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rkived · 4 years

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year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Can’t Find My Way Home

Written for @jensengirl83‘s 1k challenge--a thousand congrats to you, sweets, although it sounds like you’re going to need to come up with a new challenge shortly!! I picked the song Can’t Find My Way Home by Blind Faith (which I’ve always loved and was so excited to snag 😋). Thanks in advance for reading, and as always, I would love any advice or critiques!

Title: Can’t Find My Way Home

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1068

Summary: When Dean’s spiraling after a fight with the reader, somebody must change.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, ~*mutual pining idiots*~

…please leave your message after the tone.

The last moment to hesitate swells and passes with Dean’s breath in the half second it takes to hear the beep and he lets it. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, talking to me like that,” he starts, focusing hard to keep his tongue from muddying the words together. “After ever—after everything I’ve fucking done for you, everything I fucking gave up for you, for you to—to—whatever, man. If you ever gave a fuck about me, do me a favor and don’t run to Sam so I can tell him myself.”

He tosses the phone to the backseat without checking if the message went through. Flicking the collar of his jacket back up, he opens the car door, ready to patch over it with a few more doubles of cheap scotch or the bartender who’s been telegraphing her interest all night.

The phone rings.

Answering the late night check-in is a reflex, muscle memory keeping Dean from checking the caller ID. “I’m fine, Sam. Sleeping out tonight, see you tomorrow.”

“Where are you?” It’s less question than statement of intent, your voice a fraction rough and Dean’s immediate need to know whether it’s from sleep or crying pisses him off more than anything. Your voice is quiet but firm, unwilling to rise to the message’s bait.

“The fuck do you care?” he hisses. Your silence on the other end of the line is extremely unsatisfying—he wants to fight, wants to yell a few fuck yous at each other, not look inside himself for even one second, and the fact that you won’t give him that should by all accounts be making him more mad at you. He wants to be mad, tries to gather up everything into a slippery fist and twist it into something icy but he can’t. His jaw sets hard against the tightness in his chest.

“Where are you.” Not even a quarter step of rise at the end of the sentence, not even pretending now.

“You’re not coming here,” he says, and immediately knows it’s a tactical error no matter how fucked up he is. Showed his cards too fast, shouldn’t have been the first one to fold on his opening gambit, but it’s too late now. And fuck you for holding onto the silence as you wait him out again.

“Where. Are. You.”

“If you called me to play fucking Pocket Repeat—”

“Just—can you—just please don’t drive, okay?”

Dean doesn’t have to put on the snap of offense in his tone as he scoffs. “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”

“Dean—” you groan.

“Save it.”

The phone stays in the backseat when he goes back into the bar.

You breathe more than a shallow sigh of relief in spite of yourself when you find Dean alone in the Impala’s backseat over an hour later. His arms are crossed tight over his chest and one ankle covers the other, boots resting gently on the glass. Making sure you’re as clearly visible as possible and taking a deep breath to settle your nerves, you give two quick raps on the window.

Dean’s eyes fly open without any other movement in a way that betrays he wasn’t asleep. He holds your gaze rock-steady for a moment before leaning forward and unlocking the door.

Driving around dark parking lots with a brooding mix of anger and anxiety, you’d run through all kinds of impossibly cutting and true things you could say, and even some placating apologies. Now, slowly crawling into the backseat you’d sat in hundreds of times, your mind goes completely blank—it feels like being put under a trance for the way you’re moving almost purely on viscous tangled emotion across the leather to your best-friend-arrogant-asshole-how-dare-I-speak-to-you-like-that-how-dare-you-speak-to-me-like-that, too close into his space and Dean takes a sharp inhale through his nose, his eyebrows quirk up just a hair but he only draws back a half centimeter in surprise, doesn’t jerk away.

You pause for a beat when you’re close enough to feel the heat of his breath on your lip, waiting for that jerk away. It’s all he would have to do. Just jerk away, show you that’s not it and make fun of you mercilessly for a couple weeks—let that one thing get back to normal.

He doesn’t move.

He doesn’t move and you do, close the distance between you and Dean in that backseat like stupid, fumbling teenagers, delicate skin of your lips just barely grazing his. He’s a statue pressed up to his elbows on the bench seat with you hovering above him. Your pulse is loud enough in your ears you think Dean must be able to hear it and somehow when you deepen the kiss that scotch and chapstick taste has already existed in your memory, it’s just that you’re finally able to place it.

You might’ve thought—if you were able to think at all—that he would’ve kissed you back forcefully, proving a point and slicing through tension one of the best ways Dean Winchester knows how, but it’s so soft. So soft, barely there and he’s slipping his night-chilled fingertips along the back of your neck, into your hair and then it’s so gentle it hurts; you want him to be rough, want to be able to go back thirty seconds and select the Keep Fighting With Dean option because it’s all too much what the fuck are you doing. A deeper part of you knows that this is the only possible next step.

Doesn’t make it any less terrifying. You tilt your head back just enough to catch Dean’s eyes and it’s more hopeful than anything, begging for everything to be good.

Dean’s only barely able to believe this is happening, beautiful psychotic thing he’s never given himself permission to think about suddenly all that makes sense. When you draw back he can feel the open brightness in his eyes but can’t do anything about it, exposed and skinless beneath you, rubbed raw with the beginnings of a hangover already licking at his heels and completely at a loss for anything to say in a way he so infrequently is. He watches your lips part and close, bracing himself for a thousand possibilities about to come out of your mouth.

“Can we go home?” you breathe, and it’s all Dean can do to nod carefully as you ease back off of him.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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maastrash · 3 years

Note

Person A and Person B are friends and neither of them have a date for Valentine’s Day, so they decide to order takeout of some kind and watch a movie together. At some point, hidden feelings are revealed. umm elorcan, obvi, because i am nothing if not predictable 🤪

isa... babe... i swear i actually did start writing this around Valentine's day... but... i am CLEARLY a mess.... please accept my VERY late elorcan present 😳

Valentine's Day Confessions

a/n: surprise i am alive ;)

Elide cursed as she grabbed the steaming hot popcorn bag from the microwave. The decadent buttery scent filled her cozy apartment as she poured it into her favorite mixing bowl. She was about to pour in the m&m’s when she remembered who exactly was joining her tonight - Lorcan. And her friend was not a fan of chocolate. If you asked her, the man simply had no taste.

It was Valentine’s Day and the pair had decided to have a singles awareness celebration. Since their entire friend group was filled with couples they were each other’s only source of company on this dreaded day. Truthfully, Elide despised Valentine’s day. Seeing countless couple posts on Instagram and stupid lovey-dovey shit everywhere only made her more bitter. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in a long time - too long. If she was being honest, she had always thought Lorcan would make a move on her one day. Though at this point, it had been years of banter and flirting with absolutely nothing else, so she had pretty much lost all hope. She would just have to accept that she would forever be in the friend zone, but of course, that was easier said than done.

She settled into the couch with her favorite stuffed animal when the doorbell rang. Lorcan, she assumed.

“It’s open,” she called.

“Elide, I could have been a killer,” Lorcan chastised as he took off his leather jacket and shoes at the front.”

“What killer rings the doorbell?” she shot back.

“Ok fair point,” he said, quickly settling down next to her.

“What do you wanna watch?” she asked, turning to Netflix.

Lorcan shrugged, “Your house your rules El.”

“Lorcan,” she grumbled. “You know I’m too indecisive for this.”

He had the audacity to laugh at her misery, “I know, but it’s funny watching you struggle.”

“I already know no romance movies. I’ve already seen enough lovey Snapchat stories to last a lifetime.”

“Agreed. Did you see all the shit Rowan and Aelin have been posting?” Lorcan asked with a laugh.

Elide laughed too. “Can’t be worse than Lysandra and Aedion.”

Maybe they were just cynical because they were both single, but at the moment Elide didn’t care. It was fun to joke around with Lorcan.

“Let’s watch an action movie then,” Lorcan suggested.

“John wick?” Elide asked, already clicking play.

Lorcan smiled, “Sounds like a plan.”

The movie had barely begun before Lorcan was shifting his massive frame to lay down, placing his head on Elide’s lap.

"Lorcan," she groaned. “You’re heavy as fuck.”

He mockingly gasped, “I’ll have you know I’m on a diet Elide Lochan.”

“It’s your absurd height, stupid,” she whacked him, but he was laughing the whole time.

“You’re warm,” Lorcan whined, sounding much like the five-year-olds that Elide taught every day.

“I have blankets right over there,” she said, gesturing to the basket overflowing with various throws.

Lorcan only stretched his legs out and adjusted himself on her lap. “If you don’t get up I’m gonna sit over there,” she said motioning to the new armchair she recently bought.

“When did you get that?” he asked, finally speaking.

“A few days ago because you literally take up the whole couch when we hang out.” She actually got it for decoration, but bantering with Lorcan was entertaining.

“You’re dramatic Lochan.”

“I’m dramatic?” Elide asked, as she stood. “I’ll show you dramatic.”

She walked to the armchair and plopped down crossing her arms and legs.

She was about to add another dramatic remark, but before she could she felt the chair give way. Suddenly, she was on the floor.

“Ouch,” she mumbled, once she registered the pain she felt on her ass.

“Elide, are you okay?” Lorcan asked, making his way over.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she muttered. “But I am never buying Ikea furniture again.”

In all honesty, it was probably her faulty building skills, but she was not going to admit that at the moment.

She tried to stand but pain shot up her ankle. She had landed on it weirdly, due to her dramatic crossed leg position.

“Wait for me Lochan,” Lorcan said as he carefully picked her up bridal style from the ruins of what once was her armchair.

“I could’ve walked,” she said softly against his chest.

That made Lorcan chuckle. “You were barely standing, El. You would have hobbled at best,” he said gently, placing her on the couch. "Let me get some ice. Your ankle already looks pretty swollen."

“I think it's just aggravated. Old wound,” she tried to say it with a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

Lorcan’s eyes softened in understanding. “Ice won’t hurt though.”

Elide nodded and Lorcan took to the kitchen freezer in search of ice. He returned moments later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped haphazardly in a paper towel. He helped situate her ankle on a pillow so it was elevated and gingerly placed the bag on top.

“Shit that’s cold,” Elide couldn’t help but hiss.

Lorcan laughed softly and Elide smiled. Lorcan’s laugh was one of her favorite sounds. It was rare to see him smile and laugh openly when they were with their other friends, but when it was just them she saw it more often. She liked to think that it was because he was comfortable enough with her to show the real Lorcan.

“That’s the point, Lochan.”

“Get us some drinks, Salveterre,” she chuckled. “There is no better medicine than alcohol.”

“Whatever you say, boss,”

“I have a bottle of wine on the top shelf,” Elide called when she heard Lorcan rustling around.

“Got it,” Lorcan said, returning with a cup of wine. A cup.

“I was too lazy to find the glass,” he said in response to the look she gave him.

Elide stuck her tongue out at him before accepting the cup. “Let’s drink every time Keanu Reeves shoots someone,” she suggested.

“Elide, I think you would throw up if we did that.”

Elide rolled her eyes, “I’m not as much of a lightweight as I was in college, Lorcan.”

He raised a brow at her statement. “We’ll see about that."

As he expected, it had barely been 20 minutes, and Elide was already a giggling mess.

It only took 10 more for her head to fall on Lorcan’s shoulder.

And after another 10 minutes, Elide was onto the honesty.

She had hung out with Lorcan one on one many times, but nothing as intimate as a movie night on Valentine’s day where they were practically cuddling.

“Ok Salveterre truth or dare,” Elide slurred, turning to look at him.

“Elide the movie isn’t over yet,” he said pointing to the screen.

Elide gave him a look and paused the movie, “I’m too drunk to pay attention, plus we’ve watched this movie like five times,”

“Fine,” He laughed, giving in, “I say dare.”

“I dare you,” she said, poking him in the chest, “To kiss me.”

Lorcan almost spit out his wine. “Elide, you are way too drunk to be saying things like that.”

“I’m serious,” she said, setting her wine cup down for emphasis.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I met you, but you clearly only want to be friends.”

“Elide -”

“I know I’m not your type,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s fine, we can forget about this and blame it on the alcohol. It doesn’t have to be weird between us.”

She felt his hands on her chin, tilting it so they made eye contact.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I met you too. Elide Lochan, you are smart, kind, and pretty much out of my league in every single way. ”

She felt her cheeks flush at his admission. “Please just kiss me already, Salvettere.”

Without another word, his lips were on hers. Soft and sweet, a perfect first kiss, but she wanted more. She kissed him harder and opened her mouth. He took the hint, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. He pulled her closer, her heart was beating wildly against his.

Elide shifted so she was straddling his lap. She grinded against him and let herself get lost in the way he felt. The way he made her feel.

Lorcan shifted slightly as if he was going to lay her down. It would have been perfect, but Elide’s ankle turned too quick and she grimaced, breaking the kiss for a moment, but that’s all it took for Lorcan to pull back.

“Shit. Sorry, Lochan. I forgot about your ankle.”

“No I’m fine,” she panted breathlessly, trying to pull him back in.

“Maybe we should stop for tonight,” he said, brushing the hair from her eyes.

Elide grumbled, “stupid cock blocking ankle.”

Lorcan laughed again. “I can get you set up in your bed before I head out.”

Elide couldn’t help the pout, “Stay please?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his chest.

He smiled softly. “Anything for you, El.”

They readjusted on the couch so they were facing each other, this time cautious of Elide’s ankle. Lorcan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and Elide tucked herself closer to his side. It wasn’t long before both of them became drowsy thanks to the alcohol and their heartfelt confessions.

And as Elide began drifting off to sleep in Lorcan’s arms, she knew this is how she wanted to spend every night for the rest of her life.

Tags: @illyriangarbage // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @girlnovels // @julesherondalex // @ifangirlninja // @dreamerforever-5 // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @rhysanoodle // @jemma-nessian-and-elriel // @books-and-words-addict-blog // @nightinshadow // @wolffrising // @the-regal-warrior // @dreamingofalba // @abillionlittlepieces // @alitzeldiaz // @kylizzles // @queenmaas // @illyrian-bookworm // @aspillofstars // @b00kworm // @tswaney17 // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn // // @perseusannabeth // @sweetlyvillainous // @awesomelena555 // @notyournymphetish // @ladywitchling // @aesthetics-11 // @sjmships // @iammissstark // @illyrianwitchling13 // @moondancer-204 // @sjm-things // @foolsinlovex // @sayosdreams // @welcometothespeaknowworldtour // @stardelia // @julemmaes // @thewayshedreamed // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @keshavomit // @superspiritfestival // @wannawriteyouabook // @verryberriess // @courtofjurdan // @bookstantrash // @sannelovesreading // @ahappyhistorianreader // @cass-nes // @my-fan-side // @junsuichow // @sleeping-and-books // @yumna402 // @lordof-bloodshed // @emcarstairs578 // @gisellefigue08 // @maybekindasortaace // @starborn-faerie-queen // @empire-of-wildfire // @loveofbooksandwine // @sanakapoor // @silentquartz // @a-omgnaomithings-love // @aimee1602 // @jlinez // @creamcheesechicken // @steamedlattes // @sahsahprova // @elriel4life //

#elorcan #car answers #nalgenewhore #elorcan fic

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egcdeath · 3 years

Note

Since you said we can send in request😄 how about a bachelor party for Steve and reader. Full of fun and romance.

bottoms up

summary: steve tells you all about his wild bachelor party.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: excessive drinking, terrible decisions, fluff, basically a crack fic, i barely use dialogue tags in this so you’re just gonna have to guess who’s talking

author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble.

you can find my drabble masterlist here and my regular masterlist here <3

It had been a long, exhausting weekend of celebration. Of course, it was exhausting in the best way possible, but between the extensive spa days, bar hopping, and seeing more male strippers in one night than you'd seen in the entirety of your life, you were really looking forward to curling up in bed with your fiancée.

It seemed Steve was feeling similarly to you, as he was already pajama clad and sprawled across your bed by the time you arrived home.

You quickly freshened up and joined him on the mattress, slipping under your duvet and cuddling up to Steve.

“How was your weekend?” Steve asked, rubbing circles on your back.

“Exhausting. I could probably sleep for years.”

He chuckled softly at your statement, “well, don’t do that. Wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you over breakfast tomorrow. I don’t think I have the energy to come up with the words right now,” you aimlessly played with the hem of his shirt. “What about you guys? Why don’t you tell me a bachelor party bedtime story?”

“It was… a lot. I almost called you several times. Let’s just say that Sam... stopped me.”

“That bad, eh? Tell me everything,” you gushed.

“Well we were supposed to go camping. I don’t know who decided that was a good idea. Actually I do, it was Thor. It took about half an hour before Tony was starting arguments with everyone. I think he was getting moody about having to be in the outdoors away from all his tech, and something about how bachelor parties aren’t supposed to be like this. We didn’t even get to dinner before he insisted that we find a nice hotel to stay at for the night, and go to a club.”

“You guys don’t really seem like campers anyway. What happened after that?”

“I was getting there before you interrupted me.”

“There was a natural lull in your story.”

“Whatever. So we pack everything up and go back out to town. There was some boujee ass hotel Tony knew about and took us there, but there were no rooms. So he was like ‘make room’ and the staff told him that they would try but they just needed a minute. So Buck suggested that we go to the hotel bar, and we did. The only problem is that alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on some of us that it does with others, so Thor had to break out the Asgardian mead. And he had a lot of it.”

“Oh no, I feel like this is not going in a good direction.”

“You’re absolutely right, because one second I’m sitting in a hotel bar, and the next I was half conscious on a private jet.”

“Steve! You did not black out. That’s not very responsible of you.”

“I was peer pressured! Besides, I don’t think I did anything too bad. Did you not get super drunk for at least one night?”

You pondered the question for a moment, “hmm. Go on.”

“So I wake up on a private jet, not like a Quinjet, but like, a real plane. No idea where I am or where we’re going. Sam is the most sober among us by the time I’m awake, but still pretty drunk. Keep in mind I’m also a little out of it. I ask him where we’re going, and he told me Las Vegas. At this point I’m not surprised, but I want to call you to let you know that I’m no longer in New York, and I start to take my phone out of my pocket to call you, and he flips his shit. He grabs my phone and dunks it in a glass of water, and starts saying that if I use the phone on the flight, our flight will crash.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Now I’m phoneless, but I’m not really mad. Honestly, I thought it was funny in the moment. My memory’s a little blurry, but I feel like we laughed ‘till we landed.”

“Please tell me that the crazy events end here.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve chuckled.

“Christ, Steve.”

“So we get off the plane and at this point, I realize that Bruce must’ve left before we boarded. I don’t even blame him. This trip probably would’ve made me Hulk-out too. Anyway, we take an Uber to our hotel. Our poor Uber driver, he was so starstruck and excited to have Avengers in his car, but like, everyone was completely out of it. And to make things worse, Bucky threw up in the back.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. It’s only a matter of time before tabloids get ahold of that. Remind me to call our PR person in the morning.”

“Got it.”

“We finally get to this hotel, and I guess at some point while I was blacked out, Tony had booked us some penthouse suite at one of those really nice hotels. I can’t really remember how we got up there, but I know it was a struggle. I was just glad to be able to go to sleep in a real bed. By the time I wake up, I desperately need an Advil and a call home. Unfortunately, I can’t have either, since everyone starts insisting that the best way to beat a hangover is to drink more. To be fair, I slept in pretty late. So it’s kind of a reasonable time to drink now. If you consider time zone differences. That aside, I’m sipping on a beer when there’s a knock on the door-“

“I feel like I’ve heard enough of this story.”

“That’s fair.”

“But I’d also like to hear more. But this is stressing me out.”

“I made it back in one piece, what more do you want from me?”

“I want you to get a new friend group,” you whined.

“Is it bad that I want the same for myself?”

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Okay, so back to the knock on the door. I’m getting a little nervous, because I specifically told the guys no strippers. That was just a can of worms I didn’t want to open. And I think there’s gonna be a stripper at the door, but nope. Who opens the door? Fucking Loki. I don’t know why they came, or how they found us, but they were ready to party. Suffice it to say I do not remember the majority of that day. All I can say is that there was way too much gambling happening, and if I found out that Tony is filing for bankruptcy, I would not be surprised.”

“That is… wow.”

“I’ll give you one more thing before you go to sleep. Someone got married to a stranger. They’re gonna get it annulled but.. I did attend a wedding ceremony where an Elvis impersonator was the officiant,” Steve leaned over to his bedside table and turned off the lamp that was dimly illuminating the room. “Goodnight.”

“You are such an asshole! You don’t get to leave me on a cliffhanger like that.”

“I need you to be excited and engaged for when I finish my story tomorrow!”

“Fair,” you huffed and snuggled closer to your fiancée.

“Was it Sam?” you asked after a moment of silence.

Steve quietly laughed at you instead of responding.

“Nope. It was definitely Bucky. I’m right, right?” you pressed.

More silence from Steve.

“No way. Thor?”

His snickers became louder at this, and you gasped.

“I said I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“I don’t like when you keep secrets from me,” you prompted, trying to guilt trip your partner.

“Fine. It was Thor. But that’s all you’re getting from me for now.”

“Oh my god. Why wasn’t my bachelorette party as exciting as yours?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers drabble #chris evans x reader #neptune drabbles

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sproutsgcrden · 3 years

Text

sentinel of naruhata | chapter three

koichi's very bad, no good day

warnings: descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

previous chapter | masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send in an ask and let me know!

“So… you’re Haimawari Koichi, age 19, freshman at Hitonami College… I’ll just call you Koichi, then. Unless you like the sound of Nice Guy better.”

Izuku laughed at Haimawari’s sputtering reaction, clutching his stomach as he leaned back against the cool floor of Koichi’s little one-room apartment. After the incident with the return of those thugs, Izuku and Knuckleduster followed Koichi back to his home. Knuckleduster was determined to recruit the both of them, and Izuku just… didn’t have anywhere else to be. He was sure that Eraserhead was already done with patrol by the time their skirmish ended.

Luckily, Koichi didn’t seem to mind too much when Izuku mentioned dying his hair. He felt the black suited him nicely, even if it was still a little damp. He didn’t need Tomura or Kurogiri making a surprise appearance and immediately picking out his green curls from the crowd.

“Don’t go through my stuff, crazy old man!” Koichi reached over to grab his student I.D. and his wallet from Knuckleduster’s grasp.

The veteran vigilante ignored him as he turned to face Izuku. “And what should we call you, kid?”

“Izuku.” The young boy had stopped laughing, but he was still laying on the floor.

“What, no last name? Running away from home?”

“What’s it to you?”

Koichi leaned over him, glancing down with concerned eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to live off of the streets… No wonder you bought a weird amount of junk at the store.”

Izuku grimaced, sitting up and pushing the older kid out of his space. “I’m fine. Can we change subjects?”

Knuckleduster nodded, sending a small smirk Izuku’s way. “Okay. Why are you looking for Eraserhead?”

Koichi blinked, ignoring Izuku’s frustrated groan. “Who’s Eraserhead?”

“He’s an underground hero. He can erase quirks, barring any mutations, and he practically fights quirkless. He’s a badass.” Izuku was talking animatedly, moving his hands around wildly.

“Oh. Wait. Is he your dad?”

“Why would he be my father?!”

“You have the exact same quirk don’t you?”

Izuku slumped, flitting his gaze towards the floor. “It’s similar. I want him to train me how to be a hero. Plus I need his help with something, not that I’m gonna tell you losers what that is.”

Koichi let out an offended grunt while Knuckleduster heartily chuckled.

“Anyways. The two of you will be calling me Master.” Knuckleduster moved from the table to the small mini fridge in the corner of the room, opening it up to find it full of beer.

“Didn’t we tell you that we weren’t going to be your apprentices?” Koichi glared as the man opened a can of beer and began to chug it. “And would you get out already? This is my house!”

The old man ignored Koichi’s protests in favor of grabbing another can of beer. “The drug is called Trigger. It’s a quirk-booster; it also weakens the user’s ability to reason. Basically, this drug turns regular folk into instant villains.”

Izuku glared at the table, clenching his hands into tight fists. He knew all too well what Trigger was capable of. He shuddered as he dared to think what could happen if his father forced Tomura to take the drug. Japan would be completely decimated.

“So, why not just let the heroes do something about it? Or call the police.” Koichi let his head drop to the table, bored and frustrated at the fact that Knuckleduster was refusing to leave him alone.

Knuckleduster barked out a short laugh. “Ain’t gonna happen, kid. These pop-up villains on trigger can emerge from any crowd, at any time. Cops and heroes are always forced to play catch-up.”

“Oh. So they blend in with everyone else?”

“Exactly. And that’s where we come in!” Shocking the two boys into backing up, Knuckleduster hopped to his feet, hand clenched into a fist.

Izuku shook out of the state first, glaring at the older man. “Did you just say ‘we’?”

“That’s right, kid! The three of us are gonna go out, stop suspicious looking characters, and check their tongues!”

“Okay, even if we wanted to go with you, why are you allowing a nine-year old to accompany you? That seems pretty crazy to me.”

“Oh please. He’s more advanced in quirk usage and hand to hand than you, just based on last night. Plus, if he’s hiding from his parents, he’s got nothing else to do. He’s already a deviant in the law’s eyes.”

Izuku could do nothing but reluctantly nod his head at that.

“Trigger turns the user’s tongue black, so we’re gonna give those losers a beat down and make them spill the details on their dealer. That’s the only way to put an end to this whole drug trade.”

Koichi sweat dropped, shaking his head. “So you just want us to go around punching people?”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were just joking! What the hell, man!” Koichi screamed as he hung off of Knuckleduster’s left arm. Izuku laughed maniacally as he hung off of the vigilante’s neck. He was punching people with his right hand and checking their tongues.

Koichi could admit he was a great multitasker. But holy shit, this man was insane.

The three of them were causing quite the commotion; people were screaming and running away from a man carrying a college student and a little kid who was also throttling everyone he was in range of. It wouldn’t be too long before a hero showed up to stop whatever was happening.

In a desperate attempt to stop Knuckleduster’s shenanigans, Koichi called out to the group closest to them. “Please! Give us a peek at your tongues! Stick ‘em out a little and this will all be over!” The guy closest to them stuck out his, thankfully, normal looking tongue. Koichi tried not to be too offended when the man also flipped him off.

It was hard to hear over Izuku’s laughter, which only increased in volume after getting the finger, but Koichi’s ear perked up at the sound of boots hitting the metal above them. With a glance upwards, the hoodie-clad vigilante felt his eyes soften in relief. “Pop Step!”

“What the hell are you losers doing?” The pink haired idol-in-the-making jumped down to the ground as soon as Kunckleduster threw both Koichi and Izuku on a nearby bench. They landed harshly, Izuku’s laughter tapering off within an instant. Koichi immediately shook it off, and stalked over to a nearby vending machine, selecting a coffee for himself and a juice for Izuku.

“Why don’t you ask the old man? He was the one chasing after innocent bystanders like a lunatic.” Koichi mosied back over to the bench, tossing Izuku the juice as he plopped down beside him.

“I’m nine, not a toddler. What if I wanted a coffee?”

“If they cooperated, I wouldn’t have to look like a lunatic now would I?”

Koichi ignored the both of them as he opened his coffee, taking a well-deserved sip after lowering his mask. He leaned his head back in a rare moment of reprieve, trying to block out the weirdness he somehow chose to surround himself with. He only blinked back into the present when Pop Step aggressively leaned on his arm.

“So you’re looking for junkies and dealers, huh?” Her thoughtful expression drooped into a grimace as she looked away from Knuckleduster. “Thanks for showing up last night, pops. Provided me with a distraction so I could slip away from that idiot.”

“Whatever.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?!”

Pop Step shrugged, stepping back and throwing her hands on her hips. “Why’s the runt still following you around?”

Izuku, who was absentmindedly sipping on the juice that Koichi had gotten him, slowly looked up at Pop Step with narrowed eyes. “I’m not following them. I’ve just got nowhere else to be at the moment and it’s entertaining to see these two create chaos.”

“Right… and that Eraserdude you were looking for?”

“I won’t even be able to start searching for him until night falls. I’m just passing the time.”

Pop blinked a few times before turning back to Koichi. “So, Nice Guy!”

“You can just call me Koichi.”

“Koichi? Is that your real name?” Pop Step hopped in place, her large grin very apparent. “Why are you going along with this, Koichi?

The college student paused, the can of coffee held up to his lips as if he was ready to take another sip. He slowly moved it down, allowing it to rest against his thigh instead. “I just… if I don’t keep an eye on the guy, he’ll beat up every last person on the streets.”

“Nah. I start with the most suspicious ones… like youngsters who can’t stop messing around.”

Koichi ignored the statement, along with Izuku’s snort, as he continued. “And who knows what kind of trouble the kid’ll get up to without a responsible adult nearby!”

“Responsible? Says the dude who’s only item in his fridge is a case of beer!”

“You all are morons!” Pop stomped her foot against the ground. “Going at it so randomly is never going to work. Why don’t you use your heads!!”

Koichi looked up at the girl from his spot on the bench, eyes blank in confusion. “Our heads?”

Pop Step rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bench and pulling out her phone. “Whenever a villain shows up, someone’s bound to snap a pic!”

“That’s right!” Izuku shot up, bringing his phone out as well. “The hero forums are always swimming with pictures of recent attacks.”

“All you need to do is refine the search to ‘unknown’ or ‘sudden’ villains. That’ll mean less legwork for you clowns!”

Koichi blinked, “That’s clever.”

“The photo search or calling you clowns?”

Izuku’s cackle rang out, echoing in Koichi’s ears as he glared at the girl sitting next to him. The three of them nearly missed it when Knuckleduster shot up from his seat in pursuit of a new target.

“Hey! Stick your tongue!”

“Oh, not this again!!” Koichi ran out in front of Knuckleduster, coming to the newcomer’s defense. “C’mon man, this guy is clearly just your average salaryman! He’s not even bothering anyone!”

In his rush to save the seemingly innocent man from getting punched in the face, Koichi barely came to a stop before nearly running into the newcomer. In shock, the man dropped his briefcase, crying out when hero themed action figures came tumbling out.

“See! I told you the guy was fishy! What kind of adult carries around dolls in a briefcase!”

Izuku and Pop Step had just caught up, exchanging concerned and bewildered looks. The young boy pulled his mask over his face and bent down to help the man pick up the toys.

“I- I’m sorry! I work at a toy company, these are just prototypes.”

“See! Nothing suspicious about that! He’s just a hardworking guy!” Koichi’s voice rang out as he tried to push Knuckleduster back.

The elder vigilante wasn’t having it, however, and pushed forward to grab onto the man’s lapel. “That’s what I’m trying to prove! So cooperate, or else.” His free hand cocked back, gloved fingers positioned into a tight fist.

Before Knuckleduster’s fist could land a hit on the poor businessman, a white cloth wrapped itself around his arm, effectively preventing his attack. Knuckleduster grunted as his arm was pulled back, and his eyes narrowed at the figure behind him. Izuku gasped, eyes widened as he took in the hero before them.

“Violent acts in full view of the public… you’re hardly a model citizen.” A gruff voice, harsh from sleep deprivation, sounded out from behind the group. Pop Step and Koichi backed up behind Izuku and Knuckleduster, shocked looks on their faces. “You must be one of those instant villains of late.”

Knuckleduster guffawed, “Hey kid! Looks like it’s your lucky day, huh?”

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, locking on to the young boy who seemed to be hyperventilating out of excitement.

Izuku’s green eyes sparkled in delight, holding his hands up in hopes of proving he wasn’t a threat. “You’re the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead! You lead the underground in both villain captures and civilian rescues, but you never stay long enough to actually gain any credit! Your fighting style is incredible! I always wondered if your capture weapon worked in tandem with your quirk- your hair floats when you use it, yeah? Does it negate small amounts of gravity near you? That would explain why your scarf seems to deny the laws of physics!” His voice carried on, causing those around him to stop and stare.

“Did you know the kid was so…”

“I’ve never heard him speak more than necessary. This is definitely new.”

Eraserhead was the first to snap out of the trance, tightening his grip on his capture weapon as he lowered himself into a battle stance. “I’m not sure how you got such vital information- I work very hard to make sure there isn’t much coverage on my exploits.”

Izuku nodded, standing in place. “There are only two clips I was able to find- but I’ve been looking for you for some time now! We’re not here to cause trouble, promise!”

“Either way, I’m off duty today. Just being a good samaritan.”

Knuckleduster grinned, turning to face the hero fully. “So we got that in common.”

Koichi backed away further, hands high in the air. “No way does he think we’re villains, right?”

“Hey, hey! Don’t lump me in with these guys!” Pop Step jumped, using her quirk to land a few yards backwards.

There was a tense moment of silence before disaster struck. Izuku, sensing trouble out of the corner of his eye, cursed as Knuckleduster rushed towards Eraserhead. The hero, now fully prepared for battle, dropped the sack he was holding. Cat food and jelly pouches flew out of the bag, bursting open against the hard pavement. Knuckleduster chose to go high, fist ready and aimed for Eraserhead’s face.

Izuku sighed, ignoring the shouts from Koichi and Pop Step as he jumped into the fray.

Yeah… this is the most idiotic thing he’s ever done.

#sprout's fics #bnha vigilantes fanfic #bnha vigilantes #bnha fics #koichi haimawari #midoriya izuku #kazuho haneyama #aizawa shouta #iwao oguro #the crawler #deku #pop step #knuckleduster #eraserhead #vigilante izuku #vigilante deku #izuku has afo #dad for one #afo is hisashi midoriya

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miyalove · 4 years

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⋆｡˚⁀➷ MY QUARANTINE.

⤷ pairing. bokuto koutoro x gn!reader

⤷ genre. tooth-aching fluffly fluff, best friends to lovers, college au

⤷ warnings. oc insert (jamine). mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, clichés upon clichés, bo just being the absolute CUTEST, *unedited

2.6k | with the virus on the rise again, you decide that a lonely valentines day seems like the safest option, but bokuto has other plans.

“can you believe we’re gonna have to spend this month in quarantine, again?” a high pitch whine echoes through your laptop speaker. when you look over, jasmine (a close friend of yours) is slumped over her desk chair glaring at her ceiling.

“shouldn’t be that hard, though.” you nod at what konoha says.

“that’s what i was thinking too,” you add in. on your laptop screen are flashes of familiar faces. each one of them smile back at you, doing their own thing as well as keeping up with the virtual conversation. akaashi scribbles into a notebook for one of his classes while he speaks, “we’ve been quarantine for a couple months already. what’s another going to add?”

it seems that you, akaashi, and konoha are the only ones that see eye to eye. you mentally debate in your head, nodding to his words. in the middle of your thoughts, a sharp whine cuts you out of it.

“yeah, but this is different!”

the sudden sound makes you jump. when you look back at the screen, bokuto’s face covers his side of the monitor. he’s up close to the camera so the most you can make out his is nose and big, piecing eyes. the weird angle makes you laugh.

“how is this so different, bokuto?” someone muses. you can’t focus on who though too caught up in the way your best friend whines to get everyone’s attention. it’s a cute habit that he hasn’t been able to break since middle school. for what it’s worth though, you think it just makes him all the more adorable.

“this is a month of going out and being in love, guys!” he moves frantically. big beefy arms flailing around to further prove his point. his his bottom lip guts out, mocking some sniffles. “quarantine’s just gonna make valentines die!”

“exactly what i’m saying!” jasmine pipes in again. she takes a big bit of her food before continuing her rant. as she speaks, a piece lettuce falls out of her mouth. across the screen, akaashi blatantly glares at her gross habits. konoha stifles a giggle and you can’t help but to join in on the teasing. seeing konoha’s body shake with silent laugher really got you.

your friend is unbothered by the giggles though.

“this is the month of love!” jasmine punctuates her statement with a loud slam to her desk. “we should be g-getting out and doing lovely dovely valentines day shit, right bo?!”

swiftly, bokuto springs back to life, shaking his head in agreeance. his eyes are wide and filled with stars. he moves way too fast for his camera to pick up so a good majority of the time he speaks, his figure is lagged with pixelated squares.

“jay get’s it! yeah, yeah!” his glitched out figure suddenly appears further in the back of his room now. his fully body is on display and pixelated or not, you can still make out the way his defined thighs flex while he moves. “you’re supposed to be out and doing all the cute couple stuff!”

“but what if--”

“--and even if we’re not a couple, you can still do things like that! there’s stuff like... platonic love.” the last few words get cut off but you’re able to connect the dots. the way bokuto so proudly voices his thoughts without any doubt is a trait you admire. he means what he says and he says what he means. it’s really as simple as that. if only you could do the same. your shoulders fall at the thought.

you quickly snap out of your funk though. you’re in a call with all your closest friends, they’d notice a change in your demeanor in seconds. shaking your head to rid of any lingering thoughts, you stifle out a cackle.

“well, platonic or not.” you perk up. “it still seems like a lonely valentines day is an order for everyone.”

your friends nod despite jasmine’s grumbling. you don’t notice the way bokuto sighs. his brows are scrunched and lips are pressed into a thin line. determination glows within his hues. he’s a little irate how everyone was shoving the topic aside, but most importantly, he’s a little sad that you’re going to have to spend this valentines day all alone!

he’s known you for years and the fact that you’re alright with spending the day of love all to yourself? when you have him right there with you just waiting for your call? it’s personally heartbreaking.

okay maybe he’s more than a little sad.

besides the constant buzzing from all your friends spamming the group chat. you spent most of your valentines lounging around your home, just like you had promised. your hair is loose, messy and untamed. it matches the outfit your wearing that’s just perfect for simply relaxing. during the morning, you made yourself a quick breakfast. in the afternoon, lunch and a nice bath was the agenda. now in the evening, you’re settled in your living room while netflix’s latest rom-com plays in the background.

you don’t really know what’s happening or who these characters are but today’s the day of love so why not celebrate it with a bottle of wine and imaging you and bokuto as the main leads of some stupid flick.

you’re in the middle of pouring another glass when your phone chimes with a special ringtone you set for someone special to you. it immediately catches your attention. you feel your heart shake and you know it’s not because of the alcohol.

the fluttering in your tummy seems to spread with the stupid nickname. you let the movie play in the background while you send him a quick response.

your phone chimes with another texts while barely had time to put it down.

before you can say anything back, a knock at the door interrupts your focus. mindlessly, you make your way to the door. when you open it, you expect to see someone (maybe even bokuto), but instead you’re meet with a big, bright red box sitting on your doormat.

with the bright red wrapping and the comically large bow right on top, you simply can’t miss it. the box is big enough where you have to hold it with two hands in fear of dropping it. it’s heavy too and when you shift it slightly, whatever’s inside rattles. to top it all off, there’s no label or tag or anything that indicates this package is specifically for you. your brows crinkle. confusion pressed deep within your worried frown.

your hues trace the halls of your complex looking for someone, anyone to explain this random comeuppance. you weren’t expecting any packages. so what is this all about? something inside you tells you to leave it alone. your mail man doesn’t deliver packages at 6 o’clock at night so it can’t be that. is it possible that this was misplaced? you would feel horrible if this was some kind of surprise for a lover and their partner had gotten the buildings wrong.

your phone vibrates in your pocket and for now, you decide to put the mystery package on hold. the special ringtone you set for a specific cutie makes your nerves jump in it’s confines. placing your glass down, the wine is long forgotten.

“hey, bo,” you great him with a smile once the call goes through.

“hey there, bun,” his grin falters a bit. it’s alarming how fast you can tell something is wrong. bokuto’s always been every expressive but still you’re able to read him like an open book in a matter of milliseconds. your connection goes as far as silent cues too. when he slumps his shoulders or pouts his lips during a test. he sighs differently when he’s shocked by wonder or sadness.

it’s the same with you to him. bokuto, despite popular belief, is so good at keeping up his friends cues. he’s able to read mood changes and tries his very best to cheer up the people he loves if he ever catches them slipping. he’ll even go as far as making a fool out of himself just to see that special person smile.

bokuto koutaro is a shining star and you’re beyond happy he’s in your reach.

“everything alright?” it’s a question that has him conflicted. you can tell from the whirl wind of emotions that were set off as you spoke. his brows are scrunched in concern, his bites at his bottom lip (which in any other case would be sexy), and most worrying, he’s not as cheery as usual. he seems tense and nervous.

“bokuto?”

“ahh!” it comes out as an anxious sigh, “i was just thinking, is all!” his hands shoot up in a defensive position. it doesn’t take him long to start explaining.

“i was calling ‘cause you said you’d be lonely today and i didn’t want ya’ feeling like you weren’t loved, (y/n),” he’s looking away now. golden hues finding the floor or ceiling far more interesting. one of his hands comes to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit you picked up on.

the way he shyly smiles, so unlike himself, makes your chest heavy. the rapid beating of your heart shakes your ribcage. i didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t loved. he loves you. your conclusion feeds into he butterfly wings that tickle your stomach. he’s so adorable. the way he looks at you makes you want to kiss that conflicted little pout right off his stupidly gorgeous face.

“that’s real sweet of you, kou.” you smile up at him. grabbing at the box, you tuck it under your arm as you make your way to your living room. when you seat down on the sofa, the light conversation with bokuto takes a turn.

“so...”

“so?”

he can’t help the light chuckle that escapes him. “did you... find anything on your porch today?”

“yes... actually.” cautiously, you eye the box that’s been propped up as a temporary phone stand. “was it from-”

“did you- did you open it?”

suddenly the last texts he sent makes sense now. the way he called you so shyly and played it off as best as possible. the nervous ticks that you don’t usually see when you talk. the glimpse of hope that maybe- just maybe, bokuto would come sweeping you off your feet this valentines day.

“not yet.” a bright teasing smile over takes your features as you say your next word, “why?”

on the other side of the screen, bokuto’s cheeks flare up. the redness traveling past his neck and nips at the tip of his ears. you’re not an idiot. if he was the one that knew the box was there- then of course, it’s from him. without second guessing, you shift your phone propping it against a lone candle centered on your coffee table.

you waste no time ripping into the wrapping paper and unboxing the goods inside. bokuto watches attentively. his eyes sparkle with excitement and a toothy grin takes over him as he leans towards the camera, trying his greatest to get the best angle possible. bokuto looks like a puppy excitedly waiting for their owner to come home. the anticipation is killing him.

shoving the tissues paper aside, you note the heart shaped confetti that the box is littered with. it’s a cute touch but the mess it’ll create as you take each item out has you holding back a laugh.

of course, bokuto notices. “what that all about?” you can see the upturn of his lips even without looking at him. it’s practically etched into your brain (and you wouldn’t have it any other way).

“what’s what all about?” you dust off your hands, the glitter sticking to anything and everything. another giggle escapes you while you try to confide the mess as best as possible.

“all that laughing!” he sulks out. in your peripheral, you see him pull a face. bottom lip gutting out and big golden hues growing impossibly bigger. “i wanna know what’s so fuuuunny!”

it’s too much. the way the box messes just like him. the way hearts are practically glowing within his iris. the way your heart trembles with each playful teasing, every kissable pout, and little shy glimmers. with every drawn out compliant and booming laughter that shakes your whole body. you just can’t keep a straight face with bokuto. no matter how hard you tried.

“i’m laughing at you, silly!” it’s a sudden response that has him bending over in a joyous fit of guffaw too. it’s the kind of laugh you hear from afar but know exactly who it is. each item you pull out, bokuto tells a small story about why he got it. despite knowing him for years, you hadn’t known how sentimental he was. the same memories you played on repeat so late at night where the same ones he dreamed about. the thought makes you beam impossibly brighter somehow feeling impossibly lighter.

you unwrap a bracelet with a paper plane charm on it. “for when you told me you wanted to travel the world!” he beams. “wherever you go, you can add a charm thingy to it!”

latching the jewelry, it’s a perfect fit. the metal tingles at your skin with how cold the metal is. it makes you thing of how warm bokuto’s hands are and how he’d gladly help warm you up. reaching in more, there’s a bag of all your favorite treats, gift cards to your favorite restaurants and boba shops. pairs upon pairs of fuzzy socks (”i know how cold you can get! so i wanted to do somethin about that!”) with cute little comics and characters on it. there’s candles with your favorite scents laced into the wax.

“oh my god. this is--” you’re speechless. “you’re amazing, kou. really this is just... amazing.”

it is in this moment, when the sun has finally set and low quality of the call perfectly captures his ethereal presence and beaming smile. the way pure admiration and warmth radiate off of him even through your phone screen makes you realize one thing. sure you’ve liked bokuto koutaro but... oh boy are you in for it now.

“amazing valentines for an amazing person.” you curse at the heat that spreads up your neck. he’s too sweet. too considerate. too... perfect.

rummaging through the wrapping, your hand hits one last thing in the box. you feel the petals first. it’s smooth under your touch. velvety with each on you pick at. the steam is the opposite, rough at the touch. some thorns hadn’t been cut properly so if you grabbed it fast enough, you would have gotten pricked.

“a single rose?” you eye the flower. the petals colored a fiery red that matches the way bokuto blushes.

“yeah! it’s nice, right? i figured putting a buncha flowers in the box would be a little hard to get around so i opted for the better option. then again, i could have just... put it on top of the box, huh.”

“kou?” you try to cut into his rambling.

“but then someone could’ve taken it, i suppose. then this while thing would have been ruined! and now you’re probably asking ‘well what thing would have been ruined. kou?’ i’m glad you asked!”

you didn’t but maybe saying that’ll ruin the moment that he so obviously worked hard to get to. the rambling he’s been doing for the past minute is a big indicator that he’s coming to a conclusion. swallowing down your laughter, your expression crinkles in question.

“i guess what i’m trying to say, bun, is... will you be my quarantine?”

you would be stupid to say no.

#hqradiostation #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #haikyuu fluff #bokuto fluff #hq fluff

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amispnrewatch · 3 years

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SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

#SPN 1x06 #amispnrewatch #reclaiming spn #performing!dean #lawboy #bi!dean #dean x cassie #dean x lee #stiles stilinski #void!stiles #teen wolf #dean deserved better

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chyrstis · 3 years

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WIP Friday!

I’ve had some tags throughout the week, so I’m going to cash them all in here, since Friday’s the day and I might’ve been hoping to get this posted last night too, whoops! And I want to thank you all for tagging me even if I don’t always respond quickly! <3 I definitely intend to, but there’s never enough time in a day or a week, is there?

Tagged by @redroci @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin and @amistrio and @adelaidedrubman !

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @shallow-gravy @nightwingshero @ma-sulevin @shellibisshe @jackalopestride @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @fluttyseed @fadedjacket @weekend-writer @starsandskies @faithchel @belorage @tomexraider @consumedkings @vasiktomis @chazz-anova @aceghosts @ofravensandgenesis @scarlettkat86 (and if you’re already posted WIPs, don’t mind me one bit! no obligation or pressure’s ever intended)

First, a snippet from Lighting the Fuse’s Ch. 2 which I’d love to edit up and post this weekend, so here’s hoping I can kick myself in the butt hard enough to pull it off? *crosses fingers*

---

“Not tonight, hon. Not tonight.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, she gave him a smile. “You’re here now, though. So…how about it?”

“How about what?”

“You ask,” she replied, giving him a lazy smile. “Since I’m clearly on the cusp of benching you if you don’t.”

Sharky clapped his mouth shut. Stood there, rooted to the ground and didn’t let out a single peep.

That boggled her completely. “Seriously, hon? Nothing?”

It was dark, but Hana could almost swear he was a shade of red darker than her hair right now. “You uh…. See I didn’t think it was-maybe you being asleep kinda threw off my groove a bit.”

Hana blinked at him. Watched a crooked smile settle onto his face as he let a nervous chuckle out.

“Like, like I mean I was gonna-was thinking of maybe doing this sorta-” His words trailed off as he clenched his teeth, swallowed hard, and let out a long exhale. “Okay, so maybe this shit isn’t exactly-”

A loud sigh came from her left directly from the radio, and the sound filled the entire room.

“…Wait, what the fuck?” Sharky asked, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You hear that?”

Clenching her fists, Hana slowly let her hands relax as she let the tension out. “Unfortunately.”

“Deputy, Deputy, Deputy. I know you’re listening. But I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose. I thought you wanted my attention. Would’ve been glad to finally have it undivided, and yet you deny me the pleasure of hearing a single response in turn. How…cruel.”

---

And a bit more of the Hana/Sharky one-shot I’ve been chipping away at, that’s actually getting really close to being finished too. I just need to jot down a few more moments for it and see if these two can actually clam up long enough to let me finish

---

“Yo, it’s not like I’ve been there any longer than a few days at a time, and half of the shit they’ve dragged me down to the jail for’s legal, just not in any of the spots I ended up doing it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, which is just fucking stupid seeing as lighting a fire by my house’s fine, but if it gets out to the street and catches on the trees ‘cause it’s extra dry out and the wind’s blowing, suddenly I gotta go in ‘cause I’m negligent or some shit. Then the po-po’s claiming I gotta have a permit to burn in the drier seasons, but it rains fucking plenty here.”

He’d draped his arm over her shoulders by this point, the motion coming so easily from him she hadn’t even noticed at first. Just nestled right into that warmth almost on reflex as Sharky kept on talking, and didn’t want to budge an inch if she could help it.

“Man, it’ll be the driest stretch of the year, and the sky’ll just open up and drop a bucket-load on us ‘cause it’s feeling it, but even if it don’t, anything I start’ll get put out. Just ‘cause I’m around doesn’t mean shit’s gonna go down, or nothing. ‘Cause then phone calls are made, people start looking at me funny, and I’m getting pulled out of my car for jack and shit when maybe I just wanted to take a breather there. Maybe get in a few Zs, take five to ten to jerk it, and they don’t gotta watch that too closely if I’m doing it either.”

She’d been nodding along with him, then stopped. Let that statement sink in as her eyebrows drew together before they rose high on her face.

“…Hon, that’s not legal.”

“Aw, come on, Dep! Don’t tell me there’s some kinda permit for parking out-“

“No, not that. You’d probably get slapped with a ticket or fine, sure, but it’s more about the fact that you were beating it there.”

“It’s indoors.”

That response came quick enough for her to tilt her head back to look at him. To side-eye him heavily as he shrugged, and damn. She’d curled up to him a lot closer than she’d initially thought. Close enough to-

She cleared her throat.

---

And a little more of the No Cult AU, maybe? ...I may have watched Speed again last night entirely due to this. and it might also be up to almost 8K in length as well, pre-edits, so... Help

---

But that didn’t solve the other problem. Towing it.

A truck would’ve been their best bet, but with him already there it didn’t make sense to try and scrape together cash for a tow truck, or to fire off a call to anyone down at the compound. His car had been used to drag Sr’s truck out of more than a few ditches without tearing the frame up, so this wasn’t a stretch to consider, and leaving them hanging now would’ve just been a shit thing to do when they didn’t even have a working phone or forty bucks between them.

And while he’d never been able to get a tow bar to last more than a few months max, he had a few solid workarounds that could still get the job done. One of which he’d seen in a commercial a while back.

He knew it almost by heart at this point, and cool as it’d be to fix their problem by just whipping his pants off and tying their vehicles together with them to help tow them to the compound, he’d gone down that road before. Hell, not just once, but twice now, and considering he’d been left between getting pepper sprayed and arrested, or having a busted set of jeans and his ass hanging out for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure he liked where that left him on round number three.

Besides these were a well-worn pair, and they seriously didn’t make them like they used to. Long as he tried not to get too creative with them, they had more than a few good years in them yet. So after some sifting and digging through the trunk of his car, Sharky kept his fingers crossed that he’d find an actual tow strap back there. He and Hurk had been through this dance enough times before that he knew he had one, and crossed his fingers that he hadn’t left it over at Sr.’s place.

Sure enough, there it was. Fucking majestic, and almost crumpled in the back, Sharky withdrew one perfect tow strap and broke out a few moves to celebrate it before hitching the two together.

Once it was secure, he told them all to hop in, and while trying to cram one extra person into his car was tough three other people might’ve been pushing it. John regularly had the best seat in the house and still hardly made it more than a few miles before fussing at him, and here they were double - and triple stacking themselves in any spare space in order to take a seat. Man, he was already thinking up ways to relay this story to Hurk later on, but with them semi-settled and packed safe as they could be, he fired the engine up and got them all back on the road.

It wasn’t a far drive out to Joseph’s but he took his time with it. Drove the slowest he’d ever attempted short of being twelve and behind the wheel for the first time, trying to be extra gentle with it all as the van lumbered behind them.

If he went too fast, they’d tear the back of his car off and lose it. If they hit the brakes too hard, they’d get rammed, so he needed to nail that sweet spot. Keep from tipping from one end over into the other as he played his very own version of Speed out on this stretch of road, watching that needle dance back and forth over that perfect point as he started to sweat a little under his cap.

But he had this. Pressed his foot down on the gas and let up when he needed to, exercising the kind of control that even John would give a silent nod of approval to - which would almost make him the Keanu to his Sandra, except John wasn’t there and currently trying to crawl under any of this shit to keep a bomb from going off - but whatever, it was close enough.

So he watched the mile markers fly by as they got closer and closer to the island, and by the time they rolled through the gate and came to a stop, Sharky let out whatever breath he’d started holding, and didn’t even care when the van nearly smashed into them on the home stretch anyway.

#wip #some of these are incredibly rough b/c my brain's part mush right now #but I've also had some of these segments stashed for way too long too #also if you want a laugh go ahead and look up the the old levi jeans commercial where they're 'towing' cars with it #of all the things to store in my brain over the years as a source of amusement it would be that

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

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I Want Us Part 7

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,636

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm // @inlovewith3 //

It didn’t take you and Carisi long to track down your suspect, your partner Antonio calling you back shortly after you drove away from the crime scene. The bentley was parked outside of the house it was registered, uniforms were on scene but there had been no one in or out of the house since they arrived, so you both headed over as quickly as you could.

“Maybe we can finally put this thing to rest,” Carisi said optimistically, watching the way you tapped your finger absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

“Maybe...” you replied, shaking your head as you turned off onto a very nice road; the cars looked like they cost more than your apartment, let alone the houses.

“What? You think it’s too neat?” Carisi guessed correctly, “I get that, really I do, but sometimes we get lucky.” You knew he was thinking the same as you, but you’d come to realise he was very much a glass half full kind of guy.

“Not this lucky,” you told him, pulling up behind the squad car parked down the end of the road, eyes landing on the vehicle from the security footage. “Not catch a serial killer with next to a dozen murders under his belt after a decade in less than 24 hours kind of lucky. We’re good, we’re not that good.”

With a pointed look you switched off the engine and climbed out, Carisi following suit. He knew you were right, but for the sake of these women and Captain Benson, you got why he hoped you weren’t - you didn’t want to be either.

“It’s that one, saw movement in the window but no one’s been in or out since we arrived, car was here already, matches your BOLO,” the officer first on scene told you, rolling down her window as you walked past. You nodded your thanks, still staring at the house.

“You want back up?” Her partner asked, leaning over in his seat slightly.

“Nah, we’re good, hang tight in case we need you,” Carisi answered when you didn’t, too much of this case not adding up. Something was staring you right in the face, but you just couldn’t see it yet.

Carisi put a light hand on your arm, bringing you back to reality as he gestured with his head towards the house - it was time to move.

You weren’t even all the way to the front door before it opened, your hand instinctively reaching for your gun before it quickly dropped, the person in the door not even a little who you were expecting as you and Carisi shared a confused look.

A kid stood in the door, probably not even 18, pale, face wet with tears and visibly shaking. You took a careful step forward, “are you okay?” You asked softly, noting how quickly his eyes were darting back and forth.

Carisi noticed it first, pausing a little in his tracks as you saw what he was looking at - the tracksuit, the expensive trainers... the blood.

This was your suposed suspect?

“I- I- didn’t- I panicked- I-” he stammered, burying his head in his hands as he sobbed, “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carisi consoled, reaching the boy and putting a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we go inside? You can tell us what happened?”

He looked up and nodded, leading you both inside. You signaled the unis to stand down before following them in, highly doubting they’d be needed.

“So, Bill, can I call you Billy?” You checked, surveying the house with an investigative eye. Billy nodded, finding his way into the living room and taking a seat, you and Carisi following suit on the sofa opposite.

“You the only one home?” Carisi asked, looking around. It clearly wasn’t Billy’s house, definitely his parents, as was the car, both way too expensive to be a teenager’s alone. Billy shook his head, not seeming to want to speak.

He was scared. Of what, or who, you didn’t know, but you were going to find out. “Billy,” you said, making him look up at you from his hands, “what happened?” You asked sympathetically, the weight of whatever he knew clearly threatening to break him.

“I was out for a run, my friend showed me this new route so I thought I’d give it a try, I nearly didn’t see her at first but- I mean she didn’t even look real- she was like some kind of doll I didn’t-” his breath caught in his throat, Carisi passing him a tissue from the coffee table as he tried to compose himself, “- I went to check if she was I person, and then I realised she was dead, oh god she was dead and I got scared and I swear I was going to tell someone, I swear, but then I heard someone and there was this guy- so I ran, I just ran, got in my car and-”

“Wow wow, slow down Billy, breath,” Carisi soothed, both of you perking up at the mention of another man, “what guy? Tell us more about the guy.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get a really good look, didn’t want to stick around you know? He came out from the trees behind the body and I didn’t want to be next- Oh right er... he was white, shorter maybe, wearing this white running gear-”

You exhaled sharply, clenching your jaw. You’d been so caught up... Why hadn’t it crossed your mind before now?

“Was that... helpful?” Billy asked, you and Carisi sharing a knowing look as you rose from where you were sitting, unable to afford to waste anymore time than you already had.

“Incredibly Billy, you did good. We’re going to need to bring you down to the station, alright?” Carisi clarified, satisfied you’d gotten everything you needed for the moment. There was definitely more work to be done, but you finally felt like you were getting closer.

“But I didn’t-” He started, agitation increasing as he straightened up in his seat.

“We know that, we do, but we’re going to need to confirm everything properly before we let you go, get you to make an official statement,” you explained, voice getting softer as you gave his shoulder a reasurring pat, “we believe you, I promise.”

He nodded, resigning himself. Carisi began to explain the process to him but you were already turning on your heels and heading out of the door, your phone in your hand as you dialed Voight.

“We have a problem,” you told him as soon as he picked up, explaining what Billy had just told you, along with your conversation with Tate. Voight listened intently, waiting until you were finished to talk.

“Do we believe the kid?” He asked you, trusting you enough to defer to your judgement.

You looked back as Carisi led the kid outside, waving to the uniforms to bring him to the squad car and take him to the 21st, his parents were meeting him there, probably with the best lawyer money could buy if the house was any indication, but you didn’t think it’d make a difference.

“We do,” you told him, watching as Carisi made his way back to you from the car, “I know how it sounds, and finger pointing isn’t what we like to go on, but he’s a kid Sarge,”

You put the phone on speaker, “Y/N’s right, he wouldn’t even have been ten when the New York murders happened.”

“Copycat?” Voight doublechecked, wanting to cover all bases.

“Can’t be, he wouldn’t have known all the facts, and even if we say at a stretch that he wasn’t working alone... we’d still be missing a mastermind,” you told him, Carisi nodding along to every word.

“Okay,” Voight said thoughtfully, “do we have an alibi for the first murder in Chicago?”

You looked to Carisi, “not yet, he’s hysterical, we’ve sent him back to you at the 21st and his parents are being contacted.”

“Okay, I’ll put Atwater and Rojas on it, they’re focusing on Lily’s case,” he told you, “I’ll get back to you when we know more, but for now I’m putting you two on Tate, I’ll fill Benson in while you do, and ask Hailey and Jay to see if either of the families know both potential suspects.”

“Copy that, thanks,” you signed off, putting your phone away with a sigh.

“Everyone missed it,” Carisi tried as you stalked off towards the car, clearly beating yourself up.

“I shouldn’t have done,” you grumbled, digging out the information you’d gotten from the officer on scene about Tate’s address. He was going to say more but you were walking with too much purpose.

“Y/N,” Carisi grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks as you grabbed the handle of your door. You looked back at him, meeting his eyes.

Then he was kissing you, quickly and urgently, the force and surprise pushing you back into the car as he took your breath away.

And then he was pulling away, stepping back as you remembered how to breath, lips tingling and cheeks warm. “I just needed to do that, now we should get back to work,” he told you, heading back to his side of the car with one last lingering look, leaving you still more than a little disoriented.

“Er yea, yeah we should go that,” you answered, more than a few seconds after he’d said it, turning back to see him smiling from across the car as you opened the door and climbed in.

You’d be thinking about that for the rest of the day, but you tried your best to push it to one side for now as you composed yourself: “Let’s go have a another chat with Mr. Tate.”

#sonny carisi #svu #law and order svu #chicago pd #one chicago #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #svu imagine #law and order svu imagine #chicago pd imagine #one chicago imagine #sonny carisi imagines #svu imagines #law and order svu imagines #chicago pd imagines #one chicago imagines #i want us

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amarimaryllis · 4 years

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I Liked You So Much, We Lost It (Iwaizumi x Reader)

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Reader

Prompt/Summary: You and Iwaizumi are so in love with each other that the only way the universe can separate you both is to put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you (spoiler: the universe actually does put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you).

Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Lots of timeskips, Inspired by Ysabelle’s “I Liked You So Much, We Lost It”, Sequel to “I Like You So Much, You’ll Know It” but can be read as a standalone fic

Warnings: Angst, Very Slight Manga Spoilers, Slight Canon Divergence (you won’t even notice it if you don’t read into it so let’s shhhh, I mean this entire fanfic is a canon divergence but let’s not 😌)

Almost everyone in Aoba Johsai knew that you and Iwaizumi were together. So many people had invested themselves in the friends to lovers situation that you guys had that it was impossible for them to not find out that you guys were finally together. Nearly three years of you guys just tip-toeing around each other and it finally paid off.

You guys were practically inseparable since the day that Iwaizumi brought you to the convenience store to shelter yourselves from the rain. If one was to see either of you, it was sure that the other would come around eventually. You guys were so deeply in love with each other that nothing could separate you. However, months had passed, and in a few weeks, it would be time for you all to graduate. You never really knew what Iwaizumi’s plans were after Seijoh. You just trusted that everything would fall into place as it always did.

“Hajime, why are you avoiding my gaze?” You pout from the floor of his bedroom, sitting with your legs crossed as you basked in the warmth that his hoodie brought.

Iwaizumi looks up from his work to give you a small smile. “You look too cute in my jacket.”

“And?” You blush slightly, but you don’t let him fully change the topic.

“It’s distracting, and I have this final project to finish.” Iwaizumi turns to look back at the paper.

“Project? Didn’t we finish them all last week?” You raise a brow, trying to take a look at the paper before Iwaizumi hastily pulls it away from your view. “Hey, Hajime… What is that?”

“It’s nothing.” Iwaizumi’s body is tense, avoiding your gaze as he fiddles with the pen.

“Okay.” You can feel your heart beating quicker. Worry filled your veins, but you try to tell yourself that you’re probably just overreacting. “I trust you.”

Iwaizumi sighs before he stands up and goes to your side. He plops behind you, pulling you in between his legs before he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss this.”

You smile at his touch, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that he emits before his words sink. “You’re talking as if I’m gonna be leaving.”

You giggle lightly before you turn around and wrap your arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, pressing your forehead onto his. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi looks conflicted as he stares into your eyes, his grip on your waist getting tighter with each passing second. You can see his eyes swirl with a million different things, and it scares you. What was it that had him acting like this?

“Hajime—“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a kiss.

It’s desperate. The way his lips move against yours, searching for something, longing for something. His lips were soft against yours, but the emotions you could feel swirling inside him made his movements hasty and thoughtless. It was like he was trying to forget something, erasing whatever it was that ate him up on the inside as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe before he’s hoisting you up and dropping you on his bed, hovering on top of you as he gazes into your eyes.

His eyes were teary, and this prompts you to speak. “Hajime what’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi drops to your side on the bed before he pulls you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” The serious tone laced in Iwaizumi’s words makes your heart beat quicker, the fear of something—you didn’t know what exactly made you feel afraid at that moment—settling itself deep into your chest. “Hajime, what’s going on?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me.” Iwaizumi whispers, his arms wrapping tighter around you as if he was afraid that you were going to disappear. “Please.”

“I promise.” You grab Iwaizumi’s cheeks with your hand before you press a quick peck on his lips. “Now tell me what’s going on. You seem so stressed lately, and it’s kind of making me worried.”

“I’m…” Iwaizumi’s voice is strained as if the words stuck in his throat were laced with thorns that wound him as he struggles to let it out. “I’m gonna study Sports Sciences.”

You giggle lightly. “Why are you worried? You’re gonna do great—“

“In California.” Iwaizumi whispers, but you hear it nonetheless.

It doesn’t sink in. You don’t want it to. As the anchors of that statement plunge deeper into the ocean of your system, the currents that try to keep you alive raise themselves to fight against the weight of the anchors. It’s futile, the waves of emotions, thoughts rage until they’re slowly drowning you in the uncertainty of your future. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” Iwaizumi sits up, which in turn makes you sit up as well. “No. I’m just… I don’t want to lose you just because I’m leaving.”

“Then why are you so stressed?” You could feel your eyes well up with relief, but no matter how much you look on the bright side, there’s still that gnawing feeling in your stomach. “You’re not losing me unless you break up with me, idiot.”

“Hey, don’t cry.” Iwaizumi pouts lightly at you, making you laugh at the way he looked. He smiles, his heart swelling as he sees you laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I’m gonna be all the way in California. The timezones won’t match. I’ll be busy on some days. I won’t be here to hug you or kiss you. Which is pretty damn unfortunate cause I really like kissing you—“

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Iwaizumi stops when he hears you call his name while grabbing his cheeks.

“Yes, love?” Iwaizumi responds immediately. It was as if months of being with you had trained him to do so when you called out his full name.

“I love you, and kilometers of land and sea isn’t gonna change that.” You smile before pressing a kiss on his lips. “Stop worrying.”

“Do that again.” Iwaizumi says as he eyes your lips.

“Do what?” You decide to tease him, acting as if you didn’t know that he wanted another kiss.

“Y/N.” He groans as he glares at you playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t.” You have a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine, be like that.” Iwaizumi huffs before he pulls you for another kiss.

You can feel him smile against your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

That was 10 months ago. Iwaizumi left in July, making it a total of six months that you haven’t seen him in person. The first month went off without a hitch. Video chats every day, messages shared regardless of the other’s time zone, and other methods of communication were used just so you guys felt like you were still there with each other in person. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that well.

If you were to describe what happened, you would say that you could compare it to a candle. It burns brightly at first before it slowly melts the way and the candle comes crashing down, snuffing out its flame with its own wax. Each month that passed was a step closer to the end that you both desperately tried to ignore.

You laid in your bed, snuggled into your blankets as you tried to seek warmth. The jacket that Iwaizumi gave you that you wore provided no warmth. It may have eased the cold that the rain brought, but it did nothing to ease the winter that stormed within your chest. Despite the bitter cold, you held on. After all, every winter has to end, right?

You frowned as you looked at one of the pictures that Iwaizumi was tagged in. A blonde girl with her arm around his shoulder, and Iwaizumi with a bright smile. The kind of smile he used to wear in pictures with you.

You could feel anger in your veins, jealousy mingling with it as it brought your blood to a light simmer. You were being unreasonable, you knew that, but six months without Iwaizumi was getting to you, and seeing some other girl doing what you desperately wanted to, but not being able to, made an envious feeling grow in your chest. It didn’t help that she wore the jacket you knew all too well: A jacket you gave Iwaizumi before he left for California. Your eyes teared up at the fact.

You shut your phone and your eyes, ready to turn in for the night before the familiar ringtone fills your ears. You wait. You don’t answer immediately. You let the phone ring a bit more. Your irrational side coming out to play as you hoped that maybe Iwaizumi would feel just as cold as you if you answered him later than you usually did.

You pick up.

“Good morning, love.” Iwaizumi’s face pops up on your skin, a bright smile on his face as the beginnings of the morning sun kiss his skin. The background was moving, and the camera was unstable, which meant that Iwaizumi was probably walking to his class somewhere, “I’m sorry for calling at this time. It’s probably late there but I missed— Wait, are you okay? You look like you just cried.”

You saw that Iwaizumi had stopped walking, the background behind him as stagnant as the words stuck in your throat.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi furrows his brows. “Talk to me.”

You begin to speak. “I don’t think—“

The lightning strikes outside, and a bright flash fills your room. You laughed bitterly in your head, perhaps it was a warning from the universe.

You change your approach. “In the hundred different futures you imagined… In the Dateko game…”

You struggle to find your words.

Iwaizumi smiles, but it looks quite forced to you. “The hundred different futures I imagined with you when you cheered for me in the Dateko game?”

“Yeah.” You almost feel guilty as you finalize the words you’re about to say in your head.

“What about those?” Iwaizumi asks, ever the patient and understanding boyfriend he was, but you could see it. The glint in his eyes that he had whenever he wanted to finish something. The look he had in his eyes whenever he just wanted to get things over with like they were some sort of… Inconvenience.

“Did you...” You shift in your bed, second-guessing your words as you sit up and fiddle with the hem of Iwaizumi’s jacket. “Was there a future that went like this?”

“Like this?” Iwaizumi looks confused. “Where I call you in the middle of a street? Not really? That’s too specific, honestly.” He chuckles and your heart sinks.

“No, not that.” You say solemnly. “A future where we don’t work.”

“What?” Iwaizumi looks stunned, and for a second, your heart races at the sight of him looking as he did before… Before he went to California. “What do you mean? Y/N?”

“I just—“

“HAJIME!” You could hear a woman’s voice on the other side. Years of learning English made sure that you understood what she said without a problem “Ready to go?”

Iwaizumi looks away from you as he turns to the source, a smile painting his face. “Of course, just give me a second.”

Your heart sinks in realization.

That’s how he smiled at you in the past.

“I’m gonna go.” You choke out as tears flow down your cheeks. “Have a good day, Iwaizumi-san.”

You shut the phone.

You cry. You didn’t need to hear it fall from Iwaizumi’s lips. You didn’t need to have it confirmed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you knew that he had feelings for that girl, whoever the hell she was. You knew that he probably only kept you because he didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you anymore. He probably did, it’s just that he found someone who was… There. Someone who wasn’t in a different place. Someone he could hug anytime he wanted to. It’s unfortunate that it wasn’t you, but maybe you should’ve seen it coming.

So you let go, and it was timely. What started underneath the rain, ended under it. The warmth of the first confession was washed away by the droplets, leaving nothing but the cold to soak deep into your system as you sobbed into your bed, hastily pulling the jacket off of your frame.

You make sure that Iwaizumi never gets to contact you. You had left him a message: a cruel “I’m breaking up with you, I’m sorry,” and nothing more. Maybe that would hurt him enough to make him feel less guilty about making moves on the other girl. You knew it was stupid to just leave him like that, but you just wanted it to stop. You hated the feeling of uncertainty. You hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. If you had to hurt yourself in the process of finding your peace of mind, then so be it.

Years pass and you’ve graduated. You’ve moved on. It wasn’t an easy process, but you pulled through. There were moments you just so wanted to desperately call Iwaizumi and crawl back into his arms, apologizing and all, but you stop yourself each time. You cut off all contact with him, you weren’t going to waste that. However, you knew that no matter how moved on you are, some part of you will always love him… And that’s okay. You’re okay. That’s the only thing that mattered.

Currently, you were in a convenience store, grabbing a quick snack before you went to the stadium to watch the volleyball match with Oikawa, who arrived from Argentina a few days back and wanted to meet up. The setter was probably looking for milkbread in one of the aisles, so you took your sweet time in picking a drink and snack because the setter would probably be shocked by the new variety of milkbread choices that popped up while he was still in Argentina.

Your phone buzzes.

Flatass: I’m at the table near the back, slowpoke. Get your ass here.

You roll your eyes with a grin before you text back.

You: You’re just jealous I have more ass than you.

You don’t get a reply. You shrug and pay for your items before you walk to the back of the store to eat with Oikawa.

“Oikawa—“ You stop at the sight.

Instead of Oikawa on the chair, it was Iwaizumi, still as handsome as he was years ago.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi smiles. “Do you mind if I watch with you guys? Oikawa had an extra ticket and who was I to decline—“

“I don’t mind.” You smile, nothing but happiness filling your chest as you reunite with an old friend.

A/N: I like to pretend that this part of the storyline doesn’t exist 💖. Also, this was written before Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer was a thing so please excuse the ending.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #genre.angstfluff #cont.spoilers #tw angst

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vhsrights · 4 years

Text

Just Another Night Of Hanging Out

Pairing: Morcia

Tags: fluff, a bit of pining, a soft spa and movie night in

Summary: Penelope and Morgan are just friends, the bestest of friends, which is why they have spa and movie nights. Hours spent close by each other's side, trying to hold in the love that is nearly bursting from their hearts. After all, it’s not like the other is in love with them...

WC: 3.4 k words

For the lovely @morcias because hayley loves morcia and inspired me to write this cute ass OS :)

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“So are you going to tell him tonight?” JJ smirked and wiggled her eyebrows at Penelope, slowly raising her coffee mug to take a sip.

“Tell who what, sweets?” Penelope twirled the sparkly pen around in her hand, purposefully averting her eyes from her friend and planting them on her computer screen.

“Pen, we’ve been over this. Tell Derek. I mean, it’s obvious that you two were made for each other. Don’t even get me started on how he looks at you or talks about you. What’s taking you so long?” The blonde leaned back against the desk, watching Penelope aimlessly move around files on her desktop.

“Okay, ever since you and Prentiss have gotten together, you have gone all lovey-dovey on me. Derek Morgan is not in love with me. We’re just the best of friends, pals if you want, that have a spa and movie night planned tonight.” JJ rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend’s jab at her new relationship.

“Ew, please never call yourself and Derek ‘pals’. Also, you helped Emily and I get together so you have nothing to say there. Fine, I guess I won’t tell you what Derek told me about you on the jet ride home yesterday. Enjoy moving your files around.” With that, JJ turned to leave the woman’s office, a smirk wide on her face.

“Pump, your brakes. He said something about me? And you weren’t gonna tell me? Jayje, need I remind you that I have the powers of the boundless internet at my fingertips? Park yourself in this seat and spill.” Penelope swiveled around in her chair with enthusiasm, rapt by the information JJ had.

Gesturing to the chair that was against the wall, Garcia’s eyes followed her friend. She could feel the thrum of her heart speed up. Fidgeting with the frilly pen in her hand, she tried to calm her nerves. It would do her no good to be jittery. Derek was her best friend, and she just happened to fall in love with him, that’s all. It was no big deal. Maybe if she told herself that enough, she could believe it. At the moment, just the thought of Morgan alone turned her world. To hell with money or fame or even love, she just needed him. She needed him at her side, in whatever way she could have it.

“Okay, okay, Pen. You know I wouldn’t have kept it from you anyway. Anyways, he was talking to me about a baseball game for the Chicago cubs and I mentioned that you used to go to baseball games as a kid. You should’ve seen his face. His smile stretched like a mile wide and he did that thing with his eyebrows that he does when he thinks about or talks to you.”

Penelope’s nose scrunched and her eyebrows furrowed. Sure she had gone to baseball games as a kid, but it wasn’t often and she never remembered enough about it to have a full conversation about Derek. Why did that thought make him so happy? What eyebrow thing was JJ talking about? In the years that she had spent with him, hours lost examining the sharp angles of his face, she had never seen “the eyebrow thing”. JJ had to be pulling her leg.

Beyond that, imagining the glowing smile on Derek’s face made her giddy. She could almost trace the smile lines that ran deep beside his cheek in her mind. Penelope’s eyes almost closed, piecing together the picture of Morgan’s eyes shining at the thought of her. That was a kind of happiness that she would never be able to describe. It was beyond the butterflies cliche, more that it felt like her life just got 1000 times brighter and she never had to worry ever again.

“Very funny, Jayje. What eyebrow thing? My sweet and I have a close relationship, and I think I would have noticed an “eyebrow thing” if he had one. I know every inch of his angelic face like the back of my hand. He is “the Derek Morgan”, and even if I am a tech goddess, he doesn’t love me like that. I’m his god-given solace, but not the one to complete his heart for the rest of eternity.” Penelope’s voice quivered near the end of her statement. She didn’t let her mind wander too much, hyper-aware of JJ’s presence.

“Oh, look at that, it looks like a data packet is finally ready to upload. Can I get back to my work now?” Garcia quickly diverted the attention from herself at the ping of her computer. JJ didn’t even have time to form a response before she was ushered out.

The click of the door was followed by Garcia slumping back into her chair. The air had left her lungs and the monotone beep of her many monitors was not enough to dull the thoughts in her head. The data packet that she had talked about had been ready to download since before JJ entered her office. Penelope finally started to let it run. She let her wishful thinking set in once more. Images of Derek Morgan’s hand in her own with the words “I love you” on his lips flashed across her thoughts.

It was wishful thinking indeed.

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Grunts and groans filled the air around Derek Morgan. His eyes were focused on his assailant, determined not to let them get a hit on him. His stance was tight, the balls of his feet light against the ground. Sweat had begun to bead against his eyebrows. Derek’s hands were taut in fists and raised to protect his body. Now, he just had to wait for the right moment to attack.

Everything happened too quickly after that. His eye had caught a sticker on the wall of the BAU gym that was glittery and radiant against the sunlight. Penelope. She was the only one that would do that. The woman was an angel in human form and his focus shifted. He thought of the way that her face lit up around anyone that was talking passionately and the sweet scent of her “candy perfume”. Those distractions were enough to land him flat on his ass.

Emily crouched down beside him and took off her head guard. She had watched the slight tilt in his head and noted a minimal looseness come into his form. Taking advantage of the momentary weakness, and really to test Morgan’s attention, she swung a right hook to his chest. The move was easily blockable and yet her partner had taken it in its full force.

“Morgan, what’s gotten into you?” She said the words quietly, still panting from the intensity of their session. “That hook was square on you and you didn’t even move to block it.”

“I guess my eyes lost focus for a second. Come on, let’s go again. I still haven’t given you your weekly crushing loss.” He beamed and tried to divert the conversation. There was no way he was going to talk about Penelope right now.

Emily laughed weakly and fakely at the joke. She knew exactly what Morgan was trying to pull. Emily had done it many times herself on the topic of JJ before they had gotten together. She recognized that same lovesick look in his eyes. Still wanting to clear up the reason for his loss of focus, Emily asked him again.

“Don’t avoid my question, Derek. Is it Pen? I can see that look in your eyes, like the one you used to make fun of me for before I started dating JJ. You have to tell her, man.”

“No, it wasn’t her. Even if it did happen to be her, Penelope is my best friend and nothing more.”

Lie. Derek Morgan was lying through his teeth.

Penelope Garcia was more to him than words could describe. She was more to him than actions could show. She was more to him than consciousness could perceive. Penelope was his life force. She was the one thing that made waking up in the morning not seem like a chore. She was a light that could alone guide him out of the darkest corners of the Earth, with a heart that felt like the warm safe haven of his childhood home. If he had her and nothing else, Derek Morgan’s world would continue to spin as it did. He just needed her at his side, in whatever way he could have it.

“Liar. You called her Penelope, and you only do that when you start daydreaming about her. Wait! Today is your date with her, isn’t it? I think JJ told me something about a movie and dinner? Ooooh.”

Emily’s words were punctuated by a sigh from Derek. He rolled his eyes in hopes of not revealing how truly excited he was. His heart was beating faster in his chest and that had nothing to do with the rigorous workout that he had just finished with Emily. He knew that Penelope had lined up an array of skincare as part of their special activity for the night. Knowing that she would be so close to his face, Derek would have to resist his urge to kiss her.

“Oh, shut up. It’s not a date. Me and my baby girl are just hanging out, like best friends are supposed to. Just because you and JJ happened to be more than best friends, doesn’t mean that Garcia and I are. She doesn’t like me like that. Garcia is sunlight as a person, or rather an All-Knowing Goddess, so you really think she would date me? I don’t think so.”

Morgan walked into the locker room before Emily could answer. Yet he still heard a faint “Stop lying to yourself” through the thick door. Derek smiled to himself and grabbed his bag from the corner of the locker room. He changed his shoes and threw one a light jacket. It was barely enough to stop him from shivering under the cold sweat, he would remove it immediately in his car. He got to see Penelope in almost 2 hours, he realized as he checked his watch.

There went his heart again, beating faster and faster. It was almost as if he was in love with her.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he shut the door and exited the locker room. Derek kept his head down as Emily reappeared by his side. The least he could do was try to hide his deep infatuation further.

“I know that you won’t look at me because you’re blushing, or whatever your version of blushing is. Listen, I’m telling you to go for it. Pen looks at you like you’re offering her the universe in your hands to her whenever you two speak. You, Loverboy, have a thing for Miss Penelope Garcia, and she has one for you. You’re practically already married.”

“You’re just pulling my leg. We’re friends. Do I need to spell it out for you? Garcia and I aren’t going to be more than friends, because she doesn’t like me like that.”

“Oh, of course she doesn’t, and I’m straight.” Derek huffed as the two exited the BAU gym into the building’s open lobby.

Just by “fluke”, JJ and Penelope were walking down the opposite hallway towards them. It’s not like Emily had texted JJ to coordinate their arrivals into the lobby. That would be absurd.

Penelope’s eyes widened when she noticed Derek beside Emily. He was sweaty and tired from his workout, and yet Penelope couldn’t think of a time where he had looked better. She staggered her words in her side conversation with JJ, attempting to not sound overly flustered. JJ eventually spotted the two and waved them over, smiling brightly at her girlfriend. Morgan noticed the pink tinge in Garcia’s cheeks and simply decided that they were because of her lair’s frigidity.

JJ walked over to Emily and pulled her in for a chaste kiss, leaving Penelope and Morgan standing at odds with each other. Both had piling nerves for the night ahead of them, but those subsided quickly when they respectively remembered that it was no different to any other night spent between the two of them. It was just another night of hanging out.

Derek’s smile grew and he took the final step towards Penelope. He wraps his arms around her, just as he has and will do a thousand times. She fits perfectly in his hug. Penelope leans her head into Derek’s chest. She could feel his erratic heartbeat and chalked it up to his workout. He was still sweaty but Garcia didn’t mind. Rain or shine, sweaty or not, Derek’s arms were her home.

JJ and Emily faked a little disgust, letting out animated sounds to indicate the pair’s sappiness. Penelope chuckled and pulled back away from Derek just a little bit, their hug still mostly intact. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and him looking into hers. They got lost in them, too rapt with imagining their futures together. Neither Morgan nor Penelope had any sense of time as they reveled in the beauty of the other’s eyes. They finally pulled apart when JJ cleared her throat, smirking at Penelope’s flushed face.

“So, Baby girl, I’ll see you at 6:45? In like an hour and a half? How does that sound?” Derek shifted his eyes to the floor, diligently readjusting the strap of his workout bag against his shoulder.

“Perfect.” Penelope smiled at him, enough to melt his heart and make his brain foggy.

They departed after a quick cheek kiss, ignoring how it made them feel.

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Penelope zipped around her apartment, a thousand things running through her head. She had her arms full of serums and other various products that she had forgotten to add to her cart. Garcia had decided to go sans makeup for this hangout and was ready to make Derek glow just like her.

She glanced over to the DVD player that sat in the corner of the room. It was properly hooked up and ready to go, her small collection of movies for the night beside it. After that, her eyes swiveled around her to check for anything else that was missing. Satisfied with her preparation, Penelope checked her watch.

6:44 PM. Derek should be here any second.

RINGGGG

The sound of the doorbell sent Penelope a few inches off the ground, a yelp escaping her lips. She made a dash for the door. Opening it only seconds after the bell, Penelope took in Derek on the other side of the doorway. He was wearing a white muscle tee and wearing the pajama pants that she had bought him a month ago. It had been their little secret after Penelope saw the pants that reminded her of Morgan, not being able to resist the urge to buy them.

“Hey, how’s my favorite girl in the world?” Derek held up their takeout and his movie selections for the night.

“Brilliant, as always. Come on in. Let’s get started!” Penelope wasted no time in dragging the man in.

“Well, you are glowing. I’m super excited.” Derek spied the cart on the side, eyes widening at the true extent of Penelope’s effort.

“Aww, you’re sweet. You’ll look like this too when I’m done with you! Your dry skin will be no more. Seriously though, you should moisturize it more.” Penelope’s words were fast enough for him to barely catch them but he simply watched her face instead.

She eagerly set the dinner to the side, ushering him to go and wash his face. Returning soon, they decided to get dinner out of the way before getting to the skincare and movies. Nearly 45 minutes later, Derek sat back in the chair that Garcia had gestured him to. The woman sat on her stool, pulling up her cart with various products for Derek’s routine.

“Okay, so like I said before, you have dry skin. Upbupbup, I know that you moisturize it, but baby the dryness shows. So, I have some special goodies here for you today. They’re gonna fix everything right up!” Morgan didn’t catch much of Penelope’s speech, too wrapped up in the way that her eyes glimmered under the incandescent lighting.

“I have this moisturizing serum here that is perfect for you, but first we’re doing sheet masks! I went to the store and I got the 24-carat gold one because they are the most perfect for us. So lay your head back, and let me roll this on you.”

Derek silently obeyed, letting the refreshing and cooling material rest softly against his face. He truly didn’t realize when the time had passed, because Penelope was taking it off 5 seconds later. From there, Penelope went on a long, detailed routine and product explanation that Derek barely understood a word of. He tried to explain that he did wash his face semi-regularly, but it didn’t hold up against Penelope’s regimented plan.

His face felt smooth and well taken care of when Penelope finally tapped him on the shoulder. Derek sat up slowly, letting his eyes droop open and find her. Her eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed. One thing was for sure, Morgan liked the feeling of Penelope’s soft fingers brushing against his face to apply products.

They put away everything and sat down for the movie. It was a cheesy romantic comedy, just like the kind that Penelope watched when she wanted to clear her mind. The oblivious characters on screen were quite the spot-on comparison for Derek and Penelope. Their antics brought the two many laughs, while still melting their hearts with sappiness. Derek felt relaxed, more than his mind and soul, his heart was relaxed. Having Penelope so close as they enjoyed the movie was a perfect picture of domesticity. Morgan wanted it forever.

“I wish that we could do this together forever. You’re just so perfect for me.” Derek’s eyes stayed on the screen, not realizing he had said anything aloud.

Penelope, on the other hand, almost freaked out. All of her internal alarms went off, terrified that this was a prank. Was Derek serious? He couldn’t be. Penelope couldn’t let the information nag at her. She burst out her question moments later.

“Do you mean it? Do you want forever with me?” The words snapped Derek out of his trance.

He looked down at the woman and realized what had happened. There was no way to get out of this but through. Here goes nothing. He took a deep breath and prepared himself. This wasn’t something that he could mess up. Penelope was his everything, and she needed to know that.

“Yes, I do. Penelope Garcia, you are my saving grace. Every second I spend with you makes my heart palpitate and my thoughts go crazy. But at the same time, you are the only one that can get through to me when I want to shut the world out. You are my voice of reason. You are the reason I get up in the mornings. You are the one that I see beside me when I picture my life as a romcom. You are my god-given solace. I want forever with you, beautiful, and ever after, if that it’s okay with you.”

Derek had held his breath through the entire speech. It was something that he had rehearsed and imagined and dreamed of for years. However, the words that had come out of his mouth were not the ones that he had planned. Yet, it still felt right. He waited for Penelope’s answer, too scared to look at her again. The silence was momentary and unbearable.

“I want forever with you too. Derek Morgan you are it for me. I saw you all those years ago, and even then, I knew that you would someday mean everything to me. It’s you that got me through countless cases. It’s the thought of you that helps me sleep and wake up each morning. It’s you that helps me shine that much brighter on the world each day.”

The weight of the world had been lifted off of their shoulders. Happy tears flowed from each of their eyes. Penelope could think of nothing but to bring her hand up to Derek’s chin, gently tilting it down to press a gentle kiss against his lips.

That night turned out not to be just another night hanging out. Penelope and Morgan had found their soulmates, or rather, in the words of a wise Derek Morgan “god-given solace”.

#morcia #writing #userluthor #fluff #a soft movie and spa night #derek morgan #penelope garcia #they're just so cute #i love them so much #mc content hours

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misterewrites · 4 years

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Threads of Fate 2: Electric Boogaloo (Jason Todd X reader)

Hello everyone, E here with another story! this time it’s part 2 for the story i wrote for my good friend @hains-mae last year for her birthday! so naturally it’s her birthday again cuz that’s how they work! Red Hoodie X reader. I hope you all have an amazing week. I will be trying to write my original story and post it sometime this/next week but we’ll see what happens. Stay safe, take care of yourself, for the love of all that is holy stay inside! wear masks! PLEASE! GET THE FLIPPING VACCINE IF YOU CAN!

E out, byeeeeeee! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAE!

Here’s both parts conveniently in one place for you (cuz tumblr hates me and my tags)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955270/chapters/73737858

“Romeo and Juliet? You’re so cliché that troupes are rolling their eyes at you.”

I shoot him a dirty glare “Says the guy that has Pride and Prejudice in his jacket pocket. Yeah yeah” I cut him off before he begins to throw out excuses “I know you say it’s thick enough to stop bullets but you’re not fooling me. You love some classic romance.”

“You’re no Lizzy Bennet” he grumbles behind his mask.

“And you no Mr. Darcy yet I tolerate you all the same.”

“It’s for my charming personality.”

“Certainly not for your face.” I playfully throw back “Smooth, featureless and red isn’t exactly my type.”

“I’m surprise you have a type given your lack of taste in books.”

I roll my eyes “Oh great now the former crime lord is giving me crap about my tastes in book.”

He rose his hands in surrender “Hey, that was my edgy phase.”

“Was? You’re still dressing like a goon from indie action film.”

“You kidding? Goons wish they looked this good.”

“I don’t think any respectable goon would shop at the thrift store.”

“Low blow. Low blow.”

I give the costumed vigilante a sideways smile as we settle into a comfortable silence.

It’s been about two years since Red Hood decided to intrude my quiet life (well as quiet as life could be in Gotham) and we have developed this strange friendship.

Every moment he wasn’t on patrol or at a briefing (coughfamilymeetingcough) he spent here. At first, I thought it was just him checking up on me like some overburdening mother worried their child couldn’t handle a minute in the backyard but I soon realized this became some sort of haven for him, a place for him to just exist. Not quite relax and let his guard down but just to be. No appearances of brutality to keep up, no disappointed glances from his estranged father figure. Just him picking on me because he’s a jerk.

But then again so am I.

I nervously glance at the red string tied snugly around my finger. It pulled off to the side though not too much further from me as its other end was wrapped around Red’s finger.

Strings of fate mom used to call it. My power to see the threads of destiny tying two people deeply together. At first I thought it was love or something junk like that but now I’m thinking maybe it just leads you to someone you need and someone that needs you back.

Or maybe it is love, what do I know? All I know about my power is it makes walking the streets harder than it needs to be. Ever see those old pictures of cities with powerlines just in every freaking direction? The strings are at least ten times worse than that! Luckily they’re not real? Well more an abstract concept that I see and not physical and you know what don’t worry about it.

“So” Red spoke up after a moment “Hungry?”

“After you insulting my taste in books?” I gave a fake pout “Starving. Oh shoot, I forgot to go to the store.”

Red chuckled “You didn’t forget, Penguin decided to try to extort it for protection money.”

“Oh” I blush in embarrassment “Right.”

“And you fell back asleep.”

I waved him off “Sometimes you just wake up, see the news and decide it’s not worth it.”

“I never get to sleep in.” Red rose to his feet “but honestly I’ve always had trouble sleeping.”

The nightmares. He mentioned it once in an off hand comment when he asked me why I toss and turn at loud noises. Gotham just does that too you. Eventually you learn to get ready to bolt at any loud noises over 190 decibels. Fun fact, that’s the noise level of a shotgun fired by your ear or a rocket taking off.

Or Joker laughing on the roof of your apartment building. Let me tell you, nothing’s louder than that madman. Thunder sounds like cats and dogs once you hear the Joker’s manic chuckle just a few feet away from you. One time years ago and I can still feel the chills run down my back whenever I think of it.

“So are you going to order pizza or what?” I asked quizzically “Since you’re aware I don’t have any in the fridge.”

I could practically hear the sarcasm dripping in every word out of his mouth as he held a bag of groceries aloft “I was trained by Batman. I’m always prepared.”

Batman. Whatever his relationship with the dark knight currently is, he always spoke of him with a soft, gentle voice. A quiet pride that out of everyone in the world, the Bat chose him. But with that pride was a hint of shame. Everyone knew Red Hood hadn’t exactly made it easy on the old bat and while Hoodie was changing his ways, there was still some friction between them.

I didn’t say anything though. No point. He knew where he stood with his father figure and bringing it up would just make him sully. Besides I was way too curious to know how good of a cook he was.

I marveled in an awe silence as he expertly placed the various ingredients across my messy counter. He chuckled to himself as he cleared it to make space for dinner. I could feel my cheeks burn.

Watching him was oddly mesmerizing: His movements were precise yet graceful for someone with his build. He glided across the floor effortlessly, smoothly dicing whatever he brought one moment then by the time I blinked, he was warming up the frying pan by the stove.

Soon an incredible smell filled the air while the sizzling of meat practically had me drooling.

“Your chin.” Red motioned to my lip with a spatula. I brought up my hand and flinched at how moist it was. Okay so it was drool. Sue me! You’d be drooling too if you had to deal with waiting for whatever heavenly meal he was cooking, okay?

Desperate to change the subject, I piped up “Should be I concern how well you handle that knife?”

He gave a casual wave with said instrument “I hold the power of destruction and creation in my hand.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

Red coughed loudly “I’ve trained with various weapons knives included. You’d be surprised how much overlap happens between cooking and weapons handling.”

“Right. Sure. That’s a totally normal statement.”

“What about me” He gestured to himself “Is normal?”

“Fair point.” I conceded.

-----

“Am I forgiven?”

I grumbled a half answer as I tried not to let on how delicious this meal was. I don’t make the best money and let me tell you before this the fanciest thing I ever ate was some overpriced pasta from some restaurant chain. This easily beat anything I have ever tasted except mom’s cooking but I hadn’t had that in years.

Red snorted, his voice smooth and melodic not filtered through some robotic alternation. I didn’t really had a dining room or a dinner table so we sat comfortably on my couch, tv playing some nonsense in the background as we both took in the sight of the city beyond my modest window. The lower part of his mask retracted backwards via some kind of high tech witchcraft and allowed him to eat his food without needing to show the rest of his handsome face.

I mean I think it was handsome. I assumed it was handsome given I accidentally figured out who was under the whole persona he set up for himself. I never told him that I knew though I suspect he knew that I figured it out. He was smart even if he acted like an idiot and it really was for the best. Plausible deniability. If I never asked, he never needed to answer.

“You know if you want me to cook again, you need to forgive me. Otherwise I’m not gonna waste my time anymore.” Red threatened with a tease.

I let out an exasperated groan “Fine, fine! It’s good. It’s the best food I’ve ever had! Is that what you want to hear?”

“Naturally. Though I could never compete with Alfred. He has no equal in the kitchen. Better than my brothers though. They can’t cook to save their lives. Tim practically lives on fast food.”

I stopped shoving food into my maw as an icy chill ran through my body. The comfy silence that filled my humble apartment turned tense.

One of those names I could pretend away: Tim? Alfred? Every day common names. But together? Tim AND Alfred. Everyone knew every member of the Wayne family because they were the only rich family in Gotham who didn’t want to screw everyone else over. And he brought up his brothers. That was the final nail in the coffin.

I put down my fork slowly. I could feel myself breath heavily but I refused to see him. I refused to meet his mask with nothing but my own shocked reflection to look back at me.

“I know you know who I am.” He said simply.

I could feel the syrupy urge to look at him ebbing at my resolve.

I swallowed uneasily “What now? What happens to me?”

‘Us’ I left unasked.

Silence.

“I don’t know”

I tried to calm my breathing but I could feel panic grip at me: Does this mean he’s not going to come anymore? Does this mean I have to go into witness protection? Is Batman going to scold me?!

“But I want to.”

I couldn’t help myself. I turned to him and for one of the few times in my life I was left speechless.

I was not staring at Red Hood. I found myself not looking at the smooth, featureless mask I had grown accustom to these last two years but Jason Todd.

Out of all of Bruce Wayne’s children, Jason was the one who seemed to just fall off the face of the Earth. There was a rumor he had died a few years back but those were debunked when he appeared without warning, just walking the streets of Gotham like he went on an extended vacation.

There wasn’t too many pictures of the enigmatic Mister Todd but that quick glance I had gotten forever ago did not do him justice: He was my age. His eyes were a piercing blue that I did not know could be that shade. I know it’s cliché but I felt like he was staring directly into my soul. His face was rugged, rough but still handsome. His hair was a messy jet black but there was few streaks of white that looked too natural to be dyed.

“I….didn’t see anything?” I offered helpfully, giving him a chance to put the mask on and pretend this none of this ever happened.

His nose wrinkled as he gave me a playful scoff. I could feel my heartbeat roaring in my ears.

“I’m not that ugly. Better looking than Dick.” he joked playfully.

“I dunno. Dick’s got the better ass.” I mumbled out, still too caught guard from the whole reveal.

“But I got the muscles.”

“Yes you do.” I eyed his body carefully then flushed a bright pink.

That knocked me out of my stupor.

“Are you sure you want me to know?” I whispered, unable to keep the fear out of my voice “I mean I didn’t mind pretending I didn’t know.”

“I do.”

His face soften and for a moment he didn’t look like Jason Todd, wayward son of Bruce Wayne or the Red Hood, moral gray compress of the batfam.

He just look like a regular guy who needed someone.

Evidently me it seemed.

I took a calming breath and offered my hand. He stared at me like I’m crazy but I kept it outstretched.

He took it gingerly and shook carefully, still unsure what was going on.

“Hello Jason Todd.” I beamed cheerfully “It’s nice to meet you!”

He said nothing, instead opting to smile softly.

“Nice to meet you too.”

I stared at the metaphysical string that tied us so neatly together.

I have never seen it that red before. And has it always been that thick?

I wonder what that means.

Eh, it’s probably nothing. I had other things to worry about.

#My story #Red Hood #Reader #Red Hood x Reader #Birthday!

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Text

voltaire to versace 03 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 03

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 16.4k whups

warnings: sex jokes n references again, dolley simping for james again, but probably more this time, implied sex except dolley’s having it instead of mc, maria and angelica are girlfriends, lafayette is basically everyone’s plug for weed so like,, drug references and alcohol references??, very much sexual tension

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @cubedtriangle @lunariasilver @lexylovesfandoms @fanfic-addict-98 @stephyra17 @notebookgirl30 @exorcisms-with-elmo @kmsmedine @itshaileyn @honeyand-roses — let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

"Wait, so you're going to do it, right?"

It wasn't until Friday morning that Y/N told Dolley about Thomas's offer, both of them seated at a corner table in the coffee shop in the middle of campus. Y/N shrugged, taking a sip of her latte.

"I dunno, Doll. It seems like it could be... risky."

"How so?" Dolley set down her cup, squinting at her skeptically, and she pursed her lips.

"Listen, he's a good professor, and he and I have a good relationship or whatever, but I'm not sure what a great idea it is for me to be with him too much more often."

"Is your self-control already waning?" Dolley gave Y/N a look of disbelief, and she answered it with a sigh.

"I'm not gonna make a move on him; I swear," she said, expression dead serious, but when she continued, her voice dropped just a few decibels. "But... if I had the chance to sleep with him again, I wouldn't hesitate to take it. And I really can't have that happen."

"How the hell do you think becoming his TA is going to turn into sex?" Dolley asked incredulously. "You know I adore you, but I do not adore when you're self-sabotaging."

"I'm not self-sabotaging," Y/N insisted, and though she'd hoped the statement would sound reasonable, she just came off as defensive. "I'm being careful. I know myself, and I know that early January was some of the best sex I've had in a while."

"Sounds to me like you're pent up." Dolley raised her eyebrows, giving Y/N a pointed look, at which she scowled. "Just fuck someone from Alpha Phi Omega and then take the TA position."

"You don't get it," Y/N groaned. "Half the time, his office hours are just like some mildly awkward run-in with a one-night stand. It's casual enough that there's no real issue, but there's always just a little bit of... discomfort."

"That's called sexual tension, dear." The look in her eyes was knowing. "And it doesn't go away when you turn down positions that will look good on grad school applications."

A beat passed in silence, and finally, Y/N sighed.

"You're right. That's kinda my point, though." She pursed her lips; the nod she gave looked resigned, both disappointed and on edge. "It also doesn't go away when I do take those positions. And I don't wanna fuck up and make everything even more awkward."

"Y/N. I believe in you." Dolley took one of Y/N's hands in hers, picking it up from where she'd rested it on the table as she slumped over in her fit of angst. "You're strong. You can work with a man without fucking him."

Y/N scowled. "Well, when you put it like that, you're making it sound like I'm some kind of sex fiend."

"That's what you're acting like!"

"Fuck off, Dolley; no, I'm not." She folded her arms, pushing her mug and saucer to the side of the table. "My most recent one-night stand turned out to be my professor, and now he's asking me to be his TA. I'm allowed to be a little hesitant."

Dolley pursed her lips. "You might have a point."

"Thanks, I'm thrilled to hear it," Y/N responded dryly. "But... I'll figure it out. I doubt it could really turn out all that badly. I can handle myself."

"That's the spirit." Dolley did not sound enthusiastic. "But you really need to..."

Dolley trailed off with wide eyes, her gaze apparently having caught something across the café. Y/N eyed her skeptically, raised an eyebrow. "... Dolley? You still with me?"

She waited a moment, watching to see if her attention would recover, but when it didn't she waved a hand in front of her, trying to break her stare, but it was apparently locked elsewhere. "Hello? Anybody home?" Another moment of quiet, and eventually, Y/N snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Dolley!"

"Hm?" Her eyes snapped back to Y/N's almost too quickly, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh... um, nothing. I just spaced out." The smile that had begun to split her expression said otherwise, though.

"Oh, really?" Y/N's eyes narrowed, shifting in her chair to glance back over her shoulder. "What's back there? Did you see someone? Are you— Oh!" She stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes widening, and when she whipped back around to face Dolley, her grin was sheepish. "That's James, isn't it?"

"Shh, not so loud!" Dolley said, shoving her arm. The giddiness written across her face didn't help her case as she attempted to scold Y/N. "Yes, that's him. Yellow sweater, grey coat."

"He's cute," Y/N commented, taking another less-than-sneaky glance over her shoulder at him, before she turned back to Dolley with an expectant look. "So? Are you going to go talk to him?"

"Right now?" At the question, Dolley's smile dropped. It seemed as if she'd been blindsided, as though upon seeing the man she'd been sleeping with for weeks on end, Y/N was going to encourage her to ignore him.

"Yes, right now!" Y/N was just watching her with disbelief. "What's the issue?"

"I... I don't know," Dolley said softly. Her tiny, dopey grin had been restored, but it was now tainted with anxiety. "I really like him, but..."

"... But?"

Her sigh was heavy. "I'm worried he and I don't have much in common. He's, like, the strong and silent type, y'know?"

Y/N pursed her lips, biting back a wince. "That's so clichéd, Doll."

"I know, I know," she groaned, plastering on a pleading pout. "Just bear with me. Please."

There was a skip, and Y/N was eyeing Dolley warily. "You know I'm always here to listen. But if you get too self-destructive, I don't wanna hear it."

"I won't!" she defended, and a grin was stretching across her face at the whole situation, making Y/N's contempt soften to skepticism. "I just don't know what I want, okay? And worse yet, I don't know what he wants."

"I promise, no one's expecting you to turn into a mind reader. Least of all James."

"I know," she sighed, drawing out the words in the midst of her apparent (or perhaps dramatized) emotional exhaustion. "But he's quiet. He doesn't say much, and you know that always freaks me out a little."

"So I hear."

"But... we get along well. He's nice to be around. He puts me at ease."

"Aww, Dolley, are you falling for him?" That time, it was Y/N's turn to pull on a contrived pout, squeezing Dolley's forearm lightly, and though she rolled her eyes, Dolley still looked as though she was the least bit absent, her head still coming back down from the clouds. "That's sweet."

"I know, I know," she said, biting her lip in a weak effort to hide her smile. "But... you know me. I'm not the quiet type. Quite the opposite."

"That might even be an understatement," Y/N muttered, breaking her gaze briefly, and Dolley scoffed.

"Oh, shut up! I already know that, and I don't wanna hear it." She gave Y/N a pointed look. "But he and I are so different, and I'm worried that I'll end up being too much for him. I don't wanna be overbearing."

Her final sentence was quiet, and Y/N could hear her insecurities weakening her conviction. "You're not overbearing, or overwhelming, or 'too much,'" she assured her, and Dolley covered her hand with her own, squeezing it lightly, affection in her eyes. "And if he's right for you, I'm sure he agrees. You're excellent; don't try to change for him. It won't make you happy."

"You're right, as usual," she sighed, "And... I do want to talk to him, something you know very well. But who knows if he wants to talk to me?"

"Well, he keeps glancing over in our direction," Y/N said matter-of-factly, and Dolley's eyes went wide.

"He is? Wait, where is he?" Her gaze began to dart back and forth, and Y/N couldn't help her light laugh.

"He just got back from picking up his drink, and now he's at the table a few behind you," she said, dropping her voice before adding, "And I've already made awkward eye contact with him too many times, so now if you don't talk to him, I'm gonna look like a total creep."

"Y/N!" she scolded her, but the laugh in her voice betrayed her indignance. She glanced back over her shoulder, and Y/N saw James nod to her when he caught her gaze, the corners of his lips quirking up into a shadow of a smile. She offered him a shy wave.

Quite frankly, Y/N had never seen her like that before, not in all her years of knowing her. Dolley's baseline tended to be everyone else's two-ecstasy-pills-deep, and usually, other people in the mix just fueled the fire of her perpetual enthusiasm — Y/N had never seen a man make her timid, though, of all things.

She couldn't help but think it was kind of cute.

Dolley held his stare another moment, before he finally decided to stand, beginning to make his way over to where they were sitting, and Dolley spun around in her seat, her wide eyes meeting Y/N's. "He's headed over!" she whispered, but the panic in her voice wasn't quite authentic; more of it than Y/N would've expected was simply excitement.

"So I see," Y/N said, wry amusement coloring her tone. She glanced up to her right a moment later, taking a sip of her coffee, before saying, "It's James, right?"

Dolley let out a surprised squeak when he walked up on her left, almost flinching in her seat, and his smile was subtle.

"That would be me. And you are?" He raised his eyebrows at Y/N, taking a sip from his to-go cup.

"I'm Y/N. Dolley's roommate," she nodded to her with a grin. "I'm glad to officially meet you, after hearing about you for weeks on end."

"Y/N!" Dolley murmured, urgency thick in her voice, her accusatory stare what she seemed to think to be covert. As though James couldn't hear her from a foot away.

"I've been mentioned?" James looked pleasantly surprised, but there was no ego in his smile. Y/N nodded.

"Oh, yeah. More than a couple times," she assured him. "I can't seem to stop hearing about you, really."

He chuckled, and Dolley's gaze softened. "I should hope that's a good thing."

"I can corroborate," Y/N said. "So you're a PhD candidate?"

"That I am. Studying economics."

"So, what, you want to go into business? Accounting?"

"Public policy, actually."

"Oh, really?" Her eyebrows shot up, and her smile widened into a grin. "I like you already."

That time, his laugh was still quiet, but it was warmer, more robust. "Consider me flattered. Dolley speaks very highly of you, as well."

"Aww, Doll!" Y/N plastered on a pout, reaching across the table. "I knew you'd been secretly in love with me this whole time."

"You shut it," Dolley replied, and though she gave Y/N a pointed look, she was biting back a laugh.

"Really? You still don't wanna go public with our relationship?" Dramatized dismay permeated Y/N's voice, and anyone would've had to hand it to her - the hurt look she wore almost seemed authentic.

"Oh my God, Y/N," Dolley huffed. "That's about enough, thank you."

When she glanced back up, Dolley bit her lip once more; thankfully, James didn't look put-off by the interaction, only amused. A beat passed in silence, and Y/N shifted awkwardly in her seat, not sure what to do with the heavy, prolonged eye-contact taking place across from her. It wasn't until she picked up her mug and saucer, the ceramics clinking together, that they seemed to regain a sense of awareness.

James's eyes were wide as he glanced back at Y/N. "I... won't intrude on your coffee date any longer, but truly, it's been a pleasure, Y/N."

"Oh, no, no, don't go." She waved off his farewell, scrambling to pull her backpack onto her shoulder, picking up her dishes as she did so. "I have a meeting to be at that, really, I'm almost running late for, so please, stay. Keep Dolley company."

She gave him a bright smile as she stood, pushing her wooden chair out behind her as she collected her used napkin and mixing spoon, but Dolley looked hesitant. "Oh, that's not necessary, really. I'll be just fine—"

"Relax, Dolley. I know you deal with crippling loneliness in my absence; it's really nothing to be ashamed of," Y/N reassured her, her voice mockingly gentle. Dolley rolled her eyes; the sound that escaped her was all but a snort of laughter.

"Oh, of course, dear. Because what more could I want than to spend every minute of my day with you?" she replied sarcastically, and Y/N grinned.

"I know. It's a blessing and a curse." She took a few steps back, though, nodding to her abandoned seat as she started on her path toward the counter. "Seriously, though, James. Please, sit."

She saw him raise an eyebrow at Dolley before she turned to discard her dishes into the basin by the end of the counter.

"May I?" he asked. When Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, she caught just a glimpse of Dolley's sheepish smile.

"I'd like that."

Y/N took the back exit out.

___________________

"Are you sure I was included in that invite?" Y/N's voice was skeptical as she crossed the green toward Thomas's office, hours later. Apparently, hours that Dolley and James had ultimately spent together, taking a walk through the city for much of their afternoon. (When Dolley told Y/N that the two-mile loop near the Lincoln Memorial had taken them two hours to walk through, she had a sneaking suspicion walking wasn't all they were doing. Hopefully, they'd at least escaped the watchful eye of our oversized 16th president.)

"Yes, I'm certain you were," Dolley insisted from the other end of the phone's line. "He said it'd be great if I brought you."

"... This sounds suspiciously like a pity invite."

"It isn't a pity invite!" Y/N could hear the indignance in her voice.

"Dolley, why, exactly, would he want me there if it wasn't a pity invite?"

"... Because you're my best friend, and he's decided to make an effort to get to know you better?"

She laughed. "As much as I appreciate this idealized James Madison, I have a feeling it was more to the effect of 'I just saw your roommate and feel obligated to invite her'," Y/N corrected her. "But go to the party without me! Don't let me hold you back from having your fun, alright?"

"Please come? It wouldn't be the same without you." Dolley's voice was high, containing traces of what almost smelled like desperation. "It'll make me much more comfortable to have you along."

Y/N groaned. "So when you and James go make out in the bathroom, I'm supposed to, what, play truth or dare with all the other PhD candidates?"

"Why not?" Dolley's tone was mild, which made Y/N roll her eyes.

"No offense to James's friends, but I'm not sure I want to spend an evening making stunted small talk with them."

"You're such a warm person, though! You'd be quite alright."

"It'd be awkward!"

"Please, Y/N? I'll beg you if that's what it'll take."

She scowled at how soft, forlorn Dolley's voice had become. As far as she was concerned, this was akin to emotional manipulation. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yes. I like him so much."

She sighed. "I'm gonna say yes solely because I have somewhere to be and can't deal with this argument anymore. But you owe me."

Y/N could almost picture Dolley's sappy smile. "Thank you so much, dear. You're too good to me."

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new?" Her words elicited a laugh from Dolley, and Y/N continued, "But you know I'd do pretty much whatever you asked if you asked it in that I'm-about-to-cry voice, so I'm not sure this relationship is healthy for me anymore."

"Oh, of course; I'm truly a parasite," Dolley sighed. "Taking you into my house and home, paying for your meals — how evil of me."

"I pay half the rent, and we literally only eat ramen," Y/N defended, but the words were lighthearted nonetheless. "Next time you give up five perfectly good hours of a Friday night so that I can get laid, we'll call it even."

"Don't make any calls about Friday just yet. You haven't even seen James's friends." Dolley's voice was just teasing enough to placate Y/N. "I may not be the only one having some fun."

"Have you even seen James's friends?" Y/N asked dubiously, and Dolley's silence told her all there was to know. "That's what I thought. He's an econ student, so it's probably gonna be about eighty percent entitled rich men attending school on family money."

"Or they could all be just your type," Dolley reasoned, but by then, any efforts to talk Y/N out of her convictions were futile. "Tall, hot, and older."

"First off, I don't have a type, and second, just because you're dating an 'older man'," — The final two words were said mockingly — "doesn't mean that his older friends aren't still douches."

"I hate to have to be the one to break it to you, but that is absolutely your type."

"Based on what?"

"That professor of yours?"

"Dolley!" Y/N scowled, turning down the volume on her call just in case some passing pedestrians were notorious gossips with super-hearing. It was certainly possible. "Can you please stop talking about him like that? Don't make it a thing," she murmured, jaw tense.

"Oh, we're well past that, dear," Dolley said matter-of-factly, and Y/N could only roll her eyes. "But if you've agreed to the party, I won't push my luck."

"Smart choice," she muttered bitterly. "Anyway, I've gotta go. Talk to you later tonight?"

"Of course."

With that, she hung up the phone before Dolley could take advantage of her giving mood and start making further outlandish demands, tucking it into her coat pocket as she pushed open the door to Melos Hall. Unfortunately for her, the elevator was broken, and Thomas's office was several flights of stairs above her.

After at least eight long pauses for her to catch her breath, heaving as she leaned against the railing in the stairwell, and three stomach cramps, Y/N knocked on his door. "Anybody home?"

"C'mon in." His voice was soft, muffled through the door, and she opened it to find him all but slumped on his desk, resting his head on his hand as he graded papers he appeared to be rather cross with, and with more of said papers covering the entirety of the desk's surface (and much of the floor). He glanced up when she entered, and a soft grin split his expression. "Hey, I thought that was you."

"I'm in absolute awe of your pattern-recognition skills, really," she replied, tone dry as she let the door fall shut behind her, and despite the playful smile she wore, Thomas rolled his eyes.

"You actually here for anything, or am I gonna have to kick you out?"

She laughed. "I'm not here to derail your work, I swear." He raised a dubious eyebrow. "I was just stopping by to let you know that, assuming it's still on the table, I'd love the TA position."

"Oh, yeah?" His smile widened almost imperceptibly at her words, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "'M glad to hear it. Could've just shot me an email, though."

She shrugged. "I was headed this way anyway. Figured I may as well stop by."

"I'm not complainin'." She let out a soft huff of laughter at the words, but she could feel heat beginning to creep up the back of her neck. "'S good timing, anyway. Intro to IR just turned in an essay on Kant."

The soft groan she let out only served to amuse him further as she surveyed the wreckage of his office. "That's what all this paper is?" He nodded in confirmation, and she scrunched up her nose. "I'm not sure if I feel worse for the freshmen who had to write them or for you having to read them."

"Well, I should hope it's the freshmen," he said matter-of-factly, sitting back in his chair. The smile he wore was concerningly self-righteous. "'Cause, now, readin' these is your job, too."

Her eyebrows shot up; the dread in her gaze was the furthest thing from contrived. "... Is it too late to rescind my application as a TA?"

He shook his head. "Mm-mm. You're welcome to abandon ship."

She didn't like the satisfaction which grew in his gaze as she weighed her options; they both knew she wasn't considering turning down the position in earnest — that simple fact left Thomas unnecessarily smug. Another beat passed, and she sighed. "You're lucky this is going to look good on my grad school applications."

He laughed. "Sure am. I could use all the help I can get, right now."

"I can see that," she replied, voice laden with amusement at the state of his office.

However, Thomas said nothing more, and she shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the drawn-out silence. He raised an expectant eyebrow, and it took her a moment to grasp his intention. "Wait... d'you mean, like, right now?"

"Unless you're busy." He shrugged. His gaze was hopeful as she eyed warily the small stack of papers she'd spent the past few minutes trying not to crush under her boot. She sighed.

He grinned when she bent over to pick up the papers that'd floated to her side of the desk. "As depressing as it feels to say, I've got nowhere else to be on this fine Friday night."

"That's the spirit." He winked, and though she rolled her eyes, her amused smile was deep-set. "So, you're gradin' for accuracy and watchin' out for grammar, of course, but the points are really earned for analysis. The paper's on changes in the international system. They've gotta connect 'em back to Kant's maxims."

She let out a low whistle as she took a seat across from him, plucking a red pen from his cup and dropping her bag onto the floor. "That certainly sounds pretentious."

He laughed lightly. "You really tellin' me you didn't have to do anything like this as a freshman?"

"Oh, I wish I could say that, but unfortunately, my professor was apparently every bit the pseudointellectual you are." She nodded sadly, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Hilarious, sweetheart, really." In the dry sarcasm of his tone, the casual pet name didn't seem to register with him, but Y/N couldn't help but notice, and her breath caught. "Here, lemme get you a copy of the rubric. 'S nothin' too complicated; go easy on 'em. Got some STEM majors in the class who're just takin' it for the graduation requirement, so I'm not expectin' much."

She pursed her lips. "Are the essays that bad?"

He deadpanned as he turned back to her, sliding the rubric across the desk. "At least as bad as I'm makin' 'em sound."

Y/N let out a long, dramatic huff, rubbing her temples, and Thomas looked thoroughly entertained at her reaction.

"I'm in for a long few months, aren't I?"

______________________

Thomas texted her the next day, too — she'd been the one to ask for his number, its utility obvious considering she was now going to be working with him, but he didn't give it up without teasing her just a bit for asking. When she opened it, she found that his request was just for her to drop by and pick up as many more essays as she was willing to grade by Monday, but when she arrived at his office, it quickly became clear to both of them that she was in no hurry to leave.

She showed up around eight, a decision that had everything to do with her having been out all afternoon running errands and nothing to do with the unfortunately appealing idea of being in his office late into the night — or so she told herself. It was hesitant both when she offered to stay and work on them with him and when he accepted. As she'd cautiously anticipated, her new role felt like walking an impossibly fragile line, and it'd hardly been twenty-four hours.

Subliminal tension remained in the air, hanging heavier than either of them would've claimed, but the hours flowed by easily. The hills upon mountains of student work they had to dig through didn't feel like the burden they were, either, not with the light atmosphere they'd managed to create, cracking jokes and swapping input.

She couldn't place when it'd become so comfortable for her to be around him.

"Hey, can I get your take on this?" Y/N held up what must've been her twentieth paper of the night, red pen between her teeth, and Thomas glanced down from where he was standing beside the desk, sorting the finished papers for his classes.

"Mhm, what's up?"

"Personally, I kind of hate this kid's analysis, but I'm struggling to determine whether there's anything actually wrong with it or if I'm just biased." She pursed her lips. "Here, come look at this third paragraph."

He set down the essay he was leafing through and walked around to join her, resting one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk beside her. He wasn't looking in her direction, his lips pursed as he scanned the page. However, her heart rate had begun to pick up in the immediate proximity, and she was on edge, able to feel his body heat radiating off of him from just inches to her left. Her breath hitched when he spoke. "This essay's a mess."

Despite the tension in her body, she let out a surprised laugh. "My thoughts exactly."

"Which part are you strugglin' with?"

"Right here." She turned the paper slightly, its words now directly facing him, and tapped on the sentence that'd given her pause. "It's not a great interpretation of the quote he used, in my opinion, but it's one I've heard in academic circles time and time again. It's defensible, but since his organization is fundamentally nonexistent, I'm not sure how well he's defended it."

Thomas raised an amused eyebrow. "How much of your free time are you dedicatin' to discussin' Kant?"

Y/N only rolled her eyes, ignoring the thrum of her heart against her ribcage as he turned his head to face her. He was only inches away. "Oh, shut up; I'm not dedicating any." He eyed her with disbelief, and she could tell he was still stuck on her first sentence. "I took a class focused on this book in high school, alright?"

"What kinda high school did you go to?"

"The class was through a local university." She shrugged, and he looked rather impressed. The small smile he wore wasn't helping her spiking pulse. "What? I was hoping to graduate from college early. I would've, too, if I hadn't spent a year traveling to figure out my life."

"And your plan for gettin' college credit was to take a philosophy class, of all things? Does that even fulfill a credit requirement?" Despite the disbelief in his voice, he seemed somewhat fascinated with the idea, was watching her like she was some sort of a puzzle.

"Anywhere I went would've made me retake core classes," she said mildly, and he cocked his head to one side. It wasn't lost on her how he hadn't withdrawn even a centimeter; she could feel traces of his breath on her skin. "It was just another credit toward graduation."

He gave an obliging nod, a half-shrug at her words. "Guess so. You surprise me sometimes, though."

"It's also made your class a breeze, but that's just an added bonus," she added, and he laughed, breaking his deliberative demeanor.

"You really think my class is easy?"

She shrugged, wearing a self-contented smile. "My grades speak for themselves, don't they?"

"I seem to remember a couple nights of office hours that'd contradict that." He raised an amused eyebrow, giving her a pointed look, but her grin broadened.

"Listen, if you gave clearer instructions, I wouldn't need to show up here twice a week to ask you what the fuck you were talking about, alright?"

He gave a skeptical hum. "Now, why aren't you askin' your questions in class, then? 'S awfully selfish; I'm sure your classmates would benefit from hearin' the answers, too."

"I think they'd benefit more from you actually doing your job."

"If you aren't askin', how am I supposed to know what isn't makin' sense?" He shrugged, and the playful glint in his eyes had her gaze locked onto his. He didn't think a single second further before he continued; over the past few minutes, his mind had reverted to its setting from one fateful January night spent in the speakeasy on 4th Street. "Or, maybe, you've just been comin' here at night lookin' to get me alone."

She inhaled sharply; her stomach turned, and at first, neither of them broke the eye contact. When Y/N finally did, it was because her stare had trailed down to rest at his lips, and she swallowed roughly at the smug smile he wore. Her gaze jumped back to his — he raised an eyebrow. Apparently, her wandering eyes hadn't gone unnoticed.

Something about it was intoxicating, whether due to the musky scent of his cologne or to the wild, forbidden temptation of it all. Y/N was certain that, were this the Garden of Eden, she'd fare no better than Eve.

It was her nerves that saved her, ultimately. She was terrified to push that boundary, and despite his usually-lighthearted teasing, Thomas had resolutely decided where lay the line he couldn't cross. Thus, neither of them moved for another moment, but Y/N drew in a shaky breath, turning her head back to the paper before them.

"So, what's your conclusion on the essay?" Her voice was small, and it was only then that Thomas seemed to have remembered where they were. A shudder ran through his spine; it almost looked to be shaking him back to the present, metaphysically knocking some sense into him.

The silence was heavy as his eyes ran over the paper, muttering the words under his breath as he read and re-read the paragraph. He'd shifted further from Y/N, his adamant decision being that the more space there was between them, the less likely he was to forget himself, and his brow was knit as he stared down at the words. "This interpretation's full of shit," he huffed. "Think this kid plagiarized it; doesn't seem like he understands it. From what I can tell, he pulled half the language from other authors."

He picked it up with him when he drew back from Y/N, returning to his side of the desk. It was then that her breathing once again leveled out.

"So should I assume he's not getting the complexity point?" The expression she contrived was intended to be lighthearted, but it was laden with tension.

"'S doubtful. 'M gonna have to meet with him sometime this week. Just hopin' I won't have to report it as some kinda case of academic dishonesty." He folded it in half, pulling his briefcase onto the desk and tucking it in among his many other loose papers. "But for now, 's gettin' late; I need to head out. My roommate'll be wonderin' where I am pretty soon."

He didn't meet her eyes for another moment, instead focused on getting his office in order as much as it could be for the evening, and Y/N plunked his red pen back into its metal cup. She stretched as she stood from her chair wordlessly, letting out a light yawn. "Yeah, that's a good call. I think we're both a little out of it; probably not the best for grading essays right now." She offered Thomas a conciliatory smile when he glanced over at her. He nodded.

"I think you're right." A moment passed in silence as he dug through one of his folders, dropped something into one of the drawers of his desk. It almost seemed offhanded when he asked, "Any chance I can offer you a ride home? Your place is on my way."

"Oh, um..." She blinked as she trailed off, looking back at him in surprise as she picked up her bag. When she didn't continue, only eyeing him warily, he sighed.

"Don't look at me like that." He shrugged on his jacket. "I don't have some ulterior motive, alright? If you don't wanna accept, don't worry about it; I won't be offended. Just wanna make sure you're gettin' home safe."

"I dunno..." She paused, seeming to have corrected herself midsentence when she finished with, "... Professor Jefferson. I'm not sure it's the best idea."

"Your call," he said, and he hesitated for a long moment before continuing. "For the future, can I ask you to just tell me straight out if I'm ever makin' you uncomfortable? Wish I could pretend this was just any other circumstance—" He gestured between the two of them. "—but it's my first time spendin' a semester teachin' a student who I slept with before, and I'm really tryin' not to overstep."

How matter-of-factly he spoke made Y/N laugh, a genuine, albeit surprised, laugh. "Don't worry. I'm not uncomfortable; I just don't know if it's smart for me to keep testing my self-control."

He watched her skeptically as she spoke, pulling her own coat back on. "... Alright, but I'm serious. Don't hesitate to bring it up if I'm toein' a line."

She looked back at him, amusement thick in her gaze. "Thanks, but I'm not sure your untarnished intentions are going to stop this from being weird once in a while. It's also my first time having a professor who I've screwed, for the record."

He smiled. "I figured."

"But if I really minded," she continued, buttoning up her jacket. "I wouldn't spend so much time in your office hours, and I certainly wouldn't have agreed to be your TA. Seriously, relax."

He sighed. "That's... reassurin', actually."

"I'm glad."

"But what was that about you testin' your self-control?" He raised a teasing eyebrow, and she laughed outright.

"See, you say you're trying to respect my boundaries, but when you go down that path, I have to wonder exactly where you think those boundaries are."

"I'm drawin' the line where it stops just bein' talk, Y/N," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, though. 'S why I need to know your boundaries. You've gotta talk to me; I don't wanna push it 'n make you feel unsafe."

"You're a good guy for even asking this, Thomas," she said, and he didn't even react before she corrected herself, "Sorry; Professor Jefferson. But I mean it, you've never once made me feel unsafe. Please don't stress over it."

"Alright. Lemme know if that changes." He eyed her with a certain degree of worry. "As long as we're talkin' about you bein' unsafe, though, 'm still waitin' to hear exactly how you're plannin' to get home tonight."

She gave him a soft smile. "Is the offer for a ride still on the table?"

____________________

James's house party was exactly a week from that night. It'd been all Dolley wanted to talk about ever since they were invited, and Y/N couldn't help her consistent, underlying, low-level dread as she anticipated the event. She wasn't intimidated by the prospect of an apartment full of graduate students; that much was genuinely the truth. The real issue she had was with being in an apartment full of strangers while her only friend present was off being wooed by the grad student she'd now had her eye on for months.

She kept repeating to herself that it was only a few hours, and then she'd be able to hold it over Dolley's head until the day they were both six feet under.

"That's what you're wearing?" Y/N raised an eyebrow at Dolley's cable-knit sweater and black jeans, and she furrowed her brow.

"What's wrong with it? We're dressed practically the same."

"But I'm not going there tonight looking to getting laid," she pointed out, and Dolley huffed.

"If I change, you have to change. I can't look like I made more of an effort than you did; it'll make me seem out of place."

"Come on; this sweater's comfortable," Y/N groaned. "I've already agreed to go with you; I feel like my contribution is finished. I'm not trying to look hot; I'm trying to blend in."

"What if one of his econ-student friends is hot?"

"Then I'll wait until the night's over and never see him again." The look she gave Dolley very clearly read 'duh,' and Dolley scowled.

"Come on, you don't even have to wear anything flashy," she pleaded. "If I change, can't you just put on a tank top? Or something tighter? Or a skirt? Something?"

Y/N eyed Dolley's expression dubiously; she'd figured the emotional manipulation would've ended the week before when she agreed to come to the party with her, but apparently not. Ultimately, she sighed — even these past few weeks had been the longest amount of time she'd seen Dolley attached to the same guy. She could make an exception. "Fine."

Dolley squealed, pulling her into a hug. "Alright; go change quickly. Grab the nice vodka and meet me in the car."

"Wait, we're bringing the nice vodka?" Y/N called after her, incredulous. "Hang on, we spent almost twenty bucks on that! We can't bring it to share!"

Dolley didn't respond, and Y/N let out a sigh of defeat.

___________________

"James, hey!" When they arrived at his apartment, Dolley didn't waste a moment before pulling him into a hug. They hadn't even passed the doorway. While it seemed to have caught him by surprise, it only took him a second to process her sudden action before his arm fell to the small of her back.

"Hey, I'm glad that both of you could make it," he said, nodding to Y/N with a smile as she stood awkwardly behind them. Dolley finally pulled away. "Can I get you two something to drink?"

"That would be excellent." Dolley flashed him a wide smile as they walked in, Y/N pulling the door shut behind her.

"Actually, where are the drinks?" Y/N asked, hands tucked into her pockets as she surveyed the space. The apartment was cute, bigger than Y/N would've expected that James could afford on the budget of a student, and it was, as expected, littered with James's other friends, slumped on his couch, laying on each other, seated on the floor — wherever they could fit, really. The three who'd all slotted themselves into the same armchair were passing a blunt back and forth, and Y/N wondered how difficult it'd be for her to get in on that. "We brought a bottle."

James raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Mhm. Doll, it's in your purse, right?"

"Yeah, hang on a minute." Dolley's words were all but absentminded as she pulled her purse from her shoulder, unzipping it and beginning to dig through her mountains of knickknacks.

"Well, that's nice of you, but it was awfully unnecessary." James gave her a warm smile. "Let me show you both to the kitchen."

"Thanks, James," Y/N responded; Dolley seemed preoccupied with her purse, though, her brows knitting more and more tightly by the second as she overturned her empty lipstick tubes and discarded keychains. Y/N nudged her with her elbow. "Everything alright?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "We left the vodka in the car."

"You're kidding," Y/N groaned. "I was looking forward to breaking that open."

"I'm sorry, dear," Dolley said, lightly squeezing Y/N's forearm. "Let me just run out and get it. I'll be back in a moment."

"No, you're fine. I'll grab it," Y/N said quickly, plastering on a smile before Dolley could move. "I'd rather leave you two to your own devices. Can I borrow your keys?"

Dolley rolled her eyes at how Y/N wiggled her eyebrows; she even coaxed a laugh out of James. "Of course. Remember to lock the car, and be back soon."

"You've got it." Y/N sent her a wink as she caught the keys Dolley tossed her, turning swiftly on her heel toward their door.

_______________________

The walk back to the building's parking garage was cold; Y/N was grateful the concrete walls were there to stifle the chill of the wind, but she regretted letting Dolley talk her into that tank top.

She'd left the bottle in the glove compartment, apparently, something Y/N only found after digging through the trunk and the backseat. She didn't mind how long the expedition ended up taking her; the longer she could stall returning to the party, the better. The night would inevitably be painful, as she saw it; she had no desire to third-wheel James and Dolley for hours, so her best hope was to find someone to get drunk or high with.

Almost a half-hour had passed before she once again found herself at James's apartment door, still shivering from the cold spring night and, that time, armed with 750 milliliters of Absolut Citron Vodka. She was almost grateful for how long the walk up had been. By then, she could hear the bass booming from whatever music they'd set up; the sound of heavily overlapping chatter was muffled through the door yet still notably prominent. She rang the doorbell with hesitant fingers, wondering for a moment whether or not Dolley would even notice if she spent the remainder of the night getting drunk and playing Angry Birds in her locked car.

The click of the door unlocking broke her musings.

"Hey, so I got the vodka; do you know where Dolley—?" She cut herself off midsentence when it was swung entirely open. It'd taken her a moment too long to process who was standing before her, no longer in the slacks and button-down she'd gotten used to, but instead wearing a tight, v-neck t-shirt and jeans. She held Thomas's wide-eyed stare with one of her own. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, last I checked," he said. Her eyes widened. "What are you doin' here?"

She eyed him dubiously for another moment, unsure whether she could've just been losing her mind. He just watched her tentatively, and ultimately, she let out a halfhearted, breathy laugh. "James invited me. Do you know his friend Dolley?"

"I've heard of her," he responded mildly, and Y/N nodded, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, I'm her roommate." He didn't respond at first, still seeming hesitant to respond one way or another, and her shadow of a smile broadened to a cheeky grin; she extended her hand for him to shake. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Another beat passed without him knowing quite how to react, glancing down to her outstretched hand. "... Are you serious, right now?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" She raised an eyebrow. "...and you are?"

His skepticism didn't subside for another moment; the next ten seconds were akin to a standoff, and Y/N didn't let up with her cheery front. Finally, he let out a breathy laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Thomas. 'M James's roommate." He shook her hand obligingly, and she looked beyond self-contented at the entertained glint in his eye. "C'mon in."

She followed him inside, self-satisfaction building in her chest, and he glanced back over his shoulder to her. "So, almost everyone's in the livin' room, and drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever."

"Thanks. You've got a nice place," she replied, perusing the rooms as they crossed through them. "D'you know where James is, by chance?"

"Not sure; why?" His voice was raised over the racket flooding in from all sides.

"Because wherever he is, I'm sure Dolley isn't far behind," she said, voice low and bordering on sour, and Thomas grinned.

"I saw them goin' to his room a little while back, so you might not have a lotta luck." She groaned at his words, and he laughed quietly, looking to her with tentative eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he nudged her arm. "Here, c'mon. Let's get you a drink, and I'll introduce you to my friends."

Her eyebrows shot up. Quite frankly, she'd expected to be on her own for the evening, spending the next couple hours sniffing out the stoners who could help her make the time pass a little bit more quickly. Thomas's expression was wary at her reaction. "That okay? You're welcome to go it alone."

His gentle tone eased her livewire nerves. She offered him a small smile. "No, no, a drink sounds excellent. Thanks."

He grinned. "Alright, sweetheart. C'mon." Her skin jumped under his touch when his hand came to rest at the small of her back, leading her through the tightly packed crowd alongside him, but he didn't seem to notice. Though she could feel heat rushing to her cheeks, she followed without hesitation.

The pair emerged just a few short minutes later with two red Solo cups. Y/N appeared to be substantially less bitter than she had been, whether the smile she wore was because Thomas had managed to placate her with his advanced mixology skills (he'd never give away his elusive vodka Sprite recipe) or because of, for once, how relaxed he seemed with her, his arm having fallen to her waist as he gave her the 411 on everyone she'd soon find scattered on the couches.

Part of her couldn't help but be surprised, though she didn't let that ruin her relaxation. She supposed it must have just been the change in environment, but the difference in attitude between this Thomas and her Professor Jefferson seemed to be night and day. Gone was the cautious air of professionalism, the guarded front he carried when he discussed with her their most recent unit.

It may have just been because he was already two beers deep into the evening, but no matter.

Upon reaching his living room, Thomas was greeted enthusiastically by a few different (incredibly attractive) people, including the three she'd seen sharing a joint earlier on.

"Thomas!" one of the women shouted. "Come sit with us! Where have you been all night?"

"Oh, hey, Maria; 's nice to see you, too. I'm great, thanks for askin'," he said sarcastically, offering her a contrived smile, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, whatever. I just don't like being avoided, Jefferson," she replied, giving him an unamused look. "So are you joining us or not, hm? Time-sensitive offer."

He cracked a grin. "Yeah, yeah, alright." He glanced down to Y/N and raised an eyebrow, a silent ask as to whether or not she wanted to stay, and she gave him a small smile, a short nod.

They both took seats on the couch opposite Maria, Thomas nonchalantly greeting the man on at its furthest end who he called 'Monroe.' Y/N didn't bother to question it — quite frankly, she never expected to be in any sort of situation meeting Thomas's friends, and she certainly hadn't seen it coming when she was leaving home that night. She shifted in her seat, feeling rather self-conscious and out of her league on this.

"And who is your pretty friend, hm?" The man sitting beside Maria turned to Y/N with a bright, curious smile. "Where 'ave you been hiding 'er from us?"

At that, she laughed — his buoyant manner eased her nerves, if only in the least. "I'm Y/N."

Before she could determine exactly how to explain her knowing Thomas, Lafayette cut in, eyes shining. "Ah, you are ze TA, non?"

"Oh, um..." Her eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, that's me. You've heard about me?"

"We cannot seem to stop 'earing about you, chérie," he drawled, wearing a wry smile. "Although, I do not believe zat someone told us you would be 'ere tonight." Though he gave Thomas a pointed look, taking another hit of the lit blunt he held lazily between his fingers, and Thomas only rolled his eyes.

"James invited her, actually," he said. "Y'know his girl Dolley? Y/N's her roommate."

Y/N mentally archived his words; she was sure Dolley would enjoy hearing she'd been referred to as 'James's girl.' Lafayette raised his eyebrows. "What a twist of fate," he mused. "If not for James, we may 'ave only ever been able to 'ear your stories about 'er. It is lovely to meet you, Y/N."

"Yeah, you too." She offered him a timid smile, adjusting the straps of her shirt. "So what's Thomas told you about me, then?"

The woman sitting beside Maria on the end of the other couch, legs draped over her lap, interjected, "Just about everything, honey. I mean, first, all the gossip about him accidentally having slept with a student, of course."

While Y/N was thoroughly entertained, Thomas rolled his eyes, but how he was shifting in his seat betrayed his air of nonchalance. The woman continued, "And since then, you've been an ever-growing saga. My favorite story is still you going to his office just to yell at him." The look in her eyes was amused as they flickered between Y/N and Thomas. "Personally, I find it more entertaining than the grumbling about not knowing how to teach a student he's fucked, especially when the sex was so—"

"Alright, that's about enough, Ang," Thomas cut her off, looking more exasperated than annoyed as he shot her a warning look, and she wore a wide grin.

"Oh, come on, I was just getting started," she complained. "Not my fault you can't keep things to yourself. I just don't think it's fair to keep poor Y/N here in the dark."

"Yeah, really, Jefferson," Maria piped back up. "Don't you think she should get a say?"

She raised her eyebrows at Y/N with a playful smile, and she couldn't help the grin she wore that threatened to broaden. However, Thomas scowled.

"Remind me to get friends who aren't gonna rat me out, next time." He took a sip of his drink, eyeing Maria and Angelica dubiously, but neither of them wavered. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you're owning up to it?"

He looked over at her with an irked gaze, but the corners of his lips were quirked up. "You stay outta this."

"Hey, that isn't fair!" she protested, knocking her elbow into his, and he pursed his lips. "This is all absolutely my business. I feel like my privacy as a student's been violated, professor."

"Oh, so now you'll call me 'professor'?"

Despite how skeptically he was eyeing her, his smile grew, and she shrugged innocently. "I've been doing my best."

"'M sure you have."

"You don't sound too sure," she countered, taking a sip of her drink. "I don't like having my integrity questioned. Shouldn't you be able to trust your TA?"

"Maybe I will once you prove yourself worth trusting." He shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please. If anything, you're the one who's proved you can't keep a secret." The side of her thigh rested against his as she cast a pointed glance back at his friends. "I guess, next time, I'll have to be sure not to sleep with such a gossip, won't I?"

He grinned. "Good luck finding someone better."

He looked beyond self-satisfied as her eyes widened; her heart jumped to her throat. Despite everything, the air between them was charged, and Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

It took Y/N a moment to break his heavy gaze, not having noticed the silence stretching on throughout the group. Angelica and Maria exchanged a glance. It wasn't until he met Lafayette's skeptical stare that Thomas cleared his throat, cracking the atmosphere.

"I'm gonna go get myself another drink," he said, pushing himself up off of the couch. He glanced down at Y/N, and then turned to the rest of his friends. "Try not to traumatize Y/N while I'm gone."

"Oh, no need to worry," Lafayette said, his gaze alight, and Thomas narrowed his eyes skeptically. "We will take very good care of 'er."

________________________

Thomas returned later than he'd planned to — the couple broken bottles and failed keg stand he found in his kitchen were an unfortunate detour — but when he did, Lafayette had taken his seat, and Monroe had split. Y/N sat all but leaning into his side, giggling at whatever it was he was saying as they passed his joint back and forth, and in turn, Thomas took the now-empty seat on Y/N's other side.

She'd just finished shouting something over at Maria when Thomas spoke, breaking her focus.

"So I see you two got awful close while I was gone," he said, tone dry as he glanced between her and Lafayette, and Y/N only seemed to notice just then that he was even there. She turned to him with a mellow grin.

"Hey, Thomas, Lafayette was just telling me all about how you went to undergrad together." A hardly-contained giggle was concealed in her voice. He raised an eyebrow.

"That so?"

Y/N nodded, absentmindedly taking the blunt back from where Lafayette held it out to her. "I hear you were just as uptight then as you are now."

"Oh, I'm uptight, now?" When she shrugged unapologetically, he didn't meet her gaze, instead leaning around to look at Lafayette, who looked beyond pleased with himself. "So by 'take care of her' you meant you were gonna get Y/N high?"

Lafayette shrugged, wearing a lazy smile. "You did not ask me to elaborate on it, mon cher."

Thomas's deadpanned expression didn't change, but Y/N snickered at Lafayette's words before taking another hit. She leaned back onto his shoulder as she turned in her seat to face Thomas, scrutinizing the whole of his stature, and he winced when she inadvertently blew smoke into his face.

"What, are you jealous?" she drawled, her tone taunting, and Thomas raised an unamused eyebrow.

"'Jealous'?" he repeated, almost in disbelief, and she shrugged.

"Mmhmm." Her hum of agreement was drawn out dramatically. "Why do you feel the need to judge me for it? Y'know, if you wanted a hit, you could've just asked." When she extended Lafayette's joint to him as if it were an olive branch, watching him expectantly all the while, he hesitated, unsure if that was the candid conclusion she'd drawn. Her conviction didn't waver; he could only laugh.

"Alright, sweetheart." He leaned forward, and she looked pleased when he plucked it from between her fingers. "I think you've had about enough of that."

However, moments later, he put it out on a coaster, and she whined. "Hey. Don't be an ass." She plastered on a pout, kicking his calf halfheartedly, and she slumped back onto Lafayette, looking up at him with disappointment. "Looks like you were right about 'uptight.'"

Lafayette matched her frown, shifting so his arm was resting at her waist as they both faced Thomas. "And to think zat I paid good money just for zat to go to waste."

"Stop being a spoilsport, Thomas," Maria shouted, eyeing him with contempt. "You're not Y/N's mother; let her live."

"I'm not actin' like anybody's mother," he scowled, throwing a pillow in her direction, and missing by about a foot.

"Could've fooled me," Angelica muttered into her drink, and while Thomas glared at her, Y/N laughed.

"Oh, loosen up." Thomas's eyebrows shot up when she pulled her legs up into his lap, now fully laying on Lafayette's torso. "We aren't in class, professor."

He eyed her skeptically. "Y'know, if my friends didn't seem to like you more than they like me, I'd have started tryin' to kick you outta here by now." Despite his dry tone, the words held no bite, and she laughed.

"Well, I'm James's guest, not yours, so I don't think that's quite within your jurisdiction," she replied frankly, wearing a wide, sly smile. "Besides, you're just bitter I'm stealing your friends."

"She makes an excellent point," Lafayette interjected, wearing a playful smile, and Y/N giggled as she leaned back to look at him. However, Thomas only rolled his eyes.

Though no retort sat on the tip of his tongue, his focus instead on how his stomach turned as Lafayette's arm looped around Y/N's waist, pulling her close, any chance he had to respond died the moment the brief rapport between Lafayette and Y/N was interrupted, both their voices light.

"I'm glad to see that you've all made yourselves comfortable." Everyone turned, though at different rates, toward the voice at the other side of the couch. There stood one James Madison, looking as cool and collected as ever, Dolley at his side. However, she didn't so much hold up the composed air; her hair was mussed, though she'd obviously tried to push it back into place, if only hastily, and her cheeks were still flushed pink with James's arm around her.

"Hey, haven't seen you two in a while," Y/N said, wearing a sly, lazy smile. "What have you been up to back in James's room, huh?"

"We were just talking," Dolley defended timidly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, but her wide grin betrayed her bashfulness.

"Oh, I'm sure," Y/N replied, voice saturated with sarcasm. "And a prerequisite for that is obviously locking yourselves in his bedroom."

Dolley didn't respond, just pursed her lips, only meeting Y/N's gaze, but James laughed good-naturedly. "In any case, we've returned. I trust everyone's made you feel welcome, Y/N?"

She shrugged, glancing to the group around her. "More or less. Would've been better if someone hadn't decided to play bad cop and restrict any 'illegal or dangerous activity,'" she said, tying together all the haughtiness she could manage into her voice as she gave Thomas a pointed look. However, he only shrugged unapologetically.

Lafayette took that moment to pipe up, though. "And, now, why did you not bother to tell anyone zat Y/N would be joining us after we 'ad all 'eard so much about 'er?" His tone was accusatory, but James didn't quite seem to follow, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean 'after we had all heard so much about her'?" he echoed, but his gaze drew back to Y/N and then to Thomas, and he raised his eyebrows, seeming to have connected the dots. "Hang on, is this your Y/N?"

Y/N couldn't have explained why she felt her skin begin to heat at the words, but she certainly wasn't about to protest them. Thomas scowled. "She's my TA, assumin' that's what you mean."

"That was not what I meant, but it answers my question regardless," James said, but as he spoke, Dolley's face split into a grin.

"So I take it you're 'Professor Jefferson,' then?"

"Thomas," he corrected her with an easy smile, extending a hand for her to shake. "And where've you heard about me?" He glanced to Y/N with his words, a teasing eyebrow raised, and she huffed.

"I see that IR degree you like to flaunt must not have tested your inductive reasoning skills." Her scowl didn't hide her unease, and he grinned, lightly squeezing her calf where her legs were draped over his.

"No need to be so hostile, sweetheart."

Dolley's smile was knowing as she glanced between the two of them. "In any case, I've been told quite a bit about you. Though, you're much bigger in person."

That one genuinely had him confused. "Bigger than what?"

"That faculty profile picture on the university website that a certain someone keeps showing me?" she explained, and he laughed outright. In the meantime, Y/N had managed to weasel Lafayette's drink from his hand and drain the cup in one fell swoop, claiming that 'she needed it far more than he did.' He didn't put up much of a fight.

However, Thomas was far from done. "Oh, really, now?" he said, lips pursed to stifle his entertainment as he looked over to Y/N, meeting her wavering glare. "Wonder who that could be."

Y/N didn't respond, didn't trust her voice enough to try to when Thomas's hand rested on her knee, and she could feel her cheeks flare. "I don't know how I'm expected to make it through tonight without weed," she grumbled, shifting where she sat against Lafayette, not meeting Thomas's eyes. Dolley's grin mirrored Thomas's, then.

"Aw, is everything okay, dear? Did I say something wrong?" she asked mildly, and Y/N's withering gaze turned to her.

"Oh, don't you start," she said, accusation heavy in her voice as she jabbed a wavering finger at Dolley. "You're really gonna throw me under the bus like this after I came here just so you could fuck James?"

To Y/N's dismay, Dolley looked far from ashamed at her words, her playful expression holding firm. "I think that perhaps you're just jealous."

Y/N hummed noncommittally. "Mmh, don't give yourself too much credit, babe. You're not that good in bed."

While Dolley could only gape at her for another moment as she passed Lafayette back his empty plastic cup, something he didn't seem to mind, James looked thoroughly entertained. "Is there something happening between the two of you that I should be worried about?"

"Nah, don't worry." Y/N shifted in her seat to turn, looking back at him now. "You're more than welcome to my sloppy seconds."

"Y/N!" Dolley all but recoiled, seemingly incredulous at the claim. When Y/N only shrugged in response, she turned to James with wide, pleading eyes. "Believe me, she and I were never together."

"Oh?" he asked, turning to Y/N, who sighed.

"Alright, alright. I don't wanna push it, so I'll confess: I broke it off with Dolley before it could ever get that far," she drawled, having contrived a forlorn facade. "Her loss, really."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Dolley said, rolling her eyes, and when a grin split her friend's expression, Dolley turned to Thomas, meeting his amused gaze. "Would you care to corroborate?"

Then, it was Dolley's turn to be entertained. Thomas was only glad they couldn't see the blood drain from his face at the point-blank question, though his surprised unease was obvious in his wide-eyed stare. He tensed, and Y/N could feel it as the fingertips of his hand resting on her lower thigh tightened around her leg. "Excuse me?"

Y/N bit back a smile. She glanced between the two of them, and Dolley's expression was a duplicate of her own hardly-suppressed laugh, but seeing Thomas's obvious discomfort, she could only sigh.

"My buzz from Lafayette's weed is wearing off," she said, the words directed at no one in particular, withdrawing her legs from their place on Thomas's lap and pushing herself up from where she sat against Lafayette. She turned to Dolley when she stood. "I'm gonna grab myself something to drink. You wanna come with me?"

She swallowed her grin. "I'd love to."

Y/N looped her arm through Dolley's as she began to pull away from the group, dealing out a fleeting apology to James for stealing his girl. Once they were out of earshot, had reached a quiet lull with the crowd in the kitchen, Dolley turned to Y/N with an arched brow.

"You and Professor Fuck-Me were getting pretty friendly back there, weren't you?"

"'Professor Fuck-Me'?" Y/N repeated with a snort. "Creative."

"I'm entirely serious, dear," Dolley said, wearing a teasing smile as she nudged Y/N with her elbow. "I faintly recall saying something about James's friends being just your type. Was I wrong?"

"Oh, come on, don't do this," Y/N groaned. "We've long since agreed that nothing's going to happen. Him being James's roommate doesn't suddenly change the fact I'm an undergrad, for fuck's sake."

"Well, if he and James are around the same age, he isn't much older than you and I. So if I can get with James, why would you and Thomas be so illicit?"

"Because James doesn't work here, Dolley," she said, looking at her seriously as she reached for the vodka they'd brought (and she'd tucked out of sight behind the toaster next to the fridge). "Thomas, a professor, getting with me, a student, could end his career. You do realize that, don't you?"

Dolley sighed as she dug through the cooler in front of the counter, ultimately withdrawing a Fanta, and Y/N quirked a brow. Dolley was either preparing to be their designated driver, or she was trying not to get so buzzed that James wouldn't fuck her, and Y/N could only hope it was the former. After a moment, Dolley responded, "Yes, I know it's futile, but isn't it a nice thought?"

"...Sure." Y/N looked skeptical.

"Oh, please, you know it, too," Dolley reasoned, dismissing Y/N's hesitation with a wave of her hand. "You're clearly attracted to one another, and I'm dating his roommate. It would be—"

"Can we stop talking in impossible hypotheticals?" Y/N cut her off. "I get that you think it'd be fun, but I'm both his student and his TA. It's not like that. He and I are friends." The added emphasis on her final word did little to dissuade Dolley, but Y/N had something of a point. Why hope for what you can't have?

Before Dolley could respond, Y/N went on, "But, hey, can we go back to the fact that you and James are dating now? Since when? Why didn't you tell me?"

She bit her lip to keep back her smile. "Oh. Well, it's not... official, really, but he asked me on our first actual date just a couple of hours ago. We're doing dinner and a movie next week."

"Dolley!" Y/N exclaimed, swatting her arm. Her jaw was slack, her awestruck expression mildly contrived, but her excitement was entirely genuine. "That's so exciting. I'm really glad for you. Seriously."

"Thank you, but we've yet to see how the date actually goes," Dolley said. Y/N didn't appreciate her dismal tone.

"You already know him pretty well. And you already know you like him," Y/N pointed out. "I think you'll have a good time, but you can always text me if you need me to call you with a horror story about how my spleen gave out and I desperately need you to drive me to the emergency room."

"I appreciate the offer, dear, but shouldn't you call an ambulance instead?"

"Under this healthcare system?" Y/N eyed Dolley as though she was losing her mind. "I'd sooner Uber."

"How lovely to hear that you'd die if I weren't around to take care of you," Dolley said dryly, finally cracking open her soda. "I can only imagine what you'll do after graduation."

"Get health insurance, ideally," Y/N huffed, the sound akin to a wry laugh, but her heart wasn't in it — even with all the hot-for-teacher jokes she'd been making for the past few weeks, that was her least believable quip. She took a long sip from the fresh, new, shiny Solo cup she'd poured herself and nudged Dolley. "Hey, when we go back, you've gotta stop making jokes about me screwing Thomas. They're cute behind closed doors, but you're just making him uncomfortable."

Dolley didn't meet Y/N's eyes as she started back toward their living room. "Alright, but only because I love you. I wouldn't want Thomas to take my place in your heart."

"Aw, Doll, he could never!" Y/N called after her, "You know I've only got eyes for you."

"You'd better." Dolley sent her a wink as they reached James and company.

When they finally turned, breaking the playful eye contact, they found Lafayette and Maria crouched on the floor beside their coffee table, laying out a hoard of plastic cups. Y/N assumed they weren't looking to try their hand at speed stacking. "Are we playing beer pong?" Dolley asked, glancing between the pair.

"Yeah, you in?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow as she held up a ping-pong ball between two fingers. Dolley grinned.

"Absolutely." When she turned to James, though, Y/N was mildly offended; she folded her arms as Dolley offered him a hand. "Care to join me?"

He joined her wordlessly, giving a shrug, but he wore a wide smile, and Y/N scoffed loudly. "Excuse me?" James looked taken aback at her combative tone, turning swiftly on his heel to face her. Nevertheless, Dolley wasn't taking her too seriously, and for good reason. "You sleep with one grad student, and suddenly, years of winning beer pong together mean nothing to you?"

Dolley rolled her eyes, glancing between her and Thomas with a sly, growing smile. "No need to be jealous, dear. I'm sure you can find a perfectly suitable graduate of your own."

When Dolley met his gaze, watching him expectantly, he looked her up and down, a dubious eyebrow raised. "What're you lookin' at?"

"Oh, sure, act as if you don't know," she said, stare turning skeptical. "Y/N, you may want to find yourself a more perceptive professor in the future. I'm not so sure about this one."

Y/N laughed when she turned back away from the table to see Thomas's bewildered expression. "Oh, c'mon, lay off of him." Y/N tugged Dolley back over to her by the arm, and as she finally joined her, giggling, Y/N stole a fleeting, amused glance back at Thomas before looking to Lafayette with a smile. "You need a partner?"

The man in question folded his arms, eyes shining and his brow raised. "Are you offering?"

"Only if you're willing to accept." She shrugged. "After all, I just got dumped by my old partner," —she gave Dolley a pointed look to which she responded with a wide, unapologetic grin— "so it looks like I'm back on the market."

Neither noticed Thomas eyeing them dubiously from the couch just off to one side.

"Alright zen, Y/N," Lafayette responded, a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. "Welcome to ze winning team. You 'ad better not tarnish my perfect record." He threw an arm around her shoulders, and obligingly, she went alongside him to the far side of the table. Thomas knocked back the rest of his drink in one heavy sip.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Y/N said, her gaze dragging over the elaborate (and precarious) setup on the low-set coffee table — she pitied the rug beneath it; it almost certainly didn't know what it had coming. When she looked up, Dolley and James had taken their positions across from them. However, while Dolley looked like she meant business, eyeing the scene before her, brow knit as she rolled a ping pong ball between her fingers, James looked slightly perturbed.

Y/N glanced back to Lafayette with a teasing look. "But you'd better be able to keep up."

"Mm, I make no promises, yet with zat attitude, you may 'ave just met your match." He looked her up and down appraisingly, and when she caught sight of the mischievous glint in his eyes as they stalled toward her hips, she swallowed hard.

"We'll see about that," she replied, and despite the confidence she tried to inject into her voice, the words came out meek under his heavy gaze. He grinned at the sudden timidity of her smile; when his arm came to rest at her waist, pulling her back around to look at the table before them as he promptly began talking strategy, heat rose in her cheeks. Her mouth was dry.

And Thomas was nowhere to be found.

_______________

The night didn't come to a close for hours, which was saying something considering how late it'd begun, and several (entirely successful) games of beer pong later, the crowd was just beginning to dwindle. James and Dolley seemed to be attached at the hip, something which had Y/N feeling more conflicted than she'd have liked to — she was glad to see them happy, certainly, but her own Dolley deficiency meant that, for the most part, she was on her own in navigating her novel state of limbo with Thomas, as confusing as it was exhilarating. She could only pretend to mind it, though.

She'd latched onto Lafayette at some point among their continued victories; she'd liked to have chalked it up to his friendly, outgoing nature, making her feel easily welcome, but she couldn't pretend that it wasn't in large part due to the tight tank top he wore and the circumference of his arms. And she made sure to tell him so, too, as the night went on and she sank deeper into the setup of what was sure to manifest an impressive hangover come morning. Lafayette's breezy laugh at her proclamation put her at ease. Neither took the interaction too seriously.

At the end of the day, her easy willingness to fall into the mellow atmosphere he dragged alongside him had less to do with him and more to do with her desperation to stop focusing on how Thomas had hardly said five words to her since Dolley had earlier been sure to tell him how utterly enamored Y/N was with him. That was also her motivation to throw back whatever liqueur came her way, and while those two impacts may not pay off long-term, for the time being, they only meant getting drunk with an unreasonably attractive Frenchman. Y/N sleeping with her professor may have been off-limits, but no one said anything about the touchy-feely exchange student with the blinding smile and the sharp tongue. She couldn't help but briefly wonder what else his tongue was good for.

As the party finally came to a close, and as people began to say their goodbyes, the remaining attendees were scattered around their apartment, far more sparse than they had been.

Y/N stumbled out of their bathroom bleary-eyed and with her phone's flashlight on. Dolley had long since withdrawn back into James's bedroom, and Y/N couldn't even complain — she was just relieved that she couldn't hear whatever they were up to from where she stood.

She kept a hand on the wall to her right as she unsteadily navigated the straight hallway, much more of a challenge than it should've been, all the while her thoughts oscillating between her internal turmoil over Thomas's sudden aloofness and how in the world she was supposed to get home five drinks closer to the end of the night than she'd begun. With her mind elsewhere, she didn't process her flashlight catching the silhouette of the lumbering figure who'd suddenly emerged from the doorway just before her until it was a second too late.

He noticed the moment he entered the hallway, however; he didn't have enough time to stop it short.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled forward, tripping over his shoe and grasping desperately at his clothing in her desperate bid not to end up on the floor with a carpet burn all the way down her chin and an ache in her chest.

"Woah, woah, woah." He turned to her frantically, the panic in his eyes fueling his actions to be just quick enough. It didn't stop her from falling — he was no miracle worker — but she fell instead into an unsurprisingly strong chest, large hands finding her waist. She dropped her phone somewhere in the havoc, and he winced as the flashlight shone directly up into his face; despite this, his expression eased when he saw the smile she wore upon catching sight of his face. "You alright, there?"

"Thomas, hey." Her eyelids drooped in her tired enthusiasm. "Where have you been all night? Missed you. We all missed you." The heavy pout she wore with the claim just made him chuckle, and she took in a deep breath, stifling a yawn, as she tried to pull herself up from her hands on his shoulders. "And when were you this tall?"

He laughed, helping her back up to a standing position, but back on her feet, she was still relying heavily on him for a crutch. "I've been around, sweetheart. Guess you just didn't notice me."

"Or you've been avoiding me," she accused as he helped her back toward the living room. Her staggering steps were far from steady, and her voice was reduced to a weary drawl as she stumbled over her own feet.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, though. "Not my fault you've been so focused on Lafayette all night."

"Not my fault he was the one being nice to me," she grumbled, but almost the moment the words left her mouth, she looked up at him with apology in her gaze. He didn't even have time to react. "Not that you haven't been nice. I didn't mean that you're not nice. You're so nice, too. You're too nice. I don't—"

"Relax," he cut her off, his voice soft and eyes glinting with amusement. "No offense taken."

"This is what I mean by too nice," she said, words slurred. She jabbed a finger into his shoulder even as they walked. "Too forgiving. Learn to be meaner."

"So you'd rather I did take offense."

"That's not what I said," she protested with a huff, the sentence sounding as childish as her intentions felt. She sniffled. "Stop twisting my words. I was so happy to see you before; can we go back to that? Meanie."

He quirked a brow. "I'm mean again, now?"

She scowled. "No. I wish you were mean, 'cause then I wouldn't just have to blame myself for being bitter, and it's not fair, either, and I'm just moping 'cause you haven't been around all night. When I walked in and saw you, I thought my night might be okay, asshole. Didn't know I'd hardly see you."

"You've seen plenty of me," he countered, and she grinned.

"Oh, yeah? In more ways than one, right?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and his deadpanned stare only made her burst into a fit of giggles. He couldn't help his small smile. Despite her protests of his not having been around all night, this was the most attention she'd paid him since being introduced to Lafayette, and he couldn't say he minded the paradigm shift.

"Somethin' like that. How much have you had to drink?" he asked, and her shrug with her shoulder pressed into his side was halfhearted.

"Lost count. I'm gonna regret it in the morning, but not so much I'm gonna spend four hours throwing up." She grinned, trying to nudge him, but her elbow just brushed against the front of his shirt in a feat of hand-eye coordination. "So I obviously did perfect."

"'Obviously'," he echoed, looking down at her dubiously. Her footsteps stalled as she reached down to pick up her phone, struggling to find the button to turn the flashlight off. She struggled to stifle a yawn as she reached around to put it in her back pocket.

"Too bad you didn't have tequila. Then I might've gotten less conscious. If you weren't so fucking nice, I might be pissed," she said matter-of-factly. He just hummed passively. "Where's Lafayette?"

"How would I know? You're the one who's been hangin' onto him all night." There was a certain gruffness in his voice that hadn't been there before, but Y/N was too addled to pick up on it. She frowned, slumping against his chest. "You shouldn't be tryin' to go home with him after this many drinks, anyway."

"I wasn't trying to go home with him," she pouted, but when her steps stuttered, when she struggled not to trip over her own feet, Thomas wrapped an arm tighter around her waist, and she didn't stop him. "I was just gonna ask him for a ride home, 'cause who knows what Dolley's up to with James by now. You don't have to be so protective, y'know. I'm an adult."

"Hey, I know," he said softly, and although she wouldn't have readily admitted it, his gentle tone went far to placate her. "'M sorry."

"You should be," she huffed. "Saying I'm just here to fuck your friends. Can't believe it's what you think of me."

"It's not; that's not what I was sayin'," he defended, but when he looked down at her with a frown, she refused to meet his eyes, gaze fixed firmly on her own feet. "C'mon, sweetheart. You can't really think that."

"You promise?" He couldn't help his pang of guilt when she looked up at him with a wide-eyed, trusting stare, on the brink of tears. He offered her a soft smile, squeezing her side lightly.

"Promise," he confirmed. "Now let's get you out of here; you're wasted. I'll call a cab."

She groaned. "No, don't. I don't wanna get in a car alone with a stranger when I'm this smashed. That's not safe."

Thomas chuckled lightly at her words, raising a surprised eyebrow. "How's your judgment better when you've had a little too much to drink?"

"Shut up," she grumbled, and though she tried to shove him by the shoulder, he wasn't all too dissuaded. "Are Maria and Angelica still here? Think they'd wanna carpool? They seem nice. I could probably convince them."

"I'm sure you could, but they're both long gone."

"So who's still here?" she whined, "I'm too tired to walk home. I don't wanna."

"Y'know, I do have a car," he pointed out. She scowled.

"Yeah, congrats."

"And I can drive you," he added, looking down at her expectantly. She shifted in his grasp, letting out a noise of reluctance.

"No, Thomas, you can't," she said, her voice watery. "You're really, really sweet for offering, and I really appreciate it, but no, I can't ask you to do that when you aren't already leaving anyway. But that's thoughtful. Thank you."

"Seriously? I'm offerin'." Worry was clear in his eyes as she dragged herself forward, clinging to his shoulders. "You don't have too many options, now."

"No, no, it's fine." Her words were slow, the syllables dragging on as she buried herself further in his embrace. "I'm gonna find someone. What about your friend Monroe? Isn't he gonna have to drive himself outta here?"

"'S there somethin' wrong?" She could hear his frown in his voice. "Or d'you just really not want me to drive you that badly?"

"Everything's okay, I'm fine." She let out a short huff as he slowed to a halt, still propping her up. "I do want you to drive me, but I also don't wanna ask you to drive me after you've been avoiding me all night, but I wanna hang out with you. And I know the feeling isn't mutual, and I don't want you to feel like you've gotta drive me. 'M sorry."

"Hey, what're you sorry for?" He nudged her softly. "I haven't been avoidin' you. I dunno what makes you think so."

"It's okay; don't worry. I get it," she assured him, and her smile looked slightly dazed as she rested a hand on his chest. "It's weird that your roommate invited your TA who you fucked to the house party you threw. I know you're just trying to respect my boundaries. And you're such a nice person for it. Honestly. Seriously."

"I'm bein' serious, Y/N," he defended, despite her sappy tone. "'M not avoidin' you."

"You don't gotta defend yourself! It's okay." She gave him an understanding smile, but as her bottom lip pushed out, it was closer to a pout. "I'm lucky you're so careful and sweet about everything that's happened. With us sleeping together, and all."

"I got the implication," he said, a trace of a laugh in his voice.

"Okay, well, I wasn't sure," she defended. He chuckled. "I'm just saying, I'm lucky it was you. It coulda been someone who wanted to exploit this weird dynamic. I'm not sure if you've realized, but you've got a lotta power here."

He furrowed his brow. "I'd never do somethin' like that."

"I know," she agreed softly, and the look in her watering eyes was doting.

She inhaled shakily when she broke his gaze, trying to continue to his living room, but again, when she proved to be a little less steady than she'd thought, her center of balance not quite where she expected, she let out a surprised squeak.

"Woah, there," Thomas laughed, catching her before she could fall any further. She hung desperately onto his arms. "Alright, let's go. Let me drive you home."

She hummed reluctantly. "This is exploitation. You know I'm too tired to be pretending I don't want you to since it'd be so much more trouble for you, and I know you're too nice to insist after I tell you not to. How am I supposed to say no?"

"You ever consider that you aren't?"

Her huff was halfhearted, and she still wore a wide smile. "Alright, alright. You win. Bully."

He grinned. "Mmh, I'm really the worst."

___________________________

Getting her out of his apartment and down the stairwell to the garage was quite a process, but twenty minutes later, they were pulling out in his Bentley because of course he couldn't just drive a Subaru like the rest of us. They drove the first few minutes in a warm silence, Y/N still mildly addled with fatigue and vodka.

Thomas stole a glance at her to see her leaning her head back against the chair, her eyes shut, and her soft smile elicited his own. "You have an okay time tonight?"

She hummed, not opening her eyes. "Yeah. I really, really liked your friends. They were all so sweet. It was so nice of Lafayette looking out for me all night. He's nice."

She didn't see Thomas's lips quirk down. "Yeah. Lafayette's really somethin'."

She cracked a eye open to look at him; the tension was clear enough in his voice that even she couldn't miss it. "You okay?"

"Fine."

She frowned. "I know I didn't see you much tonight, but... you know I wasn't actually mad when you took Lafayette's weed, right?"

The question caught him off guard, less for the question itself than for what she was reading into the sudden hostility in his demeanor. "Seriously?"

"It was no big deal," she said softly, tapping her fingers on his car's central console. He laughed. "I know how good your intentions were. You're just... such a caring person." Her huff was quiet, and she put on a small pout. "You're too sweet sometimes, and I dunno what to do with it. Sorry if I made you feel like you weren't. You're such a good person, Thomas. I'm sorry."

Her voice broke with her final sentence, and she took a deep breath, sniffling and pursing her lips, and Thomas looked over, a concerned eyebrow raised. "Are you... tearin' up?" She didn't respond, only nodded, trying to hold down the tears building in her throat, and his gaze melted. "Aw, sweetheart. Hey, relax. It's ok."

His hand covered hers where it sat on the central console, squeezing it lightly, and she looked over at him with a sentimental smile. "'M not—" She inhaled shakily. "I'm not sad. I just really appreciate you. You're so nice. You're always worrying about making sure I'm safe. If you weren't around, I probably would've been abducted, like, probably twice by now."

"I'm not sure tryin' to make sure no one kills you is the height of altruism."

"Yes, it is," she insisted, threading her fingers into his. She didn't see his small smile. "You've called me definitely at least four Ubers by now, and this is the second time you've driven me home. And this gas isn't cheap."

He shook his head, amusement shining in his gaze. "Well I'm not gonna let you pay for your own Ubers. I know how tight money is when you're an undergrad."

She groaned. "Stop being so thoughtful. It's insufferable. You're just reminding me how obnoxious everyone else is 'cause you're always so fucking kind."

He stole another glance in her direction, noting how tired her smile looked, but her gaze was soft despite her facade of exasperation. "I dunno about that. You did think I was avoidin' you all night."

"Yeah, but you didn't wanna make things weird because of our weird history, and I get it! It's probably right. But..." She turned her head, still resting against the back of her seat, to watch him. "Thanks for not making it weird or just acting like I'm some kid who you don't wanna be around. I really liked meeting your friends. Thanks for introducing me." Her thumb brushed across the back of his hand, and her thoughtful gaze fell to where their fingers were interlinked. "I was dreading tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" He gave her a concerned look, and the corners of her lips twitched up. Her warm gaze was a comfort.

"Mhm. I didn't wanna come and I wouldn't if Dolley wasn't so into James, but she really likes him so much," Y/N said, her lazy words running together. "I even put on my good jeans for her 'cause she was worried about being overdressed. Love her so much. But I thought this night was gonna be such a big sacrifice and, like, hours of misery."

"I'm glad it wasn't," Thomas said, and her smile broadened as she met his soft eyes.

"Yeah. Me too. Thanks for treating me like we're friends."

"Aren't we friends?" He raised a hesitant eyebrow at that, at the quiet notice he took of the bittersweet trace in her voice. Her eyes widened.

"I... are we?" She blinked hard, turning toward her door as he took a left turn, as she was afraid her eyes were again beginning to water. "I didn't think you thought we were. I didn't think you wanted to be friends, since you're always keeping me at arm's length, I guess."

"I'm drivin' you home from my apartment at one in the morning," he said matter-of-factly. "I dunno if there's still any degree of removal, there."

"You didn't want me at your apartment in the first place, and you don't have to defend yourself." Her gaze caught on a passing streetlight. "I just didn't think you wanted to be friends."

"I'd like to think we're friends," he said quietly, and she squeezed his hand lightly. He didn't comment on how absurd it was that she thought this was how he treated all of his acquaintances.

"Me too." She sniffed again, reaching up to rub at the corner of her left eye.

"And I'm sorry if I've been holdin' you at arm's length," he added. "I'm just tryin' to keep the fact that we slept together the first night we met from havin' some kinda outsized importance. Don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"You're so respectful. Fuck. Thanks, Thomas," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut to hold any tears at bay. "Thanks for everything."

He smiled. "'S been my pleasure."

___________________________

When they arrived at her building, he offered to walk her up to her apartment, and she didn't put up even a moment of resistance. She knew just as well as he did that trying to make it all the way up to her floor alone would be a losing battle.

They'd been waiting for the elevator for about a minute when she began monologuing an overly-emotional apology about when she went to his office to yell at him, which turned into one about how she wasn't even halfway through the papers he needed to be graded by Monday, which turned into one about how she was exploiting him as a Google Translate substitute for her French class. (She swore she wasn't using him as a means to an end.)

Her eyes were teary when they reached her floor, and he led her down the hall with an arm around her waist as she continued to gripe about how unreasonably kind he was.

"But I'm serious, Thomas, if you weren't so fucking nice all the time, you wouldn't be so easy to exploit, and I wouldn't feel so guilty," she whined, "I can't believe it sometimes."

"Sorry?" he said hesitantly, fighting back a smile at her indignance. She scoffed.

"Why're you apologizing?" she asked, plastering on a pout. "I'm calling you nice, asshole."

He had to laugh, then. "Sure you are, sweetheart."

"I am!" she huffed, folding her arms and looking up at him with wide, watering eyes. "I swear."

"Alright, alright, I believe you," he assured her, and as she sighed, he could feel her shoulders relax against him. He looked back up, then, gaze scanning the walls of the apartment building. "Now, remind me which one of these rooms is yours?"

"566." She sniffled, still watching him as he walked her down the hall.

"Okay. Only a little further."

"Thanks for walking me up, Thomas," Y/N said, the ghost of a yawn stifled in her voice. She reached up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "You're so sweet."

"Y'know, I think you might've mentioned," he replied, tone playful, and she groaned, dropping her head against his side.

"Shut up," she grumbled. "I'm being serious. Don't appreciate your sarcasm."

"I'm only playin', alright?" He squeezed her side as he tugged her along, and she wore a soft, reluctant smile. "Now, are you gonna be okay tonight? There anything you need before I go? Are you gonna need anything for your hangover? I can pick up some ibuprofen."

"No, no, that's okay," she said, her eyes drifting shut. She was too sleepy to do anything but trust that he wasn't about to lead her astray. "Just wanna sleep. That's all."

"Okay." She nearly tripped when his footsteps stopped rather abruptly, her grip tightening around his arm to hold herself up. "Looks like we're here."

"Shit. Right. Gimme a minute to get the door." She withdrew her apartment key from her purse with little trouble, but unlocking the door was a different story. She put a hand out against the wall as she stepped out of Thomas's embrace, fumbling with the lock above the doorknob, and she'd scratched three different parts of the wood finish when Thomas's hand ghosted down her forearm.

"Wanna let me help you with that?"

She smiled when she turned to see him watching her with a brow raised. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

She passed off the key, and his other hand fell to the small of her back as he gently pulled her aside. "There you go." He turned the knob about a minute later, handing her back the key, his gaze soft. "G'night, sweetheart."

Though she dropped her key into her purse without protesting, before she went in, she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. "Night. I'll see you," she murmured, but when she pulled away, she still hung off of his shoulders, wearing a demure smile. "Unless you wanna come in?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Y/N, you’d better not be serious." When no sign surfaced that she may have been joking, he sighed, but his hands didn't leave where they'd dropped to on her waist. "You know I can't. Even if I weren't your professor, you're well past drunk. Go to bed."

"Well, I won't tell," she sang, blinking innocently. "Who's it hurting?"

"You're not lucid right now, sweetheart. You don't know what you're saying."

"Uh-uh. I know exactly what I'm saying." She dragged a finger down his chest, biting her lip. "You know it'd be fun. We had a nice night last time."

"Y/N," he sighed, and with how hopeful she sounded, guilt was building in his chest. She frowned.

"Fine. I'll just call Lafayette," she scowled, and vindication flashed in her eyes at the way Thomas tensed at the words. "I'm sure he'd be down for a good time."

"Stop. Don't talk to me like this," he warned, voice hard, and she raised her eyebrows.

"What's the problem, professor? I thought you liked Lafayette. Aren't you two friends?" she asked, drawing out the syllables of her words. She wore a small, egoistic smile. "Maybe it isn't too late for me to give him a call."

"No. Don’t you dare." He raised his eyebrows at her and nodded toward the interior of her apartment. “Get some sleep.”

"I dunno about that," she drawled, reaching up to brush her hand across his stubble. He grabbed her wrist before she could, eyes ablaze. "I think I might go get some sleep with someone else. Thanks for the ride, though."

"Y/N," he scowled, taking a step forward, backing her through her doorway. Her eyes flashed with vindication. "Stop talking about fucking Lafayette. You know what a bad idea this is."

"Aw, why? Is someone getting a little jealous?" she mocked him, pulling him toward her. He gritted his teeth. "It was obvious earlier; you weren't fooling anyone. Did you think I wasn't gonna notice?"

“Let's not do this. This isn’t a game you wanna play." His stare was conflicted as she grinned, flipping on her living room light and taking a step further back into her apartment. He took a reluctant step forward with her with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. "I'm not jealous."

"Then what's your problem with me calling up Lafayette? You don't own me," she said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“That’s about enough,” he said, his voice low as he fixed her with a warning look. She shrugged.

"I can make my own decisions, Thomas. I can do whatever I want."

"Not right now, you can't.” His grip tightened on her waist, and the look in his eyes was sharp, frustrated. She grinned, pressing up against him.

"Then what are you gonna do about it, hm?" she teased, weaving a hand into his hair. He sucked in a deep breath, self-control waning. Her gaze shone with satisfaction. "How do you plan to stop me?"

A moment passed in anticipatory silence, tension heavy in the charged atmosphere, and Y/N firmly believed she'd won. When he pulled her closer, her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned in toward him; there was a skip, but she only wrapped her arms more tightly around the back of his neck, tilted her face up toward his. She didn't quite get what she wanted.

His lips brushed against the crown of her forehead, and she furrowed her brow, re-opening her eyes. Despite her small frown, he reached up, taking her face in one hand, and brushed a hair out of her face as he eyed her with a gentle gaze. He took a small step back, wearing a remorseful, weak smile. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Get some rest for me, now."

Before she could protest, try to pull him back in, he was out the door, swinging it shut behind him.

She was too stunned to move for another minute.

That night, the apartment felt empty.

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