--I can talk with them about paying you. You’re part of the team and it’s not fair for you to not get a contract for another season. So, yeah.”

“Oh,” you said, caught off guard a little. “Yeah--that’s great, I appreciate that.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “But--yeah--I don’t want to keep you from Max and Sophie and--the joint, honestly.”

You laughed at his joke, nodded up at him. “I’ll see you next week?”

He nodded slowly, looked like he had something else to say. But then he just smiled. “You will.”

December 15th, 2018

Lower Manhattan buzzed on a Wednesday night later that month when you stepped into the warm reprieve of a quiet Starbucks near campus.

A latte on your way home from your internship before a once-monthly club meeting--one that mostly consisted of coffee and gossip instead of watching and reviewing a classic film. 

You’d spent the day as a writers assistant on the other show you’d been assigned to. You enjoyed the people you were with but it was no secret that your days with Jason’s writers room were preferred. 

You stood in line for a second, scanned the room when you noticed a face in the corner. Will—professor Will—with someone who looked a lot like Jason from behind. 

You leaned to the left, tried to sneak a peek. He moved, turned slightly to the right and you shirked behind the man in front of you.

Shit. It was him. Will would recognize you and Jason definitely would. Which meant the best option was to stop over and say hi.

You ordered and then did it, walked up as Jason lifted his palms.

“--with Y/N, but that’s what I told her, obviously. She’s stubborn.”

“Have you ever—“

“Hi,” you cut Will off awkwardly, they both turned and smiled. The looks in their eyes told you they worried you’d heard more than you had. Far enough away, enough rustling behind the counter as espresso was ground and drinks were poured.

“Hey,” Jason looked up at you, Will nodded and smiled, let his eyes dance between the two of you like he was just as curious as you were about how this would unfold. 

“Sorry to interrupt, I was just saying hi.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Will finally spoke, leaned back in his chair and looked amused. 

You laughed a little at him, offered an awkward grin.

“Where are you headed?” Jason asked, less nervous than Will now.

“Club meeting—coming from 30 Rock.”

“I bet it doesn’t get old saying that,” Will laughed.

“Never will,” you admitted, a nod when your name was called. They followed your sight line to the barista who pushed a cup forward in the designated pick up spot. “But, uh, I’m headed that way. Just thought I recognized the two of you hiding here in the corner.”

Jason laughed but nodded. “Yeah—I’ll talk to you later, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, a finger in his direction when you took a step back. “Tomorrow.”

You turned, sipped your latte when you turned left out the door and wondered what that was. Your name, you’d heard it. Stubborn.

Not wrong, but in what context? You probably should have been more nervous than you were. In any other circumstance you’d worry that they’d been talking negatively about you. Your fear of being annoying or young would creep in and you’d have hurried away much quicker.

But instead, you walked slowly past their window, flicked your hair over your shoulder and caught his eyes briefly through the glass.

He smiled, you kept going and the question settled in the city around you: was this more than sex? 

The next week Jason’s boss came for a meeting with the whole writer’s room. Questions were answered about production and contract delivery dates and Dan pulled a bottle of champagne from the mini fridge when Charlie said it was time to celebrate. 

There were higher ups you didn’t even know in attendance, you clinked glasses with someone in the C-Suite and made sure to soak it all in: your first TV show. And you hadn’t even graduated. 

Eventually Charlie and the other execs left, Jason told the team he wanted to have a Christmas party at his place to celebrate before the holiday break and Jennie offered to bring a veggie platter. 

You packed up your laptop and Javier teased her: “Just don’t bring celery, okay? No one likes that shit.”

“I like celery,” Jennie gave him the finger but laughed, waving over her shoulder when she headed for the elevator with Dan. Jason was scanning over emails on his laptop, ignoring the farewells they called from the hallway when it was just the two of you left in the room. 

You held your champagne in hand, one final sip now that your bag was over your shoulder and you were ready to go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He looked up, noticed everyone else was gone. “Yes--sorry,” he laughed. “I was just catching up on something.”

“You’re good.”

He watched you for a second, his own glass of champagne was beside his computer on the conference table. “I know we haven’t hung out in a while--I just, we’ve been busy, you know.”

Hung out. Huh. Interesting thing to call it.

“Yeah,” you nodded, waving him off like it was nothing. “No--it’s been a really wild few weeks.”

“I talked to Charlie, too--offline, I mean--about your contract. He totally agreed, said they can work something out to make sure you’re paid equally as the others. So--I’ll uh--let you know if he needs anything from you.”

“Oh, awesome, thanks.”

“And, not for nothing, but when Will and I were at the Starbucks near Luft, we--uh--we weren’t talking about like, us.”

You nodded, the corner of your mouth pulled up. “I figured. I mean--if I’m not allowed to talk to my friends about it then I figured you’re not talking to yours.”

He laughed at that, leaned back in his chair and shook his head. You could have sworn you saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah--no, I haven’t told him. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“So what brought me into the scope of conversation?”

He smiled, amused by your curiosity. “I was actually just telling him about the script and how bringing you on board was a good call.”

“Glad you still think that,” you smiled. “Seeing as now we’ve got another season to write.”

He nodded thoughtfully at that, almost like he hadn’t let himself get carried away yet in thoughts of what that meant for you two. He smirked a little when he looked up to meet your eyes. “I’m not mad about that.”

“Me neither,” you said quietly. 

He watched you again for a second. He stood and closed his laptop. For a moment you contemplated stepping forward, pulling him close by his tie or feeling his tongue between your legs.

But you couldn’t read minds and the way your stomach still flipped when he smiled kind of freaked you out. He could acknowledge that it had happened now. Used a plural pronoun to refer to the sex or the sneaking around or the something. Why was he choosing now to pull back?

You smiled over your shoulder when you turned to leave. “Goodnight, Jason.”

“Goodnight,” he called. 

December 20th, 2018

Late. On purpose. 

His apartment was nicer than you expected. A two-bed in Brooklyn with festive lights wrapped around the fake tree in the living room. Dan was already there when you arrived, a drink in hand as he stood from the sofa to greet you. His girlfriend was also in attendance, she complimented the black skirt you wore and laughed about holiday outfits: pantyhose are the worst, glad we finally don’t have to wear them anymore. 

Classic Christmas tunes hummed from a speaker and his furniture was nice--the kind a real adult has. End tables and a fireplace and hardwood floors that your grandmother would call charming. 

It took everything in you to not stare too hard at the pictures he had on the walls. Women--his mom and his sister, decidedly, based on the fact that they all had the same smile. 

Javier had opened the door, said Jason was somewhere inside when you hung your coat on the rack nearby. 

He found you in the kitchen when you were getting a drink, hoping that the night would feel like hanging out with friends. “Hey,” he said. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“Just got here,” you smiled. “Javier found me standing at the door.”

“Outside?” He looked you up and down, didn’t hide the way his eyes sweeped your figure when his brows arched. 

“I had a jacket,” you said. It’s not like your blouse had that deep of a neckline, but you were also glad he noticed. 

“And now you have a drink,” he nodded. 

“And now I’m gonna go talk to everyone else out there,” you nodded towards the living room and smiled. 

“Good plan,” he nodded, his tone playful. “I’ll find you later.”

You laughed a little, nodded dramatically as if you were in on the joke: “I’m sure you will!”

So he eyed you for a while from across the room when you joked with Dan’s girlfriend about being the only intern. Victoria was friendly and smiled when Jennie joined the two of you by the tree. 

Jennie asked about holiday plans and empathized with your disdain for the upcoming travel. She sipped a martini but managed to trap you in a hallway as you returned from the bathroom later in the evening.

“Hey,” she cooed, an arm around your shoulders as she fell into step with you. “I wanted to chat with you for a second.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You offered a small smile, confused by the way she suddenly acted like your closest pal. 

“I might be totally crazy, but, uh—I just wanted to ask you—there’s nothing going on between you and Jason, right?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, a quick but awkward laugh when your brain panicked. Deny, lie, shake your head or something!!!!!

“Oh my god, no!” You shook your head quickly, more laughter to really sell it. 

She laughed too, nodded with you like it was all just a joke. “Okay, yeah—no, I figured! I just, I know you guys are close and I almost felt like I interrupted something on Halloween.” 

“No, no,” you shook your head seriously. “You didn’t—Jennie, I’m really sorry you thought that. I was there because I was freaked out about an assignment and wanted to hand it in and get it over with. That was just me being obnoxious about school stuff.”

“No, yeah, I get it,” she nodded, still smiling like this had somehow been a moment of bonding.

You almost felt guilty for lying, for how easily she believed your story. But then she smiled a little less, almost like she was nervous and suddenly shy. 

“Do you know—uh—is he seeing anyone?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ when your eyebrows rose, amused by the plot twist you should have seen coming. 

“Oh, uh—I don’t think he is.” 

“Okay—I might, I don’t know, ask him for coffee, then.”

You nodded. “Okay, yeah!”

She laughed and let you head for the bathroom, you giggled to yourself and typed a text to Jason.

Y/N L/N (9:35pm): Remind me to tell you something later.

You dried your hands on the towel, opened the door to find him on the other side. 

“It’s weird to wait to use the bathroom at your own house,” he commented, a genuine nod when he shared this with you.

“I just texted you,” you laughed, a glance over his shoulder to see if the coast was clear. You tugged him inside the bathroom and shut the door. 

He laughed but then looked down at you, eager to know why you needed privacy. 

“I just talked to Jennie and—just, remind me to tell you about it later. I can’t tell you now.”

“What?” He frowned. “You have to tell me!”

“I can’t!” You shrugged. “It’d be weird. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

He narrowed his eyes for a second, then nodded. “Fine.”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you nodded, hand on the door as you took a few steps backwards. He smiled down at you, the one he usually gave you before he closed the space between you. 

So you went back out to the kitchen and refilled your drink, found Javier in the living room with his wife and chatted about their baby.

Eventually someone pulled out a joint, people moved towards the balcony and when you stood in the doorway, Jennie took a puff.

She handed it to Dan who took one and then handed it to you. Laughter and distraction when you brought it up to your lips.

“We’re not gonna get in trouble for supplying our intern with drugs, right?” Jennie’s laughter broke through the group, Jason turned to meet your eyes when you held your breath.

You widened your eyes at him, testing your ability to telepathically communicate. At this point in the arc of your relationship (however it would be defined), you figured he had to at least know what you were thinking a little. 

He laughed, had your back: “she’s good, she’s fine!”

You exhaled the hit you’d taken, giggled a little when he winked at you in the darkness of night. Distraction again soon, more laughter as everyone went around and recounted their favorite moment in the script for season one, hugs and congratulations when Javier and his wife called for an Uber. 

Everyone moved inside for another drink, but one by one coats were fetched and people waved. You looked at the clock on the wall, 12:09am. 

“Well, Y/N—I know we’re going to different neighborhoods but do you want to split an uber?”

Jennie’s offer was sweet. And if you weren’t buzzed and moderately high you would have taken her up on it, probably.

Jason watched you from the kitchen as he put an appetizer in the fridge. 

“I actually just called one, 8 minutes away—I’m going to a friend’s place.”

Not true. She nodded, stood from the couch and smiled. “Oh, what I’d give to be in my twenties and have the night only begin at midnight.”

Jason smirked at that to himself, you caught it but nodded to Jennie when she opened the app on her phone.

“Alright,” she said. “Well, in that case—two minutes away!”

She walked towards the front door and found her jacket, pulled it on over her sweater and smiled at both of you. 

“Congratulations on all of this, guys—we’re kicking a lot of ass!”

“We are,” Jason agreed. 

She hesitated by the door, you watched her smile at Jason but pretended to be busy on your phone—as if you weren’t watching their interaction somewhat territorially. 

“I’ll see you after the holidays.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She slipped out the door and waved to you over her shoulder. Once it was shut, you hurried over to the window by the couch. You had to climb onto it to get a better view, your heels dangled off the edge when you peered out and into the street. 

“Dude,” you turned around and smirked at Jason. 

“How high are you?” He laughed a little, a few steps towards you to follow your line of sight. 

“Jennie’s into you.”

“What?” He pulled his head back in confusion. “How do you know that?”

“She cornered me near the bathroom and asked if there was something between us!”

“Us?” His brows rose on his face, a lazy finger between both of your chests when he came to stand behind you.

“Mhm,” you nodded but turned to look out the window again. You watched her slide into the backseat of a gray Toyota. “And I reassured her that there’s nothing between us and as it turns out,” you turned around now and sat on the couch, confident that she’d be speeding away from his apartment before you finished your sentence. “She wants to ask you on a date.”

He laughed now, looked down at you from his spot in the middle of his living room. You might have been under the influence, but you could tell he was smiling at you, not your story.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are we not going to acknowledge that Jennie is into you and I totally knew it.”

He shook his head, laughed at your excited tone. “So did you actually call an uber or was that your attempt to cockblock me and Jennie?”

“I was not cockblocking,” you made a face, stood from the couch and walked over to the bowl of chips that was still on the counter. “I was merely waiting for a second alone with you to give you fair warning, so you’re welcome. This is what I had to tell you earlier.”

He watched you the entire time: watched as you walked by, reached a hand for a chip and then bit into it. You shrugged, the truth spilled out into the air between you: “But I’m not actually going to a friend’s, I just didn’t want to share an uber with her and listen to her talk about you.”

“Ah,” he nodded, coming over to stand beside you at his island. “Jealousy strikes.”

You coughed at his words, swallowed your bite and stared up at him. “I’m not jealous.”

“No?” He smirked.

“No,” you said quickly, confidently. “You’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want to sleep with or date whoever you want to date and I have no thoughts on the matter,” you rambled a little. 

Alright, fine, you were definitely high. And apparently this high version of you liked to lie through her teeth. You looked up at him and tried to ignore the way he smiled down at you. 

“You’re baked.”

“I am,” you agreed, a laugh when he went over to the cupboard and filled a glass with water from the sink. 

“Here.”

One sip. Quiet. 

“Are you gonna get coffee with her?”

He smiled, leaned on the island and watched as you set it down. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I just don’t--I’m not into her, I guess.”

“Hmm.”

He smirked up at you. 

“Good.”

“Good?”

“That’d be weird,” you said honestly, the words coming out with much less of a filter than usual. 

“Because you’re jealous?” He tested again.

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “I can think you’re cute and not be jealous that some woman wants to have coffee with you.”

“You think I’m cute?” He asked playfully, another glance up at you when you took another handful of chips. 

“Plenty of people are cute,” you dismissed him, a roll of your eyes when you realized you’d said too much. “You’re not special.”

“Got it,” he laughed again. “Just clarifying, you know--seeing as you get incredibly wet for me whenever I touch you.”

Your heart was in your throat, the weed made everything move slower when he took a step around the island and watched you bite into another chip. You were nervous, turned on by the way he smirked at you and teased you with his words. 

“And seeing as you just totally faked calling an uber to be the last one at my house.”

Caught. You swallowed, giggled a little when you shrugged, pushing yourself up to sit on his counter. 

“I know how to get what I want.”

“Oh, I know,” he nodded, putting a hand on either side of your thighs, leaning closer to you. “If you weren’t good at getting what you wanted we wouldn’t be crossing so many lines.”

Okay. He was high too. Or drunk, or something. You kept your eyes on his for a moment. There was no way that he was sober after what you counted to be three drinks and two hits. And he certainly wouldn’t be casually acknowledging the lines crossed, if he wasn’t, right?

“Speaking of that, by the way--”

“Us having sex?”

“Yeah,” he laughed at your bluntness.

At least now you could say it outloud. 

“I’m sorry that I kind of--I don’t know--pulled back after Halloween. I just--I could tell you were upset and I’ve been stressed with the script and work and…just the whole time in general about accidentally making you uncomfortable at all because this is so--”

He dropped your gaze, looked down at the floor when he searched for the word. 

“Risky?”

He let a huff of air out through his nose, amused at your word choice when he looked up at you. “Yeah.”

“You mean sleeping with a student isn’t all fun and games?”

“I mean, most of it is,” he flirted. “But it’s also hard to figure out which lines can be crossed and which ones can’t.”

“I see,” you nodded. “Ground rules. Right. What do you think they should be?”

He chuckled a little at that, pushed his lips out in thought and let his head sway from side to side. You tried to not be turned on. 

“Well, if we can help ourselves, limited sex on campus.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

“We definitely need to keep acting like student and professor even if that line’s a little blurred already.”

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

He rolled his eyes at that but you kept talking.

“We’ll keep it fun, try to keep it from getting too messy.”

He smirked now, like that’s what he was hoping you’d say. “It is fun.”

You hopped off the counter, took his hand and pulled him down the hall and into his bedroom. You kissed him and giggled when he tossed your blouse across the room, pressing his lips to your skin when you crawled into bed.

“This is a nice mattress,” you said honestly, he smiled down at you when he hovered above. 

“I think so too.”

You reached up and started at the top button, making your way down as you spoke. 

“I wasn’t trying to cockblock,” you said. “But I see why it looks that way.”

“It looks incredibly like cockblocking,” he chided. 

“I didn’t stay here tonight to get some action just like you didn’t walk me home that night to get to a blow job.”

“So you did stay here to get laid?” He smirked when you finished the last button, a subtle admission when you giggled again.

You pushed it off, reached for his belt buckle. 

No noise requirements this time, meaning you were free to be as loud as you wanted when he thrusted into you. His bed creaked a little when you straddled him and held onto the headboard.

His hands reached around to hold onto your ass when you moved against him. You floated into an orgasm, comfortable and content atop the sheets when you looked over at him.

“I should go,” you said, a regretful smile when you pulled away.

“You--uh--don’t have to,” he said quickly, almost like the words tumbled out of his mouth accidentally. “I mean, if you wanted to stay—that’s fine.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes, a lilt of hesitation in your words: “So much for not crossing a line.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, a laugh before he confessed: “crossing a line was like—September.”

So you stayed.

December 25th, 2018

Dan Simons (10:42am): Merry Christmas everyone!

Jennie Whang (10:46am): Merry merry!

Y/N L/N (11:01am): Merry Christmas! Hope y’all have a great day!

Javier Perez (11:12am): Y/N with the midwestern talk! Have a great day guys, Merry Christmas!

Jason Sudeikis (11:23am): Merry Christmas!

January 3rd, 2019

To: Y/N L/N, Jennie Whang, Javier Perez, Dan Simons

From: Jason Sudeikis

Subject: return

Hi guys, happy 2019!

We’re set to head back to 30 Rock next week for brainstorms of season 2. Talked with Charlie and the others, contracts will be there for us first week and any questions can go directly to him. Let me know if you guys need anything but otherwise, looking forward to diving in on Tuesday!

JS

__

Prof. Jason Sudeikis, PhD

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

Office hours M/W 10am-12pm or by appointment

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90��@shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease @sillyeverydays

AN: OKAY!!!!!! CHAPTER 11, YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. Next chappie is A NEW SEMESTER, A NEW YEAR, and THE YEAR MC WILL GRADUATE. What could possible happen (or go wrong?) in the next few months??????

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter nine

You tried to forget it happened. Not because you wanted to, but honestly because you knew replaying it over and over in your head wasn’t sustainable.

You could barely focus at work, barely concentrate on what he was saying in your seminar on Friday night. Most of your thoughts led back to the way his hand gripped your throat or his lips grazed your skin. 

Not super compatible for being in the same room as him for strictly professional reasons. 

And until a week had passed, until you had seen him twice and could confirm it wasn’t a fever dream or substance induced hallucination, you kept your mouth shut. 

But when you were seated at a booth in O’Halloran’s on a Saturday night next to Naomi, you sipped your cocktail and braced for their reactions.

“So—”

Max’s eyes darted up to you when he shoved a nacho in his mouth. They were hanging on every word of yours lately, desperate for updates or developments.

“The cake is baked.”

Sophie nearly spit out her drink, more from shock than laughter at the code phrase you’d all agreed on. 

“Baked?” Naomi confirmed.

“Baked.”

“When?” Sophie leaned forward, a quick scan of the room to make sure you were in the clear.

“Am I entitled to any level of privacy?” You rolled your eyes at her prying. 

“No,” Naomi laughed. “If you’re baking cakes with Sudeikis then we expect a full run down.”

“I thought Sudeikis was the cake,” Max questioned. 

“Okay anyway,” you redirected. “It was last week. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh my god!” Sophie squealed, almost thrashing in her seat. “Where? In his office? Did you go to his house?! Was it a booty call?!”

“Doesn’t sound like we’re talking about cake anymore,” you made a face. They settled, you sipped your drink and looked around again. The last thing you needed was anyone overhearing the scandalous conversation and thinly veiled code that was already failing. 

“Okay,” Naomi nodded, her hands around her drink. “You just tell us what you feel comfortable sharing.”

“I already did,” you teased, a smirk on your face when they all groaned.

“Was it good?” Sophie leaned in again and smiled. “Everything you hoped it would be?”

You nodded, unable to hide the excitement. “And then some.”

“Holy fuck,” Max exhaled. “I almost didn’t think you’d have the balls.”

“Me neither,” you admitted with a laugh. They raised their glasses to that, you told them they were still sworn to secrecy, said how Jason himself had said you couldn’t talk about it. 

You trusted your friends and knew that if you kept them in the loop, you’d be able to control their level of knowledge and talking more than if you tried to ice them out. An easy decision. 

“So,” Sophie said casually, trying to mask her continued digging. “Was this a one time cake or will there be more?”

“No clue,” you answered honestly. “We didn’t really talk a whole lot about it other than, you know, agreeing to not really talk about it.”

“It’ll happen again,” Max reassured.

You laughed, sipped your drink when you commented: “I wouldn’t be mad about that.”

You bumped into him outside the elevator on Wednesday morning when you showed up at 30 Rock. Strangers between you inside, the button illuminated for your floor when he met your eyes in the mirrored-reflection of the doors. A smile, the same one from his office that day when his lips pulled up at the corner.

You swore you felt him looking at you when Jennie talked through an idea and when Dan scribbled notes.

In your seminar on Friday you sat back at your desk, stared at your computer screen and tried to ignore Rachel Norton. She was sweet, she was fine--but on a Friday night after what had been the longest week of the semester, listening to her humble brag about her internship project wasn’t easy. 

You’d broken up into small groups, shared the outlines of the independent projects you’d be working on before graduation, given and received feedback all before Jason made his way over to your circle. 

Max looked up at him and smiled. “You’ll be happy to hear that we all have flawless projects!”

“Really?” Jason crossed his arms and smiled--almost like he didn’t believe it--sleeves rolled up just the right amount. “All three of you?”

“Well, I mean, we all know Y/N is flawless,” Max smirked up at you. 

“He means my outline,” you looked up at Jason quickly, made a mental note to beat the shit out of Max later. “It’s pretty good.”

“I’m sure it is,” Jason nodded. “Rachel--how’s yours?”

She smiled when he looked down at her. “It’s going really well so far--my supervisor at my internship is really excited about it.”

“Great--you can definitely email me if you want any feedback.” 

With that he headed towards another small group. Rachel slid her desk back over to where it was at the start of class, started typing on her laptop as she scrolled through emails. 

“Friendly reminder to not be a fucking dick,” you hissed at Max. 

“Oh relax,” he waved you off. “I didn’t say we all know your tits are flawless.”

“Max,” you eyed him seriously, a genuine no nonsense look on your face when the clock ticked towards the end of class. Jason clapped his hands and everyone sprung into action, see you next week. 

“Okay, okay,” he relented. “I’m sorry, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Thank you,” you nodded. “Not that hard.”

You slipped your laptop into your bag, slung it over your shoulder when Max packed up his belongings. “Want to go find Sophie? I think she’s in the library.”

You glanced over your shoulder quickly. You hadn’t been planning on staying after or trying to find a second alone with him. You were tired enough to go straight home and sleep until Monday morning.

Jason looked up from his spot behind the podium, a small smile in your direction when Max saw him over your shoulder. 

“Oh,” he fluttered, “I see you have a prior engagement.” 

“I don’t--I mean--not that I know of, but--”

“Oh whatever,” he waved you off. “Have fun,” he said, followed by an immediate whisper and he passed you to leave: “wear protection.” 

You bit back a laugh when Max waved to the rest of the class. “See you all whenever!”

Everyone filed out quickly, better things to do on a Friday night than wait around to talk shop with your professor. He smiled a little when the last two students filed out. 

“I wasn’t--uh, I hope you’re not ditching plans with Max.”

“No,” you shook your head, a few steps closer when he shut his laptop. “My Friday night plans entail passing out before ten, probably.”

“Well,” he laughed. “Then I certainly don’t want to keep you. I was just gonna see if you wanted to work on the script. Sometimes after class I wind down by dreaming up plot points we’’ probably never use. But, no pressure, if you’re not up for it.”

You laughed at his joke. “I think I can stay awake for that.” 

So you walked with him back to his office, noticed the way the leaves were changing colors to welcome Fall in the city. Luft was quiet--as it always was--but he still shut the door behind you.

“Long week?” He asked with a smirk when you yawned, pulling your computer out and setting up shop.

“I don’t know why but I’m exhausted,” you confessed. 

He shrugged, “classes, internship--that can be plenty.”

The rush that comes when you’re having a secret affair with your professor. 

You nodded, unsure if the computer lab sex was on the docket for tonight’s conversation. You opened up the script documents, scanned through the notes that had been added by the others.

“I don’t know why Javier is so dedicated to the birthday party scene,” Jason laughed, reviewing the same things on his laptop only a few feet away. 

“I like it,” you backed up your co-worker, a young dad who lived in Chelsea. He was funny and kind and made you feel welcome on your first day, don’t worry, he’d said, your first gig is always the scariest. 

“You like it?”

“I do,” you laughed. “Is that hard to believe?”

“Seeing as you one time suggested an evil twin, I guess it checks out.”

“I was running on fumes that night,” you said with a quick eye roll. His teasing wasn’t completely out of the norm--at this point it felt on brand for him to poke fun at you in good nature. 

What did catch you off guard, though, was the night he referenced. The night you kissed him. Three weeks ago. You looked up at him, he was already watching you. 

“Running on fumes,” he nodded, a tiny laugh when he looked back at his computer. 

“Obviously making bad decisions,” you glanced up at him, the hint of a smirk threatening to overcome.

“Right,” he nodded, taking the bait when he smiled. “Obviously.”

He broke his eyes away from yours, looked back to his laptop for a moment until he said: “So—you didn’t—uh—tell your friends, about us, did you?”

You swallowed the heat that tried to creep up to your cheeks. Eyes on your laptop, you chanced a look over at him. 

He was watching, waiting, actually. 

You shook your head.

“No.”

He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, stared at the ceiling as he spoke. “Yeah—okay—good, you know, it’s just—”

You smiled at the way he rambled, touched by the nervousness in his voice.

“You could lose your job,” you said with a shrug. 

He nodded quickly, relieved you’d beat him to the punch. “Right.”

You felt a wave of confidence when you noticed how flustered he seemed. Like the guilt was eating away at him, like he wanted to do it again but felt conflicted about the very thought.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, standing from your chair and taking a few steps into the center of the room. 

He watched you, a finger trailed over his lips when he swiveled in his chair to angle himself towards you.

“It’s okay if you want to do it again,” you shrugged.

He pushed his lips out in thought, nodded slowly when his eyes met yours. “I do, but—“

“But what?” You asked quickly, a smirk when he laughed a little.

“But I don’t know if my office on campus is the best location.”

You laughed at that, shrugged innocently. “More private than a computer lab.”

Now he stood, rounded the corner of his desk as he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and nodded. “Fair, but--you also seemed to have some trouble keeping quiet the other night.”

He was close now, you could feel the warmth from his body when he stood squarely in front of you. “And I didn’t even get to use my tongue that much.”

You smirked up at him, felt a shiver down your spine at the thought of that. 

“So the assumption is that you’re good enough with your tongue that I would have a harder time being quiet,” you clarified, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” he nodded.

Quiet for a second. You watched each other, felt the air in the room stiffen when you reached forward and slipped a finger between the buttons on his shirt. 

“I certainly don’t want you to lose your job,” you said quietly. “But I do want to see how much you’re exaggerating.”

He laughed a little, took a step forward that forced you to back up into his desk. He leaned in, pressed his mouth to yours and let his hands wander down to your hips before they wrapped around your waist.

You giggled when you came into contact with the dark wood of the desk, hopped up to sit on top of it when he gave you a boost.

He kissed down your neck to your shoulder, exposed only when he tugged at the collar of your shirt to reveal more skin. 

His fingers found the button of your jeans, leaving a trail of goosebumps when you wiggled out of them and left them, in a pile, on the patterned rug.

He was eager and greedy when his hands roamed over the rest of you, a finger or two before he let his tongue trace your center and flick away at your clit. You reached for fistfuls of his hair, his hand snaked up to your throat and the thought fluttered across your mind as you stared at the ceiling in pleasure: maybe he wasn’t exaggerating. 

He sucked and lapped and you kept your mouth closed but hummed in ecstasy, he smirked when you whispered his name and said what, you assumed, was music to his ears: I’m close.

He kissed you when it was over, went back to sit at his desk when you slid back into your jeans and smiled. 

His lips and cheeks were pink from the excitement. “We could—uh—grab a drink, or food, only if you wanted. You know, talk about the script some more and work over dinner or whatever.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Okay. Where?”

“Could just do O’Halloran’s,” he shrugged, straightening the tie around his neck when he looked up at you. “Pretty inconspicuous.”

Not exactly a date location, but you’d take it. You followed him down the side stairs and out to the street, the evening had already faded to dusk. You both ordered beers and he smiled at you from across the booth. 

“How do you like NBC so far?”

“I like it a lot,” you nodded. “It’s insanely busy, but I’m learning a ton and I’m glad to be with your writer’s room.”

“We’re glad to have you,” he nodded genuinely. 

“This wasn’t a Cannes situation, was it?”

“Hmm?” His brow furrowed, a laugh threatened to escape his lips. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“So it was?” You gasped, reached across and poked him in the arm. “I’m only there because of favoritism?”

“Favoritism would be if I offered it to you now,” he leaned forward and spoke quietly, a moment of truth. “But since I already offered it to you and then slept with you, that’s totally different.”

“Got it,” you nodded, a playful eye roll when he smiled.

“And Cannes wasn’t favoritism either,” he made a face, leaned back and took a sip of beer. “You deserved to go. You’re a good student and you’re a hard worker.”

You let your eyebrows raise, he’d never complimented you so casually. 

“And, I don’t know, I know you wanted to go—”

He was trailing off now, looked around the bar shyly before letting his eyes settle back on you.

You leaned in and whispered. “And a little bit of favoritism?”

“A little,” he finally confessed. “But don’t broadcast that.” 

You nodded, looked around the room and wondered if anyone noticed the two of you in the booth in the back. 

You’d been here with him before, looking over your script that one time when you wondered if he did anything like this with anyone else. 

“There’s a lot I’m not broadcasting lately.”

He shrugged, a metaphorical tip of his hat. “There’s a lot we shouldn’t be broadcasting.”

October 12th, 2018 

To: Jason Sudeikis

From: Y/N L/N

Subject: RE: review

October 12th, 2018 - 8:48am

Hi,

Attached is my midterm submission! I know you said I could just turn in the scene in ep. 3 but I also added some of my random ideas for further arcs and plots. Let me know what you think!

Best, 

Y/N L/N

MFA Candidate

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

(212-555-8495)

To: Y/N L/N 

From: Jason Sudeikis

Subject: review

October 12th, 2018 - 10:31am

Hi,

Thanks for submitting. Hoping to have grades back by next Friday but I’ll keep you posted. 

JS

__

Prof. Jason Sudeikis, PhD

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

Office hours T/TH 5-7pm or by appointment

October 20th, 2018

You found yourself in a tiny basement pub on West 36th when Jennie smiled and pushed her vodka soda to the middle of the table. 

“Well--cheers to hopefully getting a full season,” she nodded, a collective sigh of relief from the whole bunch when you all leaned back in your seats. Friday--the end of the week and hopefully good news before the weekend was over. 

Jason had explained it to you early on. He’d gotten hired to develop and write the pilot and first few episodes. Those were due to the studio for review to ensure they wanted to pursue a whole season and to move forward with pre-production. And then, if everything went well, they’d cast the characters and build the set and the ideas in your head would end up on TV. 

“This is your first studio review, Y/N, right?” Javier asked when Dan looked over the menu. 

You’d all agreed to happy hour at first, but by 7pm when you packed up and decided you couldn’t stay all night, Jason suggested a bar down the street with the best wings in Midtown. 

“It is,” you nodded, taking a sip of your gin and tonic before admitting: “I don’t know how terrified to be.”

“Well, I mean, if they don’t like our script we’re all out of a job,” Jason shrugged casually, pulling laughter from the rest of the team. 

“You’re in the best position,” Jennie told you, a small smile on her face that felt just a tad condescending. “Since you’re just an intern you’d just get placed on a different show, probably.”

You nodded, pushed your lips out in thought at her comment. True, but it still stung a little. 

“We’ve done all we can do,” Dan said. “We wrote good stuff, delivered it on time.”

“Now we sit back and try to not lose our shit all weekend,” Javier teased. 

You usually avoided asking questions that made it obvious how green you were, if only to avoid the look on Jennie’s face that appeared when you asked: “So--how will they tell us?” 

Jason leaned forward and rolled his eyes at your question. “They’ll wait until the last minute--so, like, Sunday at 10pm.”

“Email, usually--we’ll get it from Charlie, the head of streaming content development,” Javier added.

“And they just say yes or no?”

Jason shrugged. “Basically--in more words than that.”

They all cracked jokes after you ordered food, another round by the time plates were brought to your table. You laughed about the late nights you’d spent in the conference room only a few blocks away, tired and hungry and deliriously covered in post-it notes with ideas. 

And yet, you knew that if you never got to sit in front of that white board again and listen to Jason talk about what he saw for the characters he’d dreamed up a few years back, you’d be more upset than you imagined. 

The bar got busier as the night went on, and by the third round Javier had gotten talked into doing his Robert De Niro impression. You beelined for the bar when you realized that everyone’s glass was empty, stood with your credit card between your fingers when he came up behind you.

“Hey,” he said over the noise of the room. “Everything okay?”

You turned around and looked up at him. “Yeah,” you smiled. Had he come over here just to check on you? “Just getting everyone another round.”

“No you’re not,” he made a face, elbowed you out of the way and took out his own wallet. “I already feel bad you’re not getting paid--there’s no way I’m gonna let you buy us all drinks, too.”

You laughed a little, noticed how close he was and how he made no move to add distance between you. 

“It’s not your fault they won’t pay me!”

“It’s not,” he agreed, a smirk on his lips when the bartender showed up. He rattled off the orders, looked over his shoulder to check everything against the cups still in hand at the table where the rest of them still sat. 

“What are you up to this weekend?” He asked suddenly, an elbow on the bar as you waited for the drinks.

He’d never asked something like that before, never asked much about your life outside of the classroom or the conference table with water bottles and plants. Sometimes he’d ask about your friends or make small talk--but this felt more curious. 

“Checking my phone every five minutes to hear from you,” you said, a quick clarification of your joke when you felt like it fell short. “Because of the script review, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Hopefully they don’t wait until the eleventh hour, but--that’s typically how these things go.”

“Great,” you said sarcastically. “So I’ll keep busy by cleaning my apartment or rewatching The Office for the millionth time.”

“Ahh,” he nodded slowly now, let a smile appear by the end of his sentence. “I just finished my millionth--now I’m on a million and one.”

“Hey,” Jennie appeared on the other side of him. He turned to see her, less close now and you were acutely aware. “I hope you didn’t just pay for a whole round for us!”

He smiled down at her. “I did--only because this one was going to do it.”

“Aw,” Jennie looked at you, another stupid smile. “No way the intern can buy drinks!”

“Just being friendly,” you said, hoping the words sounded nicer than they did in your head. 

You didn’t hate Jennie. You didn’t love her, either. You tolerated her and respected her because she was a good writer and as much as you wanted to feel petty, something kept reminding you that women in this industry needed to stick together. 

Maybe because Anne May Walter said it a thousand times in your undergrad lecture. 

There was also the knowledge that whatever had happened--past tense, seeing as you had no idea how long any of this would last--between you and Jason didn’t give you any type of claim or stake over his rolled sleeves and glasses and the beard he sometimes grew in the winter. 

So you tried to ignore the way she smiled up at him and you headed back for the table, sliding in next to Dan when he looked up at you. 

“Alright Y/N,” he said, turning to see you with Javier by his side. “First script review, first delivery to a studio. How soul crushing is all of this to someone who's still young and excited about work?”

“Only mildly soul crushing,” you nodded playfully. “But you might want to ask me again on Monday.”

“They’ve got to pick it up, right?” Javier asked. “I mean, it’s good! It’s a good fucking script.”

“Of course we think that,” Dan shrugged. 

“If they don’t pick it up I’m gonna buy some land up in New Hampshire and start a farm,” Javier muttered. 

“A weed farm?” Jason came back to the table with Jennie in tow--they delivered the drinks to praise from the others.

“Maybe, if I’m being honest,” Javier lifted his glass to take a sip. 

The night went on like that for a while, the tab was closed out around 11:30 and you followed them down the street. Javier and Jennie took off towards the river for a different train, Dan called for an uber. Everybody waved and shouted into the night: hopefully we’ll see each other next week!

You followed Jason down the stairs to the 33rd Street station and swiped your metrocard behind him. Quiet for a moment when you checked your phone. 

Sophie Mendez (11:12pm): Have fun at drinks tonight, hope you get some action!!!

Max Prescott (11:14pm): Yes girl get some action! Also say hi to Sudeikis.

Naomi Halter (11:27pm): Are we still doing lunch tomorrow?

Sophie Mendez (11:31pm): For sure!

“Sorry,” you clicked it shut when the train approached, slipped it into the pocket of your coat and looked up at him. 

“You’re good,” he shook his head, the hint of a smile when the doors parted. You followed him inside, sat at the end of an empty car when he asked: “so--you don’t love Jennie, huh?”

“What?” You laughed a little. “No--she’s fine.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “You literally bolted back to the table when she came up to the bar.”

You ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, caught. “In my defense,” you started, “I don’t love being referred to as the intern all the time.”

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk. “I can understand that. Do you--I don’t know--want me to say something to her?”

“No,” you laughed quickly. “Are you kidding? I don’t need my advisor to come in and save the day.”

“Well if it’s going to make you calm down with the dirty looks--”

“I do not give her dirty looks!”

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he teased. 

“She’s fine. I just--” You shrugged. Think she likes you? I’m jealous because she’s a more age appropriate option for you and I hope you don’t realize that one day? “She’s fine.”

“So,” he nodded seriously. “You won’t be cast in our show ever because you’re a horrible actor.”

“Oh whatever,” you leaned over and bumped your shoulder into his with a laugh. “Leave me alone.”

“Hey—by the way, the brainstorm page you submitted in your midterm has some good stuff.”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “Nothing too cliche or stupid?”

“I mean it,” he said, hoping to convince you. “I’m glad you’re working with us on this.”

“Me too,” you said with a nod. 

You updated him on Sophie’s internship, laughed about a viral video when the train approached your stop.

You looked up, reached to hold the silver railing nearby. “This is me,” you said.

His eyes darted up to the electronic sign, the orange dot jumped a few spaces right. When he brought his eyes back to yours, he shrugged: “I can walk with you—you know, it’s late.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, teasing. “Super late.”

He let out a scoff. “Are you implying I’m just trying to come over?” 

“Always trying to spend more time with me,” you flirted, a narrowing of your eyes when he laughed. 

“Just let me walk you home, alright?”

He was beside you now, stepping off the train and smiling when you turned left for the exit. Up to street level as a breeze blew through the October night. 

He told you more about his time writing for a sitcom in his thirties, mentioned a woman he lived with and you clenched your jaw to avoid asking questions. 

You slowed in front of your building, stopping outside the main door and let him look up at the brick facade when he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“It’s starting to look familiar,” he joked, a subtle nod to the pattern that was beginning to form. 

“You’re allowed inside, you know,” you smiled at him over your shoulder, reaching into your bag to find your keys. 

He stammered a little in the dark: “Yeah, no, I know—“

He followed you in the door and up the stairs. Beige carpet that needed to be replaced in the halls, stock paintings on the wall beside ferns. He smirked when you slowed outside your door, slid the key in and then pushed it open.

“A studio—on my budget,” you joked, shrugged your work tote off and dropped it on the kitchen counter. Granite, at least, that was nice.

A bathroom, a tiny hallway and a bedroom at the far end. A tiny living room space connected to the kitchen. 

He spun around slowly and took it in. “I mean this in a completely not weird and non-sexual way but—this is exactly what I pictured.”

You laughed, rolled your eyes when he turned around and smiled at his own joke. A few steps forward. “Now you’re thinking about having sex with me?”

“Not at all,” he shook his head, swallowing down the desire that was almost visible on his face.

“No?” You pushed again, another step forward until you reached forward to let your fingers reach forward and graze over his belt.

He chuckled a little, a soft muted one that broke the silence in the kitchen. 

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admitted. 

“Why’s that?”

“Cause now I know how hot it is to hear you moan my name.”

“Hmm,” you nodded, hands finding his belt again. “Well, you do a lot of focusing on me, I’ve noticed.”

He watched you with raised eyebrows, swallowed again and let out a sigh when you sunk down onto your knees, pulling his pants down to allow better access. 

“So I figured it’s time for me to focus on you.”

“Sure—yeah,” he huffed, a glance up to the ceiling in pleasure when your mouth wrapped around him.

Maybe he’d come here for this, or maybe he just wanted to walk you home. You didn’t really know and didn’t really care when his hands pulled your hair away from your face and he watched you with hungry eyes. 

You liked the way your name sounded in his mouth, sucked until his knees buckled and he held into the counter behind him.

He helped you up, kissed you on the mouth but pulled back: “It’s late, so, I probably should go.”

“You should,” you agreed. “A lot to not think about this weekend.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me thinking about you or referencing the script…” He smirked, tugged his pants up and buckled his belt. 

“Both,” you shrugged, stepping towards the door. You opened it, watched as he stepped back into the hallway. “You can find your way out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, let his finger do a circle in the air. “Like I said, s’getting familiar.”

“Right,” you smiled.

“Night,” he nodded, a backwards step before he turned.

“Night,” you said, and this time, you watched him walk away. 

To: Y/N L/N, Jennie Whang, Javier Perez, Dan Simons

From: Jason Sudeikis

Subject: good news

October 22, 2018 - 3:02pm

Hi all, happy Sunday!

Coming with good news! NBC is ordering a full season. They asked for another delivery of a 10 episode season by the end of the year with possibility of full production and filming to follow. Definitely a step in the right direction. See you all on Monday.

JS

__

Prof. Jason Sudeikis, PhD

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

Office hours T/TH 5-7pm or by appointment

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tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90 @shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease

AN: CHAPTER NINE holy shit. The script got picked up so.....what do we think this means for our pals?!?!?!? A lot of you already think Sophie/Max/Naomi are gonna spill the beans and I love it!!!! Hope you like chappie 9 friends!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter eight

September 23rd, 2018

Showing up at 30 Rock after your rendez-vous in his office was a little awkward. 

Awkward in the sense that he smiled when you walked in the room and that (right there!), had you hoping and praying that this wasn’t a one time thing. Your class on Friday was normal--Max complained to Jason about the people he worked with and other students recounted their first few weeks at various internship locations. 

You caught his eye a few times but always made sure to be the first to look away. You couldn’t make it that easy.

Now, you tapped your pen against your small kitchen table, looked down at the page in front of you. Sophie had long given up at this point, she snapped her gum obnoxiously and scrolled on her phone when you looked up at her.

“What?” She asked, uninterested.

You almost felt guilty. Not that your sexual escapades were Sophie’s business or something of the sort—but holding the recent development in had led to an increase in headaches and nausea and truthfully, you were worried that if you didn’t tell someone, you’d die of a stress heart attack or some other similar ailment. 

And if what happened was a one-off, one-time thing--if it faded into a memory sooner rather than later--you at least wanted someone else to be able to vouch on your deathbed that you had, finally, done it.

The excitement of it had you dreaming about him even more. If he was that good with his fingers, imagine the ecstasy that would come if you actually slept with him. You’d already dropped your coffee on the subway just thinking about it, and now you spent nights imagining what it would be like to feel his body against yours.

Apparently Sophie could tell that whatever was going through your brain was important, her eyes narrowed and she asked again: “what?”

“You have to be calm, okay?”

She made a face at that. One that quickly morphed from confusion to excitement. “What? Oh my god, what?”

“I think I want to have sex with Jason.”

“Shut up, oh my god!” Sophie squealed, reaching forward and slapping her hands wildly against your side. 

“Stop it, ouch, ouch!” You pulled away and shot her a look. 

“You’re going to fuck our professor,” she hissed in excitement, “oh my god this is so cool.”

“Okay don’t bring yourself into it,” you made a face.

“When is it gonna happen?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, biting back a laugh. “I’m not planning it out or something, but, let‘s just say—it’s, uh, elevated.”

“Elevated?” She practically purred. “How so?”

“Okay you are way too into this,” you let out a snort of a laugh. 

“Let me live!” She whined, “just spit it out already.”

You hesitated, smirked a little just to piss her off. “He’s—uh—he’s pretty good with his fingers.”

“Max is going to die,” she said seriously, her face still in shock when her mouth hung open.

“No, Sophie, no—we can’t tell them.” 

“What?!” She screeched. “You’re finally fucking him and you’re gonna be all coy about it?”

“We aren’t fucking,” you rolled your eyes. Technicalities didn’t matter. 

She rolled her eyes right back. “Finger fucking,” she shrugged.

“Sophie—“ you warned.

“Come on,” she begged. “You’re going to say all of this and not give me any details?”

“Only if you promise to keep your mouth shut, okay? And I mean shut--I don’t want to tell Max or Naomi yet because I have no idea what any of this means.”

She held up three fingers, an eager grin stretched from ear to ear. “Girl Scout’s Honor.”

You laughed at that--it was hard to imagine Sophie of all people doing good in her community. 

Anyway.

“I ended up in his office after class one night--”

“Your Friday class?” She clarified.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “That’s the only class I have with him.”

“Was this just a few days ago?”

“Two Fridays ago,” you told her, a little annoyed now at the level of detail she needed. “I’ll explain it if you just let me finish.”

She nodded, still desperate to hear more.

“So I was there one night--we were working on the script, and--I don’t know--I ended up kissing him and then I immediately left because it was weird and awkward and he seemed freaked out.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“I know--so then he emails me about having to do the first review for the internship seminar, and so a few days later I go to his office and literally right when I walked in he apologized and said he crossed a line--”

“I thought you kissed him?”

“I did,” you waved her off. “But he was being professional and addressing it, I guess.”

“Okay,” she urged you to go on. 

“So then--I don’t know--I was there again and we acknowledged that it happened and he made a comment that there’s always been something there or whatever and we made out and he--”

Her eyes went wide as she waited for you to spit it out.

“--fingered me and it was the greatest thing ever but I need you to be cool about this because I’m also kind of losing my shit over it.”

She clamped her mouth shut, eyes still wide when she nodded, slowly. She was letting it sink in. 

“Okay but I also need you to say something,” you watched her.

“I am so incredibly proud of you,” she said seriously. 

“Oh god,” you laughed. She sprung up from her seat and danced around your kitchen. 

“You’re fucking Jason!”

“I don’t know if present tense is accurate.”

“But you said you want to.”

“Yeah but--we hooked up once. I have no clue if anything more will come of it.”

“But you would like for more to come of it?” She asked in confirmation.

A shrug of your shoulders. A siren outside your apartment. “Yeah.”

She smiled again, poured you a glass of wine and promised to keep her mouth shut that night when Max and Naomi came over for dinner. But after a bottle of Cab Sauv and a joint that Max brought, your guard came down and it felt good to hear the way they squealed in excitement. 

With the joint in his mouth as he sat on your windowsill, you refilled Naomi’s wine. 

“So--I have some news.”

“News?” Max looked up. “What kind?”

“The Sudeikis kind,” Sophie giggled. 

He coughed out of surprise and from the weed. “Sudeikis news? This early in the semester?!”

“And it’s big,” Sophie pranced towards him. 

Naomi sipped her wine and waited skeptically. You took a deep breath. 

“We hooked up in his office the other day and I have no clue if it will happen again but please keep this information to yourselves.”

Okay, so maybe Sophie had convinced you to share it with them. At least that way you have more people to weigh in on it, she’d shrugged, listing off the endless reasons you should just get it over with already.

You wouldn’t admit it to her, but you figured that hearing Max and Naomi’s thoughts would better equip you to navigate whatever would come of this. Not that you didn’t value Sophie’s input, but you knew her penchant for racy and risque behavior slanted her opinion. 

They both stared back at you with shock on their faces.

“P in the V hooked up?” Max asked.

You laughed at his wording. “No.”

“Finger in the V,” Sophie wiggled her eyebrows. 

You shot her a glance--shut it--but Max let out a victory screech. 

“Fucking finally!”

The smile on Naomi’s face didn’t falter, but she was the first to deliver a dose of rational thinking. “Have you guys talked about it at all?”

“No,” you returned to your spot on your couch. “I saw him at work and there was some flirty energy, but, overall, I have no clue what it means or if it will continue. But--” you held up a finger to cut Max off, “I figured I should clue you all in seeing as I’ve been harassed endlessly for years.”

“You manifested this,” Max laughed. “A dream during first year about sucking his dick and now you actually hooked up with him. It’s honestly impressive.”

“Do you want something to come of it?” Naomi still questioned. 

You shrugged, smiled a little when they all waited for your answer. 

“I don’t want either of us to get in trouble--which is why you guys need to be quiet.”

“Of course,” Max nodded. “We’ll only gossip about it to each other.”

Naomi laughed, raised her glass in the air. “To responsibly doing risky things.”

That was something you could drink to.

October 2nd, 2018

You had no idea if you’d see Jason on Thursday evening when you walked into the atrium space in the Student Center. Now that she’d seen her iconic summer course—Sex in Media—through, the department had decided to put together a retirement party for Dr. Marie DeSpoza. 

With Max on your left and Naomi on your right, you turned around after you got a glass of wine in a clear plastic cup from the dining hall worker dressed in all black.

“There are way more people here than I expected,” Max surveyed the evening. 

“Maybe I won’t even have to worry about seeing you know who,” you said quietly. 

“There’s no way you’ll be that lucky,” Sophie teased.

So far they’d all handled it pretty well. The questions died down after a few days and when you promised to keep them in the loop if there were any new developments, they seemed to go back to their usual teasing ways. 

You hadn’t had any alone time with Jason since that day in his office. Someone in the writer’s room was always lurking and in an attempt to let the commotion die down, you didn’t wait around for him after class. 

He certainly didn’t seem upset or bothered or angry. You could tell by the way he looked at you that he was trying to wait you out. Who was going to make the next move?

Which is why, when you spotted him across the room with Will and Laurie, you decided that taking the high road is the way you were going to play it. 

Your friends followed behind when you walked up, waved at Laurie in greeting when she smiled. 

“Hello, hello!” She greeted, offering Naomi a sideways hug as your two groups merged into one. “Welcome to NYU’s fanciest party!”

You laughed at her joke, lifted your plastic cup in jest. “I’m not ashamed to say we’re here for the free wine.”

“We are too,” Will confessed with a smile. 

Jason caught your eye, a smile when Sophie laughed with Will about the budget for events like these. A renowned professor, you’d think they’d at least have champagne!

You mingled for a while like that--didn’t address him unless it was in the group context--and wondered what coursed through his mind knowing he’d reduced you to a puddle with his fingers alone. 

He didn’t avoid your gaze. If anything, you felt his eyes more than usual--a welcomed reminder that you weren’t the only one playing the game.

There were appetizers and a cake that was cut into slices, Thank you Dr. DeSpoza in purple frosting and some balloons that matched the university’s theme. You were excited to see Anne May Walter, caught up with her about your internship until Jason interrupted to tell her how you’d held her letter of recommendation over his head. You were quick to call him out.

“He took his sweet time writing that for me,” you told Anne. 

“But she knew it was coming.”

“Being aware of deadlines is a skill that will serve her well,” Anne joked with Jason. “Especially in this industry. And as her advisor, you of all people should respect that!”

“I do respect it,” he nodded at you. “She’s continued to impress me.”

You ignored what you hoped was a double meaning in his words and shrugged, not afraid to mess with him. “The letter was decent.” 

Anne smiled but got tugged away by Dean Vasquez. For a moment you thought he’d stay and talk to you, but then he turned to Will when he overheard his name. 

You danced around each other like that for a while, fully aware of the energy between you but unwilling to acknowledge it.

Until he was nowhere to be found and a text came across your screen. 

Jason Sudeikis (9:14pm): Merrill Computer Lab - 210

You scanned the room. Sophie was refilling her glass, Max was with a friend from his internship listening to Naomi and Dr. DeSpoza laugh about camera angles and blooper reels. So you let your feet carry you down the hall, around the corner, and up one flight of stairs. 

It was quiet--the building seemed empty save for the retirement party and late night students grabbing a snack. 

You knew where the computer lab was but had no idea why he was there or why he’d texted you. A janitor at the far end of the hall with a vacuum, the red light by the doorknob told you the room was locked.

You looked through the tiny window, saw him inside in the dark, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. You pulled your ID card from the back of yours and swiped to gain entrance. 

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, and again you let it shut quietly behind you, a smile when it latched into place. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, watching as you approached. 

“How’s it going?”

“Good, yeah--just haven’t had a minute alone with you in a while.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, unsure where he was going. The more he said things like that the more you wanted to be alone with him.

“Are we, uh--are we okay?” His eyebrows were furrowed, forehead wrinkled as he waited for your answer. 

You nodded, tried to tone down the excitement and also hide the way he made your cheeks flush in the dark room. “Yeah, yes--are you okay?”

He laughed a little at that, broke eye contact for a moment and looked around the room. 

“I mean, outside of the moral crisis surrounding what happened in my office between us, yeah.”

“Hmmm,” you nodded. You couldn’t help but feel excited, his words pricked your skin in a good way. “And how are you doing pertaining to what happened in your office?”

“Confused,” he said honestly, a slow nod when he brought his eyes back to yours. 

“Me too.”

His face faltered at that, care and concern washed over his features when you tried to explain.

“Not in a bad way! I enjoyed it, a lot--obviously, I mean, you know, seeing as it ended the way it did,” you sputtered out. He laughed a little at your sudden disclosure, a nod to the way he brought you to orgasm so effortlessly. The nerves in your gut made you keep talking and start walking. “I’m just confused because I know it’s--yeah--not super kosher because of our roles.”

He leaned against a table lined with desktops and keyboards, watched as you paced in front of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smirked a little, let out a breath before he confessed: “I’m slightly concerned with how much I want to kiss you.”

You smiled, felt your heart thump at his words. “I know the feeling.”

He kept your gaze for a second, smiled again when you took a few steps forward. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing,” he said quietly. 

You nodded. “I won’t.”

But you were comfortable kissing him, so you closed the space between you and tugged him into you by the lapel of his blazer. His hands moved to your jaw instinctually, and for the first time, you didn’t worry if he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

You pushed the blazer off of his shoulders, he shrugged out of it quickly and then wrapped his arms around your waist. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

A quiet laugh in the computer lab: “ditto.”

So you kissed him harder, bit his lower lip when his hands wandered south and cupped your ass over the fabric of your dress. You felt him growing against your thigh, moaned into his mouth when his left hand pushed the shoulder of your dress towards the ground, exposing your bra before letting his fingers trace the outline against your skin. 

He reached around, fumbled with the hooks before it popped loose, the straps around your arms when his thumb rubbed over your right nipple. 

You were desperate, panting and kissing and wishing you could devour him when he pulled back quickly. 

“If we have sex,” he cleared his throat, panting from desire, “we can’t--you know--talk about it.”

“I know,” you said, a quick nod when you tried to pull him back to you. 

He laughed, held onto your arms when he smiled. “And if I fuck you--here,” he looked around the dark room--blinking lights from the printers and a quiet hum from the computers-- “I need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded again, let your own hand slide down his khakis until you traced the outline of his erection. “I’ll do the best I can.”

He smiled at that, pressed his lips to yours and reached for his belt buckle. You both tugged at it, laughed when it finally came apart and you could reach a hand inside. He hummed against your mouth in pleasure, maneuvered you both around until he pushed you into one of the tables. 

He broke free for a second, only to press a kiss against your neck and then your collarbone and then he took your nipple in his mouth, flicked it with his tongue when your head fell back. His hands traveled up along the slit of your dress, a magnet to your center when he finally pushed his hands against the soaked fabric of your panties. 

You groaned in pure joy, unsure if you could handle his fingers and his cock in one night. So before he slipped a digit inside, you pushed him away. 

“I just want your cock,” you breathed. 

“You do?” He asked, head tilted to one side when he gave you a smug look.

A fervent nod, you reached around his arm and down his pants, let your hand wrap around his length when he stepped closer. He pushed his pants down, slid his boxer briefs to his knees and pumped himself a few times when he looked up at you. 

“Are you sure you can be quiet?”

“Positive,” you said, a fistful of his shirt and you pulled him against your chest. He laughed, held a hand around his shaft as he grazed his tip up and down your center. 

If you tried, you probably could have orgasmed right then. 

But he pushed into you, held onto your thighs when you wrapped them around his hips. His hand found your jaw again, his thumb pressed against your lips in attempt to keep you quiet. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, tongue lapping at his thumb when he laughed. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby?”

You nodded, swallowed before he brought his mouth to yours, letting his tongue dance between your lips as he picked up his pace. Hard and slow and then fast when his hands found your breasts again. 

He felt big inside of you, warm and exciting as you braced yourself against the table, almost there. He watched as your head fell back again, teetering on the edge of orgasm when you spoke. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you told him, and then he chuckled: “that’s the point.”

You whimpered but his hand was on your mouth before it could get loud, he watched as you came undone in front of him, a look of pride on his face when you caught your breath. 

He moved slower now, still rocking in and out of you when he smiled. 

“I know we’re not keeping score or anything,” you said. “But it’s now 2-0, so please,” you looked up at him. “Have your way with me.”

Apparently he liked the sound of that. He smiled against your mouth but brought his hand up to your throat, firm and soft at the same time when he pushed into you with more force. You smiled up at him coyly when he watched you, pumping himself in and out until he crested and rode the wave of his orgasm with a smirk on his face. 

He laughed when it was over, offered a hand to help you down from the table. You adjusted, smoothed out your dress and hair when he pulled his pants back up and said: “should we get back to the party?”

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tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90 @shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease

AN: AND WE LEVEL UP AGAIN!!!! OKAY but what do we think about them finally going all the way? AND ON CAMPUS? Do we trust the gang to stay quiet? WHAT DO WE THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN?!?!? Love writing this story and chatting with you guys! Thanks for supporting my fave hobby!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Summer 2022 blurb

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WC: 1.7k

Summer was in full bloom in London. The trees billowed with leaves and the air was thick and humid on the Thursday you landed at a small private airport just north of the city. 

Tinted windows and leather seats on the way to set. It had been a while since you saw any of them. Facetimed with Jason, of course, even a few where you waved to Daisy and Otis and asked about their days. 

But after a month on the road you were excited to see them—him, most importantly—so your car sped you towards the film studios and you knew you’d be there in time for lunch. 

Mia typed on her phone, stared intently at her screen when you pulled up. 

“We’re here,” you said quietly, the familiar sight of the dollies and trailers brought a wave of excitement when the car slowed to a stop.

“Down, girl,” Mia teased, her eyes narrowed at you in the backseat when you perked up, decidedly puppy-like.

“Leave me alone,” you laughed at her. “I have a fiancé now.”

“How on earth could I forget?” 

She was right. The news broke quickly after you posted a casual Instagram: your arms wrapped around his neck backstage after the opening weekend, the ring was visible on your finger and while neither of you confirmed anything, other famous friends tipped their hats in the comments section: congratulations!

And, realistically, this had been the longest you’d been apart in a while. So you bounced out of the backseat, led Mia through the parking lot and waved at the crew that still seemed too star-struck to say hi.

You kind of knew where you were going, a right then a left and through a set of doors and down a hallway when Juno did a double take. 

“Y/N!!!!” She screamed when she saw you, ditched whoever she was with and ran until her arms wrapped around you. “Jason said you’d show up at some point but I didn’t know it’d be so early! Let me see it!”

She grabbed your hand and tugged it forward, inspected the ring on your finger and moved it side to side to see it glisten beneath the overhead set lights. 

“Holy shit,” she looked up at you seriously. “He did good.”

“I know,” you let your eyes get wide, nodding when she looked back down at it.

“Excuse me!” Another voice from down the hall.  Hannah, hair done and coiffed as she approached with a look of jealousy. “Where’s my invite to this little rendezvous?”

Juno stepped aside so Hannah could hug you, another inspection of the ring and a recounting of your flight: fine, a red eye, but easy! 

He’d told you how excited the whole cast was, plenty of celebrating when he came back into town after that weekend in New York. 

But you weren’t there for it, obviously. Show after show in city after city and now you finally had a few days off after tomorrow’s sold-out night at Wembley.

You heard his voice before you saw him, an eye roll when the playful accent floated overhead and pulled laughter from Hannah and Juno.

“Well I’ll be,” he shook his head at you. Khakis and a navy sweater, a smile on his face. “Did someone leave the doors unlocked?”

“Funny,” you made a face, let him kiss the side of your head when he came and squeezed you tight. He kept his arms around you, looked down at Juno. 

“How long has this Angel been on premises?”

You knew the character would melt off him soon, decided that you’d let him hang off you when a few others came to say hi. They were excited, hadn’t seen you since it happened and now they were ready to do another round of celebrating.

“There’s a show to put on first,” you reminded Brett, who was now rattling on about the plans for the weekend.

Nothing crazy, dinner at your place (Jason’s? Now that you were officially moved into a tour bus), a fancier dinner before your show and a London after party for your friends who were in town or local. 

Eventually Jason tugged you back to his trailer, a moment alone when he locked the door and looked over at you.

“I smell like airplane and I haven’t showered,” you held up a hand to put the kibosh on whatever sexual endeavor he seemed to be contemplating. 

“Am I not allowed to look at my fiancé? Admire her beauty?” He asked with extended arms. 

You folded, let him hug you and press a kiss to your lips when you inhaled his scent. 

“I missed you," you confessed, you crinkled your nose and looked up at him. "But you smell like Ted."

“What does he smell like?”

“Hairspray,” you tilted your head to the side in contemplation. “Fresh linen."

“Not a bad scent,” he nodded, adding a shrug: “I would imagine.”

"Not bad," you agreed, "just not you."

"Is that what you missed most? My smell?"

"No," you laughed. "I missed your dumb jokes and your annoyingly good looks as well."

A knock on the door, Cara and Mia with lunch and a filming update from a PA. You watched a few scenes from the sidelines, sat in a chair with his last name on it as you tried to stifle your laughter at the jokes and they’d written when they came to life.

A locker room shot, a pep talk before a game and someone brushed powder on his forehead. He almost made it all the way through a mini-monologue, sunk by a quick glance in your direction as you had a quiet reaction.

“Sorry—“ he broke, laughter through the room when his lips twitched into a smile. “I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” he reassured. 

Another take, the same exact slip before he confessed: “I’m getting distracted by that one, over there,” his finger pointed right at you.

“Oi,” one of the boys on the team turned around to tease you. “We’ll have to kick you out!”

They all laughed, you made a face at Jason and watched him stick the landing on the third take. Eventually you headed back to the house, thankful for a night at home with him before the weekend took off.

The kids came in the morning, an awkward hug from Olivia at the front door. She didn’t ask to see it. but she did say she was happy for you. You’d take it. 

You got to the venue in the afternoon, Daisy tornadoed through the hallways on her pink scooter during soundcheck. 

It’s not that you were nervous, per se. You’d seen them all do their thing: endless takes on set when they’d laugh and mess up and start again. 

Now it was your turn to perform. 

And that definitely ignited a wave of butterflies beneath your ribs when you rose up to the stage. You knew where they were but couldn’t pick them out—too many people too far away. 

Twenty songs, an hour and a half on stage before the lights went down and you were done. They were already waiting when Mia brought you back to your dressing room. Applause and cheering when you came through the door. You played it off.

“For me?!” You giggled a little, offered your hand to Juno when she kissed it. 

“Flawless, absolute perfection!”

“That was the craziest shit I’ve ever seen,” Brett nodded, a look of shock on his face when he hugged you. They already had drinks in hand, already feeling the buzz of the evening.

“Yeah?” You asked with a smile. “More fireworks at the end than I expected.”

“That was the perfect ending though—honestly felt like I could feel the whole stadium shaking,” Juno gushed. "You might be my coolest friend."

You appreciated the compliments, always excited after a show to recount the things that went right. 

“I definitely fucked up a dance move in the first song,” you shrugged, Jason pushed through the others, a bucket hat on his head.

“Yeah I noticed that,” he teased, pulling you into a  hug when Brendan and his wife moved to make room. 

“Of course you did,” you offered a challenging smirk. 

“But you did phenomenally,” he complimented. “Better every time I see you.”

The backstage area was still fluttering with excitement. Crew hurried to begin the breakdown process, everyone huddled in your green room now when Mia brought a bathrobe.

“Go shower,” Hannah teased. “You stink and we’ll have some drinks in your honor before you come back!”

She kept her promise: handed you a glass of champagne when you emerged from the shower and a quick stop at the glam chair for a refresh.

You rode with them in cars out to a club, mingled with friends and clinked your glass against Juno’s when she bumped her shoulder against yours.

“You've come a far way from the girl at The Emmys…”

You laughed, nodded as you watched Jason across the room as he chatted. “You’re telling me!”

“I kinda like that you showed up, turned our world upside down a bit,” she motioned around the room. “We were far less famous with you!”

“Oh stop,” you rolled your eyes and laughed, offering a compromise: “I just expedited it.”

Hannah appeared between your heads when she offered a huge grin. “I’m getting quite tired of this! What’s happening over here without me?”

“Just a horrifically sentimental moment between the two of us,” Juno admitted. 

“I knew it,” Hannah threw her arms around you both, a dramatic smile on her face. “You’re stuck with us forever now.”

“Oi,” Juno said. “Don’t scare her off, she already said yes!”

You all laughed, shared another bottle before a car whisked you home under a damp London sky. Another hand off with Olivia in the morning, this time she stayed and drank a cup of coffee in the kitchen and it actually felt pleasant. 

You watched a movie on the couch with him in the morning, pajamas and a quickie before he made grilled cheese for lunch. 

I don’t know what’s better, you said. Your grilled cheese or your dick.

Tea in the afternoon under a tree in the back garden, he laid his head in your lap and told you about the last few weeks. Happy to be quietly with him, phones face down on the kitchen counter inside when you cocooned into a world with him that felt under the microscope far too often.

People started to show up around 7–endless wine in the garden and a catered dinner from a place in Hammersmith beneath twinkling lights. It only took an hour before someone pulled out a joint and laughter floated up to the trees. 

His arms hung around your shoulders and you laughed with them into the evening, amazed by the way a person was starting to feel like home. 

“Hey,” Juno called from a few spots over, tipsy from tequila soda. “Isn’t it crazy what we were saying before?“

“What?” You asked.

“That we didn’t even know you not that long ago, none of you, even—” she gestured around the whole group. “Yet in such a short time it feels like a place I’ve always known,” she smiled.

You nodded, felt Jason kiss the top of your hair. You couldn’t agree more.

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AN: WOW a summer blurb to visit everyone's favorite newly engaged couple UGHHHHHHHH

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[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter six

Summer Semester - June 29th, 2018

Jason Sudeikis (9:25pm): Just saw Patrick (the kid that always slept in the back row) at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen

Y/N L/N (9:32pm): I’m shocked he was awake lol

Jason Sudeikis (9:34pm): It was honestly the first time I’ve seen his eyes open

August 13th, 2018

To: Y/N L/N

From: Jason Sudeikis

Subject: Hi

August 8th, 2018 - 3:17pm 

Hey Y/N, 

Hope you’re having a nice summer and hope the internship is going well so far. I know you’re heading into a busy fall semester but wanted to let you know I was recently asked to develop a pilot and three-episode spec script for a new streaming service through NBC. It’s on the down low for now but there’s an application page in case you’re interested in throwing your hat in the ring for a spot on the writing team. Not sure if it would align well with your internship or if they’d allow double-dipping like that. Just food for thought. Let me know if you have any questions.

www.nbcunicareers.com/contentdevelopment/listing35fd982wy=p089

Talk soon,

JS

--

Prof. Jason Sudeikis, PhD

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

Summer office hours by appointment only

To: Jason Sudeikis

From: Y/N L/N

Subject: RE: Hi

August 8th, 2018 - 5:11pm 

Hi! Internship is going well! Congrats on landing a development deal--I’ll look over the listing and get back to you with any questions. Thanks for thinking of me!

Best,

Y/N L/N

MFA Candidate

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

(212-555-8495)

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AN: i didn't say it was a long chapter!!!!!!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter five

May 7th, 2018

Max was in the window seat, an eye mask tugged low to block the setting sun over the left wing. Naomi munched on a bag of pretzels, headphones in place as she stared at the screen on the seatback in front of her. 

Two hours in, four to go. 

Somehow you’d gotten stuck on the aisle--Sophie was two rows ahead of you trying to chat up a girl in her Film Preservation class--and Max was quick to lay claim on your preferred seat. But at least it gave you easy access to the bathroom. 

So you washed your hands in the tiny sink, slid the lock on the door and pushed it open to find Jason leaned against the wall on the other side. 

“Oh, hi--sorry,” he took a step back, let you step out into the cramped space beside the galley. 

“Hi,” you looked up at him, wondering if he’d watched you get up and find the bathroom or if this was a chance meeting. The way he scanned your face quickly told you it was the former. 

“Did you get my text the other night?”

“Yeah--no--I did, I just--I was with Sophie, it was late.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, only a few inches away from you. “Okay, I just didn’t know--”

On your walk back from Sophie’s that night you weighed the options. You could reply, tell him it was fine and risk giving him the power. Or--in a brazen change of pace--you could see how much he’d squirm. 

Apparently it was working. You offered him a tiny smile, slipped past him and headed for your seat. 

Luckily, your friends were too distracted upon arrival in Cannes to notice your calculated moves. You tried to take a step back--if only to see how he’d react--and that meant not laughing at the jokes he cracked on the transfer to the hotel. 

There were palm trees and sidewalk cafes and water so blue you couldn’t believe it. Yachts docked in the bay as you drove along the coast, the bus dropped you off beside a Prada store and Max took a look around, I think I have to move here. 

You were set free to check-in and unpack, your room with Naomi was right beside Max and Sophie’s, juliette balconies overlooked the city center and just by the water you could spot the Palais des Festivals. 

The city was thick with excitement that day, and when you sipped champagne on Sophie’s bed the first night, you smiled. 

She stood in the mirror, clipped an earring into place when Naomi ran a straightener through her hair. 

“This is the coolest shit we’ve ever done,” Sophie decided. 

“One day maybe I’ll have a film that gets screened here,” Max dreamed out loud, scrolling mindlessly on his phone before he looked up to see you. “And maybe you’ll write the script for me.”

“If you can afford me,” you shrugged dramatically when Naomi let out a laugh. 

Max soon read through the screenings of the evening--the categories that were divided up and the purpose of each different accolade. You slipped into your dress just before 4pm, a floor length gown that he’d found on a rack at Bloomingdale’s and swore was the one. 

Well, one of the two seeing as you bought a different dress for the next night. 

Your bank account suffered but your heart was happy when you stepped out of the elevator behind them, a clutch in hand as you neared the hotel bar. 

“Early enough to get a drink,” Sophie wiggled her shoulders as you all approached. 

Jason and Will stood at the edge of the bar, suits and ties and their hands around glasses of whiskey. They turned when Max offered a compliment: “don’t you two clean up nicely!”

Will laughed, shook Max’s hand in greeting. “This feels like a better look than the usual professor garb, right?”

“Absolutely,” Max flirted.

“Hi,” Jason nodded in your direction, a small smile when he seemed to gauge the energy between the two of you. He looked you up and down quickly, lips parted as he tried to navigate another blurred line. “You look…really…wonderful.”

Sophie let out a giggle at the interaction she witnessed. Jason’s eyes darted over to her and he started to stammer. 

“You do too, Sophie--you look great--”

“Oh, save it, Sudeikis,” she rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder. “Keep the compliments for Y/N.”

“Why don’t you get me a drink,” you redirected Sophie. She made a face at that--like a child being reprimanded for staying up past their bedtime--before she took a few steps over and did as she was told. 

“Sorry,” you said to him quickly. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he laughed a little. “Just--you know--a different look than your usual…” he trailed off, another shake of his head. “I’m gonna stop commenting on your appearance now.”

You offered a smug smirk, a rush of adrenaline at the power and the feeling and the way he swallowed down whatever thoughts he had. 

“You also look very nice,” you said casually. “Max helped me find this dress and the one I have for tomorrow--so, I owe it all to him.”

“Is she giving me credit for her fit?” He leaned down the bar and smiled at you. 

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes. “As promised.”

“You’re welcome,” Max smirked at you and offered a quick wink, though for a second, it almost felt like he was saying it to Jason. 

You sipped on another glass of Champagne before other students and professors arrived, climbed onto the coach bus that drove you over to the theater. Security was tight and obviously less glamorous than the red carpet, but everyone was just as excited to finally get inside what felt like a slice of filmmaker’s heaven. 

You were in awe—of the cinematography, the set design—every aspect left you speechless and every film left you inspired. You thought back to the night in his office when you caught a glimpse of him in the dark.

What if there was an extra spot?

You were glad, overall, that you hadn’t told your friends. It would be hard to explain the way he shrugged his shoulders and offered it up casually, like he wasn’t bending the rules to help you out. 

Would he do that for someone else? Would he have looked as disappointed if someone else had given bad news? I didn’t get chosen.

The confusion that left you staring at the ceiling most nights as you waited for sleep was becoming unbearable. It felt more suffocating in a foreign country, but the way he looked at you in your dress gave the confidence boost you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Just like Sophie had said a few weeks earlier, it felt harder now to ignore the quick glances or subtle smirks. Flirty. Sure. A sprinkle of some sexual tension that you figured was mostly in your imagination and (at best) highly exaggerated due to your innocent crush and the constant prodding from Sophie.

But the way he backtracked and side stepped your question in his office made you tick. What had started as casual flirtation now felt elevated, almost like a tug of war or a game to see who’d break first.

So you kept a safe distance at the post screening cocktail party, sipped a martini with Naomi and chatted with other students about the excitement of the evening. 

You kept an eye on him, made sure to have plenty of fun and made sure that if he ever came too close, you’d find another group to join. 

And maybe you were a little old to play games--you certainly weren’t proud of the potential mess this could be or the disaster it could become. But if anything, by the end of the night, it seemed like you weren’t the only one testing the water.

You waited at the bar for another drink, noticed after a moment that he was down on the other end, listening intently to a woman with long hair and a glass of champagne in her hand. You did a double take, uncomfortable with the pang of jealousy that coursed through you at the sight of them. 

You didn’t recognize her--she wasn’t someone affiliated with NYU--and when Sophie slid up beside you, it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together. 

“Why do you look pouty?” She asked with narrowed eyes, a quick smile in gratitude to the bartender who delivered her drink. 

“One o’clock,” you muttered. “Look at how obnoxious that is.”

She glanced around quickly, her eyes settling on Jason and the mystery woman before her lips pushed out in confusion. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know,” you said.

She nodded slowly, looked at them and then back at you. “Go over there.”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What am I supposed to say? Stop flirting with my professor because I’m trying to do that?”

“At least she admits it now,” Naomi appeared behind you. 

“Oh leave me alone,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What’s happening?” Naomi sipped the cocktail in her hand and smiled in curiosity. 

“She’s jealous,” Sophie reached forward and pinched your cheek, gesturing down the bar to the two of them. 

Naomi’s eyebrows lifted when her gaze settled on Jason. “Huh. That’s a surprising twist.”

“I think she should go over there,” Sophie said. “You know, fuck with his head a little bit.”

“And I think Sophie’s an idiot,” you looked to Naomi. 

“Have you guys--like--done anything?” she lowered her voice and Sophie bit back a laugh.

“No,” you shook your head quickly, a dramatic groan. “I don’t know why everyone keeps asking that.”

Naomi’s eyes went wide at that. “Who’s everyone?”

“Just you two, I guess.”

“We have asked because we are aware of the rapport and the chemistry between you guys,” Sophie corrected. “Hard to miss, honestly.”

Your heart did a somersault at her words, another rush of something when you looked at him from across the room. Your denial of the chemistry and rapport--to borrow Sophie’s words--wasn’t to dupe your friends. You weren’t purposely trying to keep anything from them or be dishonest. Mostly, you were trying to avoid whatever letdown would come if nothing ever transpired. 

All of the giggling that Sophie did—the excitement that oozed out of her when you mentioned his name—only egged you on. It made your heart beat harder at the thought of feeling his hands on your body, a thought that was popping into your consciousness more often lately. 

It was a longshot, right? You were twenty-seven, a student and his advisee. Any type of anything could cost him his job and--at the end of the day--it still felt like a stupid fantasy. Unlikely and out of reach. 

But when thoughts like that started to swirl in your brain, it was hard to ignore the evidence. The way he looked you up and down in the hotel bar earlier today, the text he’d sent to apologize for whatever that was in his office. When one of you pushed, the other pulled back. 

But again, two could play that game. 

“I’m going over there,” you said, setting your drink on the counter, exhilarated by the look of shock on both their faces. 

“What are you gonna say?” Sophie asked eagerly, the anticipation and excitement evident in her voice. 

Naomi eyed you skeptically, less enthused by your decision. “Yeah, what are you gonna say?” 

“Nothing--just, I don’t know. I’ll be fine,” you reassured them. “Watch my drink and stay here. And do not stare at me from across the bar.”

“Alright, alright,” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Go get your man back.”

“Not my man,” you made a face, turning on your heels and heading in his direction. 

You wove through other evening gowns and schmoozers, caught his eye when you approached and watched as he interrupted the woman in front of him. Not the first time he’d done that--pause a conversation to direct his attention towards you--and it felt even better the second time. 

“Sorry--uh--Celeste, this is Y/N. She’s one of my advisees at NYU, great writer and director.”

“Nice to meet you,” you extended your hand, offered her a smile and took note of the ring on her finger. 

Jason looked at you and helped connect the dots. “Celeste and I met through her husband, he and I worked together on a movie in 2014. They live in Tribeca.”

Oh. You smiled up at her. “That’s so nice--what a small world that you ran into each other.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Her husband is a great guy, super talented and hilarious.”

“He’s here somewhere,” she looked around the party and laughed. “Let me go find him--he’d love to see you. I’ll come back,” she disappeared at that, patted Jason on the shoulder and took off to locate her husband.

He looked down at you once you were alone. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you offered an awkward smile. 

“Are we--good?”

“Us?” You tried to play it cool, as if the one syllable, two letter word didn’t ignite something in you. “Yeah--no--of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

He thought on it for a second, shrugged slightly as he shook his head. “No reason, I guess--just checking. Feel like I haven’t seen a lot of you lately, on the trip.”

“Oh, yeah,” you waved him off. “Traveling with two divas isn’t easy.”

“Naomi doesn’t strike me as a diva--”

“I meant Sophie and Max,” you laughed.

“Oh,” he nodded when it clicked. “Right. Speaking of…” he trailed off as he smiled over your shoulder. 

Max materialized behind you, Sophie and Naomi in tow. So much for leaving things be.

“Hi,” Max cooed, a kiss on your cheek when he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?” You laughed a little at his antics, unsure what he was up to or if you’d even approve. 

“Out on the town,” he made a face like this should have been obvious. “Plenty of french men to meet, right?”

Your eyes darted up to Jason’s, who eyed you with an amused smirk. 

“Well,” you nodded at your advisor. “I guess I’ve got plans.”

“I guess so,” he shrugged before looking up to the rest of them. “Be safe, have fun--don’t be idiots.”

“Okay dad,” Max teased. “Or should I say daddy,” he muttered in your ear. 

“Okay--we’re leaving,” you tugged his arm, biting back a tipsy laugh.

May 8th, 2018

The Starbucks in the hotel lobby was busy for 8am. Nose goes in the group text sent you downstairs in athletic shorts and a tank top. An iced caramel latte, an americano, and a flat white. Tea for Naomi. Easy enough. 

You scrolled on your phone in line with your wallet in your hand. A voice from behind you made your stomach flip. 

“Morning,” he said, hair a little less coiffed than usual. A smirk on his face like he knew the line this was crossing--at least it was nobody’s fault. You crossed your arms over your chest, were your nipples visible through the bralette you threw on?

“Morning,” you forced a smile. “I’m on coffee duty.”

“I can see that,” he laughed. “They really are divas, huh?”

“Only on days that end in y,” you rolled your eyes. 

“So--” he shuffled on his feet when you both waited in line, he put his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants he wore. For a second you swore you saw his eyes sweep over your figure. The shorts that hung on your hips now felt almost too short, your tank top a little too see-through. “Where’d Max take you last night?”

You caught his eyes for a second, flattered by his thinly veiled curiosity. “Just a place near the beach--nothing too intense. Did you end up anywhere after the festival?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I went out for a drink with Celeste--that woman you met--and her husband. Nice to catch up.”

You smiled, noticed that he didn’t have as clean of a shave as he usually did. He wore a blue t-shirt, the name of a Kansas City restaurant across the chest, and a pair of Nikes. 

A moment of reprieve when it was your turn to order. You waited by the end of the counter for the drinks and breakfast pastries, he came up beside you again and made small talk about the undergrad class and the students that neither of you could stand. 

But eventually Marina appeared in the lobby and he went to catch up with her, something about a museum in the afternoon before another night of screenings. You grabbed lunch with the gang and nosed around the city, pulling on another evening gown by sunset. 

The night was long but fun, glitzy and glamorous when the night air breezed by the outdoor bar at the festival. It was similar to the night before--movies, short films, documentaries. An endless option of art at your fingertips and plenty of champagne, too. 

And on the morning of your last full day in Cannes--your free day in Cannes--Max slurped the end of a smoothie, fussed with the straw when he smiled: “okay--let’s go around in a circle and all say what our favorite part of the trip has been so far.”

The morning was already hot and sunny, meaning Sophie had her heart set on the beach before you even had breakfast at the hotel.

“The doc we saw last night was amazing,” Naomi said. “Just seeing all these new approaches to film and storytelling is so cool.”

The second night of the festival was better than the first. Mostly because you had more to drink than the night before and Jason and Will sat at the end of your aisle for one of the screenings. Max took it upon himself to crack jokes with them and Sophie was brave (tipsy?) enough to introduce herself to one of your favorite up and coming directors. 

“Meeting Julien Frantz was pretty epic,” Sophie nodded, you heard her take a sip of the frozen rosé you’d stopped for on the way over.

You were lying down on a towel, a t-shirt draped over your eyes when your sunglasses weren’t enough. “If Max is the one who suggested we share it means he’s got something good.” 

He laughed though you couldn’t see him. 

“My favorite thing has been the food and the drinks and the club last night.”

Right--the spot he’d dragged you to after a shot at the hotel bar and a pep talk on the sidewalk outside. You only live once, he practically screamed in your face. Sophie was an easy sell, Naomi agreed you’d stay until 1am and then go home. You didn’t leave until 2am. 

Which is why you’d all agreed to spend the last day lounging in the sand and watching the yachts that you’d never be able to afford. 

“We all know what your favorite part has been,” Max said, the lilt in his voice made it clear he was talking to you.

“Me?”

“Yeah you,” he laughed. 

You played along for a second, curious to see how far he’d push you. “And what do you think that might be?”

“So coy,” Sophie laughed. “As if you aren’t loving the extra Sudeikis time.”

Naomi snorted out a laugh, probably pretending to be nose deep in a book.

“There’s nothing happening,” you said, eyes still covered by the t-shirt you’d folded. 

“For now—” Max chuckled.

You groaned, heard Sophie shift beside you. You pulled the t-shirt off your eyes, she sat up on her towel and lifted her sunglasses to see you. She meant business. 

“Would you have sex with him?” She shaded her eyes with her hand. 

Now you sat up, let out an elongated sigh and sipped your own frozen rosé through the now soggy paper straw. Should you admit it so easily?

“Guys--” you groaned, made a face at all three of them. 

They stared back at you expectantly, obviously not willing to budge.

“I mean--I wouldn’t not have sex with him.”

“What a weird way to say yes,” Max made a face at you. 

“Well—what do you want me to say? No matter what I would do, nothing can happen, right?”

Now Naomi sat up too. 

“I know it’d be fun, but—I don’t know. Feels risky and unethical.”

You nodded in agreement, ignored the way Max let his jaw hang open: “Okay but she’s almost thirty—” he pointed a finger at you. 

“Watch it,”  you warned.

“And he’s 42,” Max kept going. “That’s not that bad.”

Sophie leaned forward to convince you. “And this is grad school. It’s not undergrad, it’s not like he has so much power over you.”

“He could give me bad grades—“ you tried to interject.

“Why on earth would he do that?” Max asked. “You’re literally the teacher’s pet.” 

“Okay, ew,” you giggled. 

“As if you wouldn’t sit on his lap,” Max crawled up on his knees and pretended to pant like a dog.

Sophie and Naomi both burst into laughter, nearly toppled over on the sand when you pulled your legs up to your chest. You had the cover of sunglasses, but something told you they could see the heat on your cheeks.

“Oh, we got her good,” Sophie laughed. “Spot on impression!”

“I’m still team don’t do it,” you shook your head but smiled. “I would never want to make him uncomfortable and I don’t know if he would ever do anything. He’s too professional.” You thought out loud, a quick qualifier: “I mean, that’s all assuming that he is actually flirting with me.”

“Even I’ve seen it,” Naomi admitted with a roll of her eyes. She nodded towards Max and Sophie. “And I don’t do anything obnoxious around him unlike those two.”

“Cannes feels like a good place to roll the dice,” Max suggested. 

“Excuse me?”

He put his palms towards the sky. “If you’re gonna sleep with a professor I feel like a school trip is where it should happen.”

“No—oh my god—I’m not just going to dive in head first!”

“No?” Sophie raised her brows. “You’re gonna ease in? Dip a toe or two?”

“We’ll see,” you laid back down, pulled the t-shirt over your eyes again to block the sun. “But no promises.”

__

Your arm was linked with Naomi’s when you came through the hotel lobby doors on your last night in Cannes. Strappy heels on your feet had you begging to sit--the walk back from dinner on cobblestone streets wasn’t any easier after a glass of wine. 

“Look at all of them over there,” Max pointed across the lobby to the hotel bar. A booth of your professors--Laurie, Will, Jason, Jesse, Marina--laughter floated over from their spot and Sophie smiled. 

“We have to go have a drink with them!”

You were tugged over without a say in the decision, even Naomi was on board and you weren’t about to be the only one to object. So you sauntered up beside them, met his eyes briefly when Sophie greeted the group. 

“An evening nightcap,” she cooed. “Mind if we join?”

“Well hello,” Marina smiled up at the four of you, sliding down in the u-shaped booth to make room. 

“Did you galavant around Cannes tonight?” Will asked before he took a sip of his cocktail. Max let you slide in first--of course--next to Jason. He offered a smile when your knee knocked into his beneath the table.

“We had dinner at a place near Pointe Croisette,” Sophie put on her best French accent. “Most delicious bread I’ve ever had.”

“Bread?” Laurie smiled. “Did you guys eat anything else or are we on a budget?”

“We might as well have ordered one of everything,” you rolled your eyes. “But we agreed that the bread was to die for.”

“Life’s simplest pleasures,” Jesse joked. 

They told you about their night--not that dissimilar from yours--and Laurie recounted the worst trip to Cannes she’d ever experienced. We lost three students because they got too drunk and barely made the flight home. 

You fell into conversation with Marina and Sophie about the screenings the night before. Sophie was thrilled to have seen Meryl Streep in the flesh, Marina promised that she believed your friend: if you say she waved at you, I’ll take your word for it.

It was fun to listen to their stories about Cannes or work or anything they’d divulge. When you first started grad school, your professors felt untouchable. Like their years of experience and expertise put them far out of reach, and you’d take any drop of knowledge they’d offer up.

But as time went on, you got to know them as people. You knew Marina was married and had a five year old at home. Laurie had lived in the same Greenwich Village apartment since her 30s due to rent control. The line between professor and mentor seemed much blurrier the closer to thirty you got. You figured that was just part of being an adult. 

After two more drinks, Naomi was the first to tip her wine glass towards the ceiling. “Alright--I have to give in to sleep.” She smiled in farewell and headed for the elevator, followed by Will only ten minutes later. The bar had thinned out a little--already midnight and only twelve hours until your return flight. 

Max and Jason laughed about Will’s final assignment for a theory class and then Sophie followed Laurie’s lead. “Alright,” she smiled when she stood from the booth. “I’d love another drink, but future me doesn’t like the thought of being hungover on a transatlantic flight.”

Laurie laughed. “As someone who’s suffered through that--good choice.”

Sophie grimaced at Laurie’s memory. “And Max insisted on a club last night, so I might be at my alcohol limit for this trip.”

“Good to know there is one,” you teased her. She gave you the finger playfully as she walked away. 

So then there were three. Max didn’t mind making you and Jason laugh about the terrible short film he made in high school, and when he finally finished his third glass of Champagne, he pouted. “I think this is the end of the road for me, too.”

“I’m sorry,” you teased. “Maxwell Antonio Prescott, quitting while he’s ahead?”

Jason chuckled, watched when Max draped his arms around your shoulder and squeezed with affection. “You know how Sophie snores--my sleep is already fucked up enough.”

“Fine,” you waved him off. “Go, get the beauty sleep you need.”

“Don’t stay up too late, you two,” Max offered a wink when he slipped a euro into your hand to cover his drinks. 

“Goodnight, Max,” Jason offered a salute in farewell when you let out a sigh. You smiled at the waiter who brought the tab, slid your card forward to be the responsible one. 

Jason kept his eyes on you for a second. “Your friends aren’t as bad as you make them out to be.”

“Oh, no--” you scoffed. “This was them on good behavior.”

“Yeah?”

“You really think they’d be themselves in front of you?”

“You say that like I’m a narc,” his eyes crinkled when he laughed. 

“If the shoe fits…”

“Oh my god,” he leaned back in the booth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely,” he smiled. The waiter tore off the receipt, gave you a pen and watched as you scribbled your name. You reached for your purse and stood, waited a second so Jason could file out behind you. A change in topic that wasn’t all that subtle.

“So--a club last night. Sounds fun.”

You glanced up at quickly. Was he…jealous? “If you like music that’s too loud and people who are sweaty.”

He laughed. “Did you finally end up meeting those French men?”

He sounded playful, but you caught the look in his eye in the mirror outside the elevator when he borrowed Max’s words from earlier in your trip.

“No,” you laughed a little and shook your head, turning to see him. “Guess it just wasn’t my night.”

“Hmm,” he nodded slowly. “S’too bad.”

The silk of your dress was smooth on your skin, he put his hand on the small of your back when the doors parted and you stepped inside. 

“What floor are you on?”

“Fifteen.”

“I am also on fifteen,” he informed, tucking his hands in his pockets when the doors slid back together. 

“Ah,” you nodded. “Did you also hear Sophie’s snoring?”

He laughed, shook his head. “No--but I sleep with a load of white noise so that probably helped.”

“Max is also very dramatic,” you shrugged. 

Quiet for a moment as you rose, a ding to signal your arrival before you cleared your throat. “I’m down this way.”

“Me too,” he gestured for you to lead the way, a right turn past an oil painting on the wall, a leafy fern in the corner. 

The hallway was silent, your footsteps barely audible on the beige carpet as your pulse quickened. Maybe it was the rosé, it slid down your throat with ease. Sweet and chilled and now you were wondering what he tasted like. 

You slowed outside your door--sure Naomi was already fast asleep in her bed by the window. But still, you whispered. 

“I guess this is goodnight.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, angling himself towards you.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, a quick glance down and a flip of your stomach when you saw an email notification. You brought it up and swiped it open, scanned the email when he watched you intently. 

“Oh my god,” you said. “I got the NBC internship--holy fucking shit!”

“Are you serious?” he laughed, a smile on his face when you looked up at him. “Oh my god that’s amazing,” he wrapped his arms around you quickly, your head on his chest and your arms around his waist. 

He pulled back, you blinked a few times and read it out loud. “We are pleased to offer you a position as a content development intern in our New York, New York office--”

“I hope you’re relieved,” he said. “Not that I was worried you wouldn’t get one of them.”

You sighed, the excitement still buzzing through you. Only a foot between your chests, you reached forward and let your fingers tug at the bottom of his tie. He took a step closer, his mouth twitched up at the corner when he met your eyes. 

“I can’t believe the semester’s pretty much over.” His eyes searched your face for a moment, landing on your lips before you replied.

“Yeah,” you agreed. More silence, you blinked up at him, a silent dare to close the space between you and do what you’d been wanting to do for months. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped back. He reached up to rub his jaw and adjusted his glasses. “Well--uh--I’ll see you in the morning, lobby for check-out at 11am, right?”

“Right,” you nodded, a deflated feeling in your chest when he smiled again. 

“Have a good night, Y/N.”

To: Y/N L/N

From: Jason Sudeikis

Subject: CINE-UT 712 credits

May 18th, 2018 - 11:04am

Hi.

Submitted the final “grade” for the TA credits. You should see it on your student portal eventually once everything gets finalized and grades are posted. Thanks for all of the help this semester! Congrats again on the NBC offer.

JS

--

Prof. Jason Sudeikis, PhD

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

Office hours M/W 10am-12pm or by appointment

To: Jason Sudeikis

From: Y/N L/N

Subject: RE: CINE-UT 712 credits

May 18th, 2018 - 12:23pm

Hi, sounds good, thanks for the heads up!

Best,

Y/N L/N

MFA Candidate

Cinema Studies, NYU Tisch

(212-555-8495)

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AN: WOW CANNES WE LOVE IT don't hate me okay bye

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter one

January 23rd, 2018

The subway was packed for a Tuesday rush hour, the to-go cup of coffee you’d gotten from the bodega on your block was wet from the rain that spilled over New York. You couldn’t tell if the racing of your heart was from caffeine or anxiety. Probably both. 

Students filed out of Frederick when you wove through a sea of backpacks and umbrellas, silently cursing the soggy paper cup in your hand when you pressed a button to summon the elevator. 

“Y/N, hi,” you heard his voice and tried to spin around casually--you know, in a I’m not thinking at all about how we matched on Hinge last month and I don’t know if it was a joke or not way. He smiled when you met his eyes, glanced down at the coffee in your hand and then the two cups in his. “I see you’re way ahead of me.”

“Oh, did you get one for me?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “--but, I can drink two, unless yours got too soggy on the way here.”

The elevator dinged in arrival and more students filed off--he offered polite smiles to faces he recognized before you stepped inside. When the doors shut, it was just the two of you. 

“I’ll take it, yeah, thank you--this one sucked anyway.”

Not true, but it felt rude to decline what you suspected was a peace offering. A no hard feelings about the fact that we matched on Hinge last month offering. 

He smiled, handed it over and stood there in awkward silence for a second. Okay, so you weren’t going to acknowledge it. You sipped the new coffee he’d gotten you--it actually was better than yours--and then brought your eyes up to his. 

“I hope you had a nice winter break!”

He nodded. “I did, yeah, did you?”

“I did--visited my family in St. Louis for a bit, definitely nice to have some time off.”

“I didn’t know you were from St. Louis,” his head tilted to the side, the corner of his mouth pulled up and you smiled. 

“Born and raised.”

“I’m from Kansas City--Kansas, too, a.k.a the good one.”

You smiled at his joke, he gestured for you to go first when the doors parted on the second floor. He followed behind you towards the lounge area he’d mentioned in his email: two couches, a few chairs, coffee tables and a vending machine. Some students were scattered throughout, laptops and AirPods and water bottles as the Spring Semester got underway.

“Thanks for doing this--Leah Pratt was going to but I guess something changed with her internship schedule,” he explained, reaching into the leather messenger bag that was permanently slung over his shoulder. 

Right, okay, so maybe you did have a tiny, totally innocent crush on your academic advisor. And maybe that crush grew a little bit when you had him as a professor last semester and realized that not only was he incredibly knowledgeable about his area of expertise, but he was also funny and cute and, of course, single. 

“Of course, yeah--I’m glad to help out,” you nodded. 

He handed you a syllabus that he’d typed up, put a pen in his mouth as he fished for his cellphone in his pocket. “And of course, you know, I’ll be happy to write you a letter of recommendation. You’ll do an internship next year, right?”

His question was likely more out of confirmation than uncertainty, seeing as he’d been the one to sit down with you your first semester and create a course map.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll be ready to apply in April.”

“Good,” he nodded, scanning over the paper in his hands but still managing to glance up and meet your eyes for a moment. He smiled, a quick one, and then cleared his throat. “So--I’m sure you took this class, right, back in the day?”

You did--Junior Year, when you still had no idea if you wanted to go to grad school let alone stay at NYU for another two to four years. Script writing wasn’t even on your radar back then. You’d moved to New York at 18 with the dream of being a director. Television, film, it didn’t really matter.

But the Advanced Script Writing Seminar you took with Professor Anne May Walter--a badass screenwriter who’d guest written three episodes of Girls--had you hooked in a heartbeat, thus leading to your application and subsequent admittance to the MFA program in Cinema Studies with a focus on Television Screenplay. 

Professor Sudeikis--who absolutely hated being called Doctor Sudeikis, despite the factual nature of the title--had been assigned as your advisor in your first year of the MFA program. 

Now, as he sat across from you, you knew he knew the answer to his own question. 

“Anne May Walter,” you smiled, having already dished to him about the crucial role the class had played in the course of your academic career thus far. 

“She’s a gem,” he smiled back. “So--we meet twice weekly, you’ll be expected to come to every class obviously barring illness or scheduling conflicts, we can just keep in touch,” he shrugged, looking back down to the syllabus again. “You’ll help lead small group discussions and critiques of scripts, assist in grading papers, the like.”

“Got it.”

“You get two credits--I already submitted the course change request to the Registrar, did you get an email approval?”

“I did,” you nodded. “Last night, actually.”

“Perfect. And you’re in my Television: History and Culture class, this semester, right?”

Another nod. There were two sections, one with him and one with another professor who you’d never had before. The choice was easy. 

He glanced up at you quickly, held your gaze for a second before he offered a slight shrug. “Well, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this spring, then.”

You tried to fight the smile that crept onto your face. You could hear Sophie’s voice in your head as you fumbled with the staple in the top left corner of the syllabus: say something flirty!

“I hope that’s not a bad thing.”

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise, but he played it cool. “No--not at all.”

So you sat there and sipped your coffee, listened as he briefed you on the assignments and projects and the students you’d be meeting in only twenty minutes. You followed him into the classroom when it was time and tried to ignore the way he rolled up his sleeves. When the undergrads trickled in, he cracked a few jokes to break the ice before he gave a more formal introduction. 

“I’m Jason Sudeikis, you can call me Professor Sudeikis, Mr. Sudeikis, Jason, I don’t really care what you call me as long as it’s not Doctor Sudeikis,” he paused for laughter. “Even though it’s technically correct I have a terrible inferiority complex because my older sister is actually a neurosurgeon--so, yeah--avoid that one if you want a good grade.”

You saw a girl in the front row smile at her friend, cute and smart and funny? You knew the feeling. 

“And this is Y/N L/N--I’ll let her say a bit about herself but she’ll be our wonderful TA this semester. She’s a Graduate Student in the MFA Cinema Studies Program so I’m sure you’ll find her insight to the course topics incredibly helpful.”

You waved at the class, offered a few words about how it was this very course that made you realize your love of script writing and screenplays, cracked a joke about how you were Professor Sudeikis’ second choice but still excited for the opportunity. He rolled his eyes but smiled at you from across the room. 

An easy few credits, you decided. A perfectly pleasant way to spend your Tuesday and Thursday evenings: helping students learn the ins and outs of scriptwriting and screen plays? Getting twice weekly interactions with Professor Sudeikis?

You filed your copy of the syllabus into a folder and shut your laptop when he dismissed the class, stole a glance his way when the last lingering student disappeared through the doorway. 

A beat of silence when he checked his phone. 

“Not too bad, right?”

You shook your head. “I thought they’d be a little more intimidating, actually.”

“Undergrads?” He bit back a laugh. 

“I told you I’ve never done this before!”

“Well,” he disconnected his laptop from the projector, “you’re already a natural.”

“Am I?” you coyly fished for a compliment, a challenging smirk in his direction. 

“You showed up, you seemed interested--”

“Good to know it’s a low bar,” you teased.

He shrugged, almost as if to agree. “Maybe--or you’re just good at exceeding expectations.”

Okay--he had to be flirting, right? He wasn’t just like this with his students, at least, not that you’d ever seen. 

You slipped your laptop into a tote bag, slung it over your shoulder as you watched him for a second. You were about to bring it up, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, uh--about the Hinge thing--”

You nodded, hoped to God that your face didn’t give you away: fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I just, you know, I’m your advisor, and--”

“Yeah,” you shook your head. 

“It’s not--”

“I know,” you waved. “I was with Sophie, we had some wine, it was all in good fun,” you nodded.

“Yeah,” he nodded, an unreadable expression, embarrassed, shy, disappointed? He couldn’t be. “Yeah--I just figured, you know, cards on the table.”

“Right.”

You stared at each other for a second, both of you nodding and waiting to see if the other had anything to say. Apparently not. 

“Alright,” you nodded, a slight smile. “Well--I’ll see you on Thursday? Same place?”

“Tomorrow, right? History and Culture?”

“Yes,” you nodded when you remembered. The actual class you were taking with him. “Grayson Hall, 4-0…”

“Three,” he nodded. “403. Hope you did the reading.”

You laughed. “I did.”

He nodded, glanced back up at you quickly. “Of course you did.”

__

Y/N L/N (8:42pm): He brought it up!!!!!

Sophie Mendez (8:46pm): No fucking way!!!! What did he say?

Y/N L/N (8:46pm): Just that he’s my advisor and I said we were just joking cause we had some wine

Sophie Mendez (8:47pm): So you blamed me lol

Y/N L/N (8:48pm): Noooo……..I was honest

Sophie Mendez (8:50pm): 🧐

Sophie Mendez (8:50pm): I think you mean “I pussied out of hitting on him”

Y/N L/N (8:51pm): We didn’t have an actual conversation about it! We just kind of shrugged it off

Y/N L/N (8:51pm): but he did say that we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this semester and I said “I hope that’s not a bad thing” and he said it’s not!!

Sophie Mendez (8:51pm): WOW

Y/N L/N (8:52pm): I know

Sophie Mendez (8:52pm): I love this for you, a professor romance

Y/N L/N (8:52pm): It’s not a romance

Sophie Mendez (8:53pm): ***a professor flirtation

Y/N L/N (8:54pm): More accurate

January 31st, 2018

You bit into an apple and chewed, quietly of course, but it’s not like there wasn’t enough noise in the classroom when Professor Sudeikis turned to see the class. “So what’s our goal with a spec script?”

Quiet for a second, as if they were too nervous to raise a hand and get it wrong. Peer discussions left you with a few minutes to glance around the room, check your email or type up whatever homework assignment he’d decided on. 

“Oh come on,” he laughed a little. “You should have learned this your first year.”

The girl in the front row with short blonde hair--the one who made that face at her friend last week--shot her hand up with an eager smile in his direction. 

“Ultimately to sell it, but also to provide the reader or the studio with a general glance at the story we’re telling.”

“Right,” he nodded. “And what should it not have?”

The same girl raised her hand again. Barf. 

“Camera movements, production and direction notes.”

“Right again.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. Were you jealous? Was an undergrad in her early twenties really igniting a pettiness in you that no 27-year-old should have? A wave of embarrassment crashed when the undergrad smiled at you. 

“Alright--let’s call it there for today. Remember the reading due next week, and we’ll do our first small group critique so bring your specs and we’ll go from there!”

The room was brought back to life, papers shuffled and chatter among the students when Professor Sudeikis walked back over to the table in the front of the class. He glanced at his phone quickly and then peered up at you. “Can you stay after, for a second?”

You were standing now, packing up your own belongings at the table off to the side--the one that separated you from the rest of the lecture hall but the one that kept you a safe distance from him. A nod when you smiled, “yeah, sure.”

So you stood there, scrolled through emails and answered texts about a group project, wondering what you’d make for dinner tonight after your walk home. He answered a few questions when students strolled out, waved them off before he turned to see you. 

“Hi,” he said quickly, a change in tone once he was sure it was just the two of you.

“Hi,” you mirrored him, a small smile when he let out a breath. 

“I just realized, earlier today--I don’t have your phone number.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily, lips forming an ‘o’ when he backtracked. 

“You know--so I can text you about TA stuff or grading stuff, or--that type of thing.”

“Right,” you nodded, a few steps towards him. “Of course.”

He picked his phone back up, looked up and met your eyes. 

“It’s 212…555…8495.”

That wasn’t weird, right? He was your advisor, he was your professor. But things worked differently in grad school. You weren’t a kid and you weren’t young, he didn’t have the same amount of power he had with the undergrads. 

You were both adults. One of you with a PhD and one of you pursuing a Masters. Both of you with an interest in Film and TV and this wasn’t that big of a deal.

Your phone dinged in your hand when he clicked his shut. 

212-555-2502 (8:37pm): Jason

He was smiling slightly when you looked back up at him. “You can call me that, by the way.”

“Jason?”

He shrugged playfully, “I mean, it is my name.”

“I’m aware,” you rolled your eyes. 

He moved back to belongings, packed things up slowly while he glanced up at you. “You know, you’re one of the only grad students who calls me Professor.”

“Really?”

“Don’t you hear everyone else call me Jason?”

“Either that or Sudeikis,” you admitted. 

He teased a little: “is my first name too personal for you?”

“No,” you narrowed your eyes. “Just trying to be respectful.���

“Ah,” he nodded, a smirk crawled onto his lips before he broke eye contact. “Well, consider me respected--but, really, Jason is fine.”

“Got it,” you nodded. 

Once his messenger bag was on his shoulder, he pushed his chin towards the door. “Headed out?”

“Yeah,” you moved towards the door, letting him fall in step with you towards the elevator. 

“Do you live close, or--?”

“Yeah, East Village,” you answered. “Ten minute walk.”

His eyes lit up. “Please tell me you’ve been to Pineapple Club--”

“It’s the only place I will drink a martini,” you laughed. “How do you know it?”

He hesitated, like his answer was telling or too close to the vest. “Uh--I’ve actually gone on a couple of dates there.”

You forced a smile, one that hopefully read as: how sweet!

“But their martini’s are…yeah, kick ass, honestly.”

You both laughed and the elevator doors shut. 

“And you live in Brooklyn, right?”

He smiled a little but you clarified: “I just remember you mentioning it last semester or something.”

“Yep,” he nodded. “Been there almost ten years, so--I love it.”

“What’s your favorite part?”

“Of Brooklyn?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, thought on it for a second like no one had asked him before. “Good food, good view of the city. Quieter than midtown which is where I used to live.”

“That sounds terrible,” you said honestly. 

“It was.”

The elevator came to a halt and the doors spread apart, you walked out behind him and wondered if his pulse picked up the same way yours did whenever you were in a small space, like that, alone. Probably not. 

“Well,” he turned over his shoulder, offering a two-finger salute. “Have a good night.”

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: OKAY HELLO! Chapter one is finally up! This one is a little short, and tbh I have no clue what the posting schedule will be. But I'm so excited for this wild ride! LMK what you think!