#The cover art....that's a college textbook if I ever saw one

[spockvarietyhour]

big "TA showing you the campus books you'll need to buy this semester" energy

[botnasty]

Part One: I Heard A Theory

Roommate!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Summary: Bucky heard an interesting theory about cum…

Words: 1,4K words

Warnings: SMUT, mention of oral F, ORAL (M), slight praise and degradation kink, slight daddy kink (like I just mention daddy once at the end lol)

Note: All mistakes are mine and please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. And also don’t be shy, if anyone wants to become mutual, just come into my inbox :)

Not proofread

Part Two

Series Masterlist

You groaned as you banged your head against the desk. The vibration making your open laptop shake and a few pencils falling to the carpet of your bedroom. It was exam week and you were exhausted. All you’ve been doing for the past day is wake up, study and eat. A very problematic routine, but it had to be done if you wanted to raise your grades.

You looked up to your laptop, your chin rested on the wood, as you looked at, what felt, hundreds of tabs open. Your laptop was so hot and loud from the overuse, you were pretty sure it was gonna explode if you used it for another second.

Just like your brain.

It was so fried you felt like you were getting dumber by the second.

A knock on the door is what makes you lean back into your chair. You turned around and smiled when you saw your roommate and best friend Bucky Barnes. He had been your best friend since middle school, so it was very fitting to move in with him when you both went to college. While you were studying medicine, he was in the art world. His dream is to become a tattoo artist, which is why his left arm is covered in tattoos.

“Hey, toots, haven't seen you in a while!” The man exclaimed as he went straight for your bed and layed on in.

“Hey, Buck, yeah sure make yourself at home.” You sarcastically said to him as you went back to your textbook.

“Well, if we are being honest here, this is technically my home, toots.”

You waved your hand at him. “Yeah, yeah.”

You jumped when you saw the pencils that felt down poking at you. Bucky had picked them for you with a big smile. “Thank you.” You grabbed them from his hands and went to your book.

As you tried to read, you couldn’t help but glance at Bucky who was still laying down on your duvet, his phone in his hand. His other hand lay on his lap, very very close to his crotch. Bucky was one hell of a man, a man you had a severe attraction to, you couldn’t lie to yourself, but never would you jeopardize your friendship.

Not until he does the first move.

You groaned as you went back to your textbook, now annoyed at the fact you were getting turned on at this moment. Your mind was flashing your image of you two, in bed, very much naked. Pictures of his big hands on your skin, his long finger inside your cunt and his tongue circling around your clit.

Your head banged once again against your desk at the flashes. Your clit was now throbbing and you needed for Bucky to get out so you could take care of it.

You heard rustling being you and a hand patting your head. “You okay in that head of yours.” Bucky laughed. “You should probably take a break before you become dumber instead of smarter.”

“This is probably the best idea you’ve ever gotten, ever.” You mumbled in your book. “I do feel stupid.”

“Well, you know. I read somewhere that if you drink cum from a smart person, you become smarter.” He suddenly said, biting the inside of his cheek, as if he was waiting for your reaction.

Your head rose up and you turned around to look at the man. “The fuck is you talking about?” Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

Bucky raised his hand up, like a sign of defeat, and looked at you with an innocent gaze. “Just saying what I read.”

You glare at him. Him and his perverseness will be the death of you. “Oh, and what is the name of your source? Is it trustworthy?” You tell him nonchalantly, slightly amused by this conversation and aroused at the same time.

“Well…” He bopped his head as he continued. “I would say, I’m pretty trustworthy.”

This made you laugh.

You shook your head. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. What am I gonna do with you?”

“Suck me off?” He innocently said.

You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, when on the inside your heart was jumping around. “Sure.” You got up your chair and got on your knees in front of his closed legs.

Bucky seemed to be in a daze, completely caught out guard. “What?”

“Open your leg, baby. I’m gonna suck your cock.” You tap his thick thighs and part them. As you pulled down a little his grey sweatpants could swear you heard him say ‘fuck me’ under his breath. You licked your lips when you saw the outline of his cock under his sweatpants. He must not be wearing boxers which made your cunt squeeze and gush with wetness.

When you fully pulled them down, you gasped when you saw his cock slap against his stomach. He was so long and girthy, you were scared he wasn’t gonna fit in your mouth, but when you saw the pulsing vein on the side of his cock, you couldn’t help but lick your lips before placing a kiss on it.

You grabbed the base and pulled his cock closer to your mouth as you kissed it all over. On the base first and licking your way up to the tips. You smirked when you felt him twitch in your hand. “Fuck, toots. Such a fucking tease.” Bucky whimpered as he threw his head back. His hand goes to the base of your neck, gripping it with such force to keep you there.

You licked your lips when you saw pre-cum oozed out of the tip. You couldn’t wait to taste. You wrapped your lips around the tip and french kissed it, your tongue licking the cum. You moaned around his cock, when you finally got a taste of him.

“Please, stop teasing. Please.” Bucky was now begging you, but never did he push down your head so you would swallow more. He was going at your pace and you appreciate him more for that.

You could hear him beg in his breath and that was what made you snap. You opened your jaw more and swallowed him down the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat. You gagged a little before bopping your head up and down, this time with the help of Bucky. He had now placed both of his hands on your head and was pushing your head up and down his cock, all while he was moaning and grunting.

“So fucking good, baby. So warm and wet.” He praised you and you could feel your juice running down your thighs. You were so turned on by his cock and his praise that you couldn’t help but bring one of your hands down to your cunt. You pulled your panties to the side and started rubbing circles around your clit.

You looked up at Bucky and you saw his eyes darken when he saw what you were doing. “You fucking whore. Is sucking my dick that much of a turn on. My good fucking whore.” You eyes widen. He pulled your arm up and put your gush-covered fingers inside of his mouth. You were sure you could’ve been able to cum just by that and the sound he made when he tasted you.

You whined when Bucky pulled your head up, his cock sliding out of your mouth. “Open your mouth and close your eyes, baby.” He grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down. He was glistening with your saliva. “Fuck, it’s coming, toots. Hope your ready.”

“Give it to me, daddy.” And you opened your mouth. He let out a loud moan at what you called him and rubbed faster. You shivered when you felt his cum landing inside of your mouth, on your cheeks and eyelid.

You heard him laugh as you swallowed his load. “So, do you feel smarter?”

You swiped the cum that landed on your cheek with your finger and sucked on them loudly. A whine escaped Bucky’s mouth. “Well, I do feel more relaxed than before that’s for sure.”

He brought you closer to him and kissed your lips. “Well, wanna know what else I heard.”

“What?” You said mindlessly, your eyes focused on his lips, almost pleading him to kiss you once again.

“I read that there is a better chance to get smarter: if you let someone cum inside of you. Wanna test that theory?”

Thank you for reading and feel free to repost or comment what you think :)

[softwired]

the lycanthrope and the lumberjack

fandom ◦ MDZS pairing ◦ SangCheng rating ◦ Teen word count ◦ 1,229 notes ◦ there are no lycanthropes or lumberjacks in this (although they are mentioned) modern au - high school

read on ao3

Huaisang was grounded. This time it wasn’t for bringing home an animal without permission. It wasn’t for sneaking out, going to a party where someone’s older sibling had bought cheap vodka for a bunch of high schoolers to get trashed on, or for shoplifting—which had only happened once. It also wasn’t for sticking Mingjue’s keys to the kitchen counter with superglue or putting food coloring in the washer. No, this time he, a charismatic, popular, infamously ill-behaved junior in high school, was grounded as the extremely boring result of failing an exam.

This was nothing new. Not that Huaisang’s grades were bad. They were actually above average, perfectly in the range he wanted them to be. He’d scoped out his top five art schools three years ago and knew exactly what he needed on his transcripts to be accepted at any of them. He had even studied for placement tests when no one, especially his brother, was around to see it. He’d hidden the test guides at the bottom of a box of vintage porn mags. If Mingjue ever found those, they’d go straight into the incinerator in the apartment building’s basement. He was counting on it.

But, regardless of his unique methods of preparing for college, failing an extremely boring history exam still got him in trouble. So, here he was, sitting on his bed with a textbook in hand. Notebooks were spread out on either side of him, an open pack of highlighters and his careworn macaw-shaped pencil case alongside them.

The pencil case had been a gift from Wei Wuxian when they’d gone to the zoo together in fourth grade. Jiang Cheng had sewn a new zipper on it for him only last year. It was purple, just like the new liner he’d made for it when they were Freshmen. Jiang Cheng was talented and thoughtful, but he’d only had one favorite color in his entire life.

His bedroom door suddenly swung open. Huaisang rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up. He waited for almost a minute as Mingjue scanned the room for evidence that he’d been slacking off. Of course, there was nothing to find.

Finally, he said in a bored tone, “Looking for something?”

Mingjue sniffed. Huaisang saw him nod out of the corner of his eye.

“I need to run to the corner store. If you leave this room while I’m gone, I’m keeping your phone for another week.”

“I haven’t escaped from a babysitter in over ten years.” Huaisang made a show of turning a page.

“Yeah, not since you learned all new ways to be a pain in my ass.”

Huaisang stuck his tongue out.

Mingjue chuckled. Already softening up. At this rate, Huaisang could get his phone back a few days early. He hadn’t been able to text Jiang Cheng while his friend was away at a martial arts competition and it was killing him.

“Back in thirty. Don’t move,” Mingjue warned.

“Uh-huh.”

The door shut. Nie Huaisang watched it for a few minutes, listened for the sound of his brother leaving, then dropped the textbook into his lap, revealing the trashy romance novel he’d been concealing inside it. On the cover was a long-haired man tearing his own shirt off, oiled muscles gleaming under a poorly photoshopped moon in an over-saturated violet sky. The title, in poorly kerned embossed silver script, was “PHASES”.

He went back to his place on page two-hundred-and-eleven where the werewolf love interest was trying to convince the main character that a relationship between a human and a lycanthrope could never work. The love interest, a part time lumberjack, wasn’t buying it. Neither was Huaisang.

He leaned back in his bed, pulling his hair out of its bun and pillowing his head on his arm. The lumberjack was nothing like Huaisang, but the angsty werewolf guy was a dead ringer for Jiang Cheng. He’d even tried to get his friend to borrow this book a couple of months ago as a very unsubtle hint. But Jiang Cheng had been so embarrassed when confronted with the cover that he’d nearly run into a wall trying to escape. It wasn’t even porn! Huaisang had written more graphic sex scenes in text messages to Wei Wuxian while sitting next to Jiang Cheng in biology!

After that, he hadn’t pushed the subject. Instead, he’d enjoyed reading this terrible novel four or five times and basking in his long-standing crush on his best friend. He’d been in love with Jiang Cheng since middle school, way before the other boy grew the broad shoulders and muscular arms that Huaisang now leapt into every chance he got. He’d long ago decided that his feelings only made their friendship better. Plus, Jiang Cheng was too awkward to date, so he’d never had any reason to be jealous. At least, not yet.

The sound of something softly hitting the window interrupted his lazy ruminations on his best friend’s muscles. He got up to look and found the exact person he’d been thinking of peering up at him, sharply illuminated by the white street light buzzing away nearby. He rushed to push the window open and lean out.

“A-Cheng!” Another look revealed Wei Wuxian’s head between Jiang Cheng’s thighs, holding him up so he could reach the window. They were stacked unsteadily on top of a large air conditioning unit.

“Huaisang! I told you he was fine!” Wei Wuxian hollered. Jiang Cheng slapped his forehead.

“Shut up and stay still!” he said in a harsh whisper.

“What are you two doing here?” Huaisang asked, leaning towards Jiang Cheng with his elbows on the sill. “How was your competition?”

Jiang Cheng’s face contorted. “It was fine.”

“He won! My baby brother is state champion!”

Huaisang grinned. “That’s great! I’m so proud of you!”

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? Is everything okay?” Jiang Cheng sidestepping his own achievement and looking up at him with such earnest concern made Huaisang’s stomach flip.

“Sorry, I got grounded for failing that last history test. Dage took away my phone.” Huaisang put on his best pout. “Miss me?” he teased.

Jiang Cheng’s blush was almost washed out by the street light. He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Wei Wuxian smacked one of his brother’s thighs.

“Hey! Hurry up! I can’t hold your heavy ass up all night, Romeo.”

It was Huaisang’s turn to blush. He could live with playing Juliet in this scenario.

“I’m fine,” he told Jiang Cheng softly. “Thank you for checking on me. I’ll have my phone back in a few days and I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?” He reached out to pat Jiang Cheng’s head, an old habit. His friend surprised him by catching his wrist and pulling. He scrambled to hold onto the window and found himself inches from Jiang Cheng’s flushed face.

“I did miss you,” he whispered, breath warm on Huaisang’s lips. Then, Jiang Cheng kissed him.

Wei Wuxian’s wolf whistle was choked off in the middle. “Shit! Dage alert!” He jostled his brother, forcing them apart. But, even the thought of Mingjue catching them and grounding Huaisang for another month couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

Jiang Cheng was scowling as he released Huaisang’s arm.

“Stop getting in trouble!” he half-whispered, half-shouted as his human ladder began to destabilize in panic.

Huaisang laughed, nodding.

“I missed you too.”

[quarantinevibes2020]

LoveDrug

Summary:  That trope where someone's eyes dilate when they see someone they love. That's it. That's the whole fic. OR Virgil and his accomplice play matchmakers for some literal star-crossed lovers.

Word count: 2198

Pairing: Romantic Roman/ Logan (college AU)

Warnings: drinking (not underage), other drugs mentioned but no one uses any

Yes this happened to me. Hush and let me project

AO3 Link

Roman was going to murder his roommate. Or at least shave an eyebrow off in his sleep.

He had been trying to navigate a small apartment decorated in polaroids and newspaper paintings, crowded with people he didn’t know. He had done his best flitting around from group to group: parties weren’t exactly a foreign entity to him and usually he would relish in the chance to make new friends. However, he had been looking for a particularly stormy visage among the sea of people.

He locked eyes with his target: Virgil Kross, aforementioned roommate who had dragged him here in the beginning of the night and told him to stay close before uncharacteristically darting off.

The get together was for everyone in Virgil’s physics class and when Roman found him, Virgil was propped up against a wall and sitting on some steps, swirling around a cider and talking to someone in square glasses and an almost comically over-formal button down.

Virgil caught his eye and lifted an eyebrow. Roman shook his head in a restrained don’t you dare Virgil I swear sort of way. Virgil either didn’t see it or outright ignored him. He waved Roman over, made some sort of excuse that Roman didn’t hear, and left the two alone.

Roman was going to fill Virgil’s pillowcase with popcorn kernels. He was going to tape his toothbrush to the ceiling. He was going to hide his socks in the freezer. He was going to-

“Roman?”

Roman sucked in a breath, litany of threats against his horrible, no good roommate suddenly coming to a halt.

In front of him sat Logan Nova, Virgil’s study partner from when he had taken astronomy a semester ago and also, less important, the person Roman had been pining for ever since Virgil had dragged them on their fieldtrip in September. The class was supposed to map out the stars they saw, identify them, and measure their distances or something. Roman didn’t really keep track of the details. He wasn’t even too interested in looking at the stars, coming from a city where they were mostly blocked out by the light pollution.

And sure, they were pretty in the open sky, but not prettier than the wide eyes that drank them in, than the elated expression that same face had when Roman asked him a question about the class since Virgil was off probably shotgunning a beer with their professor and Roman was bored out of his mind. Logan had shown Roman his star maps and pulled out a worn out textbook with tenderly placed bookmarks of his favorite constellations. Roman had been fascinated by the stories behind them and the two spent the night going through the book, cover to cover.

By the end, Roman was sure he never thought the stars were beautiful until he saw them reflected in Logan’s eyes.

Virgil continued to bring Logan over, even after their astronomy classes had ended, sometimes completely unannounced, before flouncing off to run some errands with his art major friends (how Virgil managed to double major never ceased to amaze Roman, especially given that both those majors were so hard). And for the past six months, Roman had gone from crushing to something close to besotted. It wasn’t something very easy to hide so the next time Roman caught that spider he was going to put ice down his back and-

“Um, there aren’t anymore seats. I can move if you’d like?”

Logan’s voice brought Roman back to the present. He took an extra swig of his drink, hoping that Logan wouldn’t notice how he almost downed it for the courage, and shook his head.

“Scooch on over, Specs, we can share,” Roman said, the burn behind his sternum fueling his words.

Logan laughed, a little bubbly and Roman guessed that his cup was full of something with a similar texture, and moved for Roman to balance on half the seat.

Roman took another sip, looking out over the room of people.

“So this is what you physics people do on a Friday night, huh?” Roman asked, a little teasingly, “not bad.”

Logan bumped him and Roman barely kept his heart from fluttering out of his chest like a frantic dove.

“Did you see how drunk half the class got at the Meteor Fields?”

Roman snorted, “Fair. We almost had to carry Virgil back to the room.”

“You almost had to carry him. I did carry him.”

Roman made a noise of offense, “Excuse me! I am a knight in shining armor! Not a carriage!”

Logan laughed and Roman finally turned to look at him, startling when his face was much closer than he had anticipated.

“I don’t appreciate that I am the carriage in this metaphor,” Logan said with a faux-pout. Roman wanted to quip something back, but he had something of an elephant-sized lump in his throat. Logan tilted his head before leaning in. Roman just barely managed not to squeak.

“Goodness,” Logan said, “your eyes are so dilated!”

Roman blinked, taking another sip of his drink and trying to will a blush down.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Logan exclaimed back, leaning in even more and woo-boy was he close.

Roman looked to his drink slightly, not able to hold Logan’s wide eyes for a second without turning cherry-red.

“It’s pretty bright in here, they shouldn’t be,” Roman said, trying to ‘science it out’ like Logan loved to do. Logan, mercifully to Roman’s thundering pulse, sat back a bit: considering.

“Well. Quite a few things can cause one’s pupils to dilate. Lack of light. Opiate withdrawal. Looking at someone you’re attracted to. Love. Parasympathetic activat-”

“Coke,” Roman nearly choked out. Logan paused in the list he was rattling off and blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Coke. I did coke. Just- whole line of cocaine all in one gulp.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t drink cocaine, Roman. Furthermore-”

Roman didn’t hear the rest of Logan’s sentence. He pushed off the wire seating, sputtering out something about refilling his drink, and made a beeline for the back exit.

When he got to the balcony, he nearly slammed his head into the corner of the railing.

Well Roman thought miserably better for him to think you’re on drugs than hopelessly in love with him. Really dodged a bullet there.

The thought didn’t help. Roman let out a groan and let himself slump. He poked his legs between the columns of the balcony and swung his feet. Above him, the sky was hazy. The moon was barely visible as it peeked through a curtain of clouds. Not a star in the sky. A part of Roman thought that was rather fitting given how royally he had just messed up.

A door opened and closed behind him. For a moment, Roman thought it was Virgil from how quiet the footsteps were and was about to get up and tell him he was heading out when he turned around.

Logan Nova, adorable wavy black hair and now slightly-crumpled but still endearing button down, was staring back at him. Clutching his drink a little as he moved to sit next to Roman. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then-

“Whoever your dealer is, I don’t think they gave you cocaine,” he finally said.

Roman swiveled around to meet his eyes. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed even further.

“Your eyes are dilated again. And while that is a symptom of its ingestion, your behavior otherwise does not indicate its use.”

Something bubbled out of Roman’s throat. For a horrifying moment, Roman thought it was his drink trying to take revenge, but no- it was laughter. Croaky at first, but rapidly devolving into full-bellied howling.

“Perhaps I misjudged?” Logan said after Roman’s guffaws continued, Roman shook his head, trying to stop the shake in his shoulders as Logan, obviously more than a little concerned at Roman’s ‘illicit drug use’, got more and more worried by the minute.

“I didn’t do any drugs, Logan,” Roman finally got out between heaving breaths. Logan stuck out his bottom lip a little.

“But you said..?”

Roman waved at him, he must have misjudged the distance because his hand caught Logan’s shoulder but Roman didn’t feel like moving it.

“I know what I said,” Roman said, laughter trickling, “I know, it was stupid, I promise though. I haven’t had anything besides this crappy beer and,” Roman took in a breath, now or never he guessed, “maybe a little love,” he finished quietly, not sure whether he should thank the alcohol or curse it for letting him say it.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, “Lovedrug? Like ecstacy?!”

“What?!” Roman shot back, looking incredulous before rubbing his face, “NO, not- not lovedrug you-UGH- how are you smart but so dense??”

Logan only blinked in return. Roman supposed he deserved that.

“Lo,” Roman said, taking his legs out of the balcony and setting them in a lazy kneel, “what were the things you listed off for making someone’s eyes dilate?”

Logan’s nose scrunched, “Em. Parasympathetic activation?”

“Keep going,” Roman said, exasperated but woefully fond.

“Ecstasy would certainly be on the list.”

“Logan.”

Logan huffed, “Ah. I believe I also said looking at someone you’re attract-”

Logan stopped. His expression almost sent Roman into hysterics again but he didn’t give in because if he did he might have ended up crying.

“Oh,” Logan said in a small voice.

“Yeah, oh” Roman echoed softly, “sorry I lied, I kind of just. Panicked. A little.”

“So you led me to believe you had taken a bad strain of cocaine?” Logan replied, voice strained but still shocked out of emotion.

Roman squirmed. “Yee. My bad, you don’t- you know. Have to say anything though. I know you don’t- I just wanted you to know since you seemed a little freaked that I was having a bad drug reaction.”

“You know I don’t what?” Logan asked suddenly as he spun to face Roman. Roman looked down and scratched his nose.

“You don’t-ugh. Don’t make me say it dude, you know what I mean.”

“Roman, look at me.”

Boy, Logan was not making it easy. But he supposed if he was going to get rejected, he should look at him straight in the eyes. At least he’d retain some of his dignity then. Roman lifted his chin.

“What color are my eyes?”

Roman blinked, a little caught off-guard from the question. Was it that obvious that Roman had been waxing poetic about Logan’s eyes in his own mind from the moment he had met him? How they caught the light and sucked it in, like two galaxies swirling in his irises. How his lashes curled naturally, almost touching his brow bone when they were alight with wonder. How it didn’t even matter now that he couldn’t see a star in the sky because they were all caught in Logan’s eyes. They were a force of gravity pulling him in and everything else with them.

“…black?” Roman said, tamping down on his raging thoughts. Logan cocked his head.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

Roman almost would have been offended if Logan hadn’t chosen that moment to tug Roman’s chin towards him.

“Look closer,” Logan said.

Breathe, dumbass Roman’s brain said. He listened to both as he squinted.

There were still the swirling galaxies in the middle. The soft gaze did nothing to curb that, but there- Roman tilted his head as he saw something else. Like the sun brimming over the earth, a honey brown at the very edges. Logan must have seen Roman’s expression as he realized it.

“My eyes are amber, Roman.”

There was something in Logan’s voice, it was the same one he used when he was helping Roman with his GenEd calc class. Like he was trying to lead him somewhere. If Logan’s eyes were amber, then his pupils must have been massive because they took up the majority of the…oh.

“But-I-I don’t,” Roman stuttered.

“What were the reasons for someone’s eyes to dilate?” Logan pushed.

“Didn’t take you for a coke guy,” Roman said, trying for cool but bordering on watery. Logan huffed, his face was so close that Roman could feel the breath.

Then, Logan’s lips were on his own and suddenly Roman could care less about eyes.

“Logan,” Roman breathed, smiling when he pulled him forward into another kiss. He turned to pepper more along his jaw bone. Logan giggled. Roman tried to stamp the sound into his brain.

“You’re amazing, you know. Amazing, smart, beautiful, so beautiful,” Roman whispered, half out of his mind as he tugged on the hair at the nape of Logan’s neck.

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” Logan managed, though it came out a bit garbled.

“Nothing can addle my brain more than your beauty already has,” Roman replied instantly, pulling Logan in again.

-

Behind the window of the balcony, a blue sweater clad boy adjusted his round glasses and gleefully took a five dollar bill from a pouting spider.

“I told you all they needed was a little push,” whispered the glasses boy.

“Fucking finally,” replied the spider, not missing his five dollars all that much.

[moonbeamwritings]

relentless teasing

Summary: After another unfortunate encounter with Dio in the university library, you finally put an end to his endless teasing, much to his dismay. How is he going to get himself out of this one? (Modern/College AU)

Author’s Note: Hi! I’ve never written for Dio before, but I wanted to toy with him not being a murderer, but rather an emotionally incompetent, overly flirtatious college guy. Let me know what you think!

You glanced over your shoulder as you nestled into a corner of the library, praying that you wouldn’t see him. Or rather that he wouldn’t see you.

Dio Brando had elected to make you the newest object of his torments for reasons completely lost on you. He was relentless. Coming up behind you to purr in your ear, boasting about his prowess in the bedroom or on the rugby field. It never seemed to end.

Sure you found him attractive, most people did, but you couldn’t help feeling as though he was playing some elaborate prank on you. Maybe he had picked up on your shy behavior, looking to butter you up for the express purpose of ridiculing you after finding out that, in some dark corner of your mind, you have a crush on him. 

No thank you.

You had even gone so far as to change up your usual seat in the library, aiming to throw him off your trail to spare yourself from his presence. Barely even remembering how this cat-and-mouse game began, you prayed to whatever god would listen for some salvation from your own personal hell.

Pulling out your laptop, you lost yourself in an assignment, frantically typing out your responses as you relished in the peace and quiet.

“Funny seeing you here.”

You knew that voice.

Without even looking up, you replied, “Hi Dio.”

“Ouch,” he responded, dramatically landing in the chair next to you and wasting no time in slinging his arm along the back of your chair, “I can’t even get a look at your pretty face?”

The teasing lilt in his voice only served to make the situation worse. You felt your cheeks burn, seemingly working to fry your brain. Not good.

“What, love? Can’t speak? Cat got your tongue? Now, that’s just a shame,” His voice was a low purr, a deep rumble in his chest.

You were certain you were short circuiting.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he leaned impossibly closer, “I think you like me, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

Feeling your stomach drop at being found out, your fingers drifted away from the keyboard and up to cover your face.

“God,” the sigh that left your mouth sounds much more defeated than you had meant it to, “it’s not funny, ya know?”

You risked a glance at his face just as an unreadable expression crossed his features, brows creasing as he leaned away from you.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you only do this to tease me and it’s not funny anymore.”

“Is that what you really-”

“Yes.”

You interrupted him before he could finish, tired of this song and dance. He stared at you for a moment and you almost felt guilty. He appeared so… defeated, like you’d single-handedly ruined his day.

“I didn’t realize my presence was that intolerable.” His tone was biting, more sour than you’d ever heard it.

“Dio, I didn’t mean-”

He moved to stand, “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

“Dio,” you pleaded again, but he wasn’t hearing it, strutting away without even a second glance.

Fuck. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, you just wanted him to be genuine. For once. Now he’d probably never speak to you again.

Leaving the library with a dejected sigh, Dio headed back to his apartment, fully prepared to throttle Jonathan. He had been the one to suggest that Dio pursue you, so certainly it was his fault that it had amounted to this.

Jonathan had seen Dio’s longing glances at you one too many times, both of them having shared multiple classes with you. He’d never seen Dio look at anyone like that, so he encouraged him to start talking to you. Little did Jonathan know that the Dio Brando Method bordered on ridicule and accentuated some of Dio’s worst qualities. The confidence, the playboy attitude, the teasing. He cringed just thinking about the times he had overheard Dio teasing you in the library, sounding more mean than anything else.

Slamming the door open, Dio started yelling before even seeing who was home, “Jonathan!”

Jonathan flinched at the sound, pausing the movie he and Erina had been watching, “What is it Dio?”

“Why won’t they give me the time of day? I try, do I not?” Dio practically threw himself on the empty chair, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, diving right into a detailed account of his encounter with you.

Jonathan let out a hum, choosing his words very carefully so as to not instigate a blow-out. Erina didn’t deserve that.

“Maybe if you toned down the teasing you’d come off as more sincere,” he finally replied, observing Dio carefully.

“Ugh,” Dio groaned, doing nothing to hide his displeasure, “What do you know? I don’t even know why I asked.”

Jonathan was experienced, too experienced, in the art of drawing Dio back from the brink. Years of punches and fits of rage taught him at least that much.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes.”

Erina chimed in, having been filled in on all of the drama by Jonathan, “Have you ever tried talking to them like a normal person?”

Dio shot up, pointing a finger in her direction, “Shut up. They’re not normal, it’s-”

“No way,” she replied, a knowing smile lighting up her face, “You really like them.”

“Just tell me how to fix it.” His voice bordered on a whine, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was you, in whatever way you’d have him.

“The next time you see them, just try talking to them. No teasing, no invading their personal space. Nothing.”

“But-”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, “You wanted my help didn’t you?”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment before Dio dragged himself up from his spot in the living room, “Fine. I’ll try.”

  Dio didn’t see you for another week. He couldn’t tell if you were avoiding him or if he was inadvertently avoiding you, growing uncharacteristically nervous at the thought of seeing you again. Nevertheless, he found himself longing to see you again. You always looked so cute when he saw you in the library, furrowed brow as you concentrated on your studies. Surely he couldn’t be entirely to blame for wanting to tease you a little bit, right?

Shaking his head, he found a spot at a vacant table near a large window, looking to get some homework done. Dio lost himself in his law textbook, furiously trying to accomplish an assignment all while thoughts of you swam in his head. After an hour of silence, he was startled by the sound of the chair across from him being pulled out.

It was like he was seeing an angel incarnate. You were standing in front of him with a small, almost sheepish smile on your face, backpack slung on one shoulder, hand gripping the chair in front of you. You’d never looked so beautiful.

“Sorry. Do you mind?” You asked, not wanting to intrude, especially after how poorly things had ended last time.

He shook his head, brain still trying to process what was happening.

“Dio I-” You let out a shaky breath, not quite meeting his gaze, “I’m sorry. About last time, I mean. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It was-”

He interrupted you before you could go any further, “Don’t apologize. I was being an asshole.”

“No, that’s not-”

“Love, will you please just let me finish?”

He waited for you to nod before he continued, “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to caring or even apologizing, but you make me want to do both. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do care about you and I’m sorry I made you think I was only talking to you to make fun of you.”

You sat there with your mouth slightly agape. He couldn’t be serious. No way.

“You’re serious?” You asked, hesitating to trust the situation, but remaining cautiously optimistic.

He nodded somewhat solemnly, afraid you’d reject him, “Yes.”

If Dio thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely stunning now. The smile that graced your features was more than enough to blind him, but he’d gladly accept that fate if it meant that was the last thing he’d ever see. He felt his heart melt.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, starting to smile himself.

“I don’t know,” You responded with feigned innocence, “You tell me.”

He rolled his eyes, his smile slipping into a smirk, “That easy, huh? All I had to do was apologize?”

You shrugged, “Hmm, I think you owe me a date, Mr. Brando. Ya know, for the emotional damages.”

“Why you little,” He nearly lunged across the table at you, resting a hand along your neck as he pulled you into a searing kiss.

Maybe his teasing wasn’t so bad after all.

[ally-127]

Can I request study date with mingyu at the library but your skirt is a little to short for his liking and then... I’ll let you decide lmao

study date

pairing : mingyu x reader ( college!AU ) word count : 2.5k warnings : public sex; exhibitionism; teasing; degradation; fingering; orgasm denial; music : ‘flow’ by monsta x a/n : i added some fluffy, slice of life at the start because who would i be without that

it was sunny out that day, rays of golden sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. lively birds chirped outside your window, accompanied by the hustle and bustle down the streets of seoul.

it was a nice day to have plans, which was how you quickly scrambled for your phone to text mingyu in order to make some in the first place.

study date at the library?

he replied you less than a minute later.

see you at 12 :)

shoving a thick block of a textbook for constitutional law into your tote bag along with your laptop and some loose sheets of lined paper, you set the bag down in front of your door before sorting through your dresser for something loose and light to wear.

to your surprise, you managed to find a dress in the small expanse of your drawers. it was made of black satin and had long, thin strings all over the place. as you put it on with a slight struggle, you realised that the dress had a slight cowl neckline in the front and backless, tied together by a ribbon just between your shoulder blades.

this resulted in you discarding your bra from underneath. it was a daring move, considering how thin the material is, but you were running out of time and couldn’t be bothered to find another outfit. besides, you also wanted to give mingyu a little tease just for the kicks.

after quickly lacing up your favourite pair of matching black low-cut converses, you were out the door in less than five minutes.

the walk to the library was not as pleasant as you had expected it to be. the weather was warmer than usual. it was a sign of spring transitioning into summer.

the midday, sizzling heat and the humid air drew perspiration from your skin.

by the time you’d reached the designated location, you were covered in light sheen of sweat and your hair was pulled up into a mess of a bun on the top of your head.

at least your mascara and eyeliner were waterproof.

the library was packed with people, mostly students. their heads were all bent, almost to ninety degrees, in focused silence. there were hushed murmurs here and there, but other than that the place was mostly quiet.

as it should be.

you pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, your eyes scanning the area to look for a particularly tall boy with particularly sharp canines and a particularly sweet smile.

“looking for me?” a low voice asked from behind you.

you jumped, startled.

mingyu stood in front of you, clad in a classic black t-shirt and light-washed, ripped jeans. his hair, the colour of milk chocolate, was swept away from his face. those strands looked incredibly soft you were one step away from asking what his shampoo and conditioner were.

the heat you were now feeling was clearly not from the weather as his eyes, akin to the colour of his hair, raked down your body.

you brushed away the momentary burn of exhilaration you felt from his stare, deciding to focus on the smile that tugged by his lips.

he gave you a light kiss on the lips as a form of greeting. you offered him a bright smile in return. no words were exchanged between you two then.

that was, until you began to receive weird looks from those who occupied the tables closest to the entrance for lingering there

“come on,” you took his arm. “let’s find a place to sit.”

you two found a spot by the panelled windows that overlooked the city ahead. cars, skyscrapers and pedestrians were splashed out before you like an urban art piece.

courtesy of the sun, shadows in the shape of the grids formed on the wooden desk. this tiny detail made the entire spot an even more pleasing sight to see.

“pretty, huh?” mingyu said under his breath.

you nodded.

a minute later, you had all your materials scattered across your workspace. your laptop sat the furthest away, the presentation slides from your lecture last week on full screen for reference and your bulky textbook right under your nose.

mingyu busied himself with reading a copy of jane austen’s pride and prejudice. his space, in comparison to yours, was looking rather desolate.

“aside from being a hopeless romantic,” you mused, eyeing the book in his hand. “do you ever, you know, study?”

“already did this morning,” he murmured without looking up. he sat further back from the desk, an ankle crossed over a knee. “finished most of the syllabus covered so far. even went the extra mile to skim through the next chapter.”

“productive,” you couldn’t help the sarcasm as averted your eyes back to your book and paper, uncapping the pen to begin writing.

as time went by, you realised that mingyu was here literally only to accompany you. he didn’t have anything to do aside from indulging himself in elizabeth bennet and mr. darcy. you grinned to yourself at the fact, your heart taking massive leap in your chest.

“what’re you smiling at?” he peered past your shoulder at what you were working on. “is constitutional law that fun?”

“it’s nothing,” you waved him off.

mingyu shifted his chair forward so he was closer to you. you felt strong arms wrap around your bare shoulders and his chin resting on your collarbone.

“it’s not nothing,” his book dangled from his hand as he clasped them by your neck.

“i’m just happy,” you put your pen down. “that you’re here with me.”

“i can say the same,” his chin moved on your shoulder as he spoke. “i missed you.”

“it’s been three days,” you murmured.

“yeah, well,” he said, trailing off into a daydream. “it’s three days too long.”

“patience is a virtue,” you gave him a swift glance from the side of your eye.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked at you and now you knew you probably have said the wrong thing.

sooner or later he’d use this against you.

you resumed writing, mingyu remaining in his position with his arms enveloped around you while he peeked at your notes and textbook.

“i’m not illiterate but i can’t seem to understand a single word you’re writing,” you saw him frown in confusion in your peripheral vision as he read the information you were jotting down on paper.

“i don’t blame you,” you murmured, a mild headache beginning to form in your temples.

you sighed as you noticed one of your points about the freedom of speech needed further elaboration.

you were sure this library contained some sort of reference in the legal section that you could use. so you tapped on mingyu’s arm, silently asking him to move so you could stand up and look for it.

“where are you going?” he looked up at you.

in this close proximity, mingyu could see the slight outline of your nipples through the thin material of your dress. the buds were hardened in response to the air conditioner being blasted in this library.

you weren’t wearing a bra today.

he bit his lip, feeling himself slowly grow rigid in his pants. he silently cursed himself for reacting like a preteen who had just seen tits for the first time.

“to the law section,” you replied.

mingyu kept his eyes on you. from a lower angle, he was able discern how awfully short the skirt of your dress was and from the way you walked so carelessly it seemed like you didn’t notice it at all. the shape of your ass was highlighted even more so now, the end of your dress teasing the top most part of your thighs.

if you had just lifted your leg slightly, whatever you were wearing underneath would be exposed to the naked eye. if you were even wearing any.

he inhaled sharply, unsure on what to do with his concupiscent thoughts. he watched you disappear as you wandered further down the hall of the library.

your footsteps were light on the ground as you browsed through the different shelves of law books, eyes scanning for the word ‘constitution’. you craned your neck up, finally spotting one and reached up to get it.

it was, however, way out of your reach. no matter how much you tiptoed and how far your arms extended, there was no way of getting it. you looked around the room for a stepping stool but sadly there were none in sight. in addition to that the entire section was empty, not a soul to be seen.

so you considered jumping, your shoes thumping mutedly against the wooden floor.

obviously, that didn’t work. it only drained your energy.

almost effortlessly a second later, an arm reached up to grab the exact book you had your eye on.

before you could turn to protest, you were met by the face of your boyfriend. mingyu leaned himself against the shelf, holding the book up almost teasingly.

like holding a piece of raw meat in front of a tiger.

“looking for this?”

now, you felt like the prey.

there was a newfound hunger in the way he stared at you. a flame, bright with excitement, burned behind his eyes and it could only mean one thing.

you weren’t unfamiliar with it. you were just confused as to what triggered him or more specifically,

what turned him on.

you already had something in mind, but you wanted to tease the answer out of him.

“do you know,” he slid the book back on the shelf with ease as he took more steps closer. “that what you’re wearing is far too short?”

so that was what it’s about.

“do i?” you glanced down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

you played along, with pleasure.

“don’t talk back,” the more steps forward he took, the more steps backward you took until you were up against the wall.

mingyu was right in front of you now, lips millimetres away.

“do you enjoy other men staring at your ass like that?” he held your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger. he could force your mouth open if he pressed any harder, but he didn’t. “answer me.”

“i didn’t know anyone was staring at me,” you said truthfully but a knowing smirk swept across your lips. “and i didn’t know it would have that much of an effect on you.”

“are you sure?” his eyes trailed down to your chest, where your nipples peeked through.

“maybe i wanted to tease you,” you laughed at how tense he was, already spotting a tent in his jeans as he snaked an arm around your waist. “but that was it.”

“is it funny how hard i am for you?” he closed the distance between your bodies so his crotch grounded against your pelvic bone.

“a little,” you said, voice turning breathy as mingyu shifted his hand from your jaw down to graze the skin on your inner thigh.

heat blossomed in your core, the urge to press your thighs together apparent as his hand travelled further up your dress. his hand disappeared under your skirt, the material hiking up his wrist. the tips of his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear, almost your clit but not there just yet.

“mingyu,” your hands sought purchase on his broad shoulders, head leaning against the wall.

“is it funny now?” his whispered into your ear, long fingers unfurling to cup your sex. he pushed his hand up into you. jolts of electricity soared up your spine, your body almost jerking upwards against his from the sudden pressure.

“n-not here,” at this rate, you began to whimper.

“why not?” mingyu’s voice had noticeably gone down a couple octaves, the baritone quaking through your core. his spread his fingers in your underwear so his middle finger rubbed directly on your slit. your back arched on the wall, pressing your chest harder on him in response. your hips undulated on his hand, urging him to fucking move.

“people w-will see.”

“they’ll see how much of a slut you are,” he nipped the lobe of your ear, breath hot and needy. he stroked your clit, slow and unrelenting. “just for me.”

his words, dirty and brimming with desire, were enough to intoxicate you in a haze of what he was feeling. his lips form a sardonic grin of your state, finally giving you a taste of your own medicine.

“you like that?” his hand from your waist moved up to your breast, squeezing it and shooting pleasure straight to your aching pussy. “you like letting the whole world see you take my cock right on this wall?”

you pressed your lips on his to hide the moan the slips from them as he rubbed your clothed-sex with full force. he gladly swallowed the wanton sound of your cry, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to grant his tongue access to the depths of your heated mouth. a multitude of groans rumbled in his chest, soft enough so only you could hear, while he nudged a thigh between your legs for support and elevate your leg slightly for him to reach deeper.

your hands carded through his hair, pulling on the roots as he continued his assault on your clit. your eyes were half-closed and fluttering from overwhelming pleasure. he pushed your panties to the side, slowly and allowing the elastic to snap against your now exposed folds. you jumped, the pain eliciting a new sensation.

mingyu took the opportunity to slip his ring finger into you, your juices providing more than enough lubrication for him to glide in. the wave of your hips—rolling against his hand—became more sharp in movement, more desperate to get all of him.

“you’re so wet already,” he mumbled into your ear, sinking his finger to the hilt. “and we’ve barely just gotten started.” he added another finger—his middle—into you. he pumped his digits slowly first to stretch you out, curling the tips to stroke your walls. you moaned into his neck, his fingers increasing in pace.

“you have to be quiet for me or we’ll be in huge trouble,” mingyu ran his free hand up your neck to your lips, swiping the spit off your lips and jutting a thumb between your soft appendages. “but i’m sure you’d like that, won’t you?”

you took a moment to quirk your lips up in a smirk, trapping his thumb between your teeth, silently telling him that oh yes you’d like that very much.

“dirty slut,” he growled in your ear. “always so tight,” his fingers formed a ‘v’ shape in your inner walls for a brief second before returning to thrusting in and out of you.

soon enough a release tugged at the base of your spine. your core clenched around his digits as a mild rush of euphoria began to approach. sensing it through the increased tightness around his fingers and the excess slick that ran down your inner thighs, mingyu retracted his fingers.

a quiet whine left your lips from the orgasm that had been ripped off from you. you rocked your hips upwards in hopes that he would do something about it until he tut, shaking his head.

“patience is a virtue, my love.”

[myfearless-love]

The Wildest Place You Run (3/?) - Pretty Scary Sometimes

If anyone missed Killian in the previous chapters (because who wouldn't miss him, let's be honest) then I have good news: we are getting more Killian now that most of the flashbacks are done! I enjoyed writing this chapter as we dive deeper into the character's backstories and present happenings! I hope you like it too! Let me know :)

Also, check out the amazing and beautiful art that @thejollyroger-writer made for chapter 3 & 4!! I love how she always captures the essence of the chapters!

Summary:

Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...

Chapter: 3/? - Pretty Scary Sometimes

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Rating: M

Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Read on: FF.net or AO3

Words: ~3k

Previous parts:

Ch 1 II Ch 2

TW for this chapter: Implied miscarriage

.

"Emma! Lock the door behind us! We probably won't be back before morning…"

David's voice snapped her back out of her memories and back into the present, and she stared up at her brother with misty eyes. "What?"

"Lock the door behind us," he repeated, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, and hurried out of the kitchen.

Somewhat dazed, she started walking towards the team of Hunters, but by the time she reached the living room, they were all gone. All except Killian, who was still fumbling with his gun holsters.

Her memories still held her a little captive, she stared wearily at the front door. It had been more than half a year, but she would never forget that night or that horrible half an hour she spent in the morgue…

"It can't be him! It's probably a mistake, Neal certainly isn't…" she shook her head and sobbed hysterically.

If David hadn't been holding her, she would have simply fallen awkwardly to the shiny floor.

"Emma! It pains me too, but if he were alive, he would have come back long ago…"

"No! He's not…" she repeated tirelessly, like a broken record. She couldn't comprehend that she had lost Neal along with the little one…

"Are you sure?" The coroner stared doubtfully at Emma, and there was also a hint of pity and contempt in his gaze.

Of course. To him, he was just a corpse, but to her…

"She won't calm down until then…" David sighed somewhat bitterly and stared at the white-covered body in front of them.

"All right," the coroner shrugged.

He was a short, broad, and severely balding man, with gray hair and several days of white stubble. He reached for the edge of the sheet with his stubby fingers, but before he could pull the fabric aside, a brutally burned hand slid off the autopsy table.

The breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly forgot how to breathe. They were long, thin fingers, just like Neal's. The skin was burned almost black, cartilage showing on the fingers.

"Maybe it was a bad idea..." David whispered, pulling her head to his chest and trying to shield her vision. He tried to soothe her, even though she was no longer sobbing anymore. Her eyes widened in horror, and she gasped for air.

"I think so, too. She's quite neurotic," the doctor grunted.

"Just keep your mouth shut! We didn't ask for your opinion," David snorted.

"Sorry," he muttered in a mocking tone and sauntered off.

He grabbed something from the table and handed Robin a plastic bag containing a sooty, burnt box. "We found this a few feet from the body. Does it look familiar?" The doctor scanned the faces of the Hunters impassively.

"Oh my God…"

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"Shit…"

Emma didn't understand their outburst, she just saw the horror and shock on their faces.

"What's that?" Mary Margaret glanced at the tiny box with watery eyes.

The others, on the other hand, didn't seem to have heard the question at all, staring uncertainly at each other and the box.

"Can we have this?" inquired Robin.

"Of course. We don't need it," replied the doctor.

"How generous," Leo said.

"David, what do you think? Should we give it to her?" Robin stared at her uncertainly.

"What's in it?" Emma asked in a husky voice. "Is it something of Neal's?"

"No. It's yours," Ruby replied gently.

"No, it's not mine," she shook her head. It wasn't at all familiar to her.

"But what's inside is yours," David replied, nodding to Robin, who opened the plastic bag and carefully pulled the box out. "Emma… you probably would've figured it out or guessed, it's better to just rip the band-aid now," he whispered, stroking her hair.

Emma raised her head suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"I'm sure Neal would have been happy to see you wearing it…" he added carefully. "He was going to ask you to marry him that night…"

Robin opened the small box. Inside, her engagement ring remained perfectly intact…

She opened her eyes slowly and raised her hand in front of her face. The ring still glittered on her finger. It was made of white gold, and the most beautiful amber she had ever seen shone upon it. It was terribly painful to realize what a wonderful night it could have been, and instead, it ended with the death of her boyfriend and unborn baby. They could have been a family.

But she wore it, despite the pain it caused when she looked at it. She could still feel him a little close to her. It hurt, but not so much that she couldn't bear it.

"Swan, are you all right?" Killian was already standing on the doorstep, eyeing her anxiously.

"I'm fine," she nodded, but her tone was the slightest bit sharper than she'd intended.

"Apologies." He turned away, but she gently grasped his arm.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you or anything. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"It's alright, love." His lips twisted into a faint, understanding smile.

His good manners were sometimes in stark contrast to his appearance. His dark, almost black hair, disheveled as always, brushed against his forehead now, in need of a haircut. The thick stubble on his face was peppered here and there with a hint of ginger if the light fell on him at the right angle. His right ear was pierced and adorned with a solid black stone earring. There was no room for new tattoos on his left arm, various drawings of a compass, skull and crossbones, symbols, and plants were inked into his skin, likely to hide the age-old scar that ran from his wrist to his bicep. He also accentuated his eyes with black eyeliner, making his arctic blue eyes stand out as prominently as the North Star in the dark sky.

He wore his signature black outfit - jeans, a shirt that was always missing a few buttons at the top to reveal a generous patch of dark hair, leather jacket, and combat boots.

All in all, he looked like a textbook bad boy, which was why Emma preferred to keep her distance from him.

"You better get going," she remarked as the front door closed behind the others.

"They won't leave without me, anyway. Who would look out for them?" he let out a laugh, attaching a pistol holster to his hip. "Take care, ladies," he nodded to her from the other side of the doorstep, then disappeared into the night after the others.

Emma retreated into the apartment and carefully locked the door, padlocking it as a precaution. No one could say she hadn't heeded their warning.

"Are they gone?" Mary Margaret sank down on the couch.

"Yeah," Emma nodded and plopped down next to her friend.

She closed her eyes, leaned against the headrest, and stared up at the ceiling.

"I wonder what they're trying to accomplish with all this," Mary Margaret shook her head. "Rebellions everywhere, in almost every country. They can't defeat us, so what do they want?"

"I don't care what they want. All the damn beasts need to be wiped out," Emma hissed.

Ever since that night, she hated those monsters even more, and honestly, who could blame her?

Mary Margaret only hummed and nodded, and for a long time, neither of them said a word.

After a few minutes, her friend broke the silence: "Don't you miss it? Our old life?"

"What do you mean?" Emma glanced at her.

"When we went to college and this craziness hadn't started yet," Mary Margaret replied, and Emma raised one of her eyebrows.

"I don't miss it. If there's anything I miss, it's...him. But nothing else."

"Maybe you should take the ring off. It always reminds you of him. It's been over seven months. I know you don't want to hear this, but sooner or later, you're going to have to move on. There's life after Neal."

If it wasn't Mary Margaret sitting in front of her, telling her that, she probably would have slapped her or, at the very least, made her leave. But Mary Margaret was different. Emma knew she wanted the best for her, and she had much better insight into her situation than she did.

"I can't," Emma shook her head. "It would be like...I don't know. It would be like I was denying him or something."

"No," Mary Margaret objected vehemently. "It wouldn't be like that. To be honest, I didn't agree with the others when they gave you that damn ring. It was like twisting the knife that was already in your heart. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't have told you he was going to ask you to marry him. Sooner or later, you may have realized it yourself, though. Would it have been easier for you if there had been no ring?"

"Maybe," she breathed, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

Her gaze soon drifted to her ring. Maybe she really did need to take it off. "I don't know yet… Maybe in time," she replied.

"My advice is not to hesitate too long. It will be easier after that, believe me."

"I hope so," she smiled finally.

She was startled awake by the ringing of her phone. The rays of the full moon broke on the dry branches of the trees in the woods behind the house, and the silvery light painted indelible patterns on her bedspread with the shadows.

She forgot to close the blinds.

Her phone buzzed again and, still a little sleepy, she rolled onto her side in the huge double bed. She pulled aside the dark green canopy and reached for the vibrating device on the nightstand.

She glanced at the caller ID.

Of course.

Only David would call her in the middle of the night.

"What happened? Are you okay?" she immediately straightened up in her bed, holding her breath, waiting for her brother's answer.

"You're about to find out. We'll be home in five minutes. In the meantime, open the door and get the couch ready for Ruby." His voice sounded calm and Emma concluded that they couldn't be in too much trouble.

She ended the call, jumped up from the bed, and yanked open the door to her room. She ran down the hall and hopped down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. When she reached the front door, she took off the padlock, pulled out the deadbolt, unlocked the door, and opened it wide.

She ran back to the couch and tossed all the unnecessary things off of it. A couple of remotes, two blankets, and a few pillows landed on the cherry wood floor. Just as she stood up, she could hear the hurried footsteps of David and the others.

"Let me go! I can walk on my own two feet!" Ruby's voice sounded rather irritated, but her statement was immediately followed by a loud thud.

"I can see that," David hissed angrily, with a slight note of mockery in his tone. "Jones, if you will! She already tried to claw my eyes out…"

David marched into the apartment like an angry boar. He dropped his gun on the coffee table and sank into one of the black leather chairs. Leo and Robin nervously scurried into the living room, followed by Killian with Ruby in his arms.

Ruby stubbornly struggled against Killian, trying to break free of his grip, but he held her tight. It didn't matter that she could easily stand up to two guys, she couldn't outmaneuver Killian.

Killian wisely turned his face away from Ruby's tiny but sharp fingernails and carefully laid her on the couch.

"If any of you dare touch me again, I'll castrate you!" she growled, and then hissed, a grimace on her face immediately following.

"What happened?" Emma crouched down beside the brunette in horror.

"Can we go to your room?" Ruby pleaded desperately.

"No. She's been shot," David replied before getting up from the chair and drifting into the bathroom.

"What? Have you lost your minds? Why didn't you take her to a hospital?" Emma snapped, glaring at Leo and Robin.

"It was a miracle that we were even able to carry her here," Robin shrugged.

"I'll live," Ruby growled, but tears were running quietly down her face from the pain and exertion.

"Only if I take the bullet out and tend to the wound," David nodded.

"Ruby, we have to do this," Emma sat down next to her on the couch and took her hand.

She knew full well that she didn't like to be touched when she was injured. Ruby blinked up at David in alarm, disgust written all over her beautiful face. "Only you, David. No one else…" she moaned in a fading voice.

"All right, so be it. Let me over there, Emma. Take a look at Killian's arm until then."

She got up from the couch, grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and a bandage from the pile of medical supplies scattered on the table, and walked purposefully toward Killian, who stood silently by the banister.

"There's really no need," he shook his head with a forced smile when she reached him. "It's just a scratch, love, really not that serious."

"Not you, too."

"I don't—"

"Show me. I really don't have the patience for that right now, Killian," she interrupted him.

She didn't know what to make of the look he gave her. His impossibly blue eyes reflected annoyance, fear, and confusion all at once, but he soon relented and reluctantly peeled off his black leather jacket. The left sleeve of his shirt was completely soaked with blood.

He rolled up his sleeve. At first, she didn't see a wound under his many tattoos, it was hard for her to notice any damage done to his skin other than the scar that was already there. But as she scanned his arm she soon found a cut that seemed far too tiny for the amount of blood that adorned his clothing and skin. There was barely any blood flowing from it now.

"What the…" her eyes widened as she ran her finger over the wound, but Killian didn't even flinch. Right before her eyes, the cut disappeared under the ship wheel — or helm, as he called it — which wrapped around his bicep. "Killian," she stared at him, dumbfounded.

A mere Mage wouldn't be able to do that, even if he had as much power as Killian.

"There were Elves among my ancestors," he shrugged, his face becoming an imperturbable, grim mask. His gaze seemed petrified, expressionless.

That explained some strange things about Killian, Emma thought. He had an abnormally high physical resilience and was almost as fast as a Vampire or Werewolf. That couldn't be possible through mere magic.

"Oh," she couldn't force a more meaningful answer out of herself. "Why didn't you say that before?"

"I didn't think it was important," he shrugged.

"Sorry, but you don't look like an Elf," Leo shook his head with a grin.

Emma only now noticed that the other Hunters had been standing behind her the whole time.

"That's because I'm not one. Some of my ancestors were. I'm just a freak," his voice sounded strangely bitter and he turned his head away.

Instinctively, she took two steps away. Killian's icy magic flared up without warning, along with his rage.

"Hey, calm down, dude. I didn't mean it like that," Leo raised his hands.

"What's going on?" Mary Margaret reached the bottom of the stairs, still in her pajamas.

"Nothing new. Just a bit of bickering, the usual," Robin grinned.

Only now did Mary Margaret notice David at the other end of the room. A broad smile was on her face as she walked over to where he was still crouched by the couch, finishing patching Ruby up.

Emma turned away as they threw themselves into each other's embrace, kissing as if they hadn't seen each other in days. She glanced back at Killian who was watching her face with a coy expression. His gaze positively shone with panic, almost desperate.

"I… I apologize. I think I'd better go," he murmured, lowering his gaze.

He rolled down his sleeve and picked up his jacket, then stormed out of the apartment without further explanation. Emma stared after him, uncomprehending. She had always known he was kind of a weirdo. But this was unusual, even for Killian.

"What the hell was that?" she turned to Robin, confused.

"He's a little cuckoo in the head. You'd better not get any more friendly with him than you already have," Robin shook his head. "Seriously. He can be pretty scary sometimes. He's pretty weird."

She didn't answer, just stared after Killian thoughtfully. She agreed with Robin that there was something up with him. But she immediately ruled out the possibility that he was suffering from some sort of mental illness.

"You knew about this?" Leo turned to Robin.

"That he was part Elf? No, I would never have guessed that. But now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense. He's done things he wouldn't have been able to do otherwise," Robin replied and goosebumps appeared on Emma's arm.

Maybe Robin was right. She shouldn't get close to him.

[joonsrack]

Masterpiece | KTH x KNJ

+PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: Oneshot, crack, angst, smidge of smut, College AU, stranger to lover

+WORD COUNT: ~13k

+RATING: 18+

+WARNING: Taehyung has face blindness, NSFW, (very) foul language, overuse of the word penis and it’s synonyms, pinning, misunderstandings, Namjoon is like real’ dumb, a little hanky panky but nothing scandalous.

+SUMMARY: 

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his [REDACTED], but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

(OR the one where Taehyung has face blindness but that won't stop him from finding love. )

+A/N: Well, it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted anything, and almost as much time since i last wrote anything (except for the occasional guilt writing lmao). So this is me coming back with a vengeance (and the dumbest thing i’ve ever written). This is all thanks to (or to be blamed on) @minloop who put up with my non-stop messaging, gave me some plot ideas, and actually inspired me to finish this in three days. Thank you to my baby @emojihobi​ for the emotional support and the beta reading 💖

+Disclaimer: I got all my info on face blindness from google searches, so please forgive any inaccuracy.

Face blindness has definitely made Taehyung’s life difficult. 

There’s the obvious problem of not being able to recognize your parents. Remember this childhood trauma of holding a random stranger’s hands in the mall, thinking it’s your mother or father? Taehyung had to live through that many, many times; except he wouldn’t realize until said stranger would shake his hand off, or until his parents would swoop in to get him. The fact that he’s never been kidnapped is down to pure luck, really.

Making friends, you guessed it, has also been a challenge. It’s difficult explaining to kids why you ignored them when you saw each other in the hallway. Kids don’t always understand “I didn’t recognize you” as an explanation, especially if you’ve been in the same class since pre-k.

But this? This is a new and unforeseen crisis.

+

 His dorm room is very quiet, which is not unusual since he has a solo room. But he’s pretty sure he went to sleep with a plus one, and said plus one is nowhere to be seen. 

Now, he isn’t a stranger to one-night stands sneaking out after he falls asleep. He likes to take night conquests to his dorm room for this exact reason; He can go right to sleep, while they take themselves out. Easy breezy no string attached-y. That’s usually the way he wants it to be. 

But this time is different. Last night was different. Last night, Taehyung had the best night of his life, hands down. Best bangs of his existence. Bangs plural because they went more than once. How that’s even possible when his teenage years are long gone and days with multiple orgasms are less and less common, he has no idea.

He’s probably ruined for anyone else. Nothing could ever compare to the night he just spent getting his back blown out. 

Now, Taehyung is a sculptor. A very gifted one at that (if his teachers’ praises are anything to go by). Taehyung knows body proportions, knows perfect rations, all that stuff. He knows it on marble bodies, in sketches, in painting. Not on actual human beings.

Until last night.

Last night, he witnessed the body of a god. He scratched at perfect skin, held on to beautifully defined and strong arms, rode perfect thighs. Last night, he shed a tear at the view of some perfect knees. Last night, he realized that art truly imitates nature. 

And that’s not all.

Taehyung can admit he owns a nice dick; it’s decently shaped, the color is nice, and the size is slightly over average. 

But what he witnessed the night before?

The Narcissus of dicks; the most beautiful dick on the planet. The most beautiful dick in history . Probably even prettier than Narcissus’ face himself. (But Taehyung doesn’t know what Narcissus' face looks like, so he’s only assuming.) 

From the perfect red color of its beautifully shaped head to the gracefully intertwined veins leading to a sturdy looking hilt, peppered with well-kept pubic hair, ending in an exquisitely wrinkled ballsack. The girth was over average; big enough to make size queens (such as Taehyung) salivate, but not big enough to scare away enthusiasts. And the length? The dude is lucky he’s a grower and not a show-er, or he would never know peace. Mainly because the likes of Taehyung or Park Jimin would never let him be.

But where is that most perfect penis right now? 

Attached to its perfectly shaped and mysterious owner, probably miles away.

Very problematic, indeed.

+

“So what you’re saying is, you fell asleep, and when you woke up he was gone? Isn’t that how it’s usually supposed to go?” Yoongi sounds disgruntled on the other end of the face call, face half mushed in his pillow, hair disheveled and eyes squinty. It’s not yet 1 pm after all, which is still considered morning for people like Min Yoongi.

“Noooo, not this time.” Taehyung whines,” This time he was supposed to stick around and ask me to marry him in the morning. Isn’t that obvious? We went at it four times for fuck sake, doesn’t that mean anything anymore?”

Jimin chokes on his matcha oatmeal milk latte, eyes going wide. “Four times?! Now that is a monster stamina. He basically squeezed your balls dry.” There’s a pause, then he says to someone off-camera, “It’s rude to stare, ma’am.”

“Stop ruining my morning with your screaming,” Yoongi grunts out, rubbing his eyes. “So what do you want us to do about this?”

Taehyung fumbles around his desk for a moment, looking through his piles of sketches until he finds it, his only clue.

“Do you two know this man?” He asks, pulling out a sketch he did quickly off his memory of the mystery man’s body. He pulls out a second one, this one is a close-up of his perfect penis. He might have gone off tangent with the shading, but he couldn't stop himself, that dick deserves all the shading.

“Jesus fuck.” Yoongi signs.

“Baby, I’m sure you’re aware that if I knew anyone with a body and a dick like that, you would never have been able to put your dirty paws on him.”

Taehyung turns hopeful eyes to Yoongi after glaring at Jimin for a good 10 seconds, but Yoongi only shakes his head no.

“I don’t have a habit of making my friends strip around me, sadly. I wouldn’t be able to tell even if I knew him.”

“You two are useless” Taehyung signs, his body deflating. Yoongi takes offense and hangs up. Or maybe he was going to hang up either way.

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his penis, but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung. 

“I was busy sucking his dick, asshole.” He spits, but Jimin only snorts in answer.

“Good luck finding the owner of Mystery Penis.” He quips back, before hanging up as well.

+

All hope is lost. Never in his life has he despised his face blindness as much as he does right now. Of course, it’s never been easy dealing with it throughout his life. He’s lucky he has two solid friends he can count on. Although Jimin regularly dyes and changes his hairstyle without warning to mess with him. And Yoongi basically has two hours of availability per week, usually arranged around his sleeping schedule. 

But he knows they care for him, and he cares for them. 

He drags his feet to class. He uses ‘class’ lightly; being a third-year means most of his courses are spent in the workshop, working on his graduate exhibition. 

He’s got his trusty overalls on, covered in clay stains. He’s been working with clay for the last few weeks, using the medium for two of his exhibition pieces. 

He greets his teacher at the front desk with a nod, before making his way to his desk. Today’s playlist consists of oldies, and he makes it to his desk just as Lionel Richie’s voice fills the room. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

Hello is a classic of sculpting classes. No matter the teacher or the Instructor, they all love to play that song on repeat, and he usually doesn’t pay it any mind. But right now, isn’t there a more perfect song to taunt him?

Lionel Richie asks if it’s him he’s looking for, as he’s pulling his tool out of his bag. He unwraps the plastic wrap from around the latest project he’s been working on, already planning his next move. 

He’s pretty sure the sculpting world is all over that song only because of the music video.

It’s obvious that the whole ‘blind girl sculpting’ thing– 

Oh.

Oh dear god. The music video. 

The music video.

Taehyung has an idea.

His hands move before he can fully realize the plan in his head, rewrapping his project, and getting some new clay from the front of the class.

His teacher looks him up and down in all his frantic and excited glory.

 “A sudden stroke of inspiration?” He questions, sounding curious.

“Something like that.” Taehyung smiles, trying to act inconspicuous. His teacher won’t let him take the clay if it’s not for his graduate exhibition.

He makes it back to his station without any more inquiry and starts to work right away.

Jimin was right, he does know every nook and cranny of that penis. He spent hours getting acquainted with it, and he has an excellent memory (Except for faces, obviously).

All the other students are too busy working on their final projects to notice the massive penis under construction a few feet from them. If anyone asks, Taehyung will proudly answer that it’s a life-sized depiction. But no one is asking, so he simply works on bringing the piece to life. The students in his class rarely talk to him, since he hasn’t gone out of his way to develop any type of relationship with them. It’s easier like that.

Once he’s done, many hours later, he’s alone in the workshop with the sun setting outside.

He ogles proudly at his masterpiece, the erect penis standing tall on his station, truly a creature of beauty. It’s a perfect replica, down to the ballsack wrinkles; down to the cute mole at the hilt. Of course, it’s clay-colored, and it probably won't change since Taehyung hates painting his creations, but he’s absolutely certain that everything else is exactly like the original.

The oven has been preheating for a while, so it’s hot and ready to bake some penis. The only thing left is to leave it to cure for a while. Any ol’ regular penis would have taken less than an hour to cure, but we’re talking about a monster cock here. 

He pops it into the oven, sets a timer, just in time for a knock at the door to pull him out of his penis-induced craze.

“Yo, Tae,” Yoongi’s voice resonates from the door frame.

Taehyung grabs a rag from his station to clean his hand with before making his way to his friend. There’s someone with him, and Yoongi signals at his friend with a lazy wave of his hand. 

“Remember Namjoon?” He asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. Jimin and Yoongi have taken to the habit of identifying the people they’re with, so Taehyung doesn't have to embarrass himself trying to figure it out on his own. That way, they don’t have to explain his condition to every single person that isn’t in his immediate friend circle. 

(Is it even a circle if it’s two people?) 

He sends a nod in Namjoon’s way and gets a wave back, and that’s as far as their exchange goes, as usual. Except today, his whole body language reads nervous and tense. But that’s none of Taehyung’s business.

“We’re going to see some juniors perform in a pub, you want to come with?” Yoongi asks him, and Taehyung knows he means well, but he also knows that Yoongi knows he doesn’t like crowded spaces. 

He and Jimin have tried to get him to go out more, but the only time Taehyung steps foot inside any type of alcohol selling establishment is when he wants to get laid. And there’s only one place he goes to then; that crappy little Bar near campus that’s only frequented by broke students who also want to get laid. 

He doesn’t like anywhere that’s dark where there’s enough people to make him lose sight of his friends. Something about losing his parents at the mall one too many times.

“That sounds nice, but I have to finish this piece I’m working on.” He answers, trying to sound as regretful as he can. It doesn’t really work, judging by Yoongi’s unconvinced humming. 

“Alright, careful when you go back home.” Yoongi finally answers, patting him on the shoulder. 

He starts walking away, but his friend, Namjoon, stays frozen on the spot, facing him. He’s looking at Taehyung in some kind of way, but face blindness makes it hard for him to read other’s expressions. He raises a single eyebrow in interrogation, and that seems to make Namjoon snap out of it. He turns on his heel without as much as a goodbye, which, rude .

“'Kay, bye.” He mutters after him.

But he can’t hold it against him. He knows that ‘Namjoon’ has been a long-time friend of Yoongi and that they’ve spent some time together by association. Taehyung doesn’t go out of his way to get to know new people, so there’s a high chance Namjoon might have tried to approach him with friendship in mind, only to end up frustrated by Taehyung’s lack of interest. Happens all the time. He can’t really help it, reading intentions is not in his toolbox.

He should probably tell Yoongi to share his ‘secret’ with Namjoon. He seems nice enough from what he heard, so he would probably be understanding. It should at least clear up the misunderstanding, and Taehyung might even gain a new friend, who knows?

He makes his way back to his station, works on his actual project while the oven takes care of making his penis nice and hard. 

+

The next morning, he wakes up to ten texts from Jimin, one from Yoongi, and multiple missed calls and voicemail from his workshop teacher.

 Asshole with pink hair:

9:40 am    ur crazy

9:40 am    CRAZY

9:40 am    This is hilarious

9:41 am    That’s why i love u

9:41 am    That is a beautiful dick

9:41 am    Like it was nice on paper, but the 3D version definitely makes me wonder about its  owner

10:26 am  All the student body is buzzing about the mystery penis

10:27 am  It’s on the front page of the school newspaper

10:27 am  omg you dumbass u didnt write your number

10:27 am  you didn't write your number anywhere brb dying of laughter

Hyungie:

11:32 am  You didnt write your infos dumb dumb

Taehyung bangs his head on his pillow, hoping for quick death. How could he forget to write down his infos? How is anyone supposed to contact him?

+

Namjoon has come to learn quickly that university isn’t always the most sanest place on the planet. Cramming, into a single building, that amount of genius with that amount of insanity is bound to create interesting events.

He’s stopped being surprised by most things, might be guilty of doing some of those surprising things from time to time. But today? Today is on a whole new level.

Somehow, his dick is plastered all over the school, in every hallway, on every door. Think Regina George distributing the burn book copy all over school but, multiplied by 50, that’s how many pictures of his dick are distributed around school right now. Not an actual picture of his actual dick, but an actual picture of an actual clay replica, with big bold yellow letters spelling out 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?', and nothing else.

It’s vaguely threatening.

He wishes he couldn’t tell that it’s his penis, then maybe he could laugh with the rest of the student body. But there’s no mistaking it. One look and he knew. The person who printed those flyers made sure to include all the possible angles, too. 

It’s 100% his dick. 

The slight curve is there, the mole is there, everything is there.

The intentions of the maker are unclear, but there’s one thing for sure: he knows exactly who’s behind it. He only knows one sculptor who has seen his penis, and that’s the current bane of his life, Kim Taehyung.

It’s not enough that Taehyung has been completely ignoring his existence before their night of passion together, he’s also been ignoring him after. 

And now this? Plastering his dick all over school? For absolutely no reason? Did he not like the night they spent together? Was this a great big ploy to make fun of him? Is this Taehyung’s way to reject him? To tell him to stay away from him? He knows he’s never been really subtle with his crush, but isn’t this going way too far? 

At least he had the very, very basic decency to forgo his name from the flyers, or Namjoon might have had to run away to the next town. 

Namjoon is not dumb, he knows his ancient Greece lore and what they thought about big dicks.

Taehyung didn’t write this so people would look at the dick, he’s obviously calling him a dick.  And for what, pinning on him for the last year? Can’t a man have a crush in peace?

Maybe he shouldn't have approached Taehyung that night. 

One thing is for sure, Taehyung is sending him a very clear message to stay away from him.

+

He spent a fortune printing all those hands out, and now he has to reprint them all? Taehyung knows very well he can’t afford another round of mass printing. Plus the librarian probably won’t ever let him walk into the library again. She had to come and refill the printer at least three times in the hour he was there. The environmental club was even called on scene by one of the students waiting for his turn at the printer. Talk about a snitch.

He can’t afford to reprint everything, and there’s no way he’ll go around school writing his number by hand.

He listens to the voicemails from his teacher then, uncovering a new hurdle.

The first one goes like this:

"Kim Taehyung I know it’s you, you left that thing on your desk."

Then the second:

"Kim Taehyung, you will take down these handouts right this instant before the Dean can see them, you hear me? He'll put you on probation and my head on a stick."

Taehyung muffles his groans into his pillow. Maybe it’s a good thing he forgot to include his number. He should have thought of that before.

He throws on some clothes, heeding his teacher’s warning. He better get to school quickly.

He texts Yoongi and Jimin to take down as many as they can if they want to see him live for another day. Yoongi doesn’t answer and Jimin only texts back asking if he can keep one for his room.

Some friend circle he’s got there.

He makes it onto campus in under half an hour, and gets to work, taking them down as quickly as he can.

He’s got only a few hallways left to do when someone taps him sharply on the shoulder. He spins around, dreading the moment he comes face to face with the Dean. Not that he could recognize the Dean.

“Are you the Dean?” He stammers in a small voice.

“What? No- you. I swear to god. Just tell me if you hate me that much.” Stranger says, before putting his long leg to good use, striding away from him. He throws a bunched-up flyer on the floor before disappearing down the hallway as quickly as he’s appeared.

Taehyung is stunned for a good minutes, utterly confused

The voice sounds similar, but other than that he has no idea who just spit those words at him. He doesn’t hate anyone, and he doesn't see why anyone would believe he has those kinds of ill feelings towards them.

+

Now that his plan has miserably failed, Taehyung falls into hopelessness once again. He lays in bed, holding his precious sculpture to himself. It’s the only thing he has left from his fateful encounter. Or he thought it was fate, but now he’s wondering if that was life making fun of him. 

Jimin is laying by his side, examining the sketch of the body with clear interest. It’s making Taehyung feel a little possessive. 

“Maybe you should try again in the school gym, no one gets a body like that from not going to the gym. You could say you’re looking for a model or something.”

Taehyung stares at his friend with all the admiration he can muster. 

“I would kiss you so hard right now.”

“We tried that once, remember?”

“Yes, and that’s why I won’t be doing it, but I would, just so you know.”

“Cool.” 

He snatches the sketch out of Jimin’s hands to get to work on the shading, trying to get his drawing as realistic looking as possible. Making a whole body out of clay would take too long, so Taehyung will have to settle for his sketch. 

Once he’s done, some 30 minutes have passed. He whirl around on his desk chair, waving the sketch around successfully, only to stop dead in his tracks. He finds Jimin with his precious sculpture halfway down his throat.

“Jimin!” He exclaims, fuming. “Get your dirty mouth off my penis!”

Jimin startles and chokes in surprise, but then bursts out laughing once the sculpture is safely out of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just really curious about the size. You never cease to amaze me.”

Taehyung snatches his precious phallus back, grabbing some tissues to wipe off Jimin's drool.

“If I can’t find him, this is going up my ass, so don’t touch it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin grimaces, rearranging himself on the bed. He grabs his phone to waste some time, probably ignoring his other responsibilities as the end of their final semester is quickly approaching. “You want to end up in the emergency room? Just use it to make a mold and replicate it with some silicon at least.” 

Taehyung raises both eyebrows in astonishment.

“Jimin, your genius never ceases to amaze me.”

+

He successfully drags Jimin with him to the campus gym. Normally the prospect of hot sweaty people grunting, in various states of undress would attract Jimin like a bee to honey, but since he’s already banged or broken up with half the people that go there, Taehyung has to keep a firm hold on his friend’s wrist.

“Why do I have to come with you again?” 

“It was your idea, so you’re taking responsibility.”

“I don’t like taking my responsibilities, they suck,” Jimin grumbles, but he stops trying to run away.

The moment they step into the gym, they’re assaulted by the musky smell of sweat and determination. There’s a high volume of people working out, probably wanting to channel their end-of-semester jitters into iron pumping. 

Taehyung spots the front desk, putting his business smile on while reaching into his folder. He hears Jimin greet someone, going off by himself, but Taehyung bears him no mind and heads straight for the Woman working the counter.

“Hi there,” he says, charm on, “ I was wondering if you could help me out,-”

“Yes you can put your flyers up, no you don’t have to pay for it, no we won’t take it down before the end of the semester, yes I do have some tape.” She says without missing a beat, not looking up at him.

“Damn, maybe I’m here because I want to sign up for a membership.” 

She finally looks up from her computer, assessing Taehyung from head to toe.

“No you don’t babe. Here’s the tape.” She says, handing him the tape while blowing a bubble with her pink gum. Multitasking at its finest.

Taehyung doesn’t feel like taking her on a debate, so he gets hold of the roll of tape and gets to work, spotting where other people left their flyers so he can put his right by them. 

He scans the gym once or twice with a quick look, trying to see if, by a stroke of luck, Mystery Man could be there. No one that is shirtless has the body he’s looking for, and he sadly doesn’t have x-ray vision to check the rest. No amount of wishing as a kid made him grow that ability.

He puts up the first flyer, this time containing all his info, and stares at it proudly. He's got a good feeling about this.

Jimin finds him again as he’s putting up his last flyer, sounding excited about something.

“I had no idea Namjoon worked out. He’s got nice arms hidden beneath those sweatshirts.”

“Namjoon? Yoongi’s friend?”

“Yeah! And he changed his hair color, it looks really good on him. A little lighter than he used to have.”

Taehyung nods along, not really pressed to know more. He’s got other fish to fry.

+

Namjoon slowly counts to 30 after seeing Taehyung leave the premises, before he basically sprints to the nearest wall, spotting the flyers Taehyung has put up.

There’s a sketch on it, a sketch of a body. A body that looks strangely like his. He frowns, before reading the caption.

“Sculpting student looking for body model. Body must look like this. Call XXX-XXX-XXXX. Food as compensation. ”

Namjoon cannot believe his eyes. Taehyung knows he’s got that exact body type, yet he didn’t ask for his help. If he needed any other confirmation that Taehyung hates him, there’s one right there.

Just what did he do to the man to make him hate him so much? 

Since he’s confronted him in the hallway, Taehyung still hasn’t reached out to him. It would be easy to do. He knows Taehyung has his number, they exchanged it when they first met, so nothing is stopping him. Unless he’s happy with the way things are.

+

Maybe Jimin is not as much of a genius as he thought. By the sixth person that walks in to be a body model, he realizes this is getting expensive in food bribes and studio fees. He has also stopped putting up the pretense of wanting to sketch anyone anymore. 

But this time, It’s one Jung Hoseok who walks in.

“Have we slept together before?” He asks right off the bat, tired of wasting his precious time. It’s his new modus operandi; invite them in, ask the burning question, then send them on their way with the promised food to avoid complaints. 

“I don’t believe so, but maybe we should fix that,” Hoseok answers, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Your flyers have a nude body on it, you made me come to a private studio, isn’t this a nude modeling thing?” Hoseok questions, but doesn’t stop undressing. He’s already reaching for his belt. 

Something tells Taehyung this man would be really sad to be told to put his clothes back on. The way he’s unapologetically getting naked tells Taehyung everything he needs to know. 

“So, why are you asking?” He inquires while posing, everything hanging loose and stuff. “Is that how you get laid? Asking hot dudes to model, then seducing them once they’re naked and vulnerable?”

Jung Hoseok doesn’t seem to be feeling very vulnerable right now, but Taehyung keeps that to himself.

“God no. Jesus that would be sleazy of me.”

“Not as sleazy as asking me if we’ve slept together 5 seconds into our first meeting.” Hoseok points out.

“ Touché. ” He admits, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Hoseok doesn’t press him for an answer, and they spend the next few minutes in silence, the only sound coming from Taehyung's pencil on the thick page of his sketchbook.

Jung Hoseok, standing confidently in front of him in all of his naked glory, has a certain aura around him. The way he holds himself, no hesitation to bare it all, head held high; it's like he never had to hide anything in his life. Like he never knew shame. To the point where it inspires Taehyung to utter the next words:

“I have face blindness.” He starts off, which gets his model’s attention. He keeps his eyes down on his paper to avoid eye contact, feeling rusty when it comes to revealing this part of himself. He continues quickly, “I had a one-night stand with this– perfect greek god. He had the perfect penis, too. Best sex of my life.” He's making good progress on his sketch, Hoseok’s body graceful and easy to put on paper. “I’m trying to find him, but I don’t know anything about him, and I can’t tell people’s faces apart." He chuckles deprecatingly, "The only clue I have is the way his body looks. So I put up this ad for body models hoping he would show up.”

Hoseok breaks his pose to slap his hands together, then pointing at him. “Oh my god, are you the one that plastered the whole school with the penis sculpture a few days ago? Was that your version of a ‘Wanted’ poster?”

Taehyung feels his cheeks warm up.

“Yeah, but I almost lost my diploma over that so let’s not mention it.”

Hoseok laughs with his whole body, clapping his hands together a few more times as if to express his excitement.

“That was the best thing to ever happen on this campus since 1993, thank you for that.”

His statement piques Taehyung's interest.

“What happened in 1993?” He asks, expecting anything but what comes outs of Hoseok's mouth next.

“My mom and dad conceived me in the bathroom of the literature wing.”

Taehyung chortles, surprising even himself with how loud it is.

“Now that’s a conception story worth telling your kids.”

“They didn't tell me; They got caught and got expelled the next day. They framed their expulsion letter, it’s still on display in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s voice is dripping with fondness, betraying his love for his family. “The thing is, I learned how to read at a very early age.”

Taehyung is possessed by another wave of uncontrollable laughter. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes, taking a second to compose himself.

“There, you’re looking a little better now. “

Taehyung looks up at the man, standing there in his birthday suit, going out of his way to cheer him up even though they’re perfect strangers.

(Maybe not so perfect since he’s seen him naked, but still.)

He chuckles again, going back to his sketching.

“Wait does this mean you don’t actually need models right now?”

“Well yeah," Taehyung answers, shrugging his shoulders, "But you looked like you would be really disappointed if I told you to stop undressing, so I just went along with it.”

Hoseok nods his agreement, going back into his original position.

“Good call. Now that we’re here you better get the shading of my calves right. They’re my pride and glory.”

“On it.”

+

Who would have thought that this whole ordeal would have somehow turned into Taehyung making a new friend.

He looks at the contact number in his phone staring back at him. It’s written 'Jung Hoseok' with a little sun emoji. He’s told him everything he needs to know to avoid misunderstandings, and Hoseok left with the promise to always greet him first when they see each other in the hallway. It’s sad that he only met the man in his last stretch before getting his degree, but as they say: better late than never.

He’s excited to get to know Hoseok, but he doesn’t know if he should text him first. He’s feeling a little socially rusty, having not approached anyone with the intention of being friends in a long, long time. Which is why he jumps with glee when he sees he’s got a text notification from his new friend. But then he reads the text, and the glee morphes into unadulterated excitement.

 Jung Hoseok 🌞:

4:56 pm    I think i know who your penis belongs to

4:56 pm    can you send me a picture? I lost the flyers i kept from that time

                                       4:59 pm    You sent a picture

 5:01 pm   Yeah it’s really similar 

5:01 pm    Kim Seokjin, XXX-XXX-XXXX, probably currently working the counter at the campus coffee shop. 

5:02 pm     He’s tall, broad shoulders, awesome dick

Taehyung doesn’t even take the time to text back his thanks; he wraps up his project in a disorderly manner, wiping his hands on his shirt with no care in the world. He throws his backpack on and basically sprint to the coffee shop he usually tends to avoid. The owner is totally an evil capitalist, ripping off students with his overpriced coffee.

He gets there in record time, gasping for air as his poor lungs try to keep up with enough exercise to last him a lifetime.

He’s covered in clay stains, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, clothes in dismay, lungs wheezing, so he should probably expect the next few events that unfold. 

He walks into the coffee shop still out of breath, asks if Kim Seokjin is there to the first employee he sees. This is one of those times where he’s happy he can’t read people’s expressions, because he has a feeling he’s being judged very much right now.

“He… just got off his shift.” The man at the counter answers hesitantly.

“Can you tell me where he went?” And what he was wearing?” Taehyung may be sounding a little desperate, but he doesn’t have the time to care.

“He was still in his uniform, so green, and he went that way.” He indicates with a vague wave of the hand.  

Taehyung starts running again, this time looking even more crazed as he scans his surroundings like a mad man, looking for someone tall with broad shoulders wearing green.

He spots him after running for a few minutes, thanking the heavens that the employee sent him in the right direction. He had every reason not to.

“Kim Seokjin!” He calls out, picking up his pace despite his lungs begging for a break. “Wait!”

He sees the man stop, take one look at him over his admittedly very large shoulders, then start sprinting away from him.

“No! Wait up!” He pushes himself harder than he ever has, his legs and lungs burning under the continuous strain, head feeling a little faint. “Please!” He calls out again in desperation. “Please look at my penis!”

This catches Seokjin’s attention, and he thankfully stops running, turning around as if to wait for him. Taehyung slows down to a jog, then to a complete stop, bending over gasping for air. Once his breathing is finally somewhat back to normal, he straightens up, only to come face to face with a bottle of pepper spray.

“W-wait!” He stutters, falling on his ass. “I swear I’m not a creep!”

“That’s exactly what a creep would say.” Seokjin answers, hovering over him threateningly, aiming the pepper spray directly at Taehyung’s face.

“I swear I just need you to look at my penis.”

This was the wrong thing to say apparently, because Seokjin gives the bottle a good shake as if to activate it. “That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you seem to think.”

“No! Wait!” He pleads again. “Not my penis.” He takes off his backpack, frantically digging through it until he finally pulls out his sculpture.  “ This penis.”

Seokjin doesn’t look totally convinced, but he finally lowers his weapon. “That’s a beautiful cock.” He admits after a moment of staring in silence. 

“Thank you. Is it yours?” 

"I don't remember owning that sculpture."

"Not the sculpture; the Penis."

Seokjin frowns, extending his hand, and Taehyung gingerly deposits his precious sculpture into his palm. The man finally puts away his pepper spray to free both his hands. He examines the penis under every angle, trying out the hold, measuring the testicles with his palm, staring at it long and hard.

Taehyung takes the opportunity to stand back up, keeping his distance this time.

“It does look very similar,” he concludes, hands going to his chin. “But this is not my penis. I don’t have a mole there.”

Taehyung deflates. He still asks, just in case. “So we haven’t slept together?”

Seokjin gives him back his sculpture with a snort. “You don’t look like anything I've ever slept with.” 

Taehyung realizes the state he’s in. He must look ridiculous right now.

“I’m from the sculpting department. I didn’t have the time to clean up. I don’t usually go around looking like I just rolled in the mud.”

“Explains a lot.” Seokjin nods, looking him up and down.

He dusts himself off as best as he can, but he can’t do much more cleaning up than that. He’ll probably have to go back home looking like that.

“So what’s your name?”

Taehyung feels dumb, he didn’t even have the decency to introduce himself before pulling out his penis. His social skills are frankly lacking.

“I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about all that, someone told me you could have the original version of this sculpture.”

“I’m flattered. It is pretty similar. Can I ask why you’re going around asking people to look at your– At this penis?” 

Taehyung sighs deeply, looking down at the penis in his hand. He did it once, he can do it again.

“Long story short I had an amazing one-night stand with the owner of this beautiful creature, but I have no idea who he is and the only clue I have is my perfect memory of his penis.”

“Sounds like a proper modern-day Cinderella story. But how come you don’t remember his face?” Seokjin questions, a hint of worry in his voice that would make sense in any other situation than Taehyung’s.

“I…. have face blindness, it’s this whole-”

“Ah, Yes, Prosopagnosia, I heard about that in class.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, so this is my only way of finding him.”

“So the Penis Flyers-”

“Yeah, that was also me. Forgot to write down my info, got caught by my teacher, that was a whole mess.” Taehyung admits, feeling discouraged.

“So now you’re basically going around town asking every man to try on the metaphorical glass shoes.”

“Basically.”

“Maybe don’t start off with ‘please look at my penis’ next time?” Seokjin recommends, which makes sense.

“I’ve been told that asking if we’ve slept together first thing is making me sound sleazy.”

“Yeah well, asking people to look at your penis isn’t better.”

“I’ll take good note of that.”

+

He drags his feet all the way back home.

He sees, pushed in the corner of his room, the material he got to make a mold, and wonders if now is the time to give up.

His exhibition is coming up, this whole thing made him late on his projects, and now he’s certain he’ll never reunite with Mystery Man. Maybe Mystery Man just doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he’s seen all his attempts and has simply steered clear, avoiding him all along. Maybe it’s time for Taehyung to make himself a silicon version and move on. He’s exhausted all his options, he’s out of time, and out of ideas.

He’s reading through the molding instruction, glad that this should be easy since he’s using a sculpture and not an actual living and breathing dick, when he realizes he hasn’t exhausted all his options. There’s still hope.

He jumps in the shower, picks out an outfit befitting of his destination, and goes off with hope in his heart.

+

The Bar isn't too busy, this being the middle of a school week, but there’s still some people going about, sharing drinks and being loud, in total denial of the oncoming train that is the end of a semester

Taehyung spots the barman, beeline for him. 

“Hey, do you know who usually works on Sundays?”

“That would be me.” Mr.Barman says, convincing Taehyung he finally has luck on his side.

Mr.Barman is on the tall side, with nice tattooed arms and wavy over-bleached hair tucked behind his ears. He’s making his forearm bulge seductively by polishing some beer glasses, and if Taehyung wasn’t on a mission to find his possible Mr.Perfect, he would be actively trying to get into his pants. 

“Do you, by any chance, recognize me?”

Mr.Barman doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re a regular. And you gave me a blowjob once. Why are you asking?”

Well, Taehyung might have many flaws but at least he’s consistent.

“I was wondering if you remembered seeing me a few weeks ago– I was with a dude, about this height, with this body,” he adds, pulling out the sketch. He looks a little crazed, once again. But it’s ok, he’s reaching for straws here. “He had dark hair, but that’s all I can tell you. See, I have face-”

“-Blindness, I know, you cry about it every time you get drunk.”

Hm. And Taehyung thought he was a character full of mystery.

“I do know who you’re talking about. He’s a regular too.”

The irritation Taehyung feels is only momentary, everything melting away with this new bit of information. Someone saw them, someone knows what his Mystery Man looks like. He didn't hallucinate the whole thing. 

“Do you know his name??” He asks, pleading with his eyes. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, desperation tangible.

“No. And he hasn’t been here since that night.” He says, crushing every hope and dream Taehyung mustered up in the last five seconds. He pauses his polishing, head tilting to the side. “But I do remember his face. I can try and draw him if you want.”

10 minutes later, Taehyung is looking at his disability in the face.

“Wow, you did it. You perfectly illustrated how people with face blindness see others.” Taehyung says, looking down at the drawing Jungkook (he asked for his name) quickly scribbled on a piece of napkin. It looks exactly like how he sees others.

Jungkook being good-natured, only laugh it off. “I can’t do much here, I’m working. But if you give me your number, I can try and do a better sketch once I get home. I’m from the painting department.”

“You would do that for me?” Taehyung asks, feeling deeply moved by Jungkook’s kindness. 

“Sure, it’s good practice for my portrait class anyways. You can take this as a thank you for the blow job.”

Taehyung nods to himself. 

“I do give amazing blowjobs.”

+

Jungkook, like any good art student, does not appreciate being rushed.

After a whole week of being told “it’s not ready yet”, Taehyung stops asking. 

He also wakes up one morning and realizes he only has a few days left before his exhibition.

Not only is he not done with all his pieces, he still hasn’t started studying for his finales which happen to be the week before his exhibition, meaning, the next day.

He pushes aside any thought of Mystery Man (except when he hugs the sculpture at night, heart yearning for the original), and jumps straight into his cramming strategy, which consists of hitting himself with the books until he’s absorbed the material. If he’s not studying, taking a finale, or sleeping, he’s huddled in the workshop with the other students of his department, functioning on coffee and eating various shades of sculpting material for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is not what Taehyung expected when he was told that artists live from their arts.

The day before his exhibition, he’s barely feeling human, he’s got dried clay in places clay should never find itself, he doesn’t know words anymore and he has basically forgotten his own name.

No matter how fast he works, he realizes he won’t be able to finish his last pieces in time. He’s wracking his brain for a solution, thinking long and hard about just what he could do, when it hits him. 

The solution is right underneath his nose; 

His penis. It was always his penis. 

He’s supposed to expose pieces that he finds impactful, and if there’s anything that had a big impact on his life in the last few weeks, it’s his sculpture.

He can’t tell his teacher, he’ll categorically refuse. Not after the stunt he pulled with the flyers. Plus he wouldn't understand the cultural reset it was for Taehyung, finding and crafting that beautiful creature.

So he sets to work in secret. It shouldn’t be too hard, he hasn’t printed his labels yet. Plus the students are in charge of installing their own corner, meaning he can wait until the very last moment before the opening to put his penis on display.

He needs to find a name for his sculpture, so he texts his friends for help, but as usual, they are unhelpful.

 Asshole with pink hair:

6:45 pm  ‘ Suck on that’

 Hyungie:

6:45 pm    why are you asking me idk

 Jung Hoseok 🌞 :

6:50 pm   “ Long lost lover”

 He’s glad to see that his new friend will fit right in once he introduces him to everyone. 

He isn’t satisfied with the answer he gets, so he sends more text.

 Kim Seokjin:

7:05 pm  “Is this your penis?”

7:06 pm   Or better yet, “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?”

7:06 pm   that way people will understand how current your art is

7:10 pm   Also I didn’t give you this number to chitchat

7:10 pm   after we find out his identity im cutting all ties with you

7:11 pm   Im just feeling invested right now

7:11 pm   that’s all

7:17 pm   Where’s your exhibition again?

Jeon Jungkook barman and artist:

9:56 pm  idk

9:56 pm  im almost done with the portrait btw

9:56 pm  you mind if I use it for my exhibition

9:56 pm  im really proud of it

 So not much more help on that side either.

+

The next day, Taehyung is busy setting up his corner and feeling emotional over his last exhibition.

He’s done with uni. He can go off into the world and live from his art. Or more like, he’ll first find a side job that’ll suck the life out of him, to pay for his art. Then he’ll spend a few years regretting every decision that led him to be an artist, but just as he’s about to give up, his sculptures will be noticed by a mysterious millionaire that’ll commission him thousands of dollars at first. He’ll refer him to his rich friend who will be all over his art and will throw their money at him.

Yeah, it’s a nice pipe dream.

He makes sure all the labels are in place, the lights are hitting his pieces in all the right way, and that no one notices him putting his penis in the middle of his space 30 seconds before they open the doors.

By the time his teacher notices, it’s already too late; the place flooded with friends, family, and even the occasional art critics that the university invited.

It’s not like his penis feels out of place in his setup. Most of his pieces are on the theme of the human body; studies of movement, skin texture, whatnot. If you look at it as a whole, you almost have a whole body. The only thing missing is a face, which is extremely fitting for Taehyung.

The wave of people coming is not preferable for Taehyung, since he doesn’t like crowded places. He’s never been a fan of their exhibition opening nights over the years. He keeps himself busy by trying his best to merge with the wall while people circle his pieces. His friends know he won’t be able to recognize them in the crowd, so they’ll come to him by themselves, he simply has to make himself visible.

“Hey babe,” Jimin says with mirth in his voice, “Is that greek?”

“Yeah” Taehyung answers, fixing his eyes on his most beloved and central piece. 

“I didn’t know you knew greek”

“I don’t, but Google does.”

The Penis is standing directly underneath his own spotlight, looking like a beacon of light, grabbing the envious stares of the people around it.

There’s a little white label by its base:

   Kim Taehyung

πέος, 2021

Red Clay  

(if you recognize this penis, please ask for the artist)

  “ What does it mean?”

“ Penis ”

Jimin hums, crossing his arm over his chest. “I guess I was not expecting anything less.”

Yoongi chooses that moment to appear, whistling his praise.

“So you did work this semester.” He jokes, bobbing his head with approval.

“Har, har.” Like he’s one to talk. He basically spent the last few months becoming one with his bed.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he expects it to be Hoseok or Seokjin telling him they’re here, but instead it’s from Jungkook, and it’s a picture.

A little gasp of surprise escapes him.

His hands shake as he opens up the text app, his heart thumping as the picture loads. He presses on it once it’s ready, taking up the full screen, and Taehyung can finally-... well, Taehyung can’t do anything with that. His case of face blindness is pretty severe, so even drawings are unrecognizable for him. But it’s something! A new clue! He can make a flyer out of this! He can-

“Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?”

Time stops.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in his head, mocking him, but also stealing the carpet right from underneath his feet.

Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?

A portrait of Namjoon

Namjoon

Namjoon, who stood in front of him silently, that day Yoongi invited him out, probably expecting some kind of reaction from Taehyung.

Namjoon who frequents the campus gym.

Namjoon, who’s tall and broad-shouldered.

Namjoon, who’s been around Taehyung for a while but was never told about his condition. 

Namjoon, who probably thinks Taheyung has been ignoring him all this time.

“Jesus fucking christ, My Mystery Man Is Kim Namjoon.”

Both his friends voice their confusion as Taehyung tries to rip his hair from his head.

“This penis belongs to Kim Namjoon, who doesn’t know I have face blindness, and who probably think I’ve been ignoring him all this fucking time.”

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says at the same time as Park Jimin, that prick, starts cackling uncontrollably. Taehyung always knew he was evil.

“This is- I’m so sorry but- This shouldn't be funny– But I can’t, it’s too funny.” He wheezes out in between laughter. “He was right there, probably confused as hell as to why you were showing his dick to everyone- I’m sorry this is so funny but also so, so sad. You never- oh my god.”

Under the attention of about half the gallery, he wipes the tears from his eyes, body convulsing with laughter.

“What the fuck are you waiting for.” He finally manages to say, taking a deep breath. “Hyung, didn’t you drag him here tonight?”

That seems to snap Yoongi out of his stupor.

“Fuck, yes he’s here, he’s... There!-” He says pointing somewhere, but then his voice dies down. “And now he’s leaving...”

Taehyung spots the man with a black cap currently walking out the exit with an angry stride. He reacts on instinct, running after his Not So Mysterious Man Anymore.

+

Kim Namjoon is having a very no good, very bad day. 

Not because of school, no. He aced all his finales, he doesn’t even need to get his grades back to know.

Not because of the weather either. No, it’s a beautiful spring day, and there’s a hint of cherry blossom in the air, wrapping the world in a romantic tint.

No, the reason he’s having a very no good very bad day, is because he can’t, for the love of God, get Kim Taehyung out of his head. 

It started with a very interesting dream, clearly drawing inspiration from the night they spent together. It woke him up at the crack of dawn, sweating up bullets and hard as a rock. Finding sleep afterward was nearly impossible, meaning his first precious day of vacation started way too fucking early.

Now music theory never sleeps, so he simply spent his morning trying to forget his dream, channeling all his energy on composing. 

But then Min Yoongi, long-time friend and co-compositor, had to go and ruin his fragile peace of mind by reminding him he had two tickets for the sculpting department exhibition, and Namjoon was obligated to show up. Meaning he would inevitably run into Kim Taehyung; Meaning he would agonize about him all day; Meaning , that he would be thinking about Kim Fucking Taehyung all day.

But it’s ok, because he was finally starting to come to terms with that too. Taehyung would probably ignore him again, and all he needed to do was circle the gallery once and get the fuck out.

But no.

Oh no.

Life had better plans.

Because right into the center of Taehyung's exhibition space, is his very own penis, standing proudly, mocking him.

He can recognize it from the flyers, so he knows instantly that it’s Taehyung’s work. 

He’s stunned by the audacity, wondering once again what he did to draw Taehyung’s ire upon himself. The flyers were not enough, no he had to go and put it on display as his final fuck you to Namjoon. Even wrote 'penis' in greek as a title, confirming Namjoon's theory that this is all a ploy to make fun of him.

Namjoon has had enough, he’s getting the fuck out of there. 

He spins on his heel at the speed of light, taking advantage of every inch of his long legs to walk out as fast as possible. He ignores the call of his name that follows after him, readjusting the cap on his head.

He’s fuming, feeling tears of frustration building up. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s been nothing but respectful of Taehyung. He’s been staying away from him too. 

He doesn’t deserve this.

He makes it a few blocks before his phone starts going off every 5 seconds with incoming texts, forcing him to finally look at it.

 Yoongi Hyung:

6:14 pm   Before anything, know that Taehyung suffers from severe face blindness.

6:14 pm   I know you know what that means you wikipedia rat

6:15 pm   I didn’t tell you cause it’s none of my business who he chooses to tell

6:15 pm   But the dumbass has been trying to find you for weeks using your dick because he had no other way to identify you

6:15 pm   Your pinning hasn't been exactly subtle either

6:16 pm    he ran after you when you left but I bet he’s pleading with the wrong person in the street right now

6:17 pm   Nice dick by the way

 He rereads the series of text to try and make sense of them. Only after the third read, does he finally understand.

Well, shit.

+

“Please Namjoon listen to me, you have to listen to me, I didn't mean to ignore you, I just didn't know it was you!-” Taehyung pleads, holding on to his sleeve.

“Can you please let go of me?!”

His voice sounds a little older than what Taehyung remembers, but he doesn’t have the time to think too much about that. Maybe he’s got a cold or something.

“-I can explain everything if you can just give me two minutes-”

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not this kind of person.”

Taehyung isn’t deterred, holding on to him desperately “-Please I swear just two- no, one minute, even one minute is enough-”

Someone clears their throat, tapping him softly on the shoulder. 

“Sorry sir, I believe my friend here is mistaking you for me.”

Now that’s a familiar voice. A voice he recognizes from many occasions. 

Taehyung lets go of his poor unsuspecting victim, taking a step back which is all it takes for them to run away from him.

He finally comes face to face with the source of all his past weeks' torment.

The height is there, the shoulders are there, the body proportions are there, the hair color is completely different, but Jimin did mention he changed it recently. He’s got the black cap on, the one that made Taehyung mistake a perfect stranger on the street for him.

It’s him. He found him. It’s his Mystery Man, his cinderella. He’s got him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He confirms, voice gentle.

“Kim Namjoon.” He repeats, trying the name out on his tongue. His body is filling up with butterflies, and he can’t feel his toes.

“And here I thought you just could never remember my name.”

“I can explain–” He rushes, eager to get rid of the misunderstanding.

“It’s ok, Yoongi told me.”

“And about your penis–”

“Yes, Yoongi told me about that too.” Namjoon cuts him off, the tip of his ears getting pink.

“I’m so sorry– I should have asked your name then. I mean– you made me come four times .”

Namjoon chuckles, catching one of Taehyung’s hands mid flail and holding it with both of his, making his heart jump.

“We’ve basically known each other for years, so maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. I don’t think I would have appreciated it then.”

“I guess that’s true. I’m still sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, I could have come up to you first. I mean, I’m the one who sneaked out in the morning. I had an 8 am class, by the way. I didn’t leave because I wanted to. But you have my number so… I assumed you would call me. ”

“I have your number...?” It's pretty vague, but it does ring a bell. He's got a blurry memory of time, around their first meeting, when Namjoon and he had exchanged their numbers for Yoongi related reasons. “That’s right, I do have your number. Fuck.”

“Well, I know now this wouldn’t have changed anything for you, since you simply didn't know it was me you were with.” Namjoon snorts, but not unkindly. More at the situation. 

But Taehyung still feels terrible.

“I’m so sorry.” He whines, feeling like burying his face in Namjoon’s chest. But they’re not there yet. “I tend to keep people at a distance to avoid misunderstandings.”

“It’s ok, I get it now. I guess I wish I knew before, but I get it now.”

“Good. I should have told you sooner. I was actually planning on doing it soon if that’s any consolation.”

“It is.” Namjoon murmurs, inching closer to him.

“Cool, cool cool.” Taehyung blurts out nervously.

This is it. This is his chance. Everything that has transpired in the last few weeks is leading up to this moment. 

"So," Namjoon starts when Taehyung has been silent for too long. "Yoongi said you were looking for me... Any particular reasons?"

"Well, yes." He answers but stops. All of this means nothing. It doesn't mean that Namjoon will accept to go out with him. He has no idea how Namjoon feels about him, and he sure as hell cannot tell by his facial expression. He's going in blind, no reason to believe that Namjoon wants to have to do anything with him. For all he knows, Namjoon is only here to settle the misunderstanding, and then be on his way. Maybe he's even mad about the penis flyers.

But then he also remembers that Namjoon is holding his hand right now. It's now or never.

He takes a deep breath for bravery and goes for it.

“Kim Namjoon, can I please take you out on a date?”

Namjoon doesn’t let him second guess himself, word leaving his mouth as fast as a blink.

“Absolutely.”

Apparently, they’ve gathered a crowd because there’s cheerful hooting and shouting erupting around them. But Taehyung pays them no mind as he goes in for a hug, Namjoon meeting him halfway.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon says, suddenly, taking a step back. “I still don’t know why you put my penis on display at the center of your exhibition.”

Taehyung chuckles, bringing Namjoon back in. 

“Simple, ‘cause it’s a masterpiece.”

+

 2 months later

There’s a knock at the door, which throws Taehyung off. He’s getting ready for his date with Namjoon– their actual first date– and is not expecting anyone. Jimin knows the code, so it can’t be him, unless–

“Hello sir, would you be open to receiving the words of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”

“Jimin, I swear to god, I can tell it’s you by your voice. And no one from church would dress like you do, slut.”

Moving in with Jimin is as much a blessing as it is a curse. A blessing because, well, they’re best friends. A curse because his best friend’s favorite hobby is to try and prank him. Taehyung almost misses the time where Jimin was treating his face blindness as a taboo. 

Almost.

The last two months have been a whirlwind of life-changing events for Taehyung. 

First, moving in with Jimin is a pretty big deal. Not only has Taehung been living alone for the last three years, living with someone is sometimes a challenge for him. Wondering why a stranger is standing in your kitchen at 3 am, brain slowed down by sleep and the weak lighting not helping, isn’t always a recipe for success. But he’s slowly getting used to it, and Jimin, as much as he can be a prick, is being patient with him.

The second big event is, well, his current job. Somehow his workshop teacher, even after everything, recommended him for a job at a sculpture academy. He now teaches different types of sculpting medium to children, four nights a week. Pretty sweet gig.

At first, he was going crazy out of his mind worrying about working with children, but four weeks in and he’s feeling confident. He sat down with the kids the first week to explain to them what face blindness is, and although the children were initially confused, they now enjoy switching names with each other for the duration of his classes, to mess with his head.

Jokes on them, Taehyung also called their parents during that first week. So far, none of the children have noticed that their parents have been making them wear certain accessories every time they leave for the academy. Checkmates.

And the last big event, of course, is Namjoon. 

In between moving, his new job, and Namjoon’s own busy schedule, they have yet to go on an actual full-blown date. But they’ve slowly been getting to know each other. They make time to go on quick coffee dates sometimes, and they text none-stop. Namjoon hasn’t seen his new place yet, but they’ve hung out at Namjoon’s plenty of time. 

His boyfriend (he gets giddy thinking about that word) also showed up at the academy a few times to walk him back home (The first time he kept it as a surprise, but he quickly realized Taehyung didn’t like surprises; especially when it means having a tall stranger approach him in the dark without saying anything. Now he texts beforehand.)

“Do you like this outfit? Or should I go with my floral button-up?” He asks Jimin, who’s lounging on his bed after his failed prank attempt. 

“Why are you so stressed? It’s not like it's the first time you two see each other.”

“Because the chances of me getting laid tonight are extremely high and I want to look good.”

“Oh?” Jimin perks up, knowing full well Taehyung and Namjoon have been taking their time to get to know each other. “Should I sleepover at Hobi’s tonight?”

Another new development from the last two months: Jimin and Hoseok’s instant attraction. They’ve been dancing around each other since the exhibition, but it looks like it’s finally getting ‘ sleeping-over-at-each-others-place ’ serious.

“...Good idea,” Taehyung answers, not because he wants the house to himself (though it’s a nice perk), but he likes giving a little push to love sometimes.

His friend circle can finally be called a circle now. Somehow, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon just naturally fit into his now actually social, social life. Namjoon was the easiest since he already knew Yoongi and Jimin. Hoseok got it easy by becoming Jimin’s more-than-friend, and Seokjin just showed up one day with a video of that time, outside the gallery, when Taehyung thought an older gentleman was Namjoon because of his black cap. 

He looks at the time, curses when he realizes he’s going to be late. He grabs his wallet and puts on his shoes in a rush, and makes it out the door accompanied by Jimin shouting “Don’t you dare fuck on the couch or you’re buying a new one!”

He makes it to the Bar with only a few minutes to spare, and as luck would have it, Jungkook is working. He’s come to recognize his tattooed arm and bleached locks instantly. 

Namjoon would have texted him if he was there, which means he’s cutting it close as well, so he sends a quick ‘here 💖’ text before sitting down at the Bar with a big smile.

“You make me want to puke,” Jungkook says, disgust dripping from his words. 

“Hey now don’t be jealous, I’m sure you’ll find yourself a monster cock as well one day.”

Somehow, he and Jungkook started texting on a semi-regular basis. It’s mostly Jungkook begging Taehyung to introduce him to Seokjin (apparently he’s been crushing on the man since he first saw him at the coffee shop), which Taehyung has to find excuses every time to avoid telling Jungkook the cold, harsh truth.

(“I don’t date men with bleached hair, it ruins my whole aesthetic.” Jin said after the first time Taehyung asked. Which aesthetic he’s talking about, Taehyung has no idea.)

But that also means that Jungkook has heard all about his very fascinating and blooming love story with Namjoon.

“Did you tell Seokjin I said hi?”

“Dude, just go and ask him out. You know where he works, you know where he studies, you even know his birthday, which is really creepy when you two have never talked by the way. Just, go ask him out, he won’t be able to resist you once he actually sees how attractive you are.” He pauses for a second, then adds for safety measure, “But if he reaches in his pocket, just run the other way.”

“What?” 

“Don’t ask, just trust me.” Taehyung has some unpleasant flashbacks of a bottle of pepper spray being waved in front of his face. He shakes his head to try and get rid of the memory.

“And how would you even know that I’m attractive, you don’t actually know what I look like.” Jungkook retorts.

“Shut up, just go and ask him.”

“Just go and ask him what?” A familiar voice asks from behind him, and Taehyung's smile is back full force. He rotates on his chair and jumps into Namjoon’s arms, hearing him groan under the strain of his weight. He can hear Jungkook fake gagging behind him, the actual child.

They share a quick kiss before they both sit down at the bar.

“You’re not seriously thinking about having your date here, are you?”

Taehyung snorts, tempted to mess with Jungkook, but Namjoon is the one to answer.

“No we just wanted to get the evening started with a nice drink, but we have a reservation to an actual fancy restaurant, paid graciously by Taehyung's actual serious adult job.”

“Is it a serious adult job if he had to stop a kid from eating his donut-shaped clay yesterday?”

“Shut up. If you keep being like that I’m going to order the most annoying thing on the menu.”

Jungkook scoffs and walks away, without actually taking their orders.

They both watch him do a big show of ignoring them, answering other customers without turning in their direction.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Namjoon whispers in his ear. “We can go waste time walking around aimlessly, hand in hand.”

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Taehyung mutters, but he actually loves it.

His dating experience before Namjoon amounts to an enormous zero, but it’s not because he’s one of those unattainable, i-don’t-believe-in-love types of people that live rent-free in Hollywood movies. He simply never thought it would be possible to get close to someone romantically with his condition. But since officially meeting Namjoon, he’s been researching, and turns out, he totally can. 

There are even people, artists like him, who've noticed that repeatedly drawing or painting their loved one has made them actually able to remember their face (not 100% of the time, but he’ll take what he can get.). So he’s been sketching, using pictures, trying out different angles. He’s planning on using clay at one point. He’s totally the girl from Lionel Richie’s music video. Which makes Namjoon Lionel Richie.

“Did you know that I was inspired by Lionel Richie’s music video to sculpt your penis?”

Namjoon chuckles under his breath, squeezing Taehyung’s hand just a little bit more. The hot summer air is making their palms sweaty, but they both don’t care. 

“Where is that thing, by the way? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen it.”

“I put it on my bedside table when I moved in and I haven't moved it since. I’m thinking about making it into a lamp. I have to keep it out of reach of Jimin and Hoseok, they both seem a little too interested.”

Namjoon grimaces. Or Taehyung is assuming that’s his grimacing face. 

“Please never let it fall into their hands.”

“I swear on my honor, I shall protect your penis.”

“Thank you, I feel better now. I still can’t believe they put it on the first page of ‘Sculpting Now’. Crazy how all of your friends and the sculpting world know what my dick looks like.

“It’s a masterpiece. If it was mine I would never keep it in my pants, I’d always want to show it off.”

“How are you not in prison right now?”

“I don’t have your dick in my pants, sadly. Did you know that Seokjin almost pepper-sprayed me the first time we met? In retrospect, having a stranger run after you, pleading for you to look at their dick is a good excuse to pull out your pepper spray.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“It was all in the name of love.”

Namjoon shakes his head, probably disappointed in him.

+

Namjoon is utterly enamored. Every time Taehyung recalls a story from when he ran around school trying to find him, he falls a little bit more in love. 

He was so nervous for their first romantic date that he couldn’t eat during the day, but Taehyung is making him feel at ease, as he usually does, so hunger is coming back with a vengeance.

“Should we go to the restaurant now?” He asks, pulling Taehyung along with him. "It's almost time."

“Let’s.” Taehyung agrees readily, “I’m ravenous.”

They quickly make their way to the restaurant, only to find its door closed. There’s a sign in the window reading “Closed for vermin infestation”.

“Oh.” Namjoon says, “Dammit. That’s not good.”

There’s this awkward silence, filled with growling sounds from both their bellies. It’s too late to make reservations anywhere nice, and anywhere else risks being too loud for a romantic Rendez-Vous. Namjoon is scrambling his brain for a solution when Taehyung’s shy voice interrupts.

“Hum, if you want to– Jimin told me he wouldn't be home tonight, so… You want to come over? We can pick up some ramen on the way.”

Taehyung’s face might be neutral, but the blush growing on his cheeks is anything but. Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight that he makes, burning up in embarrassment. Without the blushing, Namjoon would have believed he’s only inviting him for ramen, but the angry red of his cheeks is definitely betraying Taehyung’s intentions.

He nods his agreement, feeling anticipation replace hunger in the pit of his stomach.

+

 Having Namjoon in his space is a new experience. 

The apartment is still messy from their move, boxes lying around, but they’ve managed to make it quite homey. Everything that is necessary to their everyday life has been unboxed, only the odd objects being ignored by Jimin and him.

He puts on some soft music to set a nice mood, and Namjoon is humming along straight away, which is all the approval he needs to feel confident about his music selection. Music Theory graduate approved. 

 He gets to work on the ramen while he directs Namjoon on where to find a cheap bottle of wine and some wine glasses. He sets the table, trying to make it as nice as possible, but it’s really just a pot of bubbling ramen and two bowls with some chopsticks. 

They eat in comfortable silence, the music playing in the background mixing with the sound of their eating.

But then Namjoon dumps the content of his wine glass on his tan-colored pants, and it’s downhill from there.

“Damn it!” He curses, jumping to his feet. He grabs some napkins to try and pat some wine off, but it’s already been absorbed by his fancy suit pants. 

“Quick, take them off,” Taehyung says, not thinking too hard and only reacting to the situation at hand. “Let’s rinse them in the sink.” 

Namjoon complies, taking them off in record time, passing them on to Taehyung like it’s a relay race.

Taehyung deposits them straight in the sink, opening the tap and letting the water hopefully get rid of most of the stain. They both stand there for a minute, staring at the water filling up. 

But then it hits Taehyung that Namjoon’s thighs are currently bare and in his vicinity. He sneaks a quick peek to satisfy his horny brain, but he’s quick to snap his eyes back to the sink to avoid doing anything stupid.

Like, let’s say , dropping to his knees. 

He can feel himself blushing, his cheeks, ears, and neck feeling hot. He knew exactly what he was doing, inviting Namjoon for some ramen, but now that he can act on it, he’s suddenly feeling very shy. 

Plus, not being able to read facial expressions never really impaired his ability to get laid. He used to just– go to the bar, wait until someone would offer him to get out of there, and go for it. 

But this is not a bar, and Namjoon won’t ask him if he wants to get out of there. He has no idea how to tell if Namjoon wants to jump into bed with him. Or not. 

He takes matters into his own hands.

“So, as you know,” He starts, staring intently at the water flowing out of the tap, “this whole face blindness thing– I can’t really read your facial expressions. So in the future, it’ll be hard for me to figure out if you’re angry or happy, or sad, or… or horny. I’ve never done this whole– Romantic relationship thing, but I’m guessing we’re going to have to be really vocal with how we’re feeling, what we want, whatnot.”

He lets his statements hang in the air, staring at the stain that doesn’t seem to want to go away. He’s thinking maybe this will have to be removed professionally. 

But then, Namjoon chooses that moment to drop a soft kiss on his nape.

“Are you asking me, right now, if I want you?” 

Taehyung turns around, letting himself be cornered against the counter. Namjoon has his nicely defined biceps, somehow peeking through his suit vest, on each side of him. He absolutely loves it.

“Yes. I am.”

Namjoon kisses his neck once again, and Taehyung is this close to losing it. 

“I absolutely want you.” His boyfriend finally answers, landing a heavy kiss on his lips, sucking all the air out of Taehyung’s lungs.

 After turning Taehyung’s inside to mush via lips on lips crime, he returns to his assault on Taehyung’s neck, peppering the skin he can reach with sweet kisses, each one sending electricity straight to his groin. 

“Do you want me?” Namjoon questions softly into his ear, making Taehyung's eyes roll back so far he’s scared they’ll never come back. 

“Fuck yes.” He grinds out, voice turning to a whine when Namjoon, emboldened by Taehyung’s enthusiasm, rocks his pelvis into his in a languid motion.

He sees white then, bringing Namjoon’s mouth back to his, smashing their mouths together in a wet and messy kiss.

“How important are your pants?” He inquires in between kisses, enjoying the slow grinding Namjoon has going on. He’s still in his suit pants, but Namjoon only has the thin cotton of his boxer brief as a barrier. Taehyung can clearly feel his monster cock waking up from its slumber. 

“Not very important.” He finally answers, hands letting go of the counter to firmly grab at Taehyung’s ass. 

Taehyung can proudly say he’s got a fat ass, and Namjoon seems to appreciate it if the growl that escapes him is anything to go by.

He gets to work on the buttons of Namjoon’s dress shirt, Namjoon getting the message and taking his vest off by himself. Soon he’s standing there in only his boxer briefs and socks, while Taehyung is still fully dressed.

It’s kind of hot. 

They slow it down a little, Taehyung pushing Namjoon away so he can take a good look at him. 

The light of the kitchen falls almost gracefully over Namjoon’s defined chest, creating shadows that chisel out his muscles even more. It’s a sight to behold. 

He drags his hands down Namjoon's body, teasing a nipple as he goes with a flick of the thumb, mapping out his taut stomach with the tip of his finger, then coming back up to hold onto his strong shoulders.

“You know, I’m like, really good at massages. I feel like this is something you should know.”

Seems like this is all the time Namjoon will allow him away from him. He reels him back in with an arm around his waist, the other taking hold of one of Taehyung’s hands and bringing it to his mouth. He nips at his fingers, maintaining eye contact while he uses his tongue to soothe the sting.

How he’s even real is beyond Taehyung.

“Do you need help undressing?” Namjoon teases, reaching for his belt.

“Let me close the tap and we can move this to my room.” 

Namjoon doesn’t give him a response, only cages him once again against the counter, plastering the full length of his warm body to his. He reaches behind Taehyung and moments later, the soft ambiance music is the only thing they can hear again. 

Taehyung leads him to his bedroom, taking off his vest as they go. Somehow Namjoon already got his belt buckle, so he unceremoniously drops his pants to the floor, then jumps on his bed.

“Welcome to my room. That’s my desk, that’s my bedside table, that’s a replica of your penis, but I heard the original is planning on making an appearance tonight. This is my bed. Hope you enjoyed the tour.” He finally gets to the final button, looking up eagerly as he sends his shirt off to the side, wondering what’s taking Namjoon so long to get on the goddamn bed.

He finds his lover completely captivated by his penis duplicate.

“You’ve got the same one in your pants, you know. Get you your ass over here.” 

“Sorry I was just thinking… it’s crazy how similar you made it only from your memory.”

“Excuse me?” Taehyung objects, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re not just similar, they’re identical.” 

“Only one way to check, is there?” Namjoon taunts, before finally, finally getting rid of his briefs, releasing the Kraken. 

Except he also grabs hold of the sculpture, bringing it close so he can do a side-by-side comparison. 

“You’re right, it is identical. How did you even manage that?” He says, awe in his voice. “Have you ever used it on yours–” 

Namjoon loses his train of thought as he takes in the sight of Taehyung, laying in bed completely naked, pumping himself at a leisurely pace and looking very unimpressed. 

“No, I haven’t. But if you don’t get into bed in the next 5 seconds I just might consider it.”

Namjoon doesn’t have to be told twice.

[wtf-yoongi]

Flawless.

pairing | taehyung x reader

summary | you’ve lost count of how many notes you’ve left in between tae’s textbooks, from the silliest to the most profound, loving ones. and yet, even after all these months, taehyung doesn’t seem to have noticed any of them

genre/warnings | university fluff bc y’all whipped by university student!tae am i right

words | 3,070

note | this concept was inspired by a plot line in romance is a bonus book (which you can and should stream on netflix). also: for some reason i didn’t know but found out while writing this that i would do anything for kim taehyung and that’s just a fact

You don’t know how that even started.

It sounds like the kind of thing people who lose bets would be forced to do. If you lose, you’ll have to write a silly letter confessing your love to a friend. It would be funny, a story worthy of being shared with friends in between bottles of beer and other tales from college years.

But it really isn’t like that. Definitely not as funny or entertaining – just you being bored one day and then too into it to stop it.

You don’t know what had gotten into you the first time you did it. You arrived a little early at the apartment Taehyung shared with Jimin. Tae was still taking a shower. Jimin let you in and apologized for having to leave you alone because he was working on a paper due only a couple of days later. You sat down in the small living room area. Looked around for a while. Picked a thinning stack of sticky notes from your backpack. Wrote something silly on one of them. Added a little #1 to it. Entered Taehyung’s room. Picked a book out of his shelves. Opened it on a random page. Sticked the yellow note there. Closed the book. Left it alone. That was it.

After that, it was like an addiction. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught someday – eventually, as you thought – and having a good laugh with your friends about it. You could actually picture it: Jimin and you cracking up in the kitchen after Taehyung shows up with a handful of notes you’ve written. You tell them you’ve been doing it for weeks and leaving them everywhere. Jimin jokes about Tae not even opening a textbook to pretend he’s studying. Tae eventually joins, giggling and shaking his head.

//

“Hey, what’s up?”

You blink quickly to focus your mind again, looking up to see Taehyung free his shoulder from the weight of his bag and place a bottle of water on the table you are now sharing. He looks relaxed despite the craziness of the end of the semester, smiling and waving at a known face two tables away before sitting down.

“You good?” He asks again and bumps his elbow against yours to coax an answer out of you. “You look too serious.”

“I was…” You start and look down at the scattered pieces of paper in front of you, trying to make any sense of them. You pile it all to at least appear a bit more put together – the papers and yourself. “I was in the library, but the tension was too much to handle, so I moved in here.”

“It’s noisy.”

Well, yes, it’s a common area filled with students doing anything but studying. You wish to feel at ease like these people. Are they done with the semester or what?

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit too noisy to study?”

“Yeah, but there’s a whole lot of people talking and I can’t tell them apart, so it doesn’t bother me,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly after a few beats of silence. You decide to add something else, something to not end it on a bad note. “It’s oddly calming.”

“Well, if you think so.” Taehyung raises his shoulders and flashes you a simple and toothless smile. 

You don’t know how that even started. Liking him like the way you do.

It sounds like the kind of thing you would hear from someone else. I think I’m in love with a friend, what should I do? It would be funny, giving them advice on this sort of thing, but it only happened in movies, right?

But it really isn’t like that. It’s real. And it’s not as funny or entertaining. It kind of hurts, actually, but you can’t stop feeling those feelings and it drives you crazy sometimes. 

More than often you had found yourself thinking about this before going to sleep at night – and sometimes losing sleep over it as well. It definitely wasn’t like a switch, but it sure felt like it. You gradually fell in love, but only realized it when Taehyung came running down the stairs at the Art Department to meet you. 

There was nothing special about him that day – it was just the same old Tae –, but it wasn’t the art that had changed. It was the artist’s eye. You knew the second he made eye contact that something was up, but didn’t immediately jump to any conclusions, no. Love was something that came to you much later. At first, you thought maybe he had his hair done differently or the sweater he was wearing just fitted him too perfectly, the color matching everything else flawlessly.

But you had never used the word flawless to describe Kim Taehyung up until then. That’s when you realized you were the one looking at him in a different way. And that’s also when you started to wonder if that would ever happen the other way around, too.

//

But, of course, that never happens. He never finds out. Maybe the books you were picking up were way too random or hiding the notes inside just made it too hard for him to find them, so you decided to stick a note to a cover for once. 

You could feel the adrenaline rush as you did it, almost as if you were committing a crime. What you wrote is far from incriminating, though. #19 this is a test to see if you’re truly that clueless about your own stuff. you tedious friend, you were supposed to find these. what’s the joke in me leaving them if you don’t?

After that audacious move, you were a little apprehensive for a few days. You couldn’t stop looking at your phone, waiting for it to light up with a new message. At any moment now, you thought to yourself – and it did come, the message, but it wasn’t what you were expecting. It was just a you up? I need help with an Impressionism piece and this is more your thing.

//

“This is your last one, right?” Taehyung asks after a few minutes. “Last test?”

You blow a strand of hair that has fallen in front of your eyes. “Yeah, this and a project due tomorrow, but I’m done with that already.”

“Oh, the one you were working on last week when I asked you to come over and you said you couldn’t?”

“Yup, exactly.”

When you disconnect your eyes from the words in front of you to look at him again, he’s calmly playing with the water bottle with a subtle smile on his lips.

“I wish you could’ve come that day.”

//

You had sticked a note on his only book on Impressionism just a few days before.

To be honest, you were disappointed. Over the months, you had found yourself wanting more and more for him to find the notes – and not just the ones that had jokes on them, but also the ones that ask about the weather, about how he’s feeling, apologizing for that day two years prior when you bought spicy snacks instead of the regular ones, praising his photography skills and everything else that was on your mind. 

Taehyung not noticing anything gave you a more whatever attitude to it, almost as if you knew for a fact that he would never ever find them. That’s when you started to write deeper ones that sounded a little bit too much like a confession. You were talking about your fear of the future, the pressure your parents put on you, the pain of being the second child after a perfect one, how you were scared of failing in life and all the stuff you were too much of a wimp to say out loud. So many you ended up losing count and they no longer had a tiny number written in the corner.

At this point, you were running out of books. Taehyung had a good collection on his desk and shelves, piled one on top of the other without any order – but not enough for the rate you were going at. You left a note every single time you were there and able to sneak into his bedroom and caught yourself finding reasons why you had to visit just to leave another one. It was the safest way to get something out of your chest. Tae wouldn’t see it and, honestly, if he ever did, it was also ok.

//

“Hey!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up? You’re the one who called.”

Taehyung laughs.

 “Actually, you never call. What is up?”

“How did the test go?”

“Did you really call just to ask how I did?”

“I wanted to know if your semester’s finally over… And if you’re free.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now.”

“I guess I am… I have some books to return, but that’s it.”

“Can you come over after that?”

“Sure. Do you need anything I can pick up on my way? I think I’m stopping at the convenience store for some much needed and deserved alcohol.”

He laughs again.

“You’re right, you deserve it. In that case, can you get those potato sticks I like?”

//

Only it wasn’t ok anymore if he saw it. Not after you wrote that one. 

A whole month had passed after that day at the Art Department. You thought you had had enough time to understand what was going on – what you felt. And even after that, it was still hard to comprehend how you could let yourself fall like that.

It wasn’t like Taehyung was paying any special attention to you. He really wasn’t. He treated you just like any other friend – maybe a closer one, yes, but not that much closer. It was hard to distinguish, though. He was friendly towards everyone, always looking for ways to help. 

You racked your brain. Had he ever offered to help you with something you didn’t think he would do for anyone else? Had he ever shown interest in any way? What the hell was it that made you feel this?

Maybe it was just him. Effortlessly. Just like that.

That day, instead of going with something that popped into your head right there and then, you had a plan for once. You had imagined something a little bit longer, organized the structure of it all inside your head – sentence after sentence –, but couldn’t bring yourself to write the right words even after your third try.

That was when you decided to settle for I think I’m in love with you, you idiot. You’re driving me insane. Stop that now.

//

“Your beloved potato,” you say to Taehyung, handing him the children’s snack as soon as he opens the door. “Can I get a thank you, you’re the best or what?”

“Thank you, you’re the best,” he repeats your words with a small smile on his lips. Inside, the butterflies want to start fluttering everywhere, but you beg them to keep quiet and still.

You smile back at him, soon entering the small living room and leaving your much lighter backpack on the floor. “Is Jimin home? I bought him some as well.”

“No, but you can leave it in the kitchen and I’ll…”

“I don’t trust you, traitor,” you interrupt, hand immediately raising to point a finger at him, eyes squeezed in suspicion as you pick the round package and start walking again. “I’ll take this to his room and hide it somewhere. Don’t you dare look for it!”

There’s a moment of silence after you move into Jimin’s slightly messy room, looking for a spot to hide the chips and soon picking up your phone from your back pocket to let him know exactly where to find them later. When you walk towards the living room again, Taehyung is seated on the sofa with his back to you, slowly moving his hand through his growing hair.

Nothing sounds out of place or any less than completely peaceful until he opens his mouth again. He waits for you – for you to be seated and comfortable and fully focused, phone forgotten inside of your back pocket.

“Why did you stop numbering them?”

You freeze.

“What?”

Your first reaction is almost immediate. Your whole body tenses, going into panic mode with the force and speed of an electric shock. Somehow, you can’t seem to disconnect your eyes from his serene ones – a complete opposite from yours. 

Your brain, on the other hand, is running a million miles per hour. It wants to know and it has so many questions. When did he find out? Did he read every single note? Did he notice you had left one inside almost every book – sometimes even two or three? Where were they now?

But, most of all, had he read that one?

“Why did you stop numbering them? The notes, I mean,” Taehyung calmly asks again. He’s so composed and gentle you start to wonder what he is thinking about you now and what conclusions he has jumped to from reading all of that. “I know the exact order you left them up to a point and then I’m lost. It kind of bothers me, you were telling a good story.”

He smiles again and an invisible hand clenches your heart.

“I just…” You struggle to find the words and, when they do come, your throat feels dry and tight and like it doesn’t want to make a sound at all. You can’t face him anymore. “I lost count one day.”

“Too bad,” he admits with the same tender tone. “I was really enjoying it, you know? Your story. There are sixty-four notes in total, so I’m guessing you’ve been doing this for a long time.”

So he has read all of them.

Your palms start to sweat and your whole body grows cold all of a sudden. You let out a small cough, but your words still come out a bit too raspy. “Kind of, yeah.”

“I’m really sorry to be this blunt, but I just got to know,” Taehyung’s voice loses its cool a little and you can see his whole body reflect that, agitated, while he turns to you. His hands reach out a little, but end up halfway, resting on the sofa. 

Then, his words come out like he has finally opened his brain’s tap. 

“I just have to know since when you’re feeling like this. Are you still feeling like this? You wrote me a note saying you’re in love with me and I don’t know when that happened. How could you not tell me that? God, I’m so selfish. You wrote a bunch of things about feeling like you’re not enough and being scared of the future and all I can focus on is this one thing.”

You swallow, but your mouth and throat don’t become any less tight. “It’s usually a one-time thing, I don’t always feel like that. We’re all worried about the future, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” You nod. He lets out a long and staggered breath and shifts his hands impatiently. He wants to move them closer, but doesn’t know if the timing is right. “You didn’t answer my first question, though.”

You freeze again.

“It was a…” You take one deep breath, your voice as small as it has ever been, but still somewhat audible. “It was a few months ago.”

“A few months?” He repeats, voice escalating in tone, and you simply nod once again. “You should have said something. You know you should have said something, right? I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t reject you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got scared.”

Wait. He said what?

“What did you just say?” You repeat the words screaming inside your head.

Taehyung laughs, his easy-going demeanor back again. “You should look at yourself right now, your face is priceless.”

You really have no words. If the circumstances were any sort of normal, this would be the time you would raise your hand to pinch or straight up hit Taehyung, striking wherever part of him was closest to you. But this isn’t anywhere close to normal, so you just let your jaw hang open, your brain struggling to process the information.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, I truly never told this to anyone,” Taehyung starts, smile still plastered on his silly and flawless face. “I had a crush on you a long time ago, I think it was when we first started talking. I got over that quickly, actually, because you seemed so dead focused on being the best student and showed no interest at all. I thought it was ok, you know? At least I had you as a friend, you were a nice person to have around and I wanted to keep your company.”

And I was fine about it. Really, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t your friend just because I wanted something more, I really love being your friend. And I was ok for a long time until I found a sticky note and then another and another and another. I couldn’t believe you left so many and I never noticed it, like, how stupid am I? I should get a prize for being this slow.”

And then there was that one note. The one you wrote about being in love with me. I swear, I… I didn’t know what to think and then it hit me like a thousand bricks and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was nervous around you again, I wanted to impress you so hard, I wanted to make you smile and happy. I honestly don’t even know how I’m still going at this without stopping, probably because I practiced. Yeah, I did.”

A few moments of silence pass before Taehyung is speaking again. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Your dropped jaw turns into some sort of awkward smile. “Did you really practice?”

“Really?” Tae asks with an overdramatic expression. “I just said all of that and you’re asking me if I really practiced?”

You shrug. “I thought that was cute.”

“My God,” he overreacts, throwing his whole upper body towards you on the sofa. His voice comes out muffled now, but as playful as ever. “This thing only started and somehow I already know I’m doomed.”

Read more ›› masterlist

[vanchlo]

Green Eyes

*Thanks so much for reading! c: There are now several parts you can read here:   2    3    4 

I’m so happy to share that I won a fiction writing award for this short story through my college’s art journal! c: 

Blurb Synopsis: You had been subbing for Mr. Styles for the last couple of months, but you’ve yet to meet him. The notes you leave for each other have sparked a friendship, leading you to want more, and you wonder if he does too.

Genre: Teacher Harry, lots of fluff, friendship, and maybe even some romance? ;) 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Green Eyes by Coldplay (click to listen)

*

His shelves were full of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Rumi, and Charles Bukowski. His desk was covered in scribbled Post-It notes, Bit-O-Honey wrappers, and empty mugs of tea. 

This is what you noticed the first few times you subbed in his classroom. 

These were the only details you knew about the man whose face you’ve never seen. As you gradually began to substitute for his high school English classes more and more, you learned about him more. This was due to his students, and his personal belongings. 

What he didn’t and didn’t like: all the way from no fringes on a notebook paper, no red pen ever because that was his grading color, no using the word ‘can’t’ in his class, and students can eat all the snacks they want as long as the trash goes in the bin where it belongs. 

The CDs in a stack on the shelf told you which ones he actually listened to because they were the ones that were on top and without dust. 

You learned that the pristine book on his desk was never the one he was reading. No, it was the weathered and used copy beside his mug with dog-eared pages and penciled notes. 

His drawers told you another story with their contents: boxes of teas ranging from peach to vanilla macaron, journals filled to the brim with words, adult coloring books with tv show themes, and books on Van Gogh and Monet hinting at his artsy background. His students slowly warmed up to you, and through them, so did he. 

At this point, you’d only been subbing for Mr. Styles the last five months, racking up around two and a half weeks worth of subbed days. He always left precise and concise lesson plans for you. The books were where he said they’d be. The webpages he mentioned were bookmarked on his desktop. The teacher copy of the textbook and current group book were on his desk. At the beginning, his desk looked like a professional organizer had gotten their hands on it. Slowly, as you came to sub more for him, it grew messier, albeit you kept it tidy during your appearances. As the first few months passed and you became one of the few subs in his room, you started to find notes. They weren’t just any notes. They were more than the straight forward sub notes for the day’s agenda. No, they weren’t that simple. You can still remember the first one you found on a Post-It note - it went like this: 

Y/N, peanut butter on your waffles or syrup? 

It took you by surprise, but nonetheless, you answered his call. Each time, you’d find a contrasting pen color and scrawl your answer underneath his. Then leaving it somewhere he would find it the next day. They were one-liners at the beginning, and always interesting. Walking to his classroom from your car on those mornings, you’d fill with excitement at the anticipation of finding the next one. Sometimes it took you the entire day to find where he had hidden them. 

In the closet. 

In a nook in a drawer. 

Under the chair. 

On the backside of one of his books. 

Hidden in plain sight amongst his current choice of notes and lists. 

They never failed to spark a smile on your lips, whether it was quirky, confused, astounded or humored. 

Guitar or piano?

FRIENDS or The Simpsons?

Vanilla or Chocolate?

Would you rather become a superhero or a wizard?

The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?

Slowly, the questions became more personal, and more than just ‘this or that.’ His questions became longer, and so did your answers.  

What was the moment that made you decide to become a teacher?

Is Donny a good student for you, or is he lying to me about that?

What color are your eyes?

What book/film do you believe had the largest impact on you while growing up?

What is the one meal you always order at a restaurant?

Do you have a family?

Should I splurge and buy a new desk chair?

What book should I buy for my classroom you think I need to have? Why?

Why don’t you have a classroom of your own?

When is your birthday?

Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?

They were never a chore for you, or tedious. No, they were fun and you felt as if you saw a little sliver of who he really was with each note. After a while, you started to write and leave your own notes for him to answer. At first, many of them were similar to ones he had left you, because you wanted to hear his responses, too. 

*

The newest one stares back at you, his half-cursive registering in your eyes.

What’s your favorite part about subbing in my classroom? Don’t say the students, that’s what everybody says. 

Giggling to yourself, you reach over to his Pink Floyd mug to pull out a green pen. You take a moment to think of your answer. This time you found the note peeking out from behind the smart whiteboard. The sounds of the end of a school day tickle at your ears as you scribble down your answer. Pressing it to an open square of wood on his desk, you turn back to the royal blue pad of Post-Its. Peeling one off, the green pen hovers over the paper, but you can’t get yourself to write the question you’ve been wanting to know all along. 

He didn’t have a Facebook, or an Instagram. 

The high school doesn’t have a wall of staff pictures like others you’ve subbed at do. 

It’s late winter, so yearbooks are still a ways off. 

For all you know, you could have seen him here before in the halls when you subbed in another classroom. 

Exhaling, you press the pen to the paper before you can convince yourself to stop. Unlike the many times before when your fears got the best of you. 

What do you look like?

With a proud but nervous smile you stick it to the desk, layering the first note on top. It sticks to your lips as you bend down to reach your hand into your bag. The glossy bag greets your hand, and you pull it out to set down beside the note. 

A small bag of Bit-O-Honeys. 

Looking up, your eyes scan the empty classroom. Few footsteps, voices, and lockers slamming trickle in from the halls. You suddenly realize that this is the same view he sees, these are the same sounds he hears, and the same place he sits in every day. Well, when he’s not away on personal days, sick days, on holiday, and at workshops, hence your appearances. The thought knits something together inside of you, making you feel just that bit more closer to him. Something that’s been slowly happening over time since you first stepped foot in his classroom. 

One of the first things that did this was the posters scattered across his walls. A poster from the 2013 remake of The Great Gatsby, The Beatles’ Abbey Road album cover, a cartoon of William Shakespeare, a unifying print of Keith Haring’s art, and several posters of quotes from famous books - To Kill A Mockingbird, the Kite Runner, Of Mice and Men, The Life of Pi, and even The Hunger Games. It delighted you watching him add some of them to the walls since your time here, and you’ve been itching to purchase him one as a gift. You’re unsure of what he would like though, and the fear of failure has held you back from doing so. 

A bleep! catches your attention. Casting your eyes to the dormant desktop screen, you wiggle the mouse. A red circle has appeared on the title of a tab opened to your professional email. Clicking over to it from a YouTube video he had you show the class, you find you have a new message. At the sight of who sent it, your heart skips a beat: harry.styles@isd . . . . . . . 

Hi. I reckon you’re still sitting at my desk this moment, now that’s a funny thought. I wanted to ask you a question while I remembered. I have to go out of town on Friday for a funeral. Believe me, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, but these things are a must. I apologize for it being short notice, but I thought I’d ask you if you would like to take it before I posted it to the sub database. Please let me know either way by tonight, so it has a few days to sit on the website to be claimed. Also, I wanted to say thanks for everything you do. My students really love you, and it makes me wonder what I’m missing. Enjoy your night! 

Sincerely,

Harry Styles

“Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you. - WW”

A smile warms your cheeks as you finish reading his words, and the familiar poem that ends every email of his. You quickly type up a response to him, agreeing to take the job on Friday, thanking him for thinking of you. A new email appears in your inbox shortly after from another colleague, which occupies you before you lose yourself in your thoughts again. 

Perhaps your favorite addition in his classroom is the Fender acoustic sitting on a stand in the corner. Of course, you’ve yet to see it move in the last five months. The stories his students have told you in a way have given it legs of its own in your mind. Much like the little notes you’ve been leaving for each other, something you dread ever ending. 

*

It was a Wednesday. You’re convinced that Mrs. Watson’s Pre-Calc class is surely the bane of your existence. You keep cursing yourself for taking sub assignments for math classes. Seeing that you’re terrible at the subject, you vowed you’d never take one of her assignments again, but you have to pay the bills somehow. You found your respite in the cozy staff lounge. Couches lined two of the walls, along with an arrangement of tables on the other side of the room. 

As you walk in, you see that one of the ancient history teachers has nodded off again on the plaid couch. Otherwise, the room is empty, and all to yourself. If that didn’t make you happy before, the assortment of food on the counter definitely does. 

Voices float in through the open door as the plastic lid to the cupcakes opens with a pop! 

“Ah, looks like ya got tha last chocolate one. I was savin’ that one fer me,” a voice comments from behind you. Turning, you find a tall man in his late 20’s walking towards you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you can have it,” you volunteer, holding the blue-iced cupcake out for his taking. 

His blush lips curl up with an amused smile. Dimples fall neatly into his cheeks covered with thick stubble. Its deep brown color matches that of the short quiffed curls atop his head. Misty green eyes stare back at you in the middle of his round, but sharp face. “‘m only joking. Go ahead and have it. I already had one earlier. They’re quite good actually, but I dunno ‘bout tha vanilla. Never really cared fer tha flavoir when it comes t’ cake and ice cream,” he comments, passing you to stop at the nearby sink. 

“Yeah, I like to forget vanilla exists half of the time,” you remark, peeling away the paper liner of the cupcake. 

Leaning against the counter, you watch as his ringed hand grabs a red coffee mug from the cabinet. “So do I. ‘s ratha boring, if I do say so meself.”

Nodding to yourself, a silence follows your words. The sweetness of the cupcake is shocking when you take a bite. It makes you wonder how you devoured these sugar bombs as a child. A few beeps and a hum from the microwave echo throughout the room as you check your phone. 

“Y’know, I haven’t seen ya here at tha school befo’. Are ya new dis year or a sub?” he asks, bringing your eyes back to his lean figure. He pulls a yellow square packet from his tight-fitting black slats, a blush button-down tucked into its waist. 

“I started subbing here this year,” you answer before taking another bite of the cupcake. Half of it consists of the sickeningly sweet frosting that makes your teeth ache. 

“Mmmm I see. How d’ya like it so far? Are ya a new teacher, ‘s that why yer subbin’?” 

“Yeah, I went back to school kinda late in the game after doing something else. I figure I’d sub for a little bit for some experience, because what’s another year of waiting by this time?” you comment, observing how he fiddles with his black tie while searching in the refrigerator. 

“Well, congratulations. ‘s a big step t’ go back t’ school fer sumthin’ ya love. ‘s a good profession, I reckon. I’ve been teaching fer 7 years, and here at dis school fer 5. Sumtimes schools even hire subs they’ve had when a position opens, so keep yer eyes open,” he tells you, turning to you with a smile, a yogurt in his hand. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, returning the smile. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Sure thing. I know it helped loads when I was a newbie. ‘ll see ya around, I gotta get back t’ class befo’ me students do first. Have a good one!” 

Walking towards you with the steaming cup of tea in his hands, he pats your arm with his other hand on the way out. Nodding at your ‘thank you’, a small ‘you’re welcome’ falls from his lips before the door closes behind him. Eating the last bite you can muster of the cupcake, you toss its remains in the bin. A thought worms its way into your mind as you sit down at the table. 

Wow, I wonder who that guy was? And is he married, because shit, he was handsome. 

*

The smell of orange essential oil greets you when you stepped foot into his classroom the next time. The state of his desk made you frown, and made you want to scratch the itch to clean it. You resisted it and didn’t, and that thought was taken away when his students began to find their desks. 

Another day of 7 classes came and went. 2 classes of Introduction to Creative Writing. 3 classes of American Literature. 2 classes of World Literature. Amusing YouTube videos broke up the monotony of your day, and those of his students. The lesson notes he left for you had become more concise as the months have passed, and as you learned from each other. The same couldn’t be said for the dish of Bit-O-Honeys on his desk that he’s kept stocked for your appearances. You’re just glad he’s put the bag you left for him to good use. All throughout your day you had been looking for his newest note, but this time it wasn’t in any of his usual spots. After correcting some quizzes from today, you finally found it in the bottom left-hand drawer of his mahogany desk. Stuck to a tall can of Coke, your favorite drink of choice. 

I’m sorry it’s warm, although I’m not sure how you like to drink it. I just find warm soda to be rather nasty. The answer to your question is I have green eyes, brown hair, I’m rather tall, and I like to dress up. Is that good enough for you? Now, what do you look like, love?

Your insides melt at the sight of his answer, but then you groan at the vagueness of it. Off the top of your head, you know there are at least 10 male teachers here at this school with brown hair, maybe more. Maybe even with green eyes, too, and you know that because you’ve seen them in the staff lounge or in the halls. The thought only grows worse when you lose count of  how many teachers there are here at this school. Let’s just say, there’s a lot. Yeah, that sure helps a whole lot. Annoyed, you pluck a pen from the green mug and answer his question with as little detail as possible. Two can play at this game, you think to yourself as you sigh. 

If you could have a jam session with any musician, dead or alive, who would it be?

Sticking the new note where its corner peeks out from under his tabletop calendar, your eyes return to the Coke. It’s undeniable, you feel a little less perturbed at him just at the sight of it. Only a little bit, that is. Sure, you’ve subbed for a countless number of teachers at this school, and more so in this school district. A few of them are even friends or relatives of yours, but you’d never connected with one before like you have with Harry. You just wish more than anything you could find out what he looks like and what he’s really like. Continuing to take his sub jobs doesn’t really help with that. It only drives you crazier wanting to know the other side of this fascinating human being. 

*

There he was, snoring on the couch again, tv remote in hand. The weather channel is playing, surprising you very little. Snickering, you yank open the door to the black refrigerator. After retrieving your striped black and blue lunchbox, you place the container of leftovers in the microwave. A laugh is heard over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Green Eyes from the other day. 

Tittering as the door closes behind him, he says, “No fail, John ‘s always passed out on dat couch, I swear.”

“I know, it’s every time I’m here. Maybe he should just retire already so he can take his naps at home. Then maybe we could watch something on the tv for once,” you comment, shaking your head. Unpacking your lunch box, you take out a clementine, vanilla yogurt, and silverware. 

“Nah, he loves it too much. I don’t see him leavin’ anytime soon,” he remarks, walking past you to search the shelves of the fridge. “What’re we having’ t’day? Couldn’t find any cupcakes dis time?”

“No, those ones were too sweet anyways. They gave me a stomachache,” you complain with a grimace. The beeeeep! of the microwave interrupts your thoughts. 

“Mmmm, I dunno, I thought they were pretty good.” Rubbing his tummy, he pulls a breathy laugh from your lips. 

Your steaming container of leftovers almost burns your hands, and you dread trying to eat it within the next 10 minutes. Setting up for a lesson in Mr. Harrison’s classroom was a pain, making you wonder why you take any sub jobs besides Harry’s anymore. 

“No free food fer us t’day,” he pouts beside you, closing the fridge door before venturing to the vending machine in the corner. Your eyes drift to his outfit choice today - a white button-down topped with a buttoned vest the shade of ochre, all tucked into brown slacks.

“That’s why you pack a lunch. I thought you’d know the drill by now, since you said you’ve been teaching for a while.”

“I do, but sumtimes I forget. Yer already ahead o’ me with dat part, love,” he who doesn’t have a name answers with a short laugh. Sliding a leather wallet from his pocket, you see him type in a number before you sit down at the table. “Who are ya subbin’ fer t’day then?”

“I’m on the west side in the Science wing for Harrison. Bloody Bio.”

“Ugh, I neva cared fer science. Where were ya a few weeks ago when I last saw ya?” he questions, sliding out a chair across from you. An assortment of vending machine food hits the table with a slap - peanut M&M’s, a nutrigrain bar, and a bag of Sun Chips. 

“Upstairs in Watson’s Maths class. Remind me to never sub for her again, because I can’t understand Pre-Calc for the life of me. I never could in high school so I don’t know why I thought I could know,” you chuckle. A warmth fills your cheeks at the sight of his lips spreading into an amused smile. 

“Yeah, I neva cared fer Maths meself eitha. Numbas neva made a bit o’ sense t’ me, words were always betta,” he explains. You nod along with his words, your mouth occupied with a bite of spaghetti and meatballs. “What subject would ya like t’ teach once tha year’s ova an’ ya go searchin’ fer a job o’ yer own?”

“Um, probably something in English since that’s my focus area. Dabbling in History has been fun, though. I enjoy learning about it myself, and I always have a better time subbing in either of those classes,” you reveal. 

“I see,” he replies, his head going up and down. The crinkling of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence between you before he takes a bite. Crumbs pepper his chin, but he wipes them away from his thin beard. “How often d’ya sub here then?”

“I’d say probably 3 days a week typically, but some weeks are 4. Otherwise, I sometimes sub for a friend or somebody I know over at the middle school.”

“Ah, so yer license is sumthin’ like 8 - 12, ‘s it?” he inquires, picking up the black mug you hadn’t noticed he had. 

“Yeah, I thought that would give me a good range for those grades. With my experience now, I think I’d like to stay at the high school level though,” you continue, twirling you fork around in the noodles covered in tomato sauce. Crossing your legs, the satiny fabric of your black dress pants moves with you. 

“We could always use anotha good teacher here. Ya neva know what’ll happen,” he smiles, standing to his feet with his snacks held in his large hand. Returning his smile, he adds his mug to that hand, patting your back once on his way out. “See ya next time, love. Keep yer head up, it’ll get betta.” 

“Thanks,” you automatically respond with. When you go to say his name, you’re lost for words, because you suddenly remember you’ve never gotten it. Now, he’s already too far away to ask for it. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you stab a meatball with your fork, wondering when the next time will be that you’ll see him again. Because, he sure is nice to look at, and he’s nicer to you than anybody else here. 

*

Stevie Nicks or John Lennon, it’s a tough call. Okay, I’m doing two questions from now on, because you ask such good ones :( Who would you jam with then? Question #2: What was the last concert you went to?

This time, you found the Post-It before the school day even started. It was on the seat of his chair, making you think he wanted you to find it right away. You’re thinking maybe he remembered one of the last times you complained about how hard he had made it. Sometimes you worry about how excited you get to look for these each time you sub in his classroom, but then you remember it’s only once every few weeks. 

That can’t hurt, can it? 

That day the hallways were louder than they usually were after school. You attributed that to the boys’ semifinals basketball game set to be played tonight in the gymnasium. The school’s home team against a nearby rival school. Students couldn’t stop talking about it all day, and many of them shared they’d be sticking around after school to attend. Checking your watch, you note that you should have enough time to stop at home to eat dinner before coming back for it. Even though you hadn’t even known about it before today. 

The Sufjan Stevens song floating from his desktop fills the room as you get out books for tomorrow. Your hands are full with copies of The Kite Runner, making you feel grateful again to Harry- Mr. Styles for picking a decent classic for the class to read. Although you’d only read it a few years ago yourself, and it broke your heart, you’re excited to sub next time to help his World Lit class with it. 

“Oh hey, be careful there, yer gonna slip and fall with all o’ those,” somebody says from behind you, distracting you from your mission of bringing the pile of books from the closet to a desk. 

Don’t I know that voice? Turning your eyes to the doorway, you find Green Eyes walk in with a coat slung over his arm. Wait a second. 

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, but your actions that follow negate your words. Your eyes run over his familiar features, and slowly the puzzle pieces start to click in your head. Harry? A thought bomb explodes in your head, and the books tumble from your arms. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yer okay,” he murmurs, stopping in front of you. Kneeling down, you both begin to pick up the books, stacking them on top of each other. “Thanks for gettin’ me set up fer t’morrow though. I appreciate it.” 

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can say, because any words that want to come out can’t get past the lump in your throat. One that’s there because of the realization you just had.

Green Eyes and Harry are the same person. 

How did I not figure this out sooner? 

“So, ya must be Y/N, huh?” he giggles, his head bent down as he helps you pick up the books. 

“Y-Yeah, surprise,” you admit, and your laugh soon joins his. Before you know it, the both of you can’t stop laughing. 

“Here,” you hear him say. Looking up, you find him standing in front of you holding his hand out for you to take. A cozy looking maroon sweater covers his upper half, and blue jeans don the rest. “Fancy meetin’ you here,” he jokes in between laughs. 

“You’re right about that,” you answer, taking his hand. He helps you to your feet where you smooth down the violet skirt of your dress. “I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots.”

“Yer not tha only one, love,” Harry comments, bending over to grab a stack of books. He begins to set one on each desk as he walks down the aisles of them. “But I s’pose there wasn’t any way t’ know.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find you on Facebook,” you confess, cursing yourself for the slip up a few seconds later. Lifting your head from the book you just set on a desk, you find his amused eyes on you across the room. 

“Ah, so ya were stalkin’ me, were ya?” he smirks, his delightful laugh following his words. 

“No, I wasn’t! You’re just one of the only colleagues I’ve subbed for who I’ve never met, or like don’t know what they look like.”

Your small stack soon disappears and when you return to the pile at the back of the room, he does too. 

“So, what d’ya think? Are ya disappointed then?”

“No,” you say automatically, lifting your eyes to his green ones that land on you. His cheeks lined with a thick, neat beard crease with dimples as he smiles at you. 

“Neither am I . . . .  Ms. Vance Joy fan,” he returns, holding your gaze. The sincerity in his words gets under your skin, going straight to your heart. The sarcastic joke inside of them makes you giggle. 

Clearing your throat, you look away with what you’re sure are blushing cheeks. Most likely, an entire blushing face. “What are you doing here, anyways, if you were gone for the day?”

“I can’t miss me boys’ big game, a few o’ me students are on tha team. I thought I’d catch up on sum emails and grading befo’hand, but didn’t know ya’d still be here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just leaving, anyways,” you mutter, your movements stilling. 

“I didn’t mean it dat way, love. ‘m glad we finally met, it was about time, anyways,” Harry insists, and you nod before continuing to place a book at each desk. “Hey wait, you said you were short and all plain in yer note. No, yer not, ya fibber.”

“Oh like your description was any more accurate,” you scoff lightheartedly, setting down a book before grabbing another from your dwindling stack. 

His rich laugh meets your ears, and you can’t resist looking over to him. “Ya didn’t give yerself enough credit, ya know,” he almost coos, and you swear your heart melted into a puddle right then and there. That’s if it hadn’t done so already when you realized he’s Green Eyes. Swoon. 

It’s hard to hold back the excitement curling at the edge of your lips. Soon, you run out of books again and when you take a peek at him, so has he. 

“Were ya gonna go?” he questions, and you deal him one when you look at him confused. “T’ tha game, I mean.”

Your body feels like jello, and that any move you make would be sloppy. Embarrassing. That’s the last thing you want to look like in front of him. With his dazzling smile, adorably dimpled cheeks, and the cozy vibes he’s giving off. Not to mention, the clean citrus scent wafting off of him. A smell you certainly would be okay with smelling for hours on end. If only. 

“Well bloody Rob around tha corner bailed on me, so I have an extra ticket now. Would ya like t’ join me? I was thinkin’ o’ grabbin’ a sub from ‘round tha corner befo’. Concession food ‘s always too expensive, and never worth tha lines at halftime,” Harry suggests, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. One corner of his mouth climbs up his cheek, making you feel like maybe you’re not alone in these jumbled feelings. Or in the fun you’ve had carrying on this blind relationship with him. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Maybe we could get to know each other a little better than the few words Post-It notes can hold.”

Slowly, the other corner of his lips curls upwards, making the dimple fall into his cheek once again. Nodding, his lips split into a full-fledged smile, singing with a chuckle. “I’d really like that,” he reveals before venturing to the door and shutting off the light. Extending an arm, he waves a hand towards himself.

“Hold on, let me get my things.”

“No rush. ’s not like ‘ve waited seven months fer dis or anythin’,” he quips. By now, you’re certain your face resembles a tomato. You hope that in the muted light, perhaps he won’t notice. 

Hurriedly, you slip on your light coat and drape your bag over your shoulder. Your eyes catch something as you’re tucking your phone in your pocket. Grabbing one last thing, you turn to find him watching you from the lit doorway. 

“What?” he wonders aloud, still with that smile etched onto his face. One you’re fairly sure you could get used to seeing. 

“Here,” you tell him, placing the Post-It note in his palm. His fingers dotted with dark hairs brush against you, just for a second longer than need be. 

“Ah, can’t forget dis now. Important stuff here.”

“Indeed,” you note, stifling a laugh as the sarcasm floats in the air. 

You observe his eyes flit across the paper holding your cursive as your steps echo down the empty hallway. 

“Hmmm, funny. It says ‘would you like to meet up sometime’ on here,” Harry reads, casting his twinkling eyes to you. Green eyes. “I was jus’ ‘bout t’ ask ya tha same thing on me next note. But I had sumthin’ that woulda took tha cake fer sure.”

“What’s that?” you remark, wondering how that could be. Those thoughts fly out the window when you feel his arm come around your shoulder. A squeal sounds inside of your head, but hey, at least that’s far less embarrassing than doing it out loud. 

“I was gonna tell ya dat Tracy across tha hall from me ‘s leavin’ afta dis year, and I may have recommended a certain sumbody t’ tha principal t’ replace her,” Harry hums, a knowing glint dancing in his eyes as they hover over you. “What d’ya say t’ bein’ colleagues instead o’ bein’ me sub?”

“I think I could get used to that,” you answer, letting your smile take over your entire face.

“So could I, love. So could I.” 

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Congrats on 900 followers! Can I request “we could get arrested for this” for rowaelin?

I love Rowaelin!! They’re my favorite couple ever and both Rowan and Aelin are my comfort characters. Writing this was fun and I am seriously thinking about doing a smaller part two, just to show what happened afterwards. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 1762

We could get arrested

--

Rowan was pissed.

Actually, pissed didn’t cover half of what he was feeling right now. He should currently be at his apartment, sitting with Aedion and Fenrys. Studying.

Rowan was on his last year of college, pre-law was fucking kicking his ass and although he loved his classes and loved law, he had to admit that he was starting to feel the weight of the next three and a half years closing in on him. He and Aedion would need to take the LSAT in a few months, Fenrys taking the MCAT around the same time. They should be locked up in their apartment reading their textbooks until their eyes looked like raisins.

Instead, Fenrys had left to meet with Asterin around 8 PM. Bored out of his mind, Aedion convinced Rowan to take a quick break and go see his girlfriend at a pub by the end of the street. Just a few minutes, he’d said. Then we can go back to our misery.

A few minutes became a few hours and now Rowan was sitting at a booth with the most insufferable being he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Aedion and Lysandra had ditched him, both going back to her dorm and leaving him with Aedion’s cousin. Aelin was everything that annoyed him. She was loud and talkative, never knowing when to shut the fuck up. The girl was always being sarcastic or teasing anyone around her, and she seemed to think that annoying Rowan was an art form. While Rowan was serious and contained, always the stoic law student, Aelin was an explosion of colors and and cheerfulness. She was in her sophomore year of college double majoring in art and history, and that somehow fit her personality just right.

Like a magnet, his eyes fell on her face again. Creamy golden tan skin, bright blond hair and full lips, Rowan more times than not caught himself staring at her. She was alluring in an infuriating way.

“Can you stop with the pouting? I’m gonna start thinking you don’t like me very much, Ro.” She smiled at him, blood red lips fully parting. As much as it pained him to admit, Aelin was gorgeous. Probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The first time he saw her by Aedion’s side, he contemplated asking her out.

But then she opened her pretty mouth and started talking.

“I don’t.”

Her blue eyes ringed with gold gleamed at his response, almost as if he had asked her to try changing his mind. He groaned, drinking the rest of his beer. He was half tempted to just go back home, but as much as he didn’t like Aelin, he wouldn’t leave her alone in a pub at 2 in the morning. Her dorm wasn’t that close, and she had been drinking. Maybe not enough to be drunk, but slightly tipsy.

As much as Aelin managed to get under his skin with just a few words, he wouldn’t leave her to walk to her dorm alone. Damn, he wouldn’t even leave her at the bar alone. Not because she couldn’t manage herself, because Aelin Galathynius could very well stand her ground, but because he would be preoccupied until the next time he saw her. He kept telling himself he would feel like this regarding any of his girl friends, but Aelin wasn’t his friend. He would then tell himself that it was because she was Aedion’s cousin.

“I am not that bad, you know.” She said, his head whipping at her direction when he heard her hurt tone. The last thing he needed was to get on Aelin’s bad side, which would also lead to Aedion’s bad side. And Fenrys’s. And Lysandra’s. She was, however, smiling at him. She placed a hand above her heart in a mocking gesture. “You break my heart when you act like this, baby.”

“You’re a fucking child.” He got up, grabbing his jacket. It was almost Yulemas week, and Orynth was fucking frigid during this time of the year. It was a miracle that it wasn’t snowing. “Get your pretty ass up, Princess. I’m taking you home.”

“You think I have a pretty ass?” She laughed but got up once he narrowed his eyes at her. “And called me princess… Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do, Whitethorn.”

“I’m just tired of playing your babysitter. I can find more interesting things to do.” He sighed, grabbing her coat and handing it to her, not letting go even when she grabbed it. He was too focused on her eyes that gleamed again but a little differently this time.

“I think I can find more interesting things to do and ways in which you can play with me, too, Ro.”

He was too stunned by her words that when she pulled her coat from his hands, he simply let it go. Aelin had always been flirty with everyone in their friend group, always joking around, but the way she had said it had been different. There was a buzzing inside Rowan’s head, and he swallowed as he watched her put on her coat.

Maybe he was imagining things. He had drank a few beers, and the lightning in the pub was terrible. He was just imagining that she was serious about her words, that he would have been struck dumb by any girl saying that. Any girl with bright golden hair, the most enticing blue eyes he had even seen and full red lips. He was just imagining that her voice had dropped, that her eyes had darkened and that her smile shifted so slightly.

Just imagining.

Right.

“You coming, buzzard?” She called after him and started walking towards the exit. With her normal attitude back, he snapped back to reality. Rowan clenched his jaw and did not stare at Aelin’s back profile. It was unfair how the rest of her was just as beautiful as her face.

“Brat,” he breathed.

“Brute,” she replied.

Because she couldn’t see his face, Rowan smiled a little at that.

Once they stepped outside of the pub, the cold air immediately punched them full force. As Aelin had been born and raised in Orynth, she was already used to it. Rowan, however, still missed the very mild winters from Doranelle.

“Can’t handle a little cold?” Aelin teased.

“If you think that this is ‘little cold’ I really don’t want to imagine how it was during your childhood.” He grunted, shoving his hands inside his pockets. To his dismay, Aelin looped her arm through his and started walking in the general direction of her dorm. “This is torturous for anyone who grew up in a hot place.”

“Doranelle, right?” He merely nodded, his face too stiff to talk. “The accent gives away. And the fact you can’t handle a little cold.”

“Aelin, I am sure I can feel my fingers freezing.”

“And I am the fucking child?” She laughed up at him, the sound of her voice making him relax a little. She pressed into his side, passing an arm through his middle. “There, I’ll make sure you don’t freeze to death. I’m hot enough to do that.”

It was his turn to laugh, but it sounded more like a snort. They walked in silence for a while, and it wasn’t a horrible experience. Walking with Aelin through the streets of Orynth, seeing the Yulemas decorations with her pressed against his side wasn’t that horrible. He wouldn’t mind doing it again.

What?

Before he could stop and think about that thought, Aelin’s voice rang out. “I meant it earlier, you know?” And suddenly his heart was pounding on his chest, the blood roaring on his head and he miraculously wasn’t cold anymore.

“About what?” He tried to keep his voice calm.

“About me not being that bad.” He was filled with relief and disappointment at the same time. He had certainly been thinking about something else she had said. “I know that you are all serious and boring,” her voice was normal, but she was smiling at the words. “But I am actually more than your best friend’s annoying cousin.”

“Oh yeah, I know. You were never Aedion’s annoying cousin in my head, just a random annoying person. All by yourself, so don’t worry.” He said seriously, but the corner of his lips were turning upward. It was hard to keep from smiling especially when Aelin looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“You are an asshole. Like grade-A asshole.”

“As I have been told.”

“It’s probably a lawyer’s thing.”

“Said the art major. Isn’t being an asshole part of your curriculum?” He said, earning a pinch to his side in response. He laughed, seeing his breath in front of him. He looked around a bit, realizing that they weren’t even going in the direction of Aelin’s dorm anymore. “Galathynius.”

“Yes?” She said sweetly, as if she had already realized that he had realized they weren’t where they were supposed to be.

“Where are we?”

She started walking slower when they reached an old building. Aelin pulled him into an alley, stopping right in front of a back door for the building. She let go of Rowan and crouched, taking a pin from her head and starting to pick the lock.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re a smart boy, you already know. I’m breaking and entering.” She said matter-of-factly.

“We could get arrested for this, Aelin!” He was trying to keep his voice down, but he really wanted to scream at her right now. “It’s not like I can afford going to jail. Stop this shit and let me take you home.” He was about to say more when he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, there was no one there. Rowan was about to leave the alley to see if it was someone when Aelin let out a triumphant noise and the door opened. “No. No, no no, no.”

“I’ve been here before alone. The building doesn’t have security cameras, and it is abandoned.” She said, stepping in. “Live a little. You’ll have time to be a holier than thou, perfect law abiding lawyer for the rest of your life. Right now let me show you my special place.”

He was still wary. “Why?”

Aelin understood the question, that he wanted to know why she was showing him her ‘special place’. She smiled broadly at him, fully entering the building. “Because you said I had a pretty ass, Ro.”

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Seven

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Seven

Jace knew they were in trouble as soon as he saw Maia’s face. The Cheshire Cat had nothing on her grin as she sauntered into Java Jones Monday afternoon, the last of their group to arrive.

She pulled a chair up between Jace and Simon, spun it around with a flourish to sit on it backwards, and flung an arm around both their shoulders. “So, is this the part where I say mazel tov?”

“I am going to literally murder my sister,” Simon announced.

Lily perked up. “Wait, what happened?” She looked between Simon and Jace, then fixed an intense gaze on Maia. “Did one of them finally break down and call you? Why didn’t you assholes mention anything? Who won the bet?”

“Oh, I got a call,” Maia said. “Not from either of these fools, though.”

Jace drained his coffee cup, wishing it were vodka instead. There was clearly no stopping this, so he might as well just face the music now.

“According to Becky, she and her grandmother caught these two in a storage closet about to get down and dirty, and Jace tried to cover up what they were doing by pretending he was down on his knees to propose.”

“Oh no,” Maureen said through a fit of giggles. “That’s terrible.”

Jace flipped her off, which only made her giggle harder.

“Don’t worry,” Maia said, patting Simon’s shoulder, “Becky said she’s like ninety percent sure your grandma didn’t know what was really up.”

“I can hide two bodies,” Simon told her. “I have a van.”

“And my sister is studying forensics,” Jace added. “I bet she’d tell me how to cover up a crime scene if I asked.”

“Every time you bring up your family, I just have more questions,” Lily said.

“Wait,” Maureen said suddenly, holding up her hands. Everyone looked at her. “If you guys are giving each other clandestine blowjobs, does this mean everyone in our friend group has slept together now?”

“Nope,” Bat said, and Jace shook his head.

“Wait, really?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised.

“We thought for sure you two were hooking up back when Simon and I were dating,” Maureen added, looking at Bat. “Jace was over at your place pretty much all the time.”

Jace stared intently into his empty coffee cup. He wasn’t about to tell them he’d spent so much time at Bat’s because he couldn’t quite stomach spending time in his apartment when Simon and Maureen were there, together.

“Jace was over at my place sulking because he got his ass dumped.” Which was the excuse Jace had given him. “He swore me to secrecy because he didn’t want you guys giving him shit for getting his heart broken.”

“You seem to be a little confused about the whole concept of secrecy, though,” Jace said.

“You could’ve told us,” Maureen said, earnest and sympathetic. “We wouldn’t tease you about something if you were really hurting.”

“Well, I’d tease you a little,” Lily said.

“You had your heart broken?” Simon’s voice was soft, and when Jace met his eyes, he found a confused curiosity there. Which of course there would be, Jace realized, given the conversation they’d had on the drive home, where he’d admitted that he hadn’t been serious about anyone since Clary.

“I wasn’t heartbroken,” Jace said, putting as much disdain as he could manage into the word. “Sasha just had some very strong opinions when I told her I didn’t want to get serious, and I kind of wanted to lay low for a while after.” The part about Sasha wasn’t even a lie.

“Oh,” Lily said, dragging the word out with relish. “You were embarrassed because she told you off in public.”

Bat looked skeptical. “You really expect me to believe you spent three weeks curled up on my couch eating Double Stuf Oreos because your ego was bruised?”

“Of course not.” Jace grinned at him. “That was because you’re a sucker who kept buying me Double Stuf Oreos.”

Maia smacked his arm hard enough to sting. “No taking advantage of Bat’s kind and generous spirit.”

Bat looked unconvinced. “Well, next time you decide to hide out at my place because you definitely didn’t get your heart broken, you’re on your own for Oreos.”

Simon was still watching him. “I would’ve shared my Oreos if I knew you needed them.” His tone was far too serious for a conversation about Oreos. Like maybe he knew Jace was hiding something. Like maybe he suspected what Jace was hiding.

Jace flashed him a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’m taking that as an invitation to steal your Oreos whenever I want from now on.”

“Dude, you can’t just steal Oreos!” Maureen protested. “That’s like rule number two of the roommate code.”

“What’s rule number one?” Bat asked.

“Booze,” Maureen and Lily answered in unison.

“And for everyone who keeps asking how we managed to share a dorm and not murder each other freshman year,” Lily continued, “this is the answer.”

“Truth,” Maureen agreed.

This sparked a lively debate about what did and did not constitute violations of roommate code that lasted until Jace had to leave for his evening class.

Two days later, a package of Double Stuf Oreos appeared on Jace’s desk. He didn’t bring them up, and neither did Simon.

~~~

Jace wasn’t sure exactly how they started studying together on the couch instead of their separate rooms. It might have been that one group study session where everyone else had to bail early. But somewhere along the line, he’d started dragging his textbooks and laptop out to the living room any time he needed to get work done. Half the time, he found Simon already there, and the times he didn’t, Simon usually joined him pretty soon after.

And it was…nice. Comfortable in a way Jace tried not to think about. Just another item on his ever-growing list of things not to think about. Conveniently, his assigned paper on the Thirty Years’ War didn’t leave room for thinking about much of anything else.

Which was probably why it took him so long to notice on this particular evening that he and Simon had somehow migrated from their usual spots at either end of the couch to sharing its center. And once he did notice, all thoughts of the Second Defenestration of Prague went out the window, the warmth of Simon’s leg against his own and occasional bump of their shoulders as they worked driving him to distraction.

It was stupid, really. It wasn’t like they never touched. In fact, Jace would bet they’d spent more of their time together over the past few months touching than not, in increasingly creative ways.

But they didn’t touch like this, without teasing or seduction or intent. It made Jace feel twitchy. Restless. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into it, to let the warmth of Simon’s touch seep under his skin. But a far greater part was telling him to pull away, to retreat back to his end of the couch. Or maybe to turn and press Simon back into the couch cushions and turn this into something far more familiar. Something safer.

“Hey,” Simon said, making Jace flinch in surprise. If Simon noticed, he didn’t let on. “I was gonna make stroganoff for dinner tonight, and I’m pretty ready for a break. Any chance I could talk you into slicing mushrooms for me while I start on the beef?”

It took Jace several seconds to process the question, so far from what he’d been thinking. “Um. Yeah. Sure, sounds good.”

Once they made their way to the kitchen, Jace was grateful to be back on familiar ground. They didn’t cook together often—didn’t have much time for cooking at all, really—but they’d done it a handful of times, and they worked well together in a kitchen, which was not something Jace could say about most of his friends, or his family.

It was also, he realized as he stood next to Simon at the stove, boiling egg noodles while Simon stirred the roux, acutely domestic. It was another addition to the list of things he wasn’t going to think about.

When they returned to the living room, bowls of saucy noodles and beef in hand, Simon sat right back down in the middle of the couch, where he’d been before they got up to make dinner. Jace hesitated only an instant before reclaiming his spot next to him. Simon flashed him a quick smile before pulling his financial analytics textbook over to balance precariously on his knee so he could read while he ate. Jace tore his gaze away, turning his attention half-heartedly back to his notes.

By the time he finished eating, Jace had realized two very important things. First, he needed to make another trip to the library if he wanted to have enough sources to back up his thesis. Second, it would be far too easy to get used to nights like tonight, and that wasn’t something he could allow himself to do. Before he could make himself do something about it, though, Simon shifted, half-turning to pull his knees up onto the couch and letting his head rest back against Jace’s shoulder.

“This okay? The light’s better like this.”

Jace took maybe a second too long to answer. “It’s fine.”

He placed his empty bowl on the coffee table—gingerly, so as not to jostle Simon—and returned to his reading. When he shifted a few minutes later, tossing one arm over the back of the couch and letting Simon rest against his chest, it was just a matter of comfort, really. Letting his hand come to rest on Simon’s chest, fingers absently toying with the neckline of his shirt, was not, but Simon didn’t object.

When his fingers encountered skin-warm metal, it took Jace several seconds to realize it. By the time he did, his fingers had already followed the line of the chain down to the center of Simon’s chest, where the object that hung from it rested beneath his t-shirt. He recognized its shape at the same time he felt Simon go unnaturally still.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Simon said in a rush.

Jace traced the shape of the ring through Simon’s shirt. His ring. “It’s a good place to keep it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, flattening his hand against Simon’s chest. The ring pressed into his palm, the telltale beat of Simon’s heart thrumming behind it. He wondered if his own were beating just as fast.

“You know,” he said slowly, “Alec is getting married next month.”

Simon relaxed against him with a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that in the approximately five hundred phone calls you’ve had in the last couple weeks.”

“A best man’s work is never done, apparently.” He took a breath, let it out. “But, I was thinking, you should come with me.”

Simon craned his neck to look at him. “Like, to play your boyfriend again, or…?”

As my date. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. He wasn’t ready to risk that he might be reading this wrong. He’d done it before, and for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, it felt so much more dangerous now.

“I mean, it would be weird if you didn’t, right?” he said instead. “Since my entire family thinks we’re together still.”

“Right.” Simon looked back at the book in his lap, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Jace could almost imagine he sounded disappointed. “Totally weird. I think Clary’s expecting me to be there, anyway.”

“Cool. I’ll RSVP you as my plus-one.”

Simon made a soft noise of affirmation and returned to his reading. Jace tried to go back to his, but he found himself unable to concentrate. After reading the same paragraph five times and not retaining a single word of it, he gave up and let his head loll against the back of the couch, cheek resting lightly against the top of Simon’s head. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

Jace was pulled out of sleep sometime later by gentle fingers stroking through his hair. He scrunched up his face and made an unhappy noise; he wasn’t ready to be awake.

“If you’re going to sleep, you should go to bed.”

Jace cracked an eye open to find Simon watching him with a fond smile. Still half-asleep, it was easy to smile back, something warm and soft settling in his chest. Sometime while he slept, they’d shifted again so Simon was leaning back against the arm of the couch with Jace sprawled half on top of him. Simon’s books were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Jace wondered how long they’d been there.

“‘M comfy.”

Simon chuckled. “You won’t be if you stay here all night and wake up with a sore back.”

Jace thought that spending the night with Simon as his pillow might be worth waking up with a sore back, but the fog of sleep had lifted enough that the feeling of impending danger was returning. He pushed himself up to sitting and immediately missed Simon’s warmth.

“I think I’m a couple decades away from waking up with a sore back from one night spent on the couch.”

He reached for his dirty bowl, still sitting on the table, but Simon stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Leave it. You’re tired; I’ve got the dishes.”

Jace frowned at him.

“Go to bed,” Simon insisted with a laugh. “You’re obviously exhausted.”

It was the laugh that got him. The way Simon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. The way he always smiled wide enough to show teeth. The way it never failed to tug at something inside Jace, urging him to smile back no matter how much he might resist it. Except this time it was less of a tug than a wrench that threatened to break him wide open.

Jace remembered, with sudden, vivid clarity, that drunken conversation he’d had with Maia last year. The one he tried to forget ever happened.

They’d all be hanging out at Maia’s new apartment, a tiny studio that wasn’t really big enough to host a six-person housewarming party, but they’d made it work because she was so proud of finally making good enough tips she could afford to live in her own place off campus.

Everyone but Jace had early morning classes that semester, so he’d stayed behind to keep the party going with Maia while the others had headed home. Jace didn’t remember how many shots it had taken for him to start complaining about Simon’s propensity for wandering around the apartment in only a towel, but he absolutely remembered Maia’s knowing grin.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

“It’s not a crush,” Jace had insisted. “He’s just annoyingly hot.” If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have spoken the next words. He wouldn’t have even let himself think them. “And I bet he’d be stupidly easy to fall in love with, too.”

And then Maia had laughed so hard she’d fallen over onto her cheap, beige carpet that still smelled faintly of new plastic while Jace was left to deal with the slowly dawning realization of what he’d just said.

“Before you fall asleep again,” Simon prompted, snapping Jace’s mind back to the present. Where Simon was smiling at him with an indisputable fondness that made Jace feel raw and exposed.

“Right,” Jace said, practically jumping up from the couch. “Bed. Thanks. For,” he waved his hand vaguely, “dishes and whatever.”

“No problem,” Simon said, bemused. “Sleep well.”

Jace understood what that feeling of danger was about now. It seemed there was some truth to that old adage about finding answers at the bottom of a bottle; it had been so easy, he wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen in love.

~~~

“You’re sure this is a classic?” Jace eyed the grainy opening shots of the movie playing on Simon’s laptop with some skepticism.

They normally did movie night out in the living room, on the flat-screen TV that had probably cost more than every other piece of furniture in their apartment combined, but Simon insisted a film this old would look ridiculous on a large HD screen. Considering how bad it looked even on Simon’s old laptop, it was probably the right call. And Jace wasn’t going to complain about having to squish together on Simon’s bed so they could both see the screen, even if that did make it feel perilously close to being a date.

“Cult classic,” Simon corrected. “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama is, like, peak so-bad-it’s-good 80’s horror comedy. And they’re making a sequel with the original cast, so you have to watch the original.”

Jace grabbed a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in Simon’s lap. “You mean so you can drag me to the sequel when it comes out?”

“Exactly.” Simon grinned at him. “Thanks for offering to see it with me.”

“That’s not what just happened,” Jace said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Agree to disagree.”

The movie turned out to be surprisingly entertaining, film quality and 80’s aesthetics notwithstanding. And the atrocious special effects. And, well, the entire plot, really.

“Do you think sororities were really like that back in the 80’s?” Simon wondered as the titular sorority babes outlined the hazing their pledges would undergo.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of them still are,” Jace said. “But Greek life isn’t really my thing, even if I have seen the inside of a few sorority houses in my time.”

“Was that supposed to be a flex?”

Jace ignored that comment and pulled out his phone. “Alec might know, though.”

Simon leaned in to watch Jace type, resting his chin on Jace’s shoulder. “I know I’ve only met your brother once, but I’m having trouble picturing him anywhere near a sorority.”

“Alec was in a fraternity in college,” Jace explained.

“Yeah, no, still not seeing it.” Even after Jace sent the text, he didn’t move away.

Alec’s response came only moments later.

why would I know that Phi Beta Kappa is an academic fraternity and sorority girls are well outside my areas of interest

“Okay, that makes sense.” Simon slid the bowl of popcorn off his lap so he could lean more fully into Jace’s side.

maybe ask Iz

Jace snorted and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He reached for the popcorn and gave an irritated huff when he found it just out of reach.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Simon grabbed the bowl and moved it to Jace’s other side. On impulse, Jace caught his hand and laced their fingers together. They hadn’t talked about that night on the couch—not about the casual intimacy or Simon wearing Jace’s ring around his neck or Jace falling asleep on Simon or any of it—but there was no question things were different between them since. Or maybe it was just Jace that was different, knowing how deep he was in this just making him more reckless with his heart.

Simon’s fingers curled around his, his arm coming to rest draped over Jace’s hip as he let out a small, contented sigh.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Jace. But Jace wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He could probably have written an entire treatise on navigating hookups, but he had no idea how to navigate…whatever this was. The only experience he had with actual romantic relationships was with Clary, and despite how fucked up they’d both been back then—or maybe even because they’d both been so fucked up—there had never been any ambiguity about how they felt, no questions about what they were to each other. No wondering if she knew she could do so much better than him.

It was different with Simon. Simon, who never seemed fazed by the shit life threw at him. Simon, who actually dated, and always seemed to leave a breakup on good terms. Simon, who held him like he was afraid Jace might break, who fucked him like he wanted him to break.

Simon, who had to know he could do better than Jace.

“Let me guess,” Jace said as the two characters he’d mentally tagged as the protagonists ducked into a closet to escape a demonic minion, “the nerd and the hot bad girl are the only survivors, and they get together at the end.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “You don’t get any points for guessing that. This is a comedy made in the 80’s that leans heavily into the tropes of the era.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I guessed it. I just figured you’d be into the whole ‘nerd gets the bad girl’ thing.”

“That’s not why I like this movie,” Simon said. “But Spider might have been part of why 12-year-old me liked this movie,” he admitted.

“Thought so,” Jace said smugly.

“You’re the worst.” Simon’s arm tightened around Jace’s waist, belying his words. “I’m seriously questioning why I even like you right now.”

“Because I’m charming, witty, and great in bed.”

The smile Simon flashed him probably shouldn’t have made Jace’s stomach do a pleasant little flip, but it did. “Those are some pretty great selling points.”

“Watch your dumb movie,” Jace said, trying and failing to hide his own smile.

When Jace’s phone buzzed several minutes later during a particularly tense scene, they both jumped. Jace pulled it out to check his new messages, then chuckled and turned the screen so Simon could read Alec’s message.

Magnus says there was at least one sorority exactly like that five years ago also I’m now being subjected to this atrocious movie, so thanks for that

“I knew Magnus would have good taste in movies,” Simon commented.

“I’m disturbed you can even talk about this movie and good taste in the same sentence.”

“Oh, come on,” Simon said reproachfully. “Didn’t you once tell me that any movie with boobs and explosions was a good movie?”

“Yeah, but this movie doesn’t have any—” On screen, the nerd threw a Molotov cocktail at a possessed sorority babe. Jace sighed. “Objection withdrawn.”

Simon flashed him a smug grin. “Admit it, I’ve got fantastic taste.”

Jace smirked. “I do like the way you taste.”

“Not what I—” He cut off as Jace illustrated his point by licking a line up Simon’s throat.

Simon let out a hiss. “You’re going to miss the end of the movie.” He didn’t pull away.

“Told you,” Jace murmured, scraping teeth along his jaw, “I already know the nerd and biker girl are going to survive. I don’t need to see the end.”

Simon turned his head to catch Jace’s lips with his own in a surprisingly gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup Jace’s cheek. They stayed like that for what felt to Jace like hours but couldn’t actually have been more than a minute or two judging by the tinny screams coming from the laptop speakers.

“What do you need?” Simon whispered when he finally broke the kiss. His tone was teasing, but the way his thumb caressed Jace’s cheekbone was all sincerity.

“Just this,” Jace whispered back, and it was the truest thing he’d ever said.

Then they were kissing again, slow and soft, and Jace thought he might drown in it, thought he might want to drown in it. He kissed Simon like he’d been wanting to for weeks, for months. Maybe longer. He put everything he felt into the kiss—his hope and his love and his fear—and prayed that Simon would understand, that he wouldn’t pull away.

He didn’t.

They kissed until they were breathless with it, until the last strains of the movie’s closing credits had long since faded away, until there was no room for anything in Jace’s thoughts and heart and dreams but Simon. He knew he was grinning like an idiot when they finally broke apart, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially not with Simon grinning back at him.

“See?” Jace combed a hand through Simon’s curls. He couldn’t stop touching. “Way better than that movie.”

“You don’t know that,” Simon protested. “You didn’t even watch the end. It could have been twenty straight minutes of boobs and explosions, and you’d never even know.”

“Weirdly, I think I might like kissing you even more than I like boobs and explosions.”

“Wow, high praise.” Simon was still teasing, and Jace suddenly needed him to understand how much he wasn’t really joking.

“No, seriously.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Simon’s neck, drew him close enough to feel his breath. “I—” Words he meant far too much—that would be too much—stuck behind his teeth. “I’m not really here for the movie,” he said instead. “No matter how many boobs or explosions it has. You get that, right?”

“I—yeah.”

There was something subdued and almost vulnerable in Simon’s voice, something that didn’t quite track with the conversation they were having, but before Jace could even catch the thread of it, he was being pushed back into the bed and kissed breathless once again. By the time Simon was tugging his shirt over his head, brushing calloused fingertips over a peaked nipple and making him gasp, Jace thought he must have imagined it.

Simon took him apart slowly, deliberately, maintaining a calm focus even when Jace teased, never altering his pace even when Jace begged. And Jace did beg, edging on desperation before they even got all their clothes off. By the time Simon had him spread out on the bed, opening him up with slick fingers and teasing his dick with strokes far too light to even approach enough, Jace wasn’t sure he was capable of anything but begging.

“Simon, please.” He scrabbled ineffectually at Simon’s shoulders, trying ineffectually to drag him close. The angle was bad for it, but Simon was also strong, something that was easy to forget until they were like this. It was also seriously fucking hot. “Please. Fuck. Need you in me already, please.”

“You’re so beautiful.” There was an edge to Simon’s voice, but Jace still thought he sounded far too composed for what they were doing, for what he was doing to Jace. “God, do you even know?”

Jace couldn’t even begin to answer, because Simon chose that moment to press his fingers very deliberately against Jace’s prostate, and the only words Jace was capable of anymore were garbled curses and Simon’s name.

“You have to know.” Simon withdrew his fingers and all Jace could do was whine in protest. “I bet people tell you all the time.”

Jace shook his head, not sure if he was disagreeing or just objecting to the sudden tragic lack of Simon’s hands on him and in him. Simon pressed a soothing kiss to his knee before pulling away to roll a condom onto his own dick, which took way too long in Jace’s opinion, but it was enough time for Jace to find his voice again.

“Please, Simon.” His voice was half a sob, and he didn’t even care. “Need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Simon breathed, the faintest tremor in his voice as leaned in to line his cock up with Jace’s hole and brushed the lightest of kisses against his lips.

“Yes,” Jace whispered. “Yes, please.”

And then Simon was finally, finally pushing inside, and Jace was rocking down against him, desperate and greedy for everything Simon was willing to give him. It took exactly two thrusts for Simon’s composure to crack completely, and Jace swallowed down his moans as greedily as he took everything else, licking into Simon’s mouth to chase every sound.

Jace would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came after that, lasting maybe a full ten seconds after Simon wrapped a hand around his dick, except that Simon was right there with him, following him over the edge with a barely audible, “Fuck, fuck, Jace, oh god.”

After, they lay next to each other on the bed, catching their breaths. This would normally be when one of them left to go back to their own room, or went to take a shower, or make food, or anything, really, to keep this thing between them from seeming like more than it was. Except it was more for Jace. Maybe for both of them.

“You’ve got me.”

Jace wasn’t sure if Simon had meant the words the way Jace wanted him to, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the possibility that he did. Trying not to overthink it, he curled into Simon’s side, resting a hand on his chest.

For a few seconds, Simon went absolutely still, and Jace thought for sure he’d fucked everything up. But just as cold dread was beginning to claw its way up his throat, Simon let out a shaky breath and cuddled closer, pulling the blanket up to cover them both and covering Jace’s hand with his own. Jace smiled into Simon’s shoulder.

“You’ve got me.”

He would hold onto that for as long as Simon let him.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Yatori Week 2021- Day 4

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

Yukine was in the living room studying for midterms when his dad busted the door down and flounced into the room.

This was a common occurrence, as this man was not his biological dad, but rather a once concerned neighbor that adopted him and was therefore hardly a decade older than the teen. There could be many reasons why his dad, a man named Yato, was excited:

He saw something to do with Capybaras

He got an extra sketchy side job for pocket change

The weather was nice

He bought junk with said pocket change

Anything to do with his beloved girlfriend, Hiyori

Based on the way the young man skipped into the living room, high on cloud nine, Yukine could only assume it was the last option. With sigh, Yukine closed his textbook and readied himself to lose the rest of his study time. Yato tended to talk about his girlfriend for hours on end, like he’s never seen nor heard of them before her, and Yukine would not be able to focus. Now, Yukine liked his dad’s girlfriend. Loved her in fact. His dad was her art tutor- and class nude model- in college since she struggled with the subject as a medical major. Eventually she had become Yukine’s tutor in everything else except math, which was reserved for his dad. It was unclear if Yato hired her, or she did it out of the kindness of her heart, or the two just wanted to see more of each other, but Hiyori wormed her way into both their hearts.

“Yukine!”

“What?” Yukine drawled. His dad was a whirlwind of smiles and flailing arms as he tumbled towards Yukine. Used to this too, the blonde simply waited for Yato to sit directly in front of him without knocking him over. Yukine blinked as his dad struggled to find the words to communicate in a language they both understood. It tended to take some time, as falling in love with Hiyori Iki was a grand affair that wrestled your heart and tied your tongue. She tended to have that effect on people, as most kind-angels did. However, when all he did was wheeze and let out a strange coo mixed with a whine, Yukine couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes.

“I did it!” Yato beamed.

“Did what?”

“I finished that old lady’s kitchen and finally got enough money!” He burst. In a fit of laughter that strangers might have thought was madness, the young man rolled onto his back and kicked his feet. It took a moment for Yukine to realize his theory was somehow wrong before he crawled over top of his dad.

“What-ugh,” Yukine slapped away the hands that covered the man’s face, “what are you saving for? You never save money. I’m surprised we haven’t missed any bills yet.” Hands away his face, his dad’s bright blue eyes stared into Yukine’s hazel, full of unbridled joy . That was hardly a good sign; Yato was known for extravagant plans that he got far too excited over. Especially when they failed more often than not. Honestly, Hiyori was a saint for staying with such a spaz.

“That’s the thing!” The man gasped. He didn’t wait for his son’s answer, leaping to his feet to dash into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Yukine was rolling his eyes, of course it was about her. Yato ran back to his spot on the floor next to his son.

“Our two year anniversary is coming up in a few weeks and you know it’s around that time! The age, the lifestyle, the current situation,” he swooned, “her parents and Kofuku and Daikoku!”

“What. Are you talking about?” Yukine groaned as he kneaded his forehead. Just because his dad was capable of speech, didn’t mean he used it properly.

“I want to propose,” he said, “I want to propose to Hiyori.” The three magazines that he clenched in his hands were squeezed so tightly they crinkled. This time it was big blue eyes that watched Yukine struggle to find words. Yukine sucked in air, swallowed, stared, opened his mouth with nothing to come out, blinked a few times, then swallowed again. The logical part of this brain just shrugged, this was the obvious next step. They loved each other, were old enough, and that was usually the point of dating, what it led to. It wouldn’t change their day to day. The emotional side was shocked, blindsided, and completely convinced this would change everything.

Just the word ‘proposal’ was heavy in Yukine’s mind because ‘proposal’ led to ‘wedding’ which means ‘marriage’ which equals ‘family.’ Not that they weren’t already a family, they moved in to Hiyori’s place a little less than a year ago but that was a financial decision if anything. The more childish part of Yukine, the one that had originally protested the relationship and acted out during the first month of their dating, feared that this would take away even more of Yato’s attention. Because the fact was that marriage led to more children. But Yukine knew better than that by now. On the other hand, families, something Yukine had once before Yato, left a sour taste in his mouth. What’s more, this would without a doubt make Hiyori his ‘mother’ and this would mean Yukine wouldn’t just have a ‘parent’ but ‘parents,’ functioning ones that both loved him.

That last thought resonated in Yukine’s chest. Yato and Hiyori loved him very much, unconditionally, and he loved them. They were already a family and Yukine- Yukine wouldn’t mind calling Hiyori ‘mom’ if she ever wanted to adopt him. But most importantly, Yukine finally let his eyes drop from Yato’s and fall to the magazines. They were all for different jewelry stores, the outlines of their pages lined with little color tabs. Yukine could imagine they were covered in little notes and doodles from long before this moment. Most importantly, Yato deserved this. He was a single, smart, and kind young man that worked his way from the very bottom. Even Yukine was old enough to understand that for someone in that position- an impoverished college student- that Yato had taken on a lot, adopting him. It couldn’t have been easy to find someone. Someone as genuine as Hiyori who loved him just as much. Yato deserved this and he deserved to have Yukine support him. Which Yukine found that he truly, truly did.

“That’s great,” Yukine finally said. His voice cracked from the emotion and worry flashed across Yato’s face. But with one sniff and a genuine smile, Yukine showed that he was happy for them. The two dissolved into excited giggles and laughter, eyes blurry with emotion.

“I want you to help me pick it out. I want you with me when I buy it and help me plan the whole thing! I want you to be there with me, I need my kiddo for support,” Yato confessed. Blinking away the moist sheen, Yukine nodded once with a wobbly smile. His dad laughed with every ounce of giddiness and happiness that Yukine felt.

“Originally I was going to make one-”

“No,” Yukine said offhandedly as he wiped his eyes. Yato waved his hands and put down the magazines.

“I know! I know. This is super important and Hiyori deserves the actual ring. The best of the best! I can’t keep getting away with handmade gifts,” Yato said as he opened to a tab in each of the magazines. Yukine eyed the objects he circled and crossed out, writing everywhere.

“You make great hand-made gifts,” Yukine muttered as he fiddled with the cuff of his hand-made christmas sweater. His dad looked up to him, down at his hands, then back up with a smile.

“Well, I was thinking of making her golden knucklebusters, with diamonds of course, as an early wedding present.” Yato huffed.

“She’d like that a lot,” Yukine laughed, “just don’t let her parents see.”

“Oh god no! They already hardly like me.”

“They like you.”

“Yeah, cause I fix their house for free. Redo their kitchen,” Yato mumbled, “I hope they approve of this. I already asked them but the dad seemed more on board with it than her mom.”

“Hey,” Yukine nudged his dad, “that’s a good sign. At least you asked first.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right! This is good! She just needs to say yes.”

“She’ll say yes,” Yukine huffed with another roll of his eyes. Despite himself, even Yukine felt the small spark of fear at the possibility of Hiyori saying otherwise. They flipped through the magazines for a couple minutes longer, Yukine balking at the prices and mental math of costs per month.

“Ah!” Yato suddenly shot up and grabbed both of Yukine’s hands, knocking the book out of his hands.

“H-hey!” Yukine sputtered, wincing at his dad’s sweaty hands.

“But you can’t tell anyone!” Yato insisted, “this is a surprise. It has to stay a secret. Okay? Don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

“Okay!” Yukine finally yanked his hands away.

“You promise?” Yato urged, leaning even closer. His son shoved his face away and picked up his magazine.

“Yes! Yes! I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

They really were made for each other, Yukine thought a couple days later, like soulmates. Once again he was at home, heading to his room after Yato dropped him off. They had a family dinner later and Yukine wanted to chill at home with Hiyori while Yato went to prepare for the proposal. The house was quiet when he walked in so Yukine slipped the quarts of ice cream in the freezer and made his way to his room. Hiyori must be in bed. She hadn’t been feeling well recently, getting nauseous everyday for the past week. All those thoughts went out the window when, on the way to his room, the bathroom door cracked open and Hiyori’s head popped out.

“Yukine!” She hissed, “Yukine!” If it weren’t for her eyes being so wide and pleading, Yukine might have felt a bit more embarrassed by the sight. He stopped short in the hall.

“What’s wrong?” He said immediately. First she looked nervously off to the side, then to him, then up, then behind her, then back at him, letting out a whine disguised as a hum.

“What?” Yukine asked, a bit more nervously now. Still finding it difficult to answer, Hiyori’s arm slipped out and waved him over. Fearing she might have a broken bone, Yukine took one look at the house phone then walked over to the bathroom door, heart in his throat.

“Are you ok-ay!” Yukine squawked as the front of his shirt was grabbed and he was yanked into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. He quickly glanced behind him, at the barrier, then back at his friend. She looked nervous, which made Yukine nervous. He would even say she looked anxious, scared, but the air buzzed with an excited tension. In front of her, Hiyori played with her fingers as she struggled to meet his gaze.

“Hiyori, are you okay?” Yukine finally got out. She looked okay, well not ‘okay’ okay but physically safe. The sweat that beaded her brow and the way her knees almost knocked together said otherwise.

“Um,” Hiyori looked up then down, “yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I- I think so?” Terrified at the thought of anything bad happening, Yukine quickly approached her with his hands up.

“What happened? What’s wrong? Do you need me to call Yato? We should call-”

“No!” Hiyori blurted out, causing Yukine to flinch. At this point he was almost shaking, Hiyori was rarely against calling Yato, especially during emergencies. More than just being the man of the house, Yato knew everything! He was calm and cool under pressure and could take on any problem without delay, dropping everything to help. Yukine certainly didn’t want to deal with whatever this was without at least telling his dad. Seeing the panic bubble, Hiyori reached forward and gently held Yukine’s hands like she often did during these times.

“No, no, no, it’s okay! It’s nothing bad! Nothing’s wrong!” Hiyori comforted, “I just got worrie- excited! I’m nervous about something and I wanted to tell you in private. It’s okay, nobody’s in danger,” her words quickly calmed Yukine back down.

“O-oh, okay,” Yukine nodded, “so, so what’s up?” He stuck his hands in his pocket to hide their shaking while Hiyori went back to fiddling with her fingers.

“I have a, uh, surprise! For Yato. And I, uh, wanted to hear your thoughts first.” She stammered out. This was rather confusing, but Yukine was relieved to hear that was all it was. Maybe she had a big anniversary present planned that she wanted his opinion with.

“Oh okay, what is it?”

“Well it’s not an ‘it’ exactly. It’s more of a, uh, uh, thing? Not a thing! It’s not a thing! I’m a thing? I’m something? I-I-I have something to give to Yato. And you? The family. My family too, you know, once I tell them. I’m just not exactly sure,” Hiyori babbled just like her not-yet-fiance, looking all around. Yukine resisted the urge to roll his eyes- he stopped doing that to her ages ago- and he refused to rush her.

“It’s okay,” Yukine offered a smile, “I’m sure whatever the thing is, Yato will love it. You know how sappy he is, he’ll love it cause it comes from you and you mean it.”

“Haha, yeah,” she didn’t sound too convinced and Yukine worried about why.

“I mean it, he will.” Yukine tried again. This time, Hiyori seemed to get rather bleary eyed and she hugged herself.

“Maybe not this time, Yukine, I’m just not sure. I mean we talked about it but it’s too soon and- who knows- maybe he won’t?” She continued looking around the room, biting her lip. Yukine was still an awkward sort of a teen and not very good with crying young women so all he could think to do was squeeze her hands.

“Don’t say that, Hiyori, there’s nothing on this earth that he-”

“I’m pregnant.” Her confession rang throughout the empty bathroom, echoing against the tiles and Yukine’s ribs. The boy’s mouth clicked shut as all those images he’d imagined, with Yato fawning over another child that was actually his, flooded in. When Hiyori sniffed again, the pictures shattered, leaving a frightened young woman holding her stomach.

“Yukine, I’m pregnant,” she repeated. Swallowing Yukine let his hands lightly rub her arms up and down.

“That’s,” he breathed, “amazing.” The honest wonderment he felt bleed through his voice and Hiyori looked up at him, eyes shining with pure hope.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Yukine promised. They deserved to be happy and experience having a baby and raising them with all the love and care they gave Yukine. After all, they already saved his life. What more can he ask of them? Once again he found himself blinking away the moisture in his eyes, Hiyori trying to do the same.

“But, what about Yato? Do you think he’ll,” Hiyori bit her lip and Yukine struggled to find the words and push away any jealousy he felt. Of course he wanted to be Yato’s one and only, for the man to never have kids of his own cause he had Yukine. But that was as selfish as it was stupid. Yato had a lot of love and Yukine knew he was no different than a son to him. Yato would never abandon him for something he deemed better and Yukine would be there to support him. Both of them.

“He will absolutely love them,” Yukine assured her, letting out a dry sob, “he’ll make the best dad.”

“Well, hehe, I think he already does?” Hiyori wiped under her eyes and Yukine found himself laughing.

“That’s right!” Yukine said, joyfully, “he’s the best.”

“Yeah, he is. The best I could ask for,” she murmured happily. The room was considerably warmer, lighter as Hiyori set her palms gently over her abdomen with a soft smile.

“Now I just have to tell him,” Hiyori said, “and my parents.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy too,” Yukine sighed as he leaned against the door, “you haven’t told them yet?”

“No, they’re old fashioned and I would rather tell Yato first. So you can’t tell anyone!” Hiyori suddenly stepped forward with pleading eyes.

“Huh?”

“It’s a surprise! I want to tell him on our anniversary but I really need you to be there as support, so you can’t say anything, okay?  Promise me you’ll keep it a secret!” She begged. Yukine gave his answer before he could think, not realizing until later what it would entail.

“I-I will! I’ll be there! And I promise I won’t say anything!”

The anniversary dinner reservation was booked at the restaurant Yato took Hiyori to on their very first date. It stood on the corner of an annual festival that followed the date and where Yato often took them every year since. In the car ride, various levels of anxious excitement is so palpable one of them could cut it with a knife. The excitement mostly came from the two adults in the front seat. Yukine, who sat behind Hiyori, was the majority of the anxiousness. Both hands were stuffed firmly in his jacket, balled up in his right hand was a little box protecting a diamond ring, his left was gently pinching the image of an ultrasound. He kept trying to rip his hands out of his pockets, worried about the cold sweat ruining such valuable commodities.

“So Yukine, are you excited about the festival?” Yato peaked at him through the rear-view mirror, smiling gleefully. It was unclear if his dad noticed Yukine’s flinch, but he quickly shoved his hands tight in his pockets and tried a smile.

“Y-yeah!” His voice cracked and Yato let out an awkward laugh. In the passenger seat, Hiyori turned around to look at him with an equally wobbly smile and a nod.

“We’re glad you can come with us to dinner this time,” she said, “right Yato?”

“Sure are! Soon you’ll be too old for us to force you to come on our dates!” Yato laughed. Even with the implication, the air in the car was considerably lighter. Yukine found himself laughing too, secretly knowing that there would never come a day he would need to be forced. While anniversary dinners were different, dinners with your parents hopefully lasted forever.

“Yato!” Hiyori chided through her giggles, giving him a good whack on the arm. The family continued to snicker as Yato pulled into a parking spot. He ran around the car to open the door for his beloved, taking her hand and helping her out. Yukine’s amusement sank like a rock when both the adults gave him a pointed look and a nod, he was reminded of what was to come. Giving his name, Yato could barely contain his excitement as the waitress brought them to a raised booth in the back.

“Yato,” Hiyori said with a light gasp. It was unclear if she noticed that this booth was the only one with fake roses strung up along the back but Hiyori wore a look of awe as she sat down on the other side of the candle.

“Two years,” he sang in reply.

“Yukine, you can take off your coat,” Hiyori suggested.

“N-nah that’s okay!” Yukine said. Both of them must have understood the implication because neither of them pressed it. They took a glance at the menu and eventually, the waiter came to take their orders, offering the most expensive bottle of champagne that Yato had already paid for.

“Oh, uh, no thank you, I’ll just have water, please,” Hiyori asked as she shut the menu and handed it to him. Yukine watched the waiter flash Yato a lost look who just nodded as he handed his own menu.

“I’ll have a colosi,” Yato said. The meal picked up quickly after that, the three of them ordering good dishes. Shortly after they started to dig in, the violinist Yato had called from college- a man with glasses named Kazuma- came over and began to play.

“Mmm!” Hiyori slurped down her pasta, “this is our song!”

“Hmm?” Yato cocked his head.

“Our song! You know, the one they played at the after party for the art exhibit? Our first dance,” Hiyori said. She ducked her head, looking suitably embarrassed until Yato hummed.

“I remember! Of course I do,” Yato smiled, “best night of my life.” Love in the air, they finished their meal, sharing a dessert Yato treated Yukine too. Once the dinner was complete, Yato distracted Hiyori long enough for Yukine to run and give Kazuma a tip and the next phase. Then Yukine jogged after them, the three of them walking out into the festival. Hiyori, rather obviously, tugged Yato off to the right. The woman on track to being a doctor was clever enough to know her romantic boyfriend would be taking them to the spot of their first kiss. Of course he did that every year, but Hiyori hoped being in such a nostalgic place would help the news to be received more positively.

Still, the two of them put a lot of effort into making sure Yukine felt included. Part of him thought this was just done out of gratitude for his help, but they’ve taken him here more than enough times for Yukine to understand they just wanted him to have fun too. Of course, this was still part of Yato’s extremely detailed plan. A handful of the game stands held certain prizes that Yato planted for the proposal. So far, Yato carried a hand-made scarf that mimicked something Hiyori used to wear while they were dating, a small wooden house that was used in sketch class, a box of sparklers, and binoculars. Currently, Hiyori was selecting another prize Yato and Yukine won for her by playing darts. Based on Yato’s instructions, the man offered Hiyori the prize box of fake jewelry, one of which was real and hand made. Knowing her, she would notice the pink-flowered charm and select it.

“I’ll have to go back for that bottle,” Yato sighed as he watched his love look over the options.

“I can go back and put it in the car,” offered Yukine.

“No, no, no, I need you here with me,” his dad looked at him, “I can’t do this without you.” He sounded confident but his eyes were so scared that Yukine couldn’t help but nod. Yukine had made a promise to himself some time ago that he would protect this eccentric, kind-hearted man that saved his life, from others who would try to take advantage of him or go out of their way to hurt him. Just like Yukine once did.

“I have tissues in case she says no and I put the ice cream in the freezer for you.”

“Haha! That’s my boy,” Yato let his fingers noogie Yukine’s hair and they laughed. The moment of truth was upon them. As Hiyori came back to them, showing off her new bracelet with the claim that it was something Yato would make for her. They walked to the edge of the street, the overview circling out over the park with a fence and benches. Yato handed the house and sparklers to Yukine, wrapping the light scarf around Hiyori’s neck. The fireworks would start in exactly seven minutes and Yukine still had both objects in his pockets.

“Yato,” Hiyori suddenly said, “I need to talk to you.” She looked at Yukine who stared back at her with wide eyes.

“What is it? We can talk here, you know,” Yato tried to get Hiyori to come towards the railing, but she remained firmly where she was.

“I just decided that I want,” she looked around, “some cotton candy!” Hiyori frantically pointed towards one of the mini carts.

“Wha-? Right now?” Yato’s shock and fear cracked his voice but he quickly tried to cover it with a laugh.

“How about after the fireworks? They’re going to start soon and you know how much I like-”

“Please Yato?” Hiyori put her hands together and cocked her head. From the middle of them, Yukine sucked air through his teeth and looked at Yato. Those were the big guns, Yato rarely said no to begging.

“Uh, um, okay, Hiyori. One-one sec!” Yato started towards the treats, “come on, Yukine!”

“No, no! That’s okay! Yukine can stay with me!” Hiyori insisted. She smiled when Yato just sputtered then ran off to retrieve the sweets.

“Okay, give it to me,” she frantically hushed.

“You’re going to do it now?” Yukine gave a quieted exclamation.

“I have to! I can’t let this continue without him knowing!” Hands shaking, Yukine handed the ultrasound to Hiyori who stuffed it under the top layer of her shirt against her spine. Once glance at the clock told Yukine there was four minutes until the fireworks would light up the sky and Kazuma would light the sparklers next to the matching mini wooden house just below them.

“Okay! Okay, here!” Yato ran back to them, “here you go, Hiyori!” He handed her a pink mass of sugar, shoving it in her face.

“Wha-! Yato!” Hiyori sputtered. As she struggled to get the sugary treat out of her face, Yato dove his hand in Yukine’s pocket and plucked out the ring.

“Heheh, sorry,” Yato said as he stuffed it into his pocket, “I tripped?” he offered as she moved the candy out of her face. As Yato smiled awkwardly at Hiyori’s narrowed eyes, the first firework of the night boomed in the sky. Slack-Jawed, the three of them looked up at the sky, then back at each other.

“Ah! It started!” Yukine gasped.

“Let’s go get a closer look Hiyori-”

“Yato, I have something for you!”

“I have something for you too, but, uh, it’s over here. So let’s go over here!” Yato was quicker, and louder, than Hiyori and managed to grab her wrist and pull her towards the railing. Deciding that his job was done- and that he didn’t want to really get caught in whatever was about to happen- Yukine chose to stay a couple feet back.

“Yato, I- '' Hiyori's words were caught with a gasp as she looked over the railing. On the stone patio that surrounded the park were a bunch of pigeons eating the seeds Yato had Kazuma put down just as they left the restaurant. Feeding pigeons was something Yato did a lot in college and one of the places Hiyori would find him sketching before they started dating.

“Look at them all!” She gasped at the massive heart made purely out of hungry pigeons. In the center of the feathered shape was a small note, leaning on the matching mini home, with fancy calligraphy made clear by the sparklers that were stuck on either side.

“Is that a note?” Hiyori squinted, “I wonder what it says.” She looked at Yato when he cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you use your binoculars?” He offered them. Hiyori didn’t seem to think much of it, taking them and leaning over the railing.

“It says ‘Will You Marry Me?�� Aw I wonder who that’s- for?” Hiyori’s sentence fell off her lips, drifting through the wind as she lowered the binoculars and turned her head. Yukine watched her eyes drop to Yato on his knee, who was gently holding up the box and the ring. When she gasped, eyes growing wide, he nudged the box up higher and cocked his head with a forced smile.

“Will you?” he asked. It took a moment but Hiyori finally moved, closing her mouth and blinking rapidly.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Really?” Yato sprang up with a gigawatt smile, Hiyori laughing at him.

“Yes! Yes!” She professed, bouncing up and down with Yato. Quickly putting the binoculars around her neck, Hiyori quickly grabbed Yato’s face and they joined in a passionate kiss. From his spot, Yukine found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping with the few people surrounding them. Through their love-sick laughter, and Hiyori’s many kisses, Yato took her hand and raised her to the ring. Before the rock could slip onto her finger, Hiyori jolted, finger freezing.

“What is it?” Questioned Yato, terrified at the way she took her hand back.

“Before you give me the ring, I want to give you my thing,” Hiyori said. Her weak words were slightly drowned out by the fireworks display and chatter of the audience but Yato just nodded with tight lips. Eyes downcast, Hiyori’s fingers slipped under her shirt. Then, she handed the ultrasound to Yato who blinked at once before he gently took it. Yukine watched him stare at it, almost incomprehensibly, for a little longer than necessary. Yato blinked again, turned it around and blinked once more. Adam’s apple bobbing, Yukine watched Yato’s lips say something that was too quiet to hear. Hiyori nodded, a jolting movement, trying to force a smile around her wet eyes. This was it, Yukine thought, they were a little family; a mother and her future husband. Yato was a husband, a father, a man of the house. Yukine’s clapping hands stopped and gripped his shorts.

Yato suddenly got his breath of life back, his head jolted up and he looked to Hiyori with an open jaw. He couldn’t force it close until he tackled her into a hug, holding her head and waist so close, like she was the only thing keeping him standing. Whatever Yato said convinced Hiyori it was time to slip the engagement ring on her finger as they squeezed each other tight. Their laughter sounded again, overshadowed by the fireworks and sounding considerably more breathless than before. Lit up by the dancing colors, Yukine watched them alternate between laughing, talking, kissing, and pointing at the objects in their hands. Just as Yukine’s happiness was starting to be completely overshadowed with loneliness and isolation, he watched both of them point at their gifts then turn and face the blonde.

“Yukine!” They cheerfully called his name, arms open to welcome him into their hug. Heart leaping for joy into his throat, Yukine ran forward without a thought. By the time their arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly against their bodies, Yukine’s wet laughter was bubbling out of his chest.

“Yukine! You double player you!” Yato exulted.

“You did such a good job!” Hiyori complimented with tears, “thank you so much!” The family gave another tight hug before pulling away.

“We really couldn’t have done it without you,” Yato sighed. He kept his arms around their shoulders, holding the ultrasound up against the sky, the three watched the final colors of the fireworks illuminate the tiny bundle of life that would be greeting them soon. As the final boom pounded against their beating hearts, Yato finally gave it back to his fiance.

“I’m glad it all worked out,” Yukine said, mostly to himself.

“Are you sure?” Yato asked him.

“Huh?”

“We just want to make sure that you’re okay with all this,” Hiyori started, “we know this is a lot and we just want to hear your thoughts about all this.” She gestured to everything but when Yukine gave them a blank look, Yato put his hands on Yukine’s head.

“Our family is getting a little bigger, are you happy?” He asked softly. Warmth spread throughout Yukine, building in his heart and fanning the heat behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Yukine breathed, “I’m happy.” He blinked and let out a hum of a laugh as Yato and Hiyori smiled at each other.

“That’s great because we have something for you too,” Yato grinned.

“For me?” Yukine blinked. What could it be? What more could they possibly give him?

“Yes, a surprise for you too! Mostly from me to you,” Hiyori offered. When she looked at Yato, smile matching his, the three separated and Yato lifted his top shirt to reveal a folded packet. He handed it to Hiyori who handed it to Yukine with a shy smile.

“If you want,” she tacked on. Yukine kept his eyes on her as he unfolded the paperwork, already knowing what it was before he looked it at. It was so familiar, nearly identical to the one Yato gave him so long ago, the one that now sat in a protective folder in Yukine’s bedroom.

“You want to? Adopt me?” Yukine asked. He squeezed the papers tightly against his chest. Unable to say anything more, Hiyori pressed her trembling lips together and gave a short nod, a couple tears falling from her eyes. He was back in her arms just as she opened them, sniffing against her collar bone.

“Is that okay? Will you have me, Yukine?” She tearfully asked as she brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

“Yes,” Yukine cried, “I’d love that. So much.” He had a mom now. Not that woman that gave birth to him, a real mother figure that loved and cared for him and his dad properly. He had parents.

“See?” Yato sniffed, “I told you he would gladly welcome you into the family!” He tried wiping the tears from his cheeks but it hardly made a difference.

“The family?” Yukine repeated, feeling the word on his tongue.

“Of course! Can’t be a family without you, kiddo!” Yato insisted. He pulled them back into a hug, each of the gifts to each other- sealing their love and connection- squishing under the force of their laughter. They came together in a rather unconventional way, and they were nothing Yukine imagined for himself, yet they were everything he could ask for.

His parents.

His family.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

For the love of vocab cards.

Soo... another story written for @analogicalweek :D This is for day 5, prompt: Vocab cards. This again is a bit longer than my previous ones, but hopefully it’s worth it!

This is another College AU, Logan helps Virgil revise for an exam and leaves him a surpise to get through it on the day :) Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @edupunkn00b @jwillowwolf @look-ma-im-on-tv @kacklingisanart :) If anyone would like to be added, let me know! :D

For the love of vocab cards.

Word count: 1765

No warnings that I’m aware of :)

Virgil sat in an abandoned corner of the college library, just reading a textbook and finishing his third book of notes. He was desperately trying to revise for this exam tomorrow, but after four hours; his brain had reached its capacity of trying to retain information. It didn’t help that it was for a science exam and he hated that subject with a passion. There were too many long words with complicated meanings that he could never remember. He also just about understood equations when it came to math, but he had no idea how to apply them to science. Virgil belonged within the Performing Arts side of college, he loved music technology in particular and he loved creating all kinds of new music with the different pieces of equipment littered throughout the department. However, if he wanted to get onto next year’s course in Music Tech, he still had to pass the core subjects of math, english and science. Despite his unbridled hatred for the subject, he couldn’t help but smile whenever he remembered that he met Logan, his boyfriend of nearly two years, in the science labs.

It was the first day of class. They were assigned seats next to each other, and despite Virgil’s anxiety telling him otherwise, they seemed to get on extremely well. Logan was wearing a button up shirt, tailored trousers and large framed glasses, and Virgil had to admit that the ensemble looked amazing on him. Whereas Virgil was in his classic purple shirt, purple patchwork jacket and ripped jeans. They could not have looked like total opposites if they tried. Eventually the teacher started the class and was monotonously trying to explain the more complex concepts of the Periodic Table. Logan must have noticed just how confused Virgil was because he began to write something down on some blank vocabulary cards, all while Virgil stared at the whiteboard helplessly. After a while, Logan tapped Virgil lightly on the shoulder and he jumped. When he looked down at Logan’s hands, he was surprised at what he saw. It was a set of about ten vocabulary cards, and as Virgil took them and looked through them all, he could see that Logan had written out everything the teacher was explaining. However, Logan’s explanation was actually comprehensible, and Virgil genuinely started to understand the work they had been given. He looked at Logan who had a small but sincere smile on his face, and Virgil almost lost his words as he stared into Logan’s eyes. He managed to shyly utter a thank you to Logan while blushing an extremely bright shade of pink. Logan smiled back before turning his attention to the work before the teacher could inevitably come over and have a go at them. That’s where everything started.

Virgil was snapped out of this trip down memory lane by two hands covering his eyes. The familiar scent of aftershave and coffee reassured him about who was standing behind him. Their identity was confirmed with the light kiss on Virgil’s neck and a soft voice saying “Guess who? My Storm Cloud.” Virgil smiled and removed the hands gently from over his eyes.

“I couldn’t hazard a guess, Pocket Protector.” He turned and stood up to give Logan a much-needed hug for them both. He forgot that he said they’d meet after Logan had finished his extra revision session for the same exam. That was the only reassuring thing… they wouldn’t be able to talk or anything, but at least they’d be in the same room tomorrow.

Logan chuckled as he hid his face in Virgil’s neck. “How’s the revision going? Have you taken a break at all?”

“Horribly… I’ve been here for four hours and I still don’t understand a single word that I’m writing down. My brain is not absorbing any of this.” He sighed and was on the verge of crying. “What’s the point of me trying, Lo? I just need to accept that I won’t pass tomorrow.” He couldn’t stop a tear running down his cheek as he thought about how important tomorrow was. Logan closed the space between them, and softly wiped the tear off Virgil’s face. He lifted his chin up, making sure Virgil was looking into his eyes.

“Now you listen to me, Starlight. You are much smarter than you think, and you are stronger than you know. The main reason you’re struggling to remember things right now is because you’re stressed. You’ve cooped yourself into a small corner of this extremely large space and haven’t taken a break for a significant period of time. Let’s sit here and watch something while you drink this coffee I got you. I’ve finished my revision for this exam, so I’ll help you sort out some vocabulary cards for you to take in tomorrow before we go home. Sound good?” Logan looked at the smile starting to form on Virgil’s face and knew that he was okay. Virgil nodded as they sat down, and he snuggled up against a nearby wall with his coffee and took a sip while waiting for Logan.

“Ahh, you know my coffee order?” Virgil asked in a flirty voice as Logan set up his laptop and put on an episode of Parks and Rec. “Of course I do.” In a voice that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

As they watched the episode, Logan ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair and kissed his forehead at random intervals because he loved how Virgil smiled every single time. When the coffee was finished, Logan got up and pulled over a chair to the table so they could finish the last bit of Virgil’s revision. They worked for an hour and Virgil felt more confident when he could answer the questions Logan asked him, that made him feel so much better.

“Alright, do you want to go now? I think we’ve covered everything. No more revising for you today, you’ve done more than enough!” Logan started to pack up Virgil’s things and Virgil looked relieved to be leaving.

“Yes please! I don’t think I could do anymore if I tried anyway. I really owe you for this, love. Let me go put these extra books away, I’ll be back in a minute.” He smiled and quickly kissed Logan before taking the books back to the shelves.

“Tell you what, write a song for me on your crazy music gadgets and we’ll call it even, okay?” Logan called out after Virgil as he walked away.

“You have a deal!” Virgil called back. He smiled and waited until Virgil was completely out of sight before grabbing some blank vocabulary cards and wrote on them furiously. He attached them to Virgil’s exam ones and put them into his bag just before he came back around the corner. Virgil stared at his boyfriend with a playful glare, knowing something suspicious had just happened, but then laughed before leaving the library hand in hand with his boyfriend going to Logan’s car.

They pulled up outside Virgil’s house, he grabbed his bag and Logan walked with him to the door. “Alright, so keep everything in your bag so it’s all in there for tomorrow. Get some food and watch something funny okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He kissed Virgil gently, “I love you.” He turned to walk to the car, but Virgil pulled him back to kiss him again.

“I love you too! Thank you for today. I promise the song I’ll write for you will be the best one yet.” They both smiled and Logan reluctantly pulled away to head home. He still had some revision to do after all.

Morning came all too quickly. Virgil was feeling incredibly nervous as predicted, but he managed to have some breakfast and waited at the front door for Logan to arrive. He saw the car pull up and Logan beeped the horn twice as he normally did. He got out of the car and waited for Virgil to run up for their morning hug. He spun him around a couple of times which made Virgil laugh and kissed him.

“Are you ready to go? Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” Logan said with the most reassuring smile that made Virgil feel safe and secure.

“Yup. Might as well get this over and done with!” He smiled and got into the car. They turned the music up and sang along at the top of their lungs. Virgil would never admit that singing along to cheesy pop songs was his ultimate way to calm down.

They got to college and signed in before sorting their things and heading towards the exam room. Logan gave him a quick hug and they walked into the room together before finding their seats. They both looked amused when they realized that they were sitting next to each other, one row apart. Virgil took the opportunity to look the vocabulary cards over before they were allowed to start. He looked puzzled when he came across some that definitely weren’t there yesterday. His heart swelled when he read them one after the other.

‘You are amazing.’ ‘You are the smartest, most talented person I’ve ever met.’ ‘You can do absolutely anything the world throws at you. I know you can.’ ‘I’m so proud of you.’ ‘I love you to the ends of the unknown universe and back.’

 Virgil couldn’t hide his smile as he held the cards as close to his heart as possible. He turned to Logan who had clearly been watching him the entire time. He mouthed thank you at Logan, who winked in response. Just like that, they announced the start of the exam and Virgil immediately felt like he could do this. They both sneaked loving glances at each other throughout, a silent and unnoticeable gesture of encouragement. Then it was all over, and the relief was almost overwhelming.

When the results came through a few weeks later… Virgil was ecstatic to know that he passed, and unsurprised that Logan got full marks. He knew that without those vocabulary cards Logan made, he would never have believed in himself enough to do everything he could to pass the crucial test. Despite being complete opposites when they met, Virgil knew that now they were two halves of the same coin, they completed each other perfectly. There was only one thing left to do now…

He had one hell of a song to write for the one and only love of his life.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Cup of Something Better

Ch 10: Down to the Wire

This was it, the week that had been two years in the making, his last finals week as a gen ed student. Assuming he passed all his tests, he would be able to take the nurses exam the following Friday. If he passed that he be enrolled into the nursing program for the fall semester. Five tests over three days, not the worst test load that he'd dealt with. The fact that they were between five and eleven at night was a pain in the ass.

He'd asked for the week off from the cafe so he could have more time to study. Some of the time he spent studying was also spent at the cafe, he preferred the idle chatter over the silence of his apartment.

Connor was spending the morning at the cafe again, going over calculus today. He had an Iced Americano that was helping to keep him concentrated. He'd had a few late nights that he was beginning to feel the effects of. His first set of tests was tonight, calculus and art history. Tomorrow was biology and mythology. The day after being his sociology final. Hank thankfully didn't have a final for his class so Connor had a chance to recuperate before his nurses exam.

He finished the problem he was working on and sat back rubbing at his face to try and wake up more. He needed to focus. He took another drink of his coffee and looked around the cafe, it was almost empty. As one would expect at ten in the morning on a Monday. He finished his coffee and figured he could use the break to order another drink. Hopefully he'd be more awake afterward.

He headed for the counter and ordered his usual before heading back to the table. Refueled and somewhat ready to go again, he sat back down and got back to work.

Connor woke up sometime later to North knocking on the table. He looked up to find that it wasn’t North, but Hank, though the red haired she-devil was behind the counter laughing.

“So, uh, North asked me to bring you this.” Hank said after a moment, setting the bigger of the two cups on the table, “she also said that knocking on the table would wake you up.”

“Thanks.” Connor took the cup and yawned, “you can sit down if you want. I’m just studying.”

Hank chuckled as he took a seat, “planning on learning through osmosis? I was lead to believe you had to be awake in order to study properly.”

Connor rolled his eyes as he took a drink from what turned out to be a large cup filled with just espresso shots, “I’ll do whatever works at this point.” He covered a yawn and leaned forward, “how do you like having the week off? Getting any writing done?”

Hank laughed as Connor got back to work on his calculus, “I’ve gotten a couple of chapters into my manuscript and started a couple of short stories.”

Connor took another drink from his cup, “you’re planning to release another collection then?” He yawned, “how is Sumo doing?”

When Connor looked up Hank was looking at him with a concerned expression. HIs brow was furrowed and his sky blue eyes were clouded over with worry. Connor knew that he looked rough but he was pretty sure he wasn’t bad enough to warrant that level of concern.

“Sumo is doing fine.” Hank leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, “can you answer something for me Connor?”

“Hmm?” Connor sat up from where he had been slouching into his textbook again, “what’s up?”

“How many days has it been since you’ve gotten a full night’s rest?” Hank watched as he took another drink of his ‘coffee’.

“Today is Monday so...” He counted back on his fingers, muttering the days of the week under his breath, “Saturday, I think. Why?”

Hank sighed, and the sound was pure disappointment, something that if it hadn’t been directed at Connor would have impressed him, “Since you’re the one of us going into nursing, I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s wrong with that Connor. Do me a favor and get some rest. You can’t keep going like this.”

“I sleep two hours before classes. I’ve increased my calorie intake and added more caffeine into the mix as well.” He stumbled over his words as he yawned again, “five hour energy and espresso have been life savers for me.”

“Connor.” Hank groaned, “I was in college too, so I can’t argue with you, but try and get at least get four hours today alright?” He put a hand up when Connor opened his mouth to argue, “I know your nurses exam is important to you Con, but what happens if you burn out before then? You’ll have to wait a whole semester to take it again.”

In theory Connor knew him to be correct, but he had so many tests and he wanted to make sure that he was ready, “I just don’t want to fail Hank, if I can’t pass these then I won’t even be taking the nurses exam.”

Connor could feel tears pooling behind his eyes from the lack of sleep as well as the stress. The nickname made Connor give a watery smile as he rubbed at his face trying to collect himself.

“Hey now, don’t cry.” Hank reached out and squeezed his wrist reassuringly, “I’ve gotten to see you at work Con, you’ve got these tests in the bag. Go home, get some rest.”

Connor let out a wet laugh and wiped his eyes with his free hand. After another reassuring squeeze Hank let go of his wrist and Connor began packing up his things and putting them back in his bag not quite managing to bite back another yawn. He was starting to think no amount of coffee was gonna help this. With everything packed he sat back and rubbed at his face again hoping to wake up a little more.

“Alright.” Connor said before he drank more of his coffee, “time to go home and nap I guess. Sorry you had to wake me.”

Hank chuckled, “Its no problem. Do you need a ride? The weather looks like its going to take a turn for the worse.”

Connor looked out the windows and despite it being early afternoon apparently, the sky was almost black and the wind was howling through the streets, “thanks, but I’ll just get a cab.”

Hank nodded and stood. They walked out together and parted ways at the parking lot with a wave. Connor hailed a cab and checked his phone which had been vibrating consistently since Hank had stood up. There were several new messages in the coffee shop group chat, probably because he had been crying.

The Coffee Crew:

Northern_Lights: Aww, you two are so cute together

Northern_Lights: Why are you crying?

Northern_Lights: Is it his fault? I’ll kick his ass if I have to

Northern_Lights: Holding hands?

Northern_Lights: You’re good then?

Northern_Lights: Connor?

RunawayArkait: North, everything is fine.

SimonSays: Are you sure? We saw you cry

RunawayArkait: I haven’t been sleeping and the stress from finals got to me

RunawayArkait: Hank kind of gave me a pep talk is all

SimonSays: Aww his name is Hank, that’s fitting

Northern_Lights: That had better been all. Or I will fight him.

RunawayArkait: It’s fine North. I’m gonna get some sleep then get to class

Northern_Lights: Sleep well

SimonSays: You got this!

Connor smiled at his phone as he paid and got out of the cab. He walked up to his apartment and set an alarm for a half hour before he needed to leave. He set his backpack by the door and went to change into pyjamas. Connor was still fighting off the embarrassment from having cried in front of Hank, if he needed to sleep anything off it was that. Hank probably found him to be weak and pathetic for having cried ever a few tests. Whatever chance, if he’d even had one, was gone.

He sighed and rubbed at his face again and climbed into bed, double checking that his alarm was on and also at full volume. He plugged his phone in and rolled over falling asleep almost instantly. When his alarm went off he hadn’t moved. The song blared to life yanking Connor violently back into consciousness. He groaned, sat up, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes He turned off the alarm and checked his phone. He had quite a few messages.

The Family Feud:

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ve got this Connor!

UnluckyNine: You’ll be a nurse in no time

RunawayArkait: Thank you

The Coffee Crew:

Northern_Lights: Good luck college boy!

SimonSays: Don’t worry alright? You’re a genius

What.Josh.Does: See you in calculus. Who ever scores the lowest buys drinks on Friday

RunawayArkait: Thanks guys. You’re on Josh.

Made-By_Markus messaged you!

Made-By_Markus: Good luck Connor!

RunawayArkait: Thank you Markus.

Connor dressed in his day clothes again and made a pot of coffee. Travel mug filled, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. He pulled up his hood as he got to the parking lot since the storm picked up since his nap. He walked toward the road and caught a cab to head to the university. On the ride over he pulled out the notes he had taken for his calculus class and got in some last minute studying.

He arrived early and made his way to the Math and Science building. Josh was waiting at one of the hallway tables and waved Connor over. There were two paper Hand Brewed Hope cups on the table, when Connor took his seat Josh slid one over to him.

“Figured you could use the pick me up.” Connor took a drink of what turned out to be Chai Tea with cinnamon and nutmeg as Josh spoke, “I know finals week is rough on you.”

Connor gave a dry chuckle, “It’s just stressful, and even more than usual this time because of the nurses exam.” He sighed softly, “You had tow tests earlier today. How do you think you did?”

He was distracting himself, but thankfully Josh let him, “Good. I was more confident for my philosophy exam than I was for chemistry, but it is what it is. Once I finish this up I’ll get to move on to student teaching. Which I’m looking forward to.”

Connor smiled, Josh was excited to becoming a teacher. He was going to be missed at the cafe but he would have more fun as a teacher, “You’ll be great at it. Those kids are going to adore you.”

Josh beamed at him and Connor took another drink from his tea, “I’m gonna miss the cafe though.”

“We’re gonna miss you too.” Connor said kindly, “I’m sorry that I can’t join you guys this weekend but I’m going to be getting ready for my nurses exam.”

“It’s alright Connor. We know how much this means to you, so no one is holding it against you.” Josh responded with a gentle smile.

When it came time to, they grabbed their things and headed for class. Josh gave Connor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he headed for his seat at the back of the class.  Connor headed for his as well, letting out a shaky sigh. He had an ‘A’ in this class, he could handle one last test. Probably.

The two hour test block seemed to crawl by. He fell into routine, solving the problems as he went and then checking them over when he had finished. Then, just to be sure, he checked them again. With a half hour left in the test block he grabbed his things, turned in his completed exam, and made his way to building one to study for his art history final. Having found a bench to sit at and go over his notes, he sent a few messages.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Calculus is done, just Art History left

RunawayArkait: Just finished calculus

UnluckyNine: Good job! You’ve got this one in the bag too

Sixty-Second-Set: Look at you go!

SimonSays: Bet you nailed it

Northern_Lights: Nicely done, you beat Josh

_

RunawayArkait: Calculus is done

Made-By_Markus: Congratulations Connor!

Connor was smiling as he put his phone away as he put his phone away and began to study, wanting to be as prepared as possible for the final. He packed up when the door to the lecture hall opened. When the class had emptied he took his seat and got ready for his exam.

This two hour block went by a little. Though that was probably because he had the confidence of having finished one already. When he finished this one he could go home and sleep for a couple hours before he got back to studying. This final took him a little longer but he finished it with ten minutes to spare. If he napped in the cab he could spend even more time studying. He probably wouldn’t though, he hated sleeping in cars. He sent messages as he headed out.

The Family Feud: 

RunawayArkait: Done for the night

UnluckyNine: Nice. Now you can get some rest

The Coffee Crew:

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ll be a nurse in no time

_

RunawayArkait: First day of finals is over

What.Josh.Does: Congrats! Meet me at building 27 and I’ll give you a ride home

SimonSays: Three more to go, you’ve got this

Northern_Lights: You’re doing great

@Made-By_Markus

RunawayArkait: Thanks. I’ll be there soon Josh

_

RunawayArkait: One night down, two to go

Made-By_Markus: Don’t forget to get some rest.

Tuesday morning found him back at the cafe, is biology textbook as well as the semester’s notes spread over the table. He’d been at this since about midnight; rotating between biology, mythology, sociology, and subjects that would be covered on the nurses exam. His travel mug still had some coffee in it so he hadn’t bought a drink yet and he also had a couple of five hour energy shots in his bag if needed them. He figured he would, because despite the extra sleep he had gotten yesterday, Connor could still feel exhaustion hanging off of him.

After a couple hours he switched from biology to mythology when his concentration started to wane. When that didn’t work he grabbed a five hour energy bottle and got in line to order. He tossed the bottle between his hands without looking at it, occasionally tossing it straight up only to catch it and start the cycle over again. He had put it back in his university sweatshirt pocket by the time it was his turn to order. He was ordering a drink that North had made up that wasn’t on the menu, so he said it out loud.

“I’ll take a large Due North, Simon.” Connor said around a yawn and Simon looked at him with concern.

“You do know that drink is basically just straight espresso with a couple pumps of chocolate syrup right?” Simon was typing the drink in anyway, “with how much coffee you drink in a day, I’m worried you might vibrate out of existence.” 

“I’ll be fine Simon,” Connor said as he paid for his drink, “I just need a little extra help staying awake today is all.”

“If you’re sure Connor,” Simon said as he handed the cup off to Josh who looked at it with worry.

While he stood in the crowd to wait out his drink he got out his lucky quarter and began to toss it between his hands. He would stop and roll it over is knuckles, toss it straight up, catch it and then start over. On the third pass his drink was called, he pocketed the coin as he walked up to the counter. He thanked Josh and took his drink. When he got back to the table he took the lid off of the cup and added the energy shot, stirring it with the straw so it would mix in. He put the lid on and took a drink when he finished. If the sheer amount of caffeine didn’t keep him awake, the taste probably would.

Connor was surprised that he actually finished the monstrosity that North had created. He’d moved on from mythology to sociology, and despite all of the caffeine pumping through his body, he could still feel himself fading. He knew he couldn’t go up for another coffee so soon after pumping so much espresso into himself, Simon wouldn’t let him. So he would just have to tough it out. He leaned more into his notes, resting his arms on the table.

He woke up to talking, “North, why are you drawing on him?”

“Because, he fell asleep and he knows the rules.” Came North’s reply, and now that Connor was slightly more coherent, he could feel something moving against his face. He opened his eyes with a tired groan and whatever had been on his face was yanked away. North laughed, “Shit.”

“Morning Sunshine.” Hank said with an amused smile as Connor sat up, “how is your studying going? I can see you’re trying that learning by osmosis thing again.”

He gave Hank a tired smile as North laughed, “it seemed to work well enough yesterday.”

“Alright Point Dexter, go wash the dicks off your face. I’ll have another Due North for you when you get back out.” North said as she pulled Connor to his feet.

As Connor made his way to the bathroom to clean his face North retreated back behind the counter. He checked the mirror to find that, yes, North had actually drawn cartoon dicks of various sizes along the left side of his face and a detailed shooting star down the side of his neck, He wet a paper towel and started rubbing at his face, glad that they didn’t use permanent marker to write on the cups.

With all the marker washed off his face and neck Connor went back to the table to find Hank had settled in and gotten to work on his laptop. As promised there was another large Due North beside his sociology notes. He sat down and gave Hank a tired half smile.

“So why was North drawing on your face?” Hank asked as he looked up from his typing, “she said something about rules.”

“Yeah.” Connor laughed rubbing at the back of his neck, “the first time you fall asleep in public is a freebie, after that whoever catches you gets to draw on your face. Either she caught me, or Simon chickened out again.”

“So you fall asleep while out and about pretty often then?” Was Hank’s follow up as he watched Connor get out his biology textbook.

“Sometimes,” he said with a casual shrug, “usually during midterms or finals week when I spend most of my time studying.”

“Your nap yesterday was your freebie then?” Hank’s attention was returning to his work, as was Connor’s.

“Probably, or your timing saved me.” With that the conversation fell away to be replaced with the clicking of a keyboard and the occasional turning pf a page.

It was a few hours later when Hank stood, “I’m gonna go get another drink. Do you want anything?”

Connor looked up from his notes, “A Chai Tea please. Thank you Hank.”

“No problem kid.” He said as he headed for the counter.

Connor put his biology book away and got out what he needed for mythology. He had about two hours until he needed to leave for the university. Time to concentrate on his test subjects. He sat back and stretched, his back popped like a line of fire crackers since this was the first time he had moved in a few hours.

By the time Hank got back with the drinks, Connor was once again absorbed in his work and jumped when a paper cup came into his line of sight. Hank laughed as he sat down.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got tunnel vision Con?” He remarked with a laugh, “I called your name three times before I gave up.”

There was that nickname again and the bubbling warmth that came with it. Connor was fighting not to grin like an idiot when he spoke, “A few times. Sorry though, I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

Hank chuckled as he got back to work, “I get the same way when I work sometimes too. Don’t worry.”

“After tonight I’ll at least be getting my sleep schedule back,” Connor said as a way of making conversation, “I just have sociology tomorrow and then I can pace myself for the nurses exam.”

“North won’t be able to draw on your face anymore,” Hank laughed, “but honestly, I’m glad you’ll be catching up on your rest.”

“I’m honestly just looking forward to getting back to my normal work schedule.” Hank gaped at him.

“Connor, do you ever take time off?” He asked, worry lining his voice.

“Yeah. When I’m sick, for finals week, and whenever Silas has a performance that’s within travelling distance. Why?” Connor asked with a tilt of his head.

Hank shook his head, “Let me rephrase that. Do you ever take time off for yourself Connor?”

“Well no. But I don’t need to, I’m happy.”

Hank sighed and leaned forward resting his forearms on the table on either side of his laptop, “Connor are you working this weekend?”

“No. I have-”

“Great. You’re gonna meet me here at noon on Saturday. I’m going to bring you to my place and you’re gonna meet Sumo. One day, that’s all I’m asking.” Hank’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t going to be taking no as an answer.

“Alright.” Connor wouldn’t have turned down the offer anyway, not when it came to spending time to Hank.

With that taken care of, they both got back to work. Connor nearly jumped out of his skin when the alarm on his phone went off. From the looks of it, the sound had startled Hank  as well. Connor turned it off quickly and began packing his things.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said with an awkward laugh, “I’m gonna grab a drink for the road, Want me to get you anything?”

When he looked up, Hank was also getting his things together, “how about you get the drinks Saturday. I’ll join you in line though.”

Connor waited for Hank to finish getting his things together and then they joined the line. Now that he was standing, Connor stretched slightly to alleviate some of the stiffness in his back and let out a satisfied sigh when he finished.

“Do you have plans for the night Hank?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Go home, order take out and pend time with my dog.” He replied, “What about you?”

“Take my finals. Then when I get home check to see if I passed the ones I took yesterday and either order victory or pity pizza.” He responded which got a laugh out of Hank.

“How about this. Since I’m so certain it will be victory pizza, I’ll pay for it.”

“But you don’t have my number,” Connor said turning to face Hank.

“You’ll have to give it to me then, won’t you.” He said with a wink and Connor died. Or maybe he was already dead. Adding that energy shot to the Due North probably killed him and this was just a hallucination.

Hank tapped Connor’s shoulder to get his attention and he took the offered phone. He put his number in and set his contact as Connor :). He handed the phone back and by the time he got to the counter he felt his phone vibrate with a message, he could guess who it was from. Josh gave him a suspicious smile.

“Don’t even start.” Connor muttered, cutting him off, “a medium black coffee please.”

Josh put one hand up in mock surrender and used the other to put in the drink order. Connor paid and headed for the end counter, fighting a smile the whole way.

He checked his phone for new messages, and sure enough there were two from a new number.

3132480705: Hello

3132480705: This is Hank :)

Connor: Hello Hank :)

He added the other to his contact list under Hank <3, because he had a crush and couldn’t help himself. He put his phone back in his sweatshirt pocket as Hank joined the group at the end counter.

“So what tests are you taking tonight,” Hank asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner.

“Biology and then mythology. Tomorrow is sociology.” Connor pulled his phone out to double check his calendar, then put it away again, “then assuming I’ve passed those I’m scheduled to take my nurses exam next Friday.”

“It’s good that you gave yourself a week to study,” he said as Connor went up for his drink, when he came back Connor was wearing a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, didn’t plan it like this. The first testing block was full when I applied.” He waved at Hank as he stepped away, “anyway I’ve got to go. I can, um, text you updates if you want.”

“Sure. Good luck Con.” Hank said as Connor left the cafe.

As soon as he got a cab he texted the group chat which had been suspiciously quiet the whole time he had been with Hank.

The Coffee Crew: 

RunawayArkait: Hank gave me his number!

RunawayArkait: Also! I am meeting Sumo this weekend.

RunawayArkait: So, progress. I think?

What.Josh.Does: You have his number and you’re meeting his dog. Yet you’re still questioning if you made progress

Northern_Lights: Go get your man!

SimonSays: Be safe please

RunawayArkait: I mean, Saturday is more of a hostage situation

RunawayArkait: I don’t take enough time for myself apparently

Northern_Lights: Oh. So you’ll listen to him on that!

Northern_Lights: What does that make us?

RunawayArkait: Friends who I love dearly

What.Josh.Does: Well either way, congrats

SimonSays: Don’t forget to tell your brothers

RunawayArkait: Thanks

-

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Guess what?

Sixty-Second-Set: Your finals were cancelled!

UnluckyNine: You passed your exams?

RunawayArkait: Close, but no

RunawayArkait: Hank gave me his number

UnluckyNine: Nice

Sixty-Second-Set: It’s about fucking time

Sixty-Second-Set: If I had to hear you shine about him one more time I was going to pose as you and get it myself

RunawayArkait: Silas!

UnluckyNine: Just be glad it didn’t come to that

Connor rolled his eyes as the cab pulled up to the university. It shouldn’t surprise him that Silas would threaten him with something that extreme, in Silas’s opinion the more dramatic the even the better. Connor was glad it hadn’t needed to come to that, he knew Silas had meant it. He paid for the cab and made his way to building 27 for the last time this week.

He made his way to the second floor and took a seat at one of the hall tables. He took out his biology notes to go over them again before it was time for the test. He had half an hour, he wouldn’t get through everything but it was better than nothing. Science was a bit like math in that following a predetermined procedure would lead to one of a few results.

The half hour passed quickly since he was preoccupied, when students began leaving the lecture hall he began packing up his things. Just like his two previous finals, he didn’t feel like he was ready. He knew his grades by themselves were good enough to get him into the program, but the tests also came with a passing margin and he didn’t want to rely on his grades alone.

HIs  father had raised him and his brothers under the belief that it wouldn’t matter how hard they worked toward their goals since there would always be someone out there that could do it better. He had meant for it to encourage them to go to school and help with the business, but Connor had taken it to mean that he needed to be the one working the hardest to get where he wanted in life. Silas had done similarly albeit in a very different way, and Richard had worked to make himself as close to invisible as possible.

He was waiting outside the classroom for the last of the students to leave when his phone vibrated and pulled him from his thoughts. He pulled it out of his hoodie to put it on silent and saw a message from Hank. He had time, so he opened it.

Hank <3: You’ve got this kid

Connor: Thanks :)

Connor smiled and put his phone away. The room was finally empty and the professor allowed them to come in. He took his usual seat and took a moment to mentally prepare. He got drawn into the test into the test and what he needed of the two hour block flew by. He finished with fifteen minutes left after having gone over his answer just to be sure. He texted Hank first as he left the classroom.

Connor: One more then I’m done for the night

Hank <3: You’ll do great, don’t worry

Connor: :)

He waited until he was in building 1 to message everyone else. He sat in the second floor study area and took a break from his notes.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Just mythology left

UnluckyNine: That should be easy

Sixty-Second-Set: Hopefully there aren’t any essay questions.

-

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Last test for the night is mythology

SimonSays: You’ll be able to get some decent sleep tonight

What.Josh.Does: Good Luck

Northern_Lights: God I hated that class

He spent the hour before his mythology final studying for it. Working his way through all of the lecture and reading notes he had taken during the semester. This particular professor didn’t believe in midterms so the final covered everything they had gone over during the semester. It annoyed Connor slightly, he would rather take two smaller tests than one massive one. They had been told that there would be at least ten questions from each era of mythology they had covered. it was a daunting undertaking and Connor didn’t think he was ready for it. Not that it mattered much, considering as he didn’t have a choice, but the sheer size of the test made his looming anxiety seem heavier. If he didn’t finish in time he would fail automatically and could kiss his shot at the nurses exam goodbye.

Connor did his best to shake those thoughts from his head as he go this things together. Maybe if he got there as the first exam was finishing he could get an early start. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the classroom waiting across the hall for the other exam to let out. He got his quarter out again to calm his nerves. He went through the same motions as the cafe. Rolling the coin over his knuckles before tossing it in the air and catching it. He did all of this without looking. On the fifth toss the door opened and Connor caught his coin putting it away. He waited for a gap in the students so he could enter the classroom. The professor wouldn’t let him start early, but he did gain extra time to study as he waited on his classmates. He hoped it would help him get through the test faster to have some of the information fresh in his mind.

When the exam was handed out Connor silently cursed Silas and came to understand why North had hated the class so much. More than half of the test was made up of short answer or essay questions. This was going to take forever. With a sigh that was just as much annoyed as it was anxious Connor started on the exam. He finished with a little over five minutes left in the test period. He was one of the last students in the room. He turned in the exam and left quickly, letting out a relieved sigh once he was back in the hall.

Connor: Done for the night and about to head home

Hank <3: How are you feeling?

Connor: Stressed and relieved

Connor: Happy that this is almost over

Hank <3: Take a break tonight. Alright?

Hank <3: Try and unwind

Connor: That sounds like a good plan

Connor: When I get home I’ll let you know if you owe me a pizza :p

Hank <3: Cheeky bastard

Connor: That shouldn’t be news to you

Hank <3: Its not ;)

Connor smiled at the conversation and opened discord as he got in the cab. He tapped his apartment address into the terminal before he messaged his brothers.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Silas you jinxed me

RunawayArkait: More than half the test was short answer or essay questions

Sixty-Second-Set: Oops. But you finished didn’t you?

UnluckyNine: Obviously. Congrats by the way

Sixty-Second-Set: Then everything is fine

RunawayArkait: Anyway, I’m gonna be offline for the night

Sixty-Second-Set: Enjoy talking with Hank

UnluckyNine: Don’t do anything Silas wouldn’t do

RunawayArkait: That leaves me a lot of options

RunawayArkait: Also I hate you both

-

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Done for the night

RunawayArkait: We can compare test scores tomorrow Josh. I’m going to be offline tonight

SimonSays: Tell Hank hello

RunawayArkait: Why is everyone assuming that!

Northern_Lights: Are we wrong

RunawayArkait: Well no

What.Josh.Does: Alright. Tomorrow then. Have a good night Connor

RunawayArkait: Thanks

He opened Canvas in his phone’s web browser to check if the exams from yesterday had been graded. They had been and he had passed them both. He had gotten 100% on his calculus exam and a 95% on his art history exam. Both above the cut off. It was definitely going to be victory pizza. Then he was going to unwind with a glass of wine and a bubble bath. He’d use what was left of his night to catch up on his sleep.

The cab pulled up to his apartment complex, he paid and got out to head up to his unit. Once he was inside and had put his backpack away and sent Hank a screen shot of his test results.

Connor: So, victory pizza?

Hank <3: Victory pizza. You got any place you usually order from

Connor: Nope. You can pick

Connor: Medium with cheese and mushrooms please

Hank <3: I really should have known that your pizza order was going to be fucking weird

Hank <3: I need your complex name and your apartment number

Connor: Ridgewood Apartments building B5 apartment 205-B

Hank <3: Alright. It’ll be there in an hour

Connor: You’re the best

Hank <3: You only say that because I bought you pizza

Connor: And coffee ;)

Hank <3: You’re the worst

Connor: I try my best

He put his phone on full volume and walked into the kitchen and got out a stemless wine glass as well as the bottle of white wine Silas had bough him the last time he came over. He poured himself half a glass and put the bottle away. With the glass in hand he made his way back to the living room sat back on the couch and kicked his socked feet up onto the coffee table. He turned on the tv and turned it to the true crime channel, quickly getting absorbed in what was on. An hour or so later when there was a knock at his door Connor just about jumped out of his skin. He collected himself and answered the door. He took the pizza and tanked the delivery person before heading back to the living room. He opened the box and set it on the coffee table beside his wine glass. He took a picture and sent it to Hank.

Connor: The right way to celebrate finals (almost) being over

He received a picture in return. It was of Hank’s coffee table, there was a half full whiskey glass and Chinese take out. Sumo was sprawled out in the background.

Hank <3: You’ve got the right idea Con

Connor: Glad we can agree

He moved to the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table so he could use it as a dining table. He had a couple slices of pizza and finished his first glass of wine before he put the left overs away. He poured another glass of wine and made his way to the bathroom. He started the bath added bubbles and let the water run as he went to his room to get pyjamas. He texted Hank again before he got into the bath.

Connor: Now for the best part of the night. Relaxing with a glass of wine.

Hank <3: I’m more of a whiskey guy myself, but that sounds like a good plan.

Connor let out a content sigh as he sank into the water and relaxed into the warmth. He played music from his phone and stayed in the water until it went cold. He rinsed off and got ready for bed and texted Hank as he plugged his phone in for the night.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Sleep well Connor

Hank <3: We wouldn’t want North drawing on you again :)

Connor: No we would not

The next day he didn’t wake up until around noon, his body deciding to try and make up for all of his lost sleep in one go. He got up and got ready, taking what he would no longer need out of his backpack and heading for the cafe. Deciding to walk since it was nice out. While he was waiting to cross at a crosswalk he sent the screenshot of his test results to Josh.

What.Josh.Does: Nice! I got a 97%

What.Josh.Does: I’ll cover your first drink as promised

RunawayArkait: You’re the best

What.Josh.Does: You’re only saying that because I’m buying you a coffee

RunawayArkait: See you soon

He tucked his phone away and crossed the street and continued on his way to the cafe, He put his bag at his usual table and went to stand in line. Connor hadn’t been in line long when Hank’s voice sounded from behind him.

“Late start today Con?” Hank asked, the nickname he had given Connor rolled off his tongue like they had known each other for years. The dopey grin it caused to curl over Connor’s lips made him glad that Hank was behind him, “you’re usually passed out at your table by now.”

“That’s only happened like twice this week,” Connor argued, it was weak but it was all he had.

“Connor, its Wednesday,” Hank continued, “two out of three days this week you’ve been asleep at the table. A two-thirds average isn’t that great when you’re on the third day.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that today considering as I didn’t wake up until like noon.”

“So you finally made up for your lost sleep.”

“Apparently.” Connor said as he stepped up to the counter, “a large Iced Americano please.”

Josh put the order in and Connor walked to the end counter to wait. He was tempted to pull out his coin but the cafe was pretty busy today and the sound tended to annoy people. So he settled for signing the alphabet in reverse. This would be his last test for the semester, he’d had plenty of time to prepare and yet his anxiety was still eating at him. He finished one cycle of the alphabet and started over.

“So what are you doing with your hand?” Hank asked, scaring the life out of Connor who had retreated into his own thoughts.

“Signing the alphabet backwards.” Connor replied once he had collected himself.

“Why?”

“I need something to keep my hands busy when I’m anxious and I don’t want to annoy anyone with my quarter.”

“Test anxiety? Is that why you’ve been studying so hard?’

“Yeah. I want to do everything in my power to make sure I pass my exams.” His drink was called and he went up to the counter to grab it. He pointed to the table where his bag was and when Hank nodded Connor made his way over.

Connor took his seat and got out his sociology textbook and notes. By the time he had gotten his stuff out Hank was taking his usual seat across the table. He got out his laptop and they both got to work. They passed the time in busy pleasant silence until Hank asked him a question.

“So what do you do with your quarter that annoys people?” Hank asked as he looked up from his work.

“This.” He said as he pulled out the coin rolling it over his knuckles then flicking it up in the air, catching it in his other hand and then showed it off with a ‘tada’ motion.

“That’s a pretty neat trick.” Hank said with a half smile, “but i can see why you wouldn’t want to d it in a crowded place.”

“It annoys some people so I try to avoid doing it if I can.” He said, returning his attention to his notes.

The conversation fell away after that. Hank was the first to leave today, Sumo had a doctors appointment. They said their goodbyes and Connor got back to work. A few hours later when he was on his way to the university he sent Hank a text.

Connor: Last one. Wish me luck

Hank <3: You’ve got this Con, luck or no luck

Hank <3: But good luck

Connor: Thanks Hank. You’re the best

Hank <3: I try to be

Connor was smiling at his phone like a love struck idiot and it took all of his strength not to send a heart back. He didn’t want to make Hank uncomfortable. They were only friends and most friends didn’t do that. He set his phone in his lap and used his hands to cover his blush and matching dopey grin. He knew he had it bad. Going back over the texts, some of them sounded like flirting. Connor took a deep breath trying to collect himself, he needed to focus on his final for the time being.

He was somewhat back to himself when he got to the university. Once this test was done he had four days of what amounted to free time. Thursday, Friday, and Sunday were days he was going to use to study for his nurses exam and Saturday he was going to meet Sumo. Monday it was back to work as usual and then that Friday he was taking his nurses exam. Then it was back to business as usual until the fall semester started, He got out and made his way to building 1 for the last time this semester.

He made his way to the classroom as the previous class left. There wouldn’t be any last minute studying this time. He took his phone out of his pocket to double check that it was on silent then put it away. When the last of the students filed out Connor entered the class and took his usual seat.

Once it started, the testing block seemed to fly by. He finished with half an hour left. Surprisingly this test was the one he felt the most confidence for. When he got in a cab, he messaged Hank first.

Connor: I’m done!

Connor: My finals are finished!

Hank <3: Congratulations! For the next two weeks you’re free

Connor: I’m going home and taking a fucking nap

Hank <3: It’s well earned

Hank <3: Sleep well Con

-

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: I’m done

UnluckyNine: Congratulations

Sixty-Second-Set: Time to celebrate

RunawayArkait: Time to take a nap

UnluckyNine: That works too

Sixty-Second-Set: Boring

-

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: I’m free

SimonSays: Nice

What.Josh.Does: Good for you

Northern_Lights: Party time!

RunawayArkait: Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll be taking a nap

Northern_Lights: That’s boring

Connor rolled his eyes as he closed discord going back to his conversation with Hank.

Connor: Apparently I’m boring for wanting to sleep off my finals

Hank <3: They’re your tests. You get to pick how you celebrate

Connor: Exactly. So I’m going to make up for lost sleep

Hank <3: Sounds like a good plan to me

Connor: Thanks

The cab arrived at his apartment and he paid and got out. Exhaustion weighed down on him as he made his way up to his unit. He’d reheat a couple slices of pizza for dinner and then head to bed. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before getting his door unlocked

Once he was inside he dropped his bag by the door and kicked his shoes off. In the morning the mess would probably bother him, but he was tired now so that was future Connor’s problem. He opened the fridge and grabbed two slices of pizza and put them on a paper towel then in the microwave. Tonight was a lazy night. He changed into pyjamas and came back into the kitchen when the microwave went off. For the sake of convenience he ate over the kitchen sink. He rushed through his nightly routine, Before he climbed into bed he pugged in his phone and messaged Hank one last time.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Sleep well Connor

Thursday found him awake around eleven. Unlike yesterday there was no sleep hangover, for the first time in a long time he felt well rested. He spent the first part of the day cleaning his apartment and doing laundry. Giving his brain a break from the bookwork, which felt pretty nice.

Around three o’clock he made his way to the cafe. He stood in line and looked around. He found Hank at their usual table, he was absorbed in his work and had earbuds in. Since he had the time, he messaged him to see if he wanted anything.

Connor: I’m in line. Would you like anything

He scanned the menu deciding on a chai tea rather than coffee since he felt well rested for once. He looked down when his phone vibrated.

Hank <3: Fist of all, you scared the ever loving fuck outta 

Hank <3: My usual with two shots please

Connor: Got it :)

Connor: And sorry. I just thought I’d ask since I was up here

When it was his turn he noticed one of the new trainees, Echo, he believed, working the register while North worked the bar. He smiled at the blue haired woman, “Could I get a medium Chai Tea with cinnamon and nutmeg as well as a Vanilla Latte with two shots of espresso.”

She seemed to struggle with the first drink and North came to her aid, staying to help with the second and writing on the cups to make things easier. Connor always spoke his orders to the new hires since knowing how to sign wasn’t a requirement and he didn’t want to assume they knew it.  Shifts were designed so that at least one person who knew Sign Language was there. Once the drinks were up, he headed for the table.

He sat across from Hank in his usual seat and slid the cup across the table while Hank took out his earbuds, “so manuscript today or short stories?”

“Manuscript surprisingly enough.” Hank said before drinking from his latte and letting out a content hum, “what about you? What book are you rubbing your nose against today?”

“Today I’m going over the notes and study guide Markus gave me to make flashcards to go over on my breaks since I go back to work on Monday,” Connor said as he got out what he would need. Typed out notes, a hand written study guide, a stack of one thousand notecards, and a pencil pouch with that said ‘always look on the bright side’ on the front.

Hank gave an amused chuckle and shook his head, “I still think you should go over the definition of the word break Con.”

Connor drank from his chai tea to cover the involuntary grin that the nickname caused, “I’m taking an ‘actual’ day off on Saturday. Remember?”

Hank rolled his eyes but seemed to accept Connor’s flimsy argument. They lapsed into a companionable silence. Connor was working on his flashcards and Hank was working on his manuscript. Occasionally Connor would catch himself staring at Hank, but would look away before he got caught and forced himself get back to work. Until his luck ran out and Hank met his eyes cracking a smile that lead Connor to believe he hadn’t been nearly as stealthy as he had thought.

“See something you like Connor?” Hank joked, and it had to be a joke. Despite the way some of their messages read there was no way Hank would ever flirt with him. Connor turned into a tomato anyway.

“I was, um, I was just staring off into space...” he trailed off never having been all that great of a liar. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow them whole.

Hank didn’t look like he believed Connor but he didn’t comment on it. They went back to their easy silence until Hank had to leave.

“Sumo is getting groomed tomorrow, so I’m not gonna make it to the cafe,” Hank sounded almost upset that he was going to miss a day. Like he looked forward to these days too.

“That’s alright,” Connor said with a slight shrug, “we’ll see each other on Saturday.”

“See you Saturday then,” Hank responded with a half smile as he turned to leave.

Connor watched him go before getting back to his notecards. It took him a few hours and a couple cups of coffee to get them finished, and once he was done he headed home. He would probably stay home tomorrow too. Take a day to himself and mentally prepare for meeting Sumo and what that would bring.

He finished off the pizza and did the rest of his laundry. With his apartment mostly clean and his laundry done, Connor decided to call it a night. Once again messaging Hank before falling asleep.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Night Connor

Hank <3: Don’t work too hard tomorrow

Connor: No promises, but I’ll try my best

He spent most of Friday morning fretting over what to wear. Eventually deciding on a black short sleeve button down that was patterned with gradient grey roses, black jeans and grey converse. It wasn’t a date, but looking nice couldn’t hurt anything. He hung the outfit on his closet door and paced into his living room debating on if it would be better to message his brothers or his friends. Richard hadn’t dated anyone before so seeking him out for romantic advise probably wouldn’t be the wisest. Silas preferred a friends with benefits arrangement over dating so he wouldn’t be any help. North would just make fun of him. That left Josh, Simon, and Markus. Simon and Markus were dating so that would probably be the best bet.

RunawayArkait has started a group chat with Made-By_Markus and SimonSays!

RunawayArkait: I need help

RunawayArkait: What does one do on a not-date visit to their crush’s house to meet their dog

SimonSays: Send their kind and supportive friends pictures of said dog. Obviously

SimonSays: Keep a level head, but pay enough attention to see if he is flirting back

RunawayArkait: Flirting back? That implies that I flirt with him. Which I don’t!

Made-By_Markus: But you do. I’ve heard all about it from Simon

RunawayArkait: Rude!

Made-By_Markus: As cliche as it sounds, just be yourself

SimonSays: Relax. Like you said, it’s not a date

RunawayArkait: Thanks I guess

Made-By_Markus: Anytime. Also Simon, I’m in the lobby

SimonSays: Alright. I’ll be down soon

RunawayArkait: And that’s my cue to leave. Enjoy your date!

Made-By_Markus: Thanks

Connor groaned at the lack of help. Figuring he was stressing too much over something that was decidedly not a date, he decided to spend the rest of his Friday curled up on the couch catching up on all of the true crime shows he had missed on his study binge.

He woke up at eight in the morning on Saturday. He took his time getting ready and once he was satisfied with his appearance he left for the cafe at around eleven-thirty. He decided to walk so he could work off some of the anxiety that was thrumming beneath his skin. He debated cancelling several times, but eventually decided that he deserved to meet a new dog after having worked so hard to pass all of his finals. If it so happened that he was reading too far into this, which was incredibly likely, he would have at least gotten to see a new dog. He would be able to add a Saint Bernard to his mug which he would have to edit and then reorder. He won either way.

Connor arrived to find Hank waiting outside the cafe with one of the biggest and most fluffy dogs he had ever seen. Sumo sat neatly beside Hank looking to be very well trained, which was probably pretty helpful considering the dog’s size. He took a picture of Sumo with is phone before greeting Hank.

“You’re here early.” Connor said in way of a greeting and Hank turned to him with a smile.

“So are you Con,” he said, lifting his free hand in a lazy wave, “but that’s more expected of you than me.”

Connor laughed, “Yeah.”

Hank changed the subject, “So I didn’t find a no pets sign but I just wanted to check if Sumo would be allowed inside.”

“Unfortunately no. We do have a service animal policy tough.” Connor kept himself from gesturing at the door with his free hand by reaching it out toward Sumo so the large dog could sniff at it, “I can go inside and get the drinks then meet you back out here, since I’m covering drinks today anyway. Your usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hank said with a thankful smile. “I’ll let you know if we head back to the car.”

“Thanks/” Connor said as he headed inside.

The line was thankfully short and it didn’t take long to place their order. An iced Americano for Connor and a Vanilla Latte with two shots of espresso for Hank. When he exited the cafe, both Hank and Sumo were at the bench.

“Ready?” Hank asked as he got up, Sumo obediently following suit.

“Yup.” He handed the latte off as they walked to the car and Sumo happily snuffled at his free hand as they went.

When they got to the car Connor opened the back door on the passenger side so Hank could get Sumo in. With that taken care of, Connor got in on the passenger side, only to have Sumo lean forward and lick a stripe up his face when he turned to look in the back seat. Hank laughed at the sight.

“Hello to you too Sumo.” Connor said, using his jacket sleeve to wipe the drool off of his face then reaching back to pet him, “its nice to meet you.”

“What kind of dog do you think you’re gonna get once you graduate?” Hank asked as he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive to his house.

“Either an Australian Shepherd or a Golden Retriever,” Connor replied, “small enough to keep in an apartment but big enough to socially be considered a dog. I hope to be able to put them through search and rescue as well as service training.”

“Why am I not surprised you have all of this planned out.” Hank shook his head with a fond smile.

“I like being organized.”

“I can tell.”

Connor rolled his eyes, “What made you decide on a Saint Bernard?”

“I picked him up from a shelter a few years back.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his words, “my fiance and I had split and I didn’t want to be alone in the house. Took about a month to realize i was going to need a bigger yard and then we moved. Whoever had him first had already trained him which has made things a lot easier.” He looked in the rearview mirror at Sumo for a moment, “the big lug even knows a couple of hand signs.”

Hank had a fiance at one point, a few years back apparently. Connor wanted to ask about it, but the rapid change in topic made it clear that Hank didn’t want to, “Really? What commands does he know the signs for?”

“I’ll show you when we get to the house, how about that?” Hank suggested.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

As it turned out, Sumo knew the signs for sit, stay, laydown, and roll over. Connor spent the next few hours teaching him the sign commands for speak, play dead, shake hands, and high five. It didn’t go well, which was fine because hank seemed to get a kick out of it. Once he gave up and settled beside Hank on the couch they ordered take out and talked enjoying each other’s company. It was a few hours later, when they were getting ready to leave that Hank asked him a favor.

“So I kind of had an ulterior motive for asking you over today,” Hank started with a tentative smile. “There’s a writers’ conference next weekend, I was wondering if you would mind stopping by to check on Sumo while I’m away since he seems to like you.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Connor said as he headed for the door. “He’s well behaved and a sweetheart.”

“Thank you so much.” Hank sounded genuinely relieved. He opened the front door and called over his shoulder to Sumo, “I’ll be back soon. Be good while I take Connor home.”

“I’ll see you next weekend,” Connor called to the dog as he left.

The ride to Connor’s apartment was filled with idle chatter, broken up occasionally by Connor giving Hank directions. It was nice, and his anxiety over today seemed distant and unnecessary. Today had been easy and comfortable. They arrived at his complex about twenty minutes later and Connor wasn’t ready to be done yet.

“Uh, today was nice,” Connor said eloquently. He was pretty sure he couldn’t have been more awkward if he tried.

“Yeah, it was,” Hank said seeming just as nervous, “um, if you want to come by again just let me know I guess.”

“Yeah. Uh, thanks then.” Hank unlocked the door as Connor reached for the handle, “I’ll um, I’ll watch Sumo whenever you need me to.”

“Thanks Con,” he said as Connor opened the door and got out, “have a good night.”

“You too Hank.” Connor gave him a slight wave before he shut the car door and went inside the complex. He had been so awkward. Hank definitely know now and he was probably uncomfortable.

Connor let out a frustrated groan once he was in his apartment. He made himself a cup of tea to help wind down before bed. The best thing he could do would be to act like nothing had changed and maybe they could still be friends. He sighed and finished his tea and got ready for bed. He texted Hank as usual before calling it a night.

Connor: Thanks for today Hank. It was a lot of fun

Connor: Good night

Hank <3: I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Sleep well Con

Connor smiled at his phone before setting it aside and falling asleep. As long as he could keep his feeling tucked away, things would be fine. 

Sunday went by in a blur of studying and self pity. He answered messages as they came, trying to make it seem like things were normal. Like he hadn’t potentially fucked everything up. He was thankful he had today to wallow because come tomorrow he had to be a functioning human being. When he was getting ready for bed, he checked the messages from Hank like he hadn’t been avoiding him all day.

Hank <3: Are you coming to the cafe today?

Hank <3: Is everything alright?

Hank <3: Connor?

Connor: Sorry

Connor: My exhaustion from the week came back with a vengeance

Connor: I didn’t mean to worry you

Hank <3: It’s alright

Hank <3: I’m just glad to see that you’re okay

Connor: I’m going to call it a night

Hank <3: Sleep well

Connor: Thank you

Guilt clung to Connor as he drifted off making his sleep uneasy and restless. He didn’t mean to make Hank worry he just hadn’t known how to face him. When morning rolled around he was exhausted. He went through his morning routine on autopilot. He made coffee and poured it into his travel mug before walking to work. He was almost late, but made up for it by working part of the lunch rush. He didn’t see Hank before he clocked out for the day. He walked back home and took some time to himself before studying. 

The rest of the week went similarly. His texts to Hank throughout the day and before bed became the parts of his routine he looked forward to the most. he had Friday off so he could take his nurses exam. Connor didn’t feel like he would be ready, but this was all the time he was going to get. He would deal with it come Friday.

He woke up early on Friday and spent his morning studying. He left for the university around two and messaged Hank first when he got in the cab.

Connor: On my way to the exam

Hank <3: Good luck

Hank <3: Let me know how it goes

Connor: Will do :)

-

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Time for the exam

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ve got this

UnluckyNine; You’re more than ready

-

The Coffee Crew

RunawayArkait: Exam day

Northern_Lights: Bet you’ll be in the top half of the class

Echo-Over-The-Water: Good luck Connor!

SimonSays: You’ll do great

What.Josh.Does: Here comes the cafe’s second nursing student

Connor put his [hone on silent and spent the rest of the cab ride going over his notecards. Markus had given him a general idea of what the test would cover, though the specific questions were changed every testing period. The test was a mix of essay, short answer, and multiple choice questions. They would have three hours to finish. Connor wasn’t exactly confident that he would pass, but he was fairly certain he would finish before the testing period ended. The results would be posted on Monday and he would have time to register for the recommended classes and buy books after that. Not to mention a whole weekend with Sumo to help with his worry.

He took his time on the exam, and then more time to go back over and correct some of his answers. He turned in the exam with fifteen minutes left in the period. He ordered a cab and messaged Hank, knowing that the other was on a flight and he wouldn’t get a reply.

Connor: Finished my exam and I’m feeling pretty good about it

Connor: I’ll swing by in a couple hours to check on Sumo and send pictures

-

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: It’s done

UnluckyNine: Congrats

Sixty-Second-Set: Look at you go Mr. Nurse

-

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Finished!

RunawayArkait: I’m gonna be gone for the weekend

SimonSays: Give Sumo lots of love for us!

Echo-Over-The-Water: Congratulations!

Northern_Lights: You did it

What.Josh.Does: Enjoy your weekend

When he got to his apartment he set his bag on the couch and set an alarm on his phone for three hours from now and laid down for a nap. When he woke up he would pack for his weekend with Sumo.

[the-delta-42]

My Brother

My Brother

Following a premise that was sent to @nerdasaurus1200

This fic will be a slight AU of The War Cricle, but will feature the same characters.

Marinette tried to keep the fact she had a brother as quiet as possible, but that is becoming increasingly difficult because a. he’s the technician at the College and b. he’s having ‘relations’ with Ms. Bustier. And then today he had to go and ruin their cover. Now granted, it was technically her fault.

“Marinette, you forgot your lunch.” Said Michael as he popped into the classroom and handed Marinette her lunch bag.

“Thanks.” Said Marinette, gritting her teeth.

“Have a good day, little one. Caline, I’ll see you tonight.” Said Michael, as he walked out of the room.

A moment of silence passed, and then Marinette was bombarded with questions. One thing she knew for sure- she was going to kill him.

Caline looked up from her computer as Michael left the room. True to form, Marinette looked composed, except the look of murder that lived in her eyes. Caline decided that the ‘Lila Rossi take down’ file could wait for a few minutes, as the class bombarded Marinette with questions.

“Alright everyone, calm down. Yes, Michael is Marinette’s older brother. He and I are in a committed relationship. Unless Marinette wishes to say more on the matter, that is all you have to know. Now, back to your seats and continue reading in your textbook.” Instructed Ms. Bustier, going back to her computer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marinette giving her a silent ‘thank you’.

“HOW could you not tell us you had a brother?!” Asked Alya, openly gaping at Marinette.

“Hmm, let’s see, would you want people to know if your brother was going out with your teacher?” Was Marinette’s snarky response.

“Wait, if your brother’s 22 and Ms. Bustier is 30, why are they together?” Asked Kim, looking at the bluenette.

“I’m 23.” Corrected Ms. Bustier, looking slightly offended.

Kim winced and sunk down into his seat.

“And that’s how Kim failed literature.” Said Alix, getting a solid five minutes of laughter from her classmates.

MB

It’d been a few weeks since Michael had made his presence, and his relationship with Ms. Bustier, known to the class.

The class stiffened when they heard a sob. Everyone looked around, before Marinette spotted Ms. Bustier, one hand on her forehead and the other holding a pen as she marked some higher years’ work. Everyone wondered what was on the work to make Ms. Bustier cry.

“Dear god, they are so stupid.” Whispered Ms Bustier, looking at the student’s answers.

Marinette pulled out her phone and sent a text to Michael, ‘Cal needs your help. Something bad just happened.’

Not a minute later, she got a reply ‘Be there in 5.’

True to form, Michael arrived in five minutes and walked over to the desk and spoke with Caline in low tones, before looking at the paper and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, everyone,” Said Michael, getting everyone to look at him, “Who can tell me who William Shakespeare was?”

“He was an English play write who lived between 1564 and 1616.” Said Max, automatically.

“Well, one of the students in the year above you put, a man shaking a spear and selling weed.” Said Michael, making everyone freeze, “You do not know how depressing it is to know that 4th grade students are smarter than 2nd grade students.”

There was a collective wince from the class as the news sunk in and Ms. Bustier dissolved into a fresh wave of tears.

MB

The school found itself on the business end of a surprise inspection. The inspectors had gone around the school and continuously tutted at the students, teacher and other people in and around the school.

One inspector froze when he saw Chloe Bourgeois openly bully another member of the class, before turning to Ms. Bustier, “Are you really going to allow that to continue?”

Everyone watched as Ms. Bustier handed the inspector a piece of paper.

“So, the reason bullying isn’t punished is because the Principle has kept brushing it under the rug?” Clarified the inspector, frowning at the document.

“Pretty much, we once had a staff member who wasn’t even a week into the job before they were fired because they attempted to give a detention to one of those names.” Explained Ms. Bustier, leaning forwards on her desk.

The inspector frowned and said, “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, please.”

An hour later the art teacher poked his head in and said, “Damocles has just been relieved of his post.”

“What?!” Exclaimed Ms. Bustier, getting to her feet, “How?”

“They confronted him about the issues with his ‘exceptions’ list and found he’d misappropriated school funds.” Said the Art Teacher, as Ms. Mendeleiev walked past.

“What’d he do?” Asked Ms. Bustier, as Michael came up to the room.

“He’s put some of it in his own pocket, and he used the rest to turn his office into a superhero den, complete with hidden rooms and compartments.” Said the Art Teacher as Michael squeezed past.

“They also found evidence of, er, ‘inappropriate’ images of children, on school computers.” Said Michael, as he approached Caline, “After you showed them that list, they interviewed each staff member individually and found grounds to relieve his of his position as principal.”

“You do not know, how happy that makes me feel.” Said Caline, grinning.

 The day after Damocles had been relieved of his post as Principal, all the teachers seemed to gain new life to them. Ms. Bustier was happy to finally give Lila a detention for ‘distracting the class’, it only got better when they finally got phone number for Lila’s mother. Caline thought she should’ve brought popcorn. Lucky for her, Michael was kind enough to provide some.

MB

Michael narrowed his eyes and folded his arms as Marinette introduced Luka to him. He examined the boy, looking him up and down, before looking at Marinette.

“So, he’s the boyfriend?” Said Michael, getting a vehement refusal, making Michael leaned back smirking, “Ah, so this is the gay one.”

Marinette had taken a sip of a drink, which she proceeded to choke on. “MICHAEL!!”

“It’s okay, I get that a lot.” Said Luka, looking at Marinette’s brother, “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

“My friend, as you may have observed,” Said Michael, looking down at Luka, “Our father, is a literal, fucking, giant.”

Luka frowned, before nodding.

MB

Marinette rocked back and forth as Michael typed away on the computer.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll start thinking somethings wrong.” Said Michael, making Marinette freeze and look at him.

“Michael,” Asked Marinette, “how long have you known Caline?”

“Since we were in school,” Responded Michael, “we were in the same class, I had a crush on her and was devastated when she started dating someone else, but I chose to support her in whatever made her happy. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that Adrien’s dating Kagami, and I know I should be happy for them, but…” Marinette trailed off.

“But you can’t help but wish you were the one he was in love with.” Finished Michael, looking at her, “Little one, it’s alright to feel those things, it only becomes wrong the moment you start to interfere with their relationship. Give it some time, and perhaps you’ll have your shot again.”

Marinette gave her brother a watery smile, before he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. Both being unaware of the couple standing outside the door.

“Come on, Nonna’s visiting today.” Said Michael, making Adrien and Kagami hide in a cupboard.

MB

Michael was pacing in the waiting area outside the hospital room.

“Caline’s going to be fine.” Said Sabine, looking up at her son.

“But what if she isn’t?” Asked Michael, his pacing increasing, “She’s been in there for hours, what if somethings gone wrong? What if she’s lost? What if the baby’s lost? What if they’re both lost and all I’ll have of them is the ultrasound photo?”

“Michael, did I ever tell you what your father did when you and your sister were born?” Asked Sabine, making Michael look down at her, “He ran through the hospital, screaming and yelling for doctors because I was screaming, he called for emergency services and, eventually, had to be sedated, but when he woke up and met you and Skye, he practically melted.”

“So, you’re saying we all get our spiralling panic attacks from dad?” Asked Michael, getting a small smile from Sabine.

“You all get so much from your father, and from me.” Said Sabine, placing her hand on Michael’s cheek, “I know you feel like you failed because you weren’t there for Sam and Brianna, but you’re with them now and I know that they are just as worried for Caline as you are.”

Michael smiled slightly, before looking down. Sam and Brianna were with Skye and Nora, while Michelle was being watched by Marinette back at the bakery. Michael’s head jerked up at the sound of a newborn baby crying. Quickly jumping to his feet, Michael made his way over to the doors and looked in through the window. A nurse opened the door, making Michael jump back and nervously grin.

“Congratulations,” Said the Nurse, her face completely straight, “you’re a father.”

Michael looked past the nurse and spotted Caline holding a screaming bundle.

“Can, can I go in?” Asked Michael, nervously.

“As long as you don’t have anything contagious,” Said the Nurse, looking at Michael and then at his mother, “Everything should be fine.”

“We had our temperatures checked when we arrived on the floor.” Said Sabine, gently pushing Michael towards Caline and the baby.

“Cal?” Called Michael, making the red head look up.

Caline smiled and gestured Michael to come closer, carefully positioning the bundle so they could scream at Michael. Michael perched on the edge of the bed, the baby’s screams quietened and two, big, bright blue eyes stared up at Michael.

“Looks like this one is a daddy’s girl.” Said Caline, as the baby continued to stare up at Michael.

Then, out of nowhere, two small sneezes made the couple smile. The baby sneezed for a third time, before looking back at Michael and then at Caline. Soft coos were coming from the baby.

“Are we still going to go with the name we agreed on?” Asked Caline, as the baby continued to stare at them.

“Maman,” Called Michael, getting his mother’s attention, “Come meet Sabine.”

MB

“Why are her eyes so big?” Asked Sam, tilting his head slightly.

“Because a person’s eyes are fully grown when they’re born, dummy.” Said Brianna, folding her arms.

“Then why are there people with really small eyes?” Continued Sam, as baby Sabine cooed up at them.

Michelle stared at her baby sister, before getting up and toddling over to Marinette, while baby Sabine started to try eating her foot.

“What is it with babies and eating themselves?” Asked Toby, before tossing the contents of his shot glass into his mouth.

“Why are you drinking cold coffee out of a shot glass?” Countered Skye, as Michelle returned with a Ourse plushie, sat down and started to doze off.

“What is it with Michael’s kids all being really quiet?” Asked Marinette, making her parents look at each other.

“Marinette,” Said her mother, “All of you were quiet babies, we had to by special baby monitors so we could actually know if any of you were having trouble.”

“I get the sinking feeling that there’s a horrible story coming.” Said Marinette, making her mother sigh.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Said Sabine, watching as baby Sabine’s eyes lit up when Michael trudged in, “Is everything alright?”

“Let’s just say that Caline’s lucky she’s on leave,” Said Michael, rubbing his eyes, “the schools had to get the police involved in what we thought was a minor internal issue.”

“What issue?” Asked Caline, as she returned from the toilet.

“Can’t say, because there are little ears about.” Said Michael, subtly gesturing to the small children and Marinette.

“Hey.” Protested Marinette, as Toby ushered her and the children from the room. Toby returned a minute later.

“They’re in Marinette’s room,” Said Toby, unaware of the Kwami floating under the sofa, “and there’s a movie on, so they’ll be entertained for a few hours.”

“We found a fuck ton of child pornography on a staff member’s computer.” Said Michael, groaning as he sat up, “Damocles wanted it to be dealt with quietly, however, at that point I’d already contacted the police.”

“Missed being in the uniform that much, huh?” Teased Toby, getting a glare from Michael.

“We’re still going through the folders, but we’ve already unearthed enough for the police to take it off our hands.” Said Michael, as his phone went off, “Ugh, what now?”

Michael answered the phone and all traces of tiredness vanished, “You what? Right, right, I’ll tell them.”

Michael hung up and looked around, “Okay, bad news first, they found evidence that Marinette was molested amongst the files, on a lighter note, Damocles has been arrested because they found he’d been backing up the pictures individually to his personal computer.”

There was a tense silence.

“When they say ‘molested’ do they actually mean ‘raped’?” Asked Skye, after a moment. Michael was silent, making Skye snarl, “Where is he?”

“They didn’t say.” Said Michael, as his twin started pacing.

“But we could find him, right, like we did with Li.” said Skye, rubbing her forehead.

“Skye, the reason none of us were prosecuted for Li was that they never found him.” Said Toby, making Caline frown.

“Who’s Li?” Asked Caline, making everyone freeze.

Michael opened his mouth, before freezing. He placed a finger to his lips and quietly made his way over to the door, upon reaching it, he pulled the door open, making Adrien and Kagami tumble into the room.

“What the hell are you two doing here?!” Snarled Michael, grabbing Adrien’s collar and pushing him against the wall, Skye doing the same with Kagami.

“W-we came to see Marinette.” Stuttered Adrien, as Michael glared at him.

“How much did you hear?” Growled Michael, before he heard a shuffling sound by the steps leading up to Marinette’s room.

“I heard enough.” Said Marinette, sitting curled up on one of the steps.

Michael and Skye froze, before the former sighed, “Marinette, go to Maman and Papa’s room please.”

Marinette went without a word, leaving Michael and Skye to deal with Adrien and Kagami. Michael set Adrien down, before glancing at his mother. Sabine understood his silent question and followed Marinette, as Michael started pacing around the room.

“Well, that was a fuck-up in a dixie.” Said Michael, running a hand down his face.

“No kidding.” Muttered Toby, as Tom started making some tea.

“Who’s Li?” Asked Adrien, making everyone look at him and Kagami.

“If we don’t tell you, you’re going to ask Marinette, aren’t you?” Questioned Skye, folding her arms across her chest.

“If we need to.” Said Kagami, her voice cold.

“You do that, and I’ll rip your spine out and strangle you with it.” Snapped Toby, his nails growing and sharpening.

“I doubt we’ll need to resort to violence.” Uttered Michael, looking at the two, “If we tell you, you must never speak of it.”

“Depends on what it is.” Said Kagami, glaring at Michael.

Michael glanced around the room, his eyes going to each person, before they settled on his father. Tom nodded but did not look happy about it.

“For three years, starting when Marinette was five,” Said Michael, his tone flat, “our uncle, Li Cheng, molested and raped her. When the family found out, we tore him apart. We don’t know how, but the authorities never found his remains.”

“Shortly after that, we came across an old man with a… unique music box,” Continued Skye, looking at her knees, “We don’t know how, but we found out that he had something that help suppress the memories. It’s why Marinette can’t speak, or understand, Chinese. It blocked off a major part of her memories, we never pushed the matter because we couldn’t risk the barricade breaking and having the girl that we all came to know, and love die at the hands of her own memories.”

Caline, Adrien and Kagami sat in shocked silence. The confession changed their view on everyone in the room. A cracking sound drew their attention to Tom, a broken cup in his hand with blood dripping onto the work surface. Skye sighed and got up to treat the wound, as Michael collapsed into a chair.

“W-what happens now?” Asked Adrien, looking around.

“Since Maman is explaining what happened to Marinette,” Said Toby, his voice hollow, “we have to clean up the remains of the barricade as best as we can.”

“We don’t actually know what’ll happen,” Corrected Michael, looking at his brother, “for all we know, Marinette will bounce back. But the reverse is also true, Marinette could be destroyed, and a different person takes her place.”

Michael’s ear twitched, he could hear sobbing. He doubted that it was his mother crying.

MB

The next week, Marinette seemed to be a shell of herself. Adrien had asked if it was alright if Alya knew, Michael just said, “That’s up to Marinette.”

The following weeks slowly turned into months, and Michael found himself leaning against the wall as the school broke for summer. Michael carefully watched Marinette leave with her friends, he didn’t know if Marinette told Alya, but the two seemed to be closer. He often found Marinette cuddled up with her friends at any one time, so far, it had been five. He trusted Luka, Nino and Alya, he wasn’t sure about Adrien and Kagami.

Michael frowned when he spotted Lila approaching the group but smirked when the Italian tripped over a chair leg.

“I really shouldn’t laugh,” Said Caline, balancing baby Sabine in her arms, “but I wish that was caught on camera.”

“It’s against the law, remember?” Joked Michael, as everyone looked down at Lila.

“I was talking about the security camera.” Caline pointed to the small, black orb that sat in the top corner of the room.

“Oh, I forgot about that one.” Smirked Michael, as Marinette and her friends vanished through the door.

“I don’t see how, you installed it.” Remarked Caline, as Sabine started whining because her mother had stopped bouncing her.

MB

Marinette rolled over and looked at the alarm clock, it was slowly ticking down to the time the alarm would go off. Normally, she’d get up and silence the alarm before it sounded, but she currently had a mod of blond hair pinning her arm down to her mattress. Marinette froze when she heard a snuffling sound. A red furred Labrador Retriever peaked over the edge of the bed. The dog gave its best impression of a grin, before barking at them. The cuddle pile jumped as the dog bounced onto the bed and started licking Marinette to death.

“Bridgette, no, why?” Whined Marinette, as the dog dropped herself down on top of Marinette.

Bridgette’s tail wagged harder, before a particularly loud bark, waking a small black cat hiding away on one of Marinette’s shelves. The cat jumped and hissed at the dog, while Marinette tried to wrangle the overgrown puppy off her bed. The cat jumped down and landed on Adrien’s lap. Felix glared at Bridgette and settled himself down on Adrien and started purring. The rest of the group slowly became aware of what was happening.

“Why couldn’t your brother get you some normal pets?” Asked Kagami, glaring at the two animals.

“A cat and dog are normal.” Said Alya, stretching her back.

Kagami glared harder and continued to grumble as Bridgette jumped off the bed and bounded out of the room. Adrien slowly got to his feet, carefully adjusting the cat in his arms as he followed after the dog, Nino and Alya following soon after.

“I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep, am I?” Asked Marinette, her arm covering her eyes.

“No.” Said Luka, before grabbing the covers and pulling them off, “Time to wake up, Mike and Celine are bringing their kids over today.”

Marinette whined and rolled over. That whine turned into a squeal as Kagami grabbed her and hauled her into her arms and started carrying her to the door.

“Nooo, I don’t wanna wake up.” Whined Marinette, dramatically struggling as Kagami princess carried her out of the room.

“If we’re lucky, none of the Kwami’s woke up.” Muttered Luka, nervously glancing at a doll house situated in the corner of the room. A loud snore came from Plagg’s room. Luka sighed in relief and followed Kagami and Mainette after the others.

“Fucking cat, trying to steal my camembert.” Drooled Plagg, kneading a cushion in his sleep.