#all the way in quebec

[niinazenikk]

Eepy

[pickled-flowers]

Having very big thoughts about spirituality and humanity.. alas I am never articulate enough so I'm just gonna rent in the tags as always

[titaniumabsol]

Celestin Caron (Dragon Age: Awakening)

Age: 38 (9:31 Dragon) Gender: Male Tarot: The Emperor Nationality/Ethnicity: Chasind/Orlesian-Antivan Class/Specializations: Mage, Blood Mage/Arcane Warrior/Spirit Healer/Shapeshifter (Lvl 31) Love Interest: Seneschal Varel of Vigil's Keep Party Comp.: Nathaniel/Justice, Anders, and Sigrun (But rotates with all pretty regularly)

Background: Born in 8:93 to a Chasind mother and an Orlesian-Antivan father, Caelesyn Caron lived in the familiar swamps of the Kocari Wilds until they were forced to leave due to increasing Templar raids. His father took them to Orlais to live with his family, living in serfdom under an Orlesian noble around Val Firmin. Caelesyn, now called Celestin, developed magic at age 8, and was aided by his parents to hide it.

He was discovered at 19 after a confrontation with the Orlesian noble, and evaded Templars for 5 days until he was caught and locked away in the White Spire. On grounds of good behaviour and a vouch from the Senior Enchanter, he was allowed to entertain nobles in the Imperial Wintersend Ball for a few years until the Enchanter is replaced, and so his sliver of freedom was ripped away. Short after, he received news of his parents' deaths. He escaped and made his way to a Grey Warden outpost in Val Chevin, where he became part of the Wardens.

Returning to Ferelden was, as best as it could be described, a reverse-culture shock. He wasn't back down in the Kocari Wilds but now in the north, dealing with nobles that didn't act like Orlesian nobles. His Chasind roots alienated him from Orlesians, but his Orlesian mannerisms and Chasind influences also alienated him from the Fereledans. And that is ignoring his status as a mage, and one that now held land property as the Arl of Amaranthine.

But, he is a Warden with a Duty. And he would fulfill his roles to the best of his abilities.

[ivettel]

at 2:00 in the morning on the day my first year of law school ended i finally. Finally. had my constitutional law big picture lightbulb moment

[thedeviousdevilxx]

If GnR was going to Calgary or Edmonton, I would so go in a heartbeat, but alas they’re only going places that are to far and expensive lol fuck.

[donotfear-iamhere]

The air quality here has gotten so much worse than yesterday omgg

[diari0deglierrori]

Eeeevery single time I’m with people I know and we meet people I don’t know and they introduce me they always have to say “she comes from [country]” and I’m so embarrassed for some reason

[sebibibebi]

settler colonies should get the same amount of races as they have de facto languages. wait that means canada gets two. post cancelled sorry

[jade-curtiss]

Wow I can't believe I woke up in time so I can have the delightful experience of going waste my time with service canada. It will be great.

[reveluving]

cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader

summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? ‘Cause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him ✋🏼😔 Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;

Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!

Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?

Absolute miracle.

There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.

The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.

“Omar, look.” You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.

That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.

“Would you like that one?” He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“Omar, we already have so much.” You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.

“Well, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?” He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, “We're buying it.”

Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.

That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.

But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.

He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.

Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.

You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling either—falling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.

Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.

“Omar…” You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege of—of your body and soul, “Move, please…”

He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.

So long your lips, your mind, your you—could do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:

I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.

» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider ♡

[wiisagi-maiingan]

The thing about Holocaust inversion and other comparisons to the Holocaust is that, even when the people making them very genuinely want to call out atrocities happening in the world, they seem to be physically incapable of conceptualizing what it means for 6 million people to be killed.

There are only around 18 US states with populations over 6 million.

The second and third most populated cities in the US, Los Angeles and Chicago, each have less than 4 million people.

Toronto, the most populated city in Canada, has about 2.7 million people.

Out of all the Canadian provinces, only Ontario and Quebec have populations over 6 million.

Sydney, Australia has a population of about 5 million. Berlin, Germany has a population of 3.7 million. Madrid, Spain is at 3.2 million. Yokohama, the second most populated city in Japan, is at 3.8 million.

It's estimated, from incomplete records, that about 5.8 million Jews were killed in the Holocaust. That's equivalent to the entire current population of Denmark.

And that happened over the course of about 5 years.

You can talk about travesties and horrific things happening in the world without comparing them to the systemic genocide of an incomprehensible number of people. Every time you want to make a comparison to the Holocaust, ask yourself, "Is this comparable to the entire population of Denmark being wiped out in 5 years?" The answer is probably no. Find a different way to describe what's happening without playing into Holocaust denial.

[seat-safety-switch]

Even in Canada, most people don't know that Quebec has a distinct legal system. As part of the messy business of consensus-building that is our beautiful-but-rickety Confederation, they were encouraged to develop their own justice doodads and gewgaws. I am assured by many attorneys "in the know" on this side that it is a lot of fun to observe on vacation, like visiting Disneyland and marvelling at the idea of a spaceman who can shoot lasers and fly, but in a law-talking kind of way.

Max, my shark of a lawyer, is no exception. He was born and bred on this side of Gatineau. Unlike myself, he does not have a thriving (some would say over-thriving) group of relatives in la belle province. As such, he is normally forced to rely on the insanely expensive hotel system over there. Me, I just drive up and park a shitty car in wherever it will fit in Great-Uncle Cliff's ancestral home's backyard, and walk in for a rich breakfast of cretons and and croutons whenever I want (to spend several thousand dollars on gasoline and car maintenance.)

Once he heard about this, Max immediately demanded to go with me on a road trip to go see my family. While I was busy gladhanding and surreptitiously checking my cousin Chaise's garage for a Saab F40 six-speed manual transmission that he's not using, Max would be in a courthouse, thrilling to every oddball twist of fate in small-claims court and each confusing interaction. Somewhere outside Steinbech, he took a break from coughing up exhaust-coloured phlegm to excitedly show me the page in his autograph book that he was about to fill up with the signatures of all the chief judges. I warned him that he was getting a bit ahead of himself, and to temper his expectations.

Friends, it is a little strange bailing out your own attorney, but I can tell you the coffee shop next to the Palais de Justice is extremely choice. Max paid, of course. It was the least he could do after ruining Great-Uncle Cliff's big day in traffic court with all that flash photography.

[dreamwatch]

Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Prompt: Band on the run | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, the press being scumbags, angst, Eddie Munson needs a hug, and Steve is going to give it to him, they're in love your honour | AO3

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out. 

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s. 

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night. 

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.” 

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again. 

“Always and forever,” he whispers back. 

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately;  Steve is his life. 

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!

[anglophile-alfred]

I love the idea of Alfred knowing every language out there because of how many different types of people live in America—and this is specifically a skill Alfred has, not every nation.

He could also use this skill for chaos, like speaking French whenever he wants to piss off England (who does know French, but you will never get him to speak it. Over his dead body).

Canada would probably forget America knows French and say an insult to him in the language under his breath, just to facepalm when Alfred easily replies with a comeback in not only French but specifically Quebec French.

America speaks only English around Ivan as a power move. He also knows that China is more receptive to him when he speaks Chinese. America somehow knowing every Chinese dialect and the intricacies of the language is the only thing China will admit as impressive about Alfred.

At world meetings when all of the languages are flying as people yell and argue, America gets overwhelmed and has to leave the room to cool off. But no one ever realizes that's why he does that.

And of course, he smiles so much when he talks to his people in their native languages and sees them brighten at being understood in their native tongue. I can also see him giving free classes on ASL and braille to help more people be able to speak with those who are deaf and blind. Probably the only languages he's still working on learning are the different forms of sign language in each country. He knows ASL but not BSL, for instance.

Alfred may be oblivious a lot of the time and also have a childish innocence to him in some ways that can affect his decision-making, but he's still smart under all of that. That's also why you see him suggesting superheroes as a solution to climate change while having archeology and astronomy as hobbies.

[gurugirl]

Here's To Us | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden romance

Thanks to this request!!

Summary: A quick little weekend getaway is sweet and romantic. You reveal something that makes Harry do something a bit out of character.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, public sex, breeding kink, age gap, fluffy fluff but also lined with a bit of anxiety at what's soon to come

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

Harry wasn’t giving a single fuck. You assumed he’d want to keep his distance at least on the way out to the taxi that waited in front of his house to take you both to the airport but he pulled you along, his hand wrapped around yours, and then kissed you right before you ducked down to slide into the backseat.

You felt a bit on edge as you looked all around, wondering which neighbor had seen it or if maybe Fae or her mother were parked nearby watching.

Harry put his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple when he climbed in next to you, “It’s fine. Don’t stress.”

Even at the airport, you kept your eyes moving all around. What if someone you knew was there? It was definitely possible. And with the way Harry kept stretching his hand out for you to hold, he didn’t seem to mind at all if anyone saw.

“What do you want?” Harry nudged your arm to give your order to the barista.

“Oh. Just a coffee. I’ll add some milk and sugar.”

Harry smiled down at you and rubbed your back, “Can you relax a little? Everything’s going to be just fine.”

You really did try. You weren’t able to fully chill until you were on the plane and in your seats. Harry didn’t let go of your hand as he kept reassuring you that things would be fine.

And they were fine. The trip was relatively uneventful. Other than you and Harry deciding to silence your phones so you could ignore the messages from his wife and his daughter. At that point, they were both convinced you and Harry were having an affair since neither of you was reachable or responding.

The last text you got from Fae had your heart dropping.

I know you must be with him because he’s not responding to me either and it’s unlike him. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

“Don’t look at it right now. Let’s just enjoy our time to be a normal couple. When we get back on Sunday we’ll face all of this together.”

You nodded and sighed, “I know. It’s just so hard. We’ve been hidden away from everyone and now things are changing. Being in the open and knowing what we’re about to do…” You leaned into his arm as you waited for your luggage to arrive on the conveyor.

Harry turned and put his nose to your temple, “I know baby. It’s a lot but we’ll be okay.”

Quebec was gorgeous. You’d never been before and you were thoroughly impressed with how clean and quaint the city was. A little dream town really.

Harry booked a room at the Hotel Boutique Ophelia. It was all modern and updated with a nice cocktail bar you couldn’t wait to enjoy with Harry by your side. You were already feeling giddy about going out in public with him and not being worried that anyone would spot you.

Your room had a big king-sized bed and a tall window that overlooked the busy street. The bathroom had a big tub with jets, “Harry this is really nice,” you looked around as you sat on the bed.

Harry sat next to you and laid back into the bed, stretching his limbs with a groan.

Of course when he did that his t-shirt lifted and exposed part of his tummy. Which you couldn’t help but lean over him and kiss the expanse of exposed flesh.

But it didn’t end there. When you felt his hand cup the back of your head you smiled as you kissed his belly button and the bit of hair tickled your mouth. You plucked at his button and opened his trousers and he started to sit up to protest but his appeal was weak. He folded nearly as fast as he opened his mouth and you shushed him as you pulled his pants down and reached into his briefs to find his cock.

You just wanted to show him how grateful you were. You realized that what he was doing with you would be something he could never come back from. He would lose his stability, his financial situation would change dramatically, people would shun him or hate him, and his daughter might despise him. He could lose her. You could lose her. Everything you two were doing was a risk and it was going to hurt a lot of people. But you weren’t going to stop now. It was too late for that. It was too late to take it all back and pretend nothing had happened. Because now his wife and his daughter were onto you both. Especially the way you’d gone silent in the last couple of days.

So, he deserved some kind of gift from you. And a good blow job could do the trick for now. It was all you had to give but you hoped it could convey your appreciation to him. That he chose you above everyone else in his life who was most important. He picked you. Over his own daughter. And yes, that might be a horrible thing, but to you… it just meant you wanted to give him anything he wanted. Show him how much you loved him and that you’d never leave his side.

And yes, it was just a blow job, but it was a start. Right?

The moment you pulled him out of his underwear he scrambled to pull them off and you licked over his tip softly and kissed. You looked up at him through your lashes with your tongue out and lovingly wetted his shaft and kissed as you went.

“I love you, Harry,” you moved your lips against his foreskin as you spoke.

His grunted response made you smile as you kissed your way down his length. He grew hard fast which pleased you. You wanted that response. Loved that he got so hard for you.

You drew your hand up and down his shaft as you kissed and lapped at his scrotum gently. You leaned to your right a bit so you could see his face beyond his thick cock that you pumped slowly. He was already looking down at you with his lips parted and small puffs of breath falling from his mouth. His nostrils were flaring slightly as he inhaled.

You did love him. So much. He was so good with you. So sweet and patient. And reassuring. He was everything and you held him taught in your hand as you brought your lips to his tip, kissing his slit again and sighing, “Wanna have you coming in my mouth. Want to show you how happy I am with you.”

You had to tell him ahead of time. Because so many times you’d start sucking him off and he’d want to finish inside of you. He preferred filling you up and telling you how he was gonna knock you up. Which you did love. And you wanted. But this was for him. Something just for Harry. He always made sex all about you and your pleasure. But at that moment, you only wanted his pleasure. His ecstasy.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and tongued over his frenulum before moving yourself down further over him, sucking him in. You kept your hand wrapped around his base, twisting and pulling softly as you licked and sucked around his cock. You used your hand as an extension of your mouth.

With Harry’s legs spread just a bit he tucked a pillow under his neck so he could angle himself to watch you. You gave him your best work. Taking him down as deep as possible and then lifting up to his tip over and over again, letting your tongue wet his prick and swirl around his head.

You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked and twisted his base with your wet palm. Harry moaned and reached down to your head. His eyes were dark as his pupils were blown out and his moans were getting whinier the deeper you took him.

When you’d finally gotten into a good pace and you were in a good position between his legs you pressed your palms into his upper thighs and looked up at him as you pushed yourself down until his long cock grazed the back of your throat. You moaned and swallowed and then forced yourself lower, his tip dragging into your tonsils and making you gag lightly.

Everything was wet. You were drooling and coughing as you kept your mouth wrapped around him. Sinking your mouth down on his cock over and over again had your eyes watering but you kept looking back up at him. Harry was moaning and gently bucking his hips upward as he kept his hands on the back of your head.

“Oh baby, just like that…” he breathed his words and kept his neck angled to watch everything you did. He loved seeing you with his cock in his mouth. He preferred watching your pussy take him but this was right up there with his favorite views.

Harry’s abs clenched as he began to tremble and whimper, “Yes… yesyesyes…”

You could feel his thighs shaking under your hands as he pressed you down over his cock. You could taste his precome. He was right at the edge. His neck was straining as he kept his eyes on yours.

“Fuck… I’m coming!” He growled and you felt the pressure from his thick cock as it began to pulse in your mouth. His hand at the back of your head kept you down over him and you squeezed your eyes closed as he orgasmed down your throat.

You gurgled as you attempted to swallow every drop but it was difficult. Harry always came in big gushes. Swallowing what you could as his cock throbbed in your throat you moaned and blinked your eyes to look up at him as he let go of the back of your head. His head was back into the pillow, his chest was heaving, and his face flushed red.

Slowly dragging your lips up you swallowed again and licked upward as you lifted yourself off him. You put your palm back around his base and licked along his ridges and the skin as you peeked up at him. He groaned and lifted himself by his elbows, “Jesus Christ, Y/n. Fucking gonna kill me with that mouth,” he pulled at your hand and dragged you over him. You still had your outfit on. Normally Harry was the one still clothed while you were bare, but this time it felt good to have him be the one naked and panting after having just come from your mouth.

“Let’s go out and enjoy the city now!” You grinned as you kissed his mouth.

Walking hand in hand along the sidewalk was your favorite. You adored being able to stand on your tiptoes and give a quick kiss to his neck or his jaw right in front of people. Loved that not a single person looked at you like you were doing something wrong. Loved that no one knew who you were.

Dinner was at some spot you passed by that looked good. French. Like most of the other restaurants you saw. You and Harry sat right next to each other and shared your plates and kissed and talked. There wasn’t any space between you two as you ate. Harry’s arm was around you as you fed him bites from your fork and he did the same with you. A shared bottle of wine made you giggly and Harry kept kissing your hand and your cheek.

If you could have this with Harry all the time, then everything you’d face soon would be worth it. To have Harry was worth it regardless, but this? To kiss and touch and flirt in public was a dream.

You walked toward a park and made plans for the next day. You didn’t have much time to spend away with him before you had to be back but Saturday you had a full day with just the two of you together. You tried not thinking of what to expect on Sunday when you returned home. Tried not to imagine how it would be to face everyone with the truth once and for all.

So you pushed away all your anxiety and let Harry’s warmth comfort and calm you.

The sun went down at around 4:30 pm but you kept walking together hand in hand. Even Harry was thrilled to be out with you in public, “This is how it can be for us. I can’t wait to just not worry about anyone seeing us.”

You smiled and looked up at him, “I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier, Harry. I can’t believe how much I needed this.”

Harry put his arm around your shoulder to keep you closer as you both walked through the chilly streets back toward your hotel. It was still a bit early but you both agreed you were ready to head back. Wanted to cuddle and try out the jetted tub. You were also quite horny after giving Harry that blow job. He had tried to reciprocate but you wanted to go out and eat and explore first.

The inside of the hotel was warm and bright. And then you remembered the cocktail bar as you walked toward the stairs toward your room, “Let’s get a cocktail!” You looked up at Harry.

He nodded, “Of course. Anything you want my love.”

You both were seated quickly and given menus. Sitting close to Harry’s side you leaned into him and kissed his chest as you looked down at the menu.

“This one sounds good,” you pointed at a cocktail on the menu called Zelda and Harry ordered you both one.

“I should have brushed up on my French a little. I feel so dumb trying to figure out what most of the words are,” you laughed as you looked down at the menu with the cocktails.

Harry chuckled and you both clinked your glasses together when he lifted his up to yours, “Here’s to us. To happiness. To love. To whatever may come,” he softly smiled as you both sipped your drink.

“To us,” you took another quick sip before sitting your glass down and leaning up to kiss his mouth.

Harry had his glass placed down and he cupped your face, kissing you back slowly.

Normally you weren’t into PDA. But being in Quebec with Harry made you feel invisible. You didn’t care if anyone saw you kissing or not. No one cared and that was the part that made you feel so giddy and free.

The check was paid and you and Harry found yourselves in your room all before 7pm.

“My sweet girl,” Harry drew your body into his and wrapped his arms around you in a big hug, “I’m so happy with you. I hope you know that.”

You smiled and nodded into his chest as you tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m so happy with you too, Harry. No matter what.”

The bed was still a bit crumpled from your earlier activities as Harry pulled the blankets down and pushed you into the bed. He kept his eyes on yours as he pulled your pants down your legs and you grinned as he smoothed his chilled palms over your bare limbs, “Cold!”

Harry huffed and pushed himself over you, attaching his lips to yours so your back hit the mattress, “Then let’s warm ‘em up.”

Harry had you naked on the bed under him as he pushed your legs apart and took his shirt off with a smirk, “Might get messy,” he said as he lowered himself and licked upward through your crease a few times, pressing over your clit and then going back down to lick from your entrance upward.

It was a funny thing how you already knew he was going to eat you out first thing. You knew Harry well. He didn’t like to be the only one to get off. It took a lot of convincing to have him drop it earlier when you insisted on going out after giving him head.

So you were certain that once you got into your room that Harry would be doing exactly what he was.

You sighed and smiled as you laid your head back on the pillow. Harry’s mouth always worked wonders on your pussy. He was simply the best. He was eager and skilled and he loved getting you off. Honestly, everything about Harry was something you’d have loved to brag to all your friends about. Make them all jealous with how good he was in bed, how hot his body was, how sweet he was with you, how big his cock was…

But you’d never once been able to tell anyone about him. You’d not been able to share about how you had the most amazing boyfriend with the biggest heart who was also great in bed.

“Ahh!” you cried when Harry inserted two fingers into your weepy hole. You were turned on and ready for him before you’d even gotten to your room. So it didn’t take much to have you gasping and writhing against Harry’s mouth.

His deep moans vibrated into your core and belly button. You moaned and stuffed your fingers into his hair, “I need you, Harry…”

Harry looked up at you and your perked nipples and your wiggly hips. He sucked your clit in and pressed his fingers into you deeply, stroking your insides fervently.

Everything sounded wet. Harry’s slurps and your drippy cunt with fingers stuffed deep inside gushed.

“I need you too, baby. Fucking so good for me aren’t you?” He spoke against your pussy, his lips brushing over your clit as he continued fucking into you with his long fingers.

Harry reached his free hand up to grab your hand and slid his fingers between yours. Somehow having your hand in his as he ate you out and fingered you had you tipping into your orgasm quickly. You began to quiver and moan loudly, “Oooh!”

Harry looked up at you as he licked and flicked his tongue around your clit slowly. You moaned and ground your cunt into his face and against his fingers as you began to come. Your muscles tensed and Harry continued stroking along your walls as he enveloped your clit with his whole mouth.

You felt like you were floating as you orgasmed and whimpered into the room. You tilted your neck back and closed your eyes as Harry’s fingers tightened around yours. You pulled at his hair and gasped.

When he drew his mouth away from between your legs you lifted your head to look at him. He climbed up and lay next to you.

His warm body next to yours was a comfort. You closed your eyes and felt his hand graze over your skin, from your hips to your breasts and over your arms. You sighed and turned toward him with a big smile.

“Gonna keep all your clothes on?” You plucked at his shirt.

“I’ll get ‘em off. Don’t worry. Need me naked?” Harry huffed a laugh.

You shook your head, “I don’t NEED you naked.” You laughed, “But it’s probably more comfortable for you,” you pulled at one of the buttons on his shirt and loosened it from its spot before working your way down to the next one.

Harry watched you slowly unbutton him.

He eventually rolled to his back and put his hands behind his head as you got him nearly all undressed. Shirt unbuttoned, pants undone. You sat up to your knees and tried yanking his pants down but with the way he was lying on his back, it was hard.

Harry laughed as he watched you struggle, “Need some help?”

“Well, if you want your clothes off you have to lift your hips,” you patted his over his low tummy as you sat over him.

Harry reached up to cup your breast and thumb over your nipple softly, “I guess I should listen to the naked girl then shouldn’t I?”

You laughed and yanked at his pants again, this time Harry lifted his bottom up, arching his back so you were able to pull them down and finally pull them off his legs. Harry sat up and shrugged his shirt off and once he was finally free of all his clothes he pulled you down into the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You smiled and stuffed your face into his chest with a sigh. You felt a blanket cover your body suddenly and opened your eyes, tilting your head back to look up at your handsome man.

He kissed your nose and somehow you found sleep very quickly. It was still early and you’d imagined that you two would stay up having sex and watching TV but clearly, you both were exhausted from travel.

You woke up to Harry moving behind you, his hands traveling over your tits and his nose tucked into your neck. He was solid and poking into your bottom from behind.

You moaned and stretched your legs and then you heard Harry’s voice, “Sweet girl…” his lips kissed at your neck and you closed your eyes.

Reaching behind yourself you found the back of Harry’s neck and moved your head to look behind yourself but everything was hard to see in the dark. Harry grunted and his fingers gripped onto your hips as he rocked into you, his dick fitting between your cheeks.

The longer Harry’s lips were on your neck and his hard cock rubbed into your ass the more turned on you got. You felt his fingers find your cunt and he pulled your hips, angling you for his access. He stuffed a finger inside of you and that’s when you realized you were already wet.

Everything was slow and lazy. You barely had your eyes opened as you pushed yourself back onto his finger and moaned.

He lifted your thigh and slid his leg between yours to keep your legs parted as he fingered you and then rubbed over your clit slowly. You could feel his heavy cock nudging into you where his fingers were so you spread your legs further and moved his hand away before guiding his cock inside of you.

He pressed in until his hips were against your ass and he reached over you to place his fingers on your clit.

Your back was leaned into his chest as he fucked into you. His breathing was heavy and his pace grew more frantic when he began to kiss your neck again. You weren’t sure you could come but you were certainly turned on and everything he did felt so good. His big cock slipping into your walls made you ache and clench.

“Fuck…” Harry groaned deeply, “M’gonna come.”

You knew Harry would burst quickly just by the way he was breathing and moving. He was shaky and moaning and he must have woken up horny as hell.

“Come inside of me,” you whispered in a moan. He was already throbbing when you said it and then you felt his muscles tighten as he jerked his hips upward, holding your hip as he pumped into you with a soft groan in your ear.

You loved the feel of his cock throbbing and emptying inside of your pussy. You cooed at him as he orgasmed and trembled behind you.

When he finally slackened his hold on your hip you placed your hand over his and pulled it up to your mouth to kiss.

He sighed and snuggled in closer to you and that’s how you fell asleep. With his cock still inside of you and filled with his come.

You made a mental note to buy some cranberry juice and pee first thing when you woke up.

And you did order cranberry juice when you two finally made it to a small café for breakfast. But you didn’t pee first thing because Harry was fucking you again before you’d even gotten out of bed.

He woke you up much in the same way he did in the middle of the night with his lips at your neck and his hard prick poking into your rear.

Except this time he wanted to make sure you came. He had you on all fours, rubbing your clit with your face smushed into the blanket. He told you he was fucking his come from earlier back into your pussy and kept moaning at how pretty it was. And you could hear it. Things were absolutely drenched. You knew it must have been a sight because he kept having to pull out before he’d come too fast, “Need you to come this time, baby,” he spoke against your shoulder blades as he rocked his hips into the air to calm himself down.

You adored how attentive he was with you and how he always wanted you to come, but you kind of liked how he fucked you and came inside of you so fast in the night. There was something so primal and needy about it. So dirty and rude. He woke up horny, fucked your hole, and poured into you before falling back asleep without having you come.

But he insisted on your orgasm once morning came and so who were you to deny him? With your pussy already full of his come he had you pulsing and shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm. Soft moans into the blanket as his fingers spread over your clit worked you to your end before he finally grunted deeply and pounded himself into you until your tummy was flat on the mattress and he was finishing inside of you once again, cock twitching and leaking into you.      

The café where you wound up was in the Petite-Champlain neighborhood. There were a lot of people walking through the cobblestone streets as you and Harry sipped your coffee and enjoyed croissants with jam. And that cranberry juice for yourself just in case.

Then you both took the funicular up to Cap Diamont where you had really great views of Quebec City. Lunch was at a little bistro in the Old Quebec area. But really, most of your day entailed walking together and kissing on park benches. You and Harry had bundled up again and found yourselves buying hot chocolate and tea to keep warm outside.

But as chilly as it was, you were having the time of your life doing almost nothing. With Harry, it felt like you were in a romance movie or something. Strolling through old streets and stopping into little shops and making out against the brick buildings as people walked past.

When you two got to a large park and walked around the garden you sat on a bench and held hands.

“I’d have a baby with you,” you blurted out as you watched a woman and her husband push an expensive-looking stroller in front of them.

Harry turned and looked at you in surprise, “Yeah? Have you been thinking about it?”

You nodded and leaned your head onto his shoulder, “A little. I mean… I want kids so. I don’t think there’s anyone else I’m going to want to have kids with. Other than you.”

Harry kissed the top of your head and stayed silent for a bit. You knew that he teased you often about giving you his babies but felt this was something that needed to be said before you two were in it truly for the long haul. You wanted kids one day. And you saw yourself with Harry.

He pulled you closer, his arm around your back, and finally spoke, “Then I’ll give you babies if that’s what you want. Would love to see you pregnant.”

You laughed and looked up at him, “You’ve said that a time or two.”

He grinned, “Yeah. Something about getting you knocked up makes me lose my mind a little. Wanna go try for it now?”

You both laughed as you sat up, “I need to get my implant removed. And… let’s wait until after everyone knows. Because then we’ll have a better idea of what to expect. But yeah. I want your babies.”

Harry swallowed harshly and you saw his throat bob as he licked his lips, “I’m gonna be thinking about this all day now. Got me half hard just mentioning it.”

You sputtered out a giggle, “Really? Just saying I’d let you get me pregnant has you turned on?”

He nodded and inhaled a deep breath as he looked out over the park toward the monument, “Certainly does.”

And after that conversation, Harry was only even more touchy, feely with you. He was gentle and warm and he kept looking at you in a way that made you tingle and heat up. You knew what he was thinking.

He’d made dinner reservations for you two at a nice restaurant later on. The sun had begun to go down and you two were still enjoying your magic little day together as you made your way to the dinner spot.

The place looked old and beautiful. You felt very underdressed but you were both seated anyway. You’d been outside all day exploring the city and you hadn’t gotten back to your room to change.

Harry took your hand and squeezed, “Don’t worry about how you’re dressed. No one cares. See?” He looked around the dining room and you nodded with a smile.

A glass of wine made you feel a lot better. And then the food was brought out and you nearly forgot about everyone else in the room altogether.

You both had your cell phones on airplane mode. Harry used a downloaded map to help you get around but you both didn’t want to see any phone calls or notifications from anyone. You did have to connect to wifi that morning to text your boss that you were going to be off that day, but you quickly put it back into airplane mode when you noticed a few more missed texts. One even from your mother. You’d worry about all that the following night.

Dessert was crème brulé which you shared with Harry. He was feeding you with his spoon and you both were laughing at the mess he was making, “I’m gonna settle up. Go into the bathroom and wait for me,” he looked at you with a serious yet thoughtful expression and you laughed.

“Why?”

“Do as I say,” he raised a brow at you as he leaned forward to pull out his wallet. You rolled your eyes and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know what you’re planning but I doubt there’s a spot for any fooling around.”

Harry sighed and nodded at your waiter before turning to face you, “There is. Go check. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You couldn’t believe him. He couldn’t even wait thirty minutes before you’d get back to your room but you were quite excited to learn what he had in mind. You trusted Harry so you’d play along.

The hallway off the main dining room had four separate rooms for a bathroom. It was then you realized that each room was a single room with a toilet and sink. The one at the end had a bench so that was your choice. You grinned as you looked both ways down the hall and stepped in. The room was lowly lit and as your eyes took in the small space you figured the bench could work. Or you could lean into the sink and vanity.

Moments later there was a knock and the door opened. Harry stepped in and locked the door and his hands found your hips and his mouth covered yours. You laughed into the kiss but he was absolutely serious as he pushed you against the sink and moaned into your mouth.

“Gonna imagine I’m getting you pregnant every time I fuck you now, you realize that?” Harry spoke quietly in his deep voice as he unbuckled his belt quickly.

“Yeah? Is that what we’re doing here? You couldn’t wait to get me in bed, Mr. Styles?”

Harry licked his lips and roughly lifted up your dress, “You shouldn’t have told me you wanted my babies if you didn’t want me to fuck you in a public bathroom,” Harry’s hands slid your panties down to your thighs and he turned you to face the mirror.

You bit your tongue as he manhandled you and kneaded your bottom in his hands, “I already paid so you can be loud too, baby,” he looked at you through the mirror and put his hand next to yours on the stone counter of the sink as you felt his hot tip tracing up and down your slit, “let everyone know who’s fucking you like you need.”

You were like a different person suddenly. It had never occurred to you to do something like what was just about to happen. But you wanted it. Harry’s sudden demeanor was dominant and possessive and it felt kinky. You surprised yourself how much you were into it.

You dropped your mouth open and kept your eyes on his through the mirror as you pushed back into him and he met you with a hefty thrust, pushing himself in past your muscle and you hissed at the sudden stretch.

Harry’s eyes were dark and he looked possessed as he looked down to your pussy wrapped around him. He tried being gentle at first. Worked himself into you slowly but when you spread your legs and lowered your torso over the sink so he could have more access he groaned and used his free hand to pull one of your cheeks so he could watch as he disappeared into you completely.

“Yes! Fuck!” You moaned as he drew himself back and jerked his hips forward into you swiftly.

Harry kept one hand on the sink to steady himself as he began to pound into you. Your body was shoved upward into the counter over and over again as he rocked into you.

You lifted your neck to peek up at him through the mirror and felt a wash of heat over your back at how gorgeous he was, how much he was enjoying your body. When he caught your eyes on him he leaned over your back and worked himself into you with deep thrusts, the front of his strong thighs pasted to the back of yours.

“When you get pregnant everyone’s gonna know who’s fucking you. Gonna know who did it to you.”

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you moaned. You loved the idea of everyone knowing that he was the one who had your tummy growing.

Harry rolled his hips into you forcefully and he grunted at each plunge. When he lowered a hand to your front he found your clit and continued wrecking your insides as he slid his fingers over your button.

You gasped and watched Harry’s eyes in the mirror as he began to grow flushed.

You moaned his name quietly.

“Louder. Say it louder.”

You began to tremble as you moaned his name louder.

It wasn’t like you really needed to loudly moan for anyone to know what was happening in that bathroom. Harry’s pounding into you was certainly heard in the hallway and the counter under your torso was banging into the wall with a loud thud in time with his thrusts.

When you began to feel the vibrations of your clit throbbing and your orgasm winding its way from your center you cried in a pathetic whimper as you were pushed upward over and over again.

“Coming on my cock? Yeah? Feels good little girl?” Harry’s words were spoken through gritted teeth and heavy pants as he knocked himself into you.

You wailed and gasped. Harry was working himself into you sharply as you spasmed around him in delirium. You had never had sex in public and while you knew you might have been overhead a time or two, this was different and it had you intoxicated with him. You loved it.

He had been so worked up when you told him you wanted him to get you pregnant and this was the result. He couldn’t do enough to show everyone you were his. His carnal caveman self wanted so badly to fuck you into oblivion right in front of everyone and get you pregnant so no one could mistake who you belonged to. They could watch it with their own eyes. Of course, since Harry was a modern gentleman, he settled for railing you in the bathroom of a nice little French restaurant in Quebec instead. It would have to do.

You hadn’t even noted Harry’s orgasm at all. You heard him moaning and felt his fingers on your clit but you must have been in a different dimension because suddenly you caught your breath and Harry was cleaning you up and whispering how much he loved you and needed you.

“You know I’ll take care of you, baby… everything will be so good, I promise you…”

The exit was slightly awkward, to put it mildly. You and Harry briskly walked (well, you wobbled a bit) out of the front door and figured you’d never be back at that little restaurant anyway. Harry kept telling you to just look at his face and ignore everyone who watched as you passed through the tables and then the maître d' before finally finding yourself outside.

It had started to drizzle lightly and your jacket didn’t have a hood so Harry pulled his jacket off and draped it over both of you so you could walk back to your hotel without getting too wet.

You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his middle with a grin, “I love you, Harry.”

He looked down at you under his coat and quirked his lips up in a cheeky smile. His cheeks were still flushed and he just looked like a man who had a secret that no one knew. No one except you of course. A secret shared between you two that no one was in on.

Yet.

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[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 

“Almost,” you smiled. 

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 

“It’s already done?” he asked. 

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 

“You live here?” he asked. 

“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 

“And so that’s how you know French?” 

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 

“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 

You ignored his response and continued, 

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 

—

A few years later… 

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 

“A month,” House said. 

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 

The man looked at James strangely before saying. 

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 

“Hmm.” 

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 

“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 

“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 

“That would be correct,” you smiled. 

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 

“We did?” James raised a brow. 

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 

James shook his head, 

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 

James put down his glass and nodded his head. 

“They are okay with it, right?” 

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 

“Nah,” he waved his hand. 

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 

“So there’s someone-?” 

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 

“You noticed?” he asked. 

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.” 

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 

“Hey James, are you okay?” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 

“What did you pick?” James asked. 

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 

“Now hush and let me read.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 

You had heart-eyes. 

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 

“Y-You would’ve said something?” 

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin