#reading it. just talk about what the paper or powerpoint is about straight away. i dont need a play by play

[moonlit-jeno]

friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn’t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient. 

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.  

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air. 

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to. 

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back. 

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.” 

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last. 

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent. 

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up. 

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[roger-that-cap]

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk. 

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded. 

Wands, 

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”. 

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her. 

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic. 

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this. 

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told. 

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation. 

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters. 

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number  

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together. 

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting. 

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different. 

 You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything. 

 Sunshine, 

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright. 

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school? 

 I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think? 

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did. 

You loved her. You really did. 

§§§

 It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head. 

  You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.  

 So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her. 

 You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was. 

 You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.  

 You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all? 

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that. 

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl. 

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home? 

Moonlight, 

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade. 

 I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. 

  Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two. 

  I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way. 

 If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset. 

 It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight. 

 Your Sunshine, Wanda. 

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about. 

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any. 

  She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper. 

  Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have. 

  Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it. 

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that. 

  Sunshine, 

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier. 

§§§

 By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink. 

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around. 

  The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient. 

  And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss. 

  The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

 But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage. 

   Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too. 

 The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers. 

  You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known. 

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came. 

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth. 

 Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well. 

  You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it. 

  You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all. 

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda. 

  A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression. 

 Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you. 

  Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

 “O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment. 

 “You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

 “I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her. 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.” 

 The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.” 

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it. 

 But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed. 

 You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?” 

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.” 

 “Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?” 

 You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

  Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know. 

  You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.” 

 She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway. 

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready. 

 You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it. 

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her. 

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?” 

 “I love you.” 

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.” 

  “More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought. 

 You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently. 

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.” 

 You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close. 

  Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too. 

  You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life. 

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.5)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4]  previous chapters

[CH.6] next chapter (now available!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

P.S Niki and Sunoo's roles become bigger in later chapters :) sorry I took 2 weeks to update. School + new enhypen teasers made me alter the story now jesus their lore is confusingly interesting. Didn't proofread half of this chapter LOL. Happy readings <3

"Well now that everyone is here, I'd like to announce we have a new student who just transferred here." Your eyes were immediately drawn to the student's platinum blonde hair. Despite his sharp and charismatic face, his eyes were delicate and innocent. He had an exceptionally small face and a sunkissed skin tone. The new student snapped himself around so that the entire classroom got a good look at him, "Hello, my name is Park Jongseong or Jay, call me whatever you feel." He bowed slightly, his voice having a cool ring that played over in your head.

"Everybody please welcome Jay to our astronomy class. Lend him any of our previous notes because midterms are coming up and I'd appreciate as a teacher if you guys helped him catch up before our long weekend coming up in two weeks." Your teacher gave a warm smile, nodding in such a way that made the rest of the class nod with her.

Without a student saying a word, everyone's eyes followed him as he took a seat at a desk a couple of rows in front of you.

You stared at him tirelessly, barely listening as your teacher rambled off-topic. You noticed Jay often stared out at the crying sky that occasionally flickered with lightning. His eyes focused intently on the woods. You were sure you weren't the only one who was interested in the new boy as you frequently caught other students glancing over at him every few seconds. Jay carried an attractive and dark aura that clearly contrasted from the crowd. Both girls and boys stared at him not because of his pretty face but because he was far different from the new students who had joined your school mid-semester.

The class flew by for you because of Jay until a simple but intriguing question was purposed by the teacher, "Bonus marks today if anyone can guess when the next full moon is." she lifted her eyes off the projector for a few moments, waiting for answers to come sailing.

"Saturday?" Somebody from the front called out, followed by numerous answers that ranged between the second week to the fourth week of the month.

"Come on now. Don't blurt out, give others chances to guess. Jay why don't you guess?" Your teacher questioned welcomingly, expecting no answer from him.

He leaned back in his chair, scraping the non-writing end of his ballpen on his thumb, "November 30." A gentle sound of thunder playing perfectly when he said the answer; like some sort of scene out of a comic.

"Ding ding ding!" Your teacher switched to a PowerPoint slide with the new unit name bolded, "I know this isn't part of the curriculum but I got it approved by the head of the school." She took a breath, giving students time to comprehend what was presented in front of them. "Our next unit will be looking deeper at the moon. More specifically, we'll be looking at both the sciency and non-sciency sides of this topic. And before anyone asks; no, you don't need to believe in astrology or superstitions to understand the non-sciency material. It's just very fascinating because it connects to many cultures." Your attention was now far away from Jay. You were enthusiastic about a topic for once in the class.

"And looks like we're running out of time." Your teacher's wrist clock blocking her eyes. "That's it for today's class everyone! I'll have your projects marked for next class, I promise! Have a good day." She said while shutting off the projector.

You slid all your handouts into your binder, not bothering to align the three-hole punches of the papers to their designated rings.

"Y/N before you go, do you mind helping out Jay? Today or tomorrow?" Your teacher stopped you on your way out.

"Like lend him my notes?"

"Yep! I just forgot to ask but he just left so you might be able to catch up to him. Maybe ask if he's got the notes yet."

You waved your goodbyes and chased the new boy down, his uniquely blonde hair standing out from the hallway of heads. You picked up the pace to catch up with his swift steps when you caught him chatting with Sunghoon and Jaeyun. Your feet froze straight down in their place.

Were they new friends? Or perhaps they were old friends?

You weren't going to bother talking to Jay as you already knew what kind of funny business would come up if you did. You could only watch them swing and lean their arms against each other in a close and friendly way. The picture was becoming more and more clear to you as to what kind of association Jay had with Sunghoon and Jaeyun perhaps even Heeseung, Sunoo or Jungwon.

...

You throw yourself violently over your thick mattress after finishing a long study and homework session at your dorm. The session wasn't productive but the time you spent surrounded by your schoolwork made it feel that way. Your dorm was awfully quiet that afternoon as your dormmates had music rehearsals for their extracurriculars. Nana had told you to come by the music rooms around a quarter past five when their practice was over to go down to the dining hall and have dinner but you couldn't think of a way to kill your remaining hour alone.

Phones were forbidden in your school and you often felt uncontrollably alone and bored with your thoughts during your free time. You could only lay tangled in your bed with your half progressed work in the corner of your eye. You shift on one side to watch your wide-open binder until you got some burst of motivation to finish studying until an idea hits you.

After eyeing your handouts from your astronomy class, you decide to hit the library and do some reading to get a little advanced in the class. Sure you could study for your other class but the sudden idea was far more worth your time in your mind. You quickly twirl out of your room, clearing your desk while you're at it. Excitedly, you hop into your shoes and head straight for the library. You were put in a good mood as you skipped along the long journey to the bookhouse.

The library was moderately packed as you don't bother to recognize any faces there. You get deja vu as you trail the same path you did when Sunghoon and Kyungeun were around. Sliding between the thin space between the bookshelves once again, you search for the section related to the moon, feeling dizzy at the sight of books your school owned. You could've made your life easier by asking the librarian but you were confident you could find it on your own. You move up and down the aisles as you catch a glimpse of theoretical and astrology related books that sit next to a couple of history books.

Backing up, you awkwardly bend your knees forward to get a better look at the small selection of books under the genre. You peel a random book spine out from its tight spot as if it had never been taken out before. You dust off the book a bit, reading the wordless cover and open it to check if it was really related to any sort of astronomy as you find a much stranger subject being discussed.

"Finding everything alright?" The librarian comes by, pushing a kart from the other end of the shelves. "I-I'm looking for books related to the moon." You say, standing up and forgetting you still had the old book in hand.

"The scientific information is just on the other side of this shelf but the section you were just looking at has some interesting stuff that might be related." The librarian stuffed herself in between the shelves to get toward you.

"Yeah, I noticed... This book I just picked up was talking about vampires." You laugh a little as you hold it up.

"Ah, that book..." She paused, snatching the book out of your hands to examine it, "I read this before... It relates to astrology. I think there are some parts of the book that go into detail about the moon, you should give it a read."

"Is this book just theoretical research about vampires though?" You were unconvinced with the idea.

"Yeah, real or not, our school grounds and the neighbouring town are talked about in the book. Apparently many years ago this place used to be a hotspot for vampires."  She looked you dead in the eyes.

"Do you think the information is true?" You questioned with deep curiosity upon her answer.

"Some information in there is haunting. I think vampires did exist." She said with some sort of distress beginning to seep into her face.

Shivers ran down your spine, if she was just trying to sell you the book, it was working damn well on you.

"I'll leave you be, no need to sign out the book, nobody ever takes it out so I trust you'll return it." And with that said, she left you cold with mystery as the book between your fingers stared at you with big round eyes.

You shake back to reality, checking your wrist just to find out your time has vanished. You shift your priorities to getting to the music department, throwing the book into your bag without much thought.

...

The sun was already going down around the afternoon as the days got shorter with autumn blossoming. You're standing between rooms full of beautiful voices and instruments, peering through every window attached to a door in an attempt to find your roommates. The issue was the widows didn't give much of a view as to who was in the rooms. But your ears were drawn to a gentle piano that played a bittersweet melody beneath the louder sounds of people singing in a harmonious glee. As you move in the forward direction of the hallway, the piano gets clearer to your ears. It became clear that the sound was coming out of a room with its door wide open. Your back attached it to the wall in fear of being seen as slide yourself until you meet the spine of the door where you could see into the shadowy room.

Your eyes lit up when they see a familiar platinum blondie behind the keys. The melody was enchanting and was played in such a personal way as the sounds escaped into the noisy environment where it hoped to go unheard. Jay had reached the final notes of his song as he turned his head in your direction. It was as if he knew of your present from the moment you started watching him from the doorway.

[laurenairay]

Take a Chance - D. Hamilton

Word Count: 12.7k

Summary: Ashley Miller is a Sunday-morning regular at her local coffee shop. Dougie Hamilton is the associate art curator who catches her eye.

Warnings: coffee shop au, some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, anxiety

A/N: This is my @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange fic for @huttons​! I had a lot of fun researching & creating this fic gift, and I tried to incorporate all of the preferences you stated and that we discussed. This is very self-indulgent too, definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, and I’m not going to go into the very niche research rabbit holes I fell down! Bringing this OC to life made me so happy, and I had a blast incorporating the coffee shop au element. I hope you enjoy this! 💚

Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​, @texanstarslove​ and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ because they all listened to me stress while writing hah.

*

“Large latte for Ashley!”

Ashley Miller looked up from her laptop, smiling at her favourite barista at the counter. She got up from her table, leaving her laptop and scone briefly as she collected her drink, before heading back to her seat. Sunday mornings were the same every week – arrive at Storm Surge coffee shop when they opened at 7am, park herself at a table in the back corner, and consume a steady flow of coffee as she worked. Sure, her work might vary – teaching Medieval History at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill meant her lesson topics were all over the spectrum – but she just found that everything from writing notes for her classes that week to marking essays at the end of the semester became easier if she had the thrum of the coffee shop around her.

That, and she knew she’d just spend her entire weekend burrowed in her house if she didn’t get out.

Having moved to Raleigh 6 years ago to undertake her PhD, Ashley had accepted a teaching job at the very same university she’d studied at when she’d completed her studies a year ago, and she hadn’t looked back since. There was just something about Raleigh that she had fallen in love with, only a 30 minute drive away from her workplace, something that had spoken to her very soul, and actually being able to pass on knowledge about the subject that she was so passionate about made her so incredibly happy. Sure, her parents had never understood her love for 11th to 13th century European history (nor anyone else from her small town in South Dakota) but Ashley had never cared about that – New York had given her the opportunity to grow as a person during her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees, but Raleigh had given her the opportunity to thrive.

And she would forever be grateful for that.

Sundays though…Sundays were something she cherished. This independent coffee shop had been a blessing when she’d found it early on in her PhD research, and they had never complained about her taking up a table for essentially the whole day (and she did pay for each of the many coffees she consumed). Baristas and bakers had come and gone over the past 6 years, but there were a couple that had stuck around recently - and a year ago when she officially became ‘Dr Ashley Miller’, her favourite barista Andrei had even given her a piece of chocolate cake on the house to celebrate. Storm Surge coffee shop was a home away from home.

Of course, there was another reason that Sunday coffee shop time was one of her favourite things in her week…

Tall Cute Guy.

He was a regular every Sunday morning, and had been for the past year - three Sundays a month he would order a mocha and an americano to go, but one Sunday a month he would come in an hour earlier and order just an americano, and drink it in the shop instead while reading an old paperback book. Every single time, like clockwork.

Okay, yes, that sounded a little stalkerish. But he was so cute. Ashley pretty much always had her earphones in playing music so she had never caught his name, but his blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and warm smile had caught her eye straight away. And he was so tall, she couldn’t have missed him if she’d tried. She’d never spoken to him, never even said hi in passing, but occasionally she would link eyes with him and he would smile at her. And that smile was enough to send her heart fluttering. Ridiculous really, but it brought her a little joy.

What was the harm in smiling back at a cute guy every now and again, right?

*

Dougie Hamilton walked into the North Carolina Museum of Art with a smile on his face. To be honest, it could’ve been for a multitude of reasons. His career was finally heading upwards, having moved museums to become Associate Curator of European Art a couple of years ago, and he loved his work. He had recently renovated his kitchen, which was now looking pretty sleek and awesome, if he did say so himself. His colleagues had genuinely become some of his closest friends, and he had a standing monthly poker night with several of them. But his smile today wasn’t because of any of that.

No, his smile today was because it was Sunday morning, and he’d just picked up his regular coffee order for him and his boss.

Speaking of…

“So, did you finally talk to your coffee shop crush, or did you just awkwardly stare at her like a weirdo again?”

“Oh fuck off,” Dougie grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush as his boss Jordie’s words.

It was far too early for this – he’d only just walked into their shared office for fuck’s sake! Jordie just hooted laughter at his embarrassment as he took his mocha from Dougie, making Dougie groan. “One day you’re going to have to talk to her, man. It’s just getting sad now,” Jordie teased.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t we have a museum to open?” Dougie scowled.

Jordie just beamed even more, wiggling his eyebrows as he left their office. Dougie groaned again, running his hands through is unruly hair before he sighed. Coffee shop crush. Hah. Jordie wasn’t wrong though. Not really. His crush…Mystery Laptop Woman…was one of the reasons he always volunteered to pick the two of them up coffee before the museum opened up on a Sunday morning. Jordie had come along with him only once to pick up their coffee, about 6 months ago, and ever since then he hadn’t let Dougie’s shy smile at her go. Of course, Dougie barely knew anything about her – only that she was always in early on a Sunday, always completely consumed by her work, and she had such a super cute concentration face, whatever it is that she worked on. He could never quite tell – sometimes she had a book or two with her, sometimes it was a stack of papers – but he knew for sure that she appeared to mainline coffee like a pro. Probably some kind of teacher?

He’d certainly never had a teacher that beautiful, that was for sure.

Her long dark hair was always down and always a little messy, like she ran her hands through it often (which she did, he’d noticed). Her warm hazel eyes were hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses, and her lips were always coloured in varying shades of dark pink and red. He’d only seen her standing a couple of times, but he’d caught enough of a glimpse of her long legs to have some very inappropriate thoughts. She just looked so kind, so friendly…and so beautiful. Dougie had never been able to catch her name though – she’d always had a full coffee or at least half a coffee left whenever he was in the shop, so he couldn’t even find out sneakily that way. But whoever she was, whatever she did, when he occasionally got lucky enough for her to look at him, her smile made his entire body light up like a fireworks show. It was a bit pathetic really, how much just a smile from her made his entire day, but he was a year into it now and he wasn’t going to stop that for anything. He had a great career, some great friends, and a pretty great life, even if he was tragically single.

What was the harm in smiling at a beautiful woman whenever he got the chance, right?

*

“Alright, we’ve nearly run out of time now, but just one final thing I want you to think about for Monday’s love in the middle ages class,”

On cue, her students groaned, making Ashley grin.

“Hey, I’m giving you a head’s up here – I could just let you walk into our general lecture blind?” she shrugged, teasing.

That got her a few laughs at least. She’d take that.

“Okay, so we know through our focus on the Medieval Expansion of Europe that one of the biggest tales about Eleanor of Aquitaine in the latter half of the 1100s was of her role in the courts of love. What I want you all to look into is whether these courts of love have the possibility of being a real thing, or whether they feed into the chivalric notions of her contemporaries and were fabricated from the courtly love dynamics of knights and maidens. Just to give us some talking points, okay?”

Her students murmured their agreement, with most of them writing down a reminder. That would have to be good enough for her. At least this way, hopefully someone would discuss the talking points with her in class – she’d found out the hard way last year that there was nothing worse for a university professor than completely uninterested students. She needed something to feed off.

“Alright then, class dismissed. Have a great weekend everyone!”

Ashley moved to her laptop, switching off the projected powerpoint presentation as her students filed out of the classroom, but jumped in shock slightly as she noticed the head of her department sitting in the back corner. How long had he been there?! What was he doing there in the first place? She just hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt, as he walked up to the front of the room.

Rod Brind’Amour was a legend in the History department for a good reason. His knowledge of military history pre-1800s was unmatched by anyone, but it was his research on the first and second crusades that had inspired Ashley through much of her PhD. Sure, he wasn’t her direct supervisor, but their work interlinked enough that she’d spent many office hours with him debating the second crusade with fervour. For such a big man, he was such a nerd, and he’d made her feel so welcome as soon as he offered her the teaching position at the end of her PhD, with the promise that she would be able to continue her research to inspire future minds. She had been so moved by his words that she hadn’t hesitated to accept the job. How could she not, when someone of his calibre believed in her?

One year in, she wasn’t regretting it at all

“Very smart, setting up some talking points for Monday’s class. I’m so glad I volunteered you to run this year’s Love in the Middle Ages lectures. You’re much better at them than I was,” Rod mused.

Ashley snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. Oh thank god. It’s true that this seminar was one part of the large mandatory Medieval and Early Modern Studies course…but it suited her perfectly.

“That’s because my research focuses on Medieval Queens and the exchange of power they brought to their marriage countries, whereas yours is the effect of each of the crusades through military history. Bleurgh,” she snickered, “Linking today’s Medieval Expansion of Europe class with the generic Love in the Middle Ages lectures on Mondays is just easy,”

“Speak for yourself,” Rod laughed, “give me military tactics any day,”

Ashley just grinned. Some things never changed. “Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, packing up her laptop into its case.

“Just wanted to check in with you, in general,” Rod shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her desk.

Ashley couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “I’m doing okay yeah, thanks. Last year’s first semester was more of a struggle for sure, but I don’t have that transition from PhD student and TA to full teaching this time round. I’ve definitely settled in quicker – and this batch of freshman feel a lot more engaged already,”

“That’s good! It definitely shows that you’re handling things well,” Rod nodded, smiling back at her, “But I meant in your life outside of the university too,”

Ashley frowned. What? “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

Rod laughed softly at her expression. “I know last year you were trying to find your stride, but this year you’ve already got it, so I’m just checking that you’ve got things balanced outside of work too. It’s far too easy to make teaching your entire life – and I don’t want you to burn out,” Rod explained. “I value you here too much for that,”

Ashley’s heart melted a little at his concern, but she just shook his head. “I may not have much going on for me outside of work, but I do get out. I spend my Sundays in a local coffee shop,” she admitted.

Her mind briefly flashed to Tall Cute Guy, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind before she started blushing. So not appropriate for work.

Rod frowned slightly, but nodded. “At least you’re getting out of the house. Just promise me you’ll work on finding time for yourself too?”

“I promise,” Ashley nodded, “I intend to be here for a long time, so I definitely don’t want to burn out,”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Rod grinned, “I’d better get going – see you at the faculty meeting later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ashley grimaced.

Rod just laughed at her disgruntled face, lifting his hand in a wave as he left the room. As she packed the rest of her belongings, Ashley couldn’t help but to think over Rod’s words. Was she in danger of a burn-out? Surely not, so early on in her career? Maybe she did need more of a balance in her life…but how?

*

Another Sunday, another early morning. Sure, Ashley could give herself a lie in every now and again, but that would mean not being able to relax on her Sunday evening, to not have the chance to unwind and reset before the working week starts up again on Monday morning. Spending all weekend in her little 2 bed house wouldn’t do her any good, even as comforting as she’d made it.

Besides, Storm Surge coffee shop was such a part of her routine now, that it would feel wrong to not go in at her usual time. Seeing Andrei the morning barista, Marty the supervisor and Jaccob the baker (who occasionally popped his head out) always made her happy – and as Rod said only a couple of days ago, she needed to make sure she actually kept a balance in her life.

So, as always, just after 7am, Ashley walked through the coffee shop door. She’d skipped eating any breakfast this morning, intent on getting one of the shop’s amazing scones fresh out of the oven, and as soon as she spotted her favourite blueberry-lemon scones in the display, something in her chest settled. Yes, this was exactly why she came every week. This feeling of home.

“Good morning Ashley! Your usual latte?”

Ashley smiled at Andrei, nodding. “Yes please. And one of the blueberry-lemon scones!”

Andrei smiled even wider, if that was possible, and immediate set about inputting her order into the cash register. It was then that she noticed something new on Andrei’s nametag. A pink sparkly kitten sticky. Huh. That was new.

“Nice sticker,” she teased.

“Very sparkly, no? Marty gave it to me,” Andre nodded.

“Oh, Marty did huh?” Ashley grinned.

Interestingly, Andrei blushed. She knew she hadn’t been imagining things. The poor Russian guy just blushed harder, spluttering incoherently, until Ashley took pity on him. It wasn’t like she could be mean to Andrei – he was just too adorable.

“I think the sticker is really cute, Andrei. It was sweet of Marty to give it to you,” Ashley said with a fond smile.

“Thank you! I will tell Marty you like it,” Andrei beamed.

Bless him.

Andrei handed her a scone on a plate, allowing her to go to her usual table in the back corner, setting up her laptop while she waited for her coffee to be ready. She heard a door out the back open, and Andrei quickly slipped away, making her smile.

“AHHHHHHHHHH MR SVECHNIKOV!”

Marty. Ashley just giggled, shaking her head before putting her earphones in for her background music. Yeah, this coffee shop definitely felt like home.

She quickly got lost in writing her lecture notes, going off on tangents that she knew she’d have to rein in later when she edited. It was a full hour before she even looked away from her screen, only to see the shop busy and bustling, every single table full. What the hell? She looked over to see both Andrei and Marty working the counter, only confirming her suspicions that they really had gotten busy while she was lost in her thoughts. Wow. Full at 8am was a new one for sure. Maybe a convention of some kind?

And it was then that she saw Tall Cute Guy walk in. Today he was wearing a pretty blue sweater, bring out the beautiful blue in his eyes, making her smile on instinct. So cute. But then she noticed him being given just the one coffee…he was planning on drinking in, and there were no tables? No!

It made her heart clench to watch him looking around the coffee shop, becoming more and more disheartened…until he noticed her. Maybe, could she, yes. Ashley bit her bottom lip but tilted her head towards the empty chair at her table, earning the biggest smile. She actually did it. She actually offered him the chair at her table. Shit. Her heart started beating faster as he walked over, and she took her earphones out as he came to a stop next to her seat, looming over her.

“I, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked softly.

Huh. Such a gentle voice on such a big man. Yeah she could totally handle this.

“Please, go ahead,” Ashley nodding, smiling as she waved her hand to indicate, “it’s so busy in here today,”

Oh no. Was that too forward, acknowledging that they’re both regulars?

“Definitely busier than usual, eh?” he mused, “I’ll try not to disturb your work, I’ll only be here for about an hour,”

Ashley laughed, but shook her head. She was just glad he hadn’t been weirded-out by her acknowledgement. That would’ve been so awkward. Her stomach was filled with enough butterflies as it was. “You won’t disturb me, I promise. Sit as long as you like,”

He smiled widely at her, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting down, Ashley just quickly shuffling her papers out of the way for him. He nodded his thanks at her, pulling a paperback book out of his satchel. Then he cleared his throat, so she looked up at him curiously.

“I’m Dougie, by the way,” he said, almost a little shy.

Dougie. That was a nice name. Oh, wow, she finally knew his name! Ashley couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m Ashley,”

He smiled back at her. “It’s nice to meet you properly,” he said happily.

Ashley just laughed, nodding as she blushed lightly. To have him acknowledge their smiling-from-a-distance definitely sparked something inside of her. Nice to finally meet him indeed.

They sat in comfortable silence, Ashley typing up her tangent notes so far for the morning, and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that sat in her chest. The cute guy she’d been smiling at for a year was sitting at her table with her…and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. And he’d introduced himself!

No, cool it, keep calm Ashley. No-one got anywhere by acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Play it cool.

That promised hour flew by far too quickly. Every now and again she would glance up and find his eyes on her. Every now and again she would glance up only for him to look up and catching her looking. Every time she would blush. Every time he would send her a wonderful smile. But all too soon her table companion was standing up and putting his book in his bag.

“Um…”

Ashley looked up from her work at him, a smile naturally spreading across her face at his nervous expression. Why was he nervous?

“Yes, Dougie?” she said softly, smiling at a little more at finally getting to say his name.

Dougie. Dougie. Dougie.

“I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost hopefully.

“I’ll be here,” she nodded.

Oh god. Well that was stupid. Of course she’d be here. Why couldn’t she just act smoothly for once in her life?

But then Dougie smiled, such a happy little smile that it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Until next time then,” Dougie murmured, “Bye, Ashley,”

“Bye,” she breathed, watching him walk way.

Well, that could’ve been worse. What a Sunday.

*

Things felt different after that fateful Sunday. Dougie (she knew his name!) hadn’t sat down with her again, or even sat in the shop again yet, but now…now he always made a point of waving at her, waiting until she had waved back to smile. Those waves sent her into even more of a tizzy, a light blush always on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but cherish them. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but he was so handsome and he noticed her. It didn’t hurt to pretend it was more than friendly acknowledgement, right? A girl could dream at least.

It was only Wednesday today, but that meant only one thing. Her weekly phone call with her mom. Knowing Susan Miller, Ashley could picture exactly what her mom was doing. Her phone would be propped up on speakerphone while she pottered around the kitchen, finishing off making dinner while also planning what desserts to bake at the weekend. Her mom led a simple life, a retired teacher herself (although she’d taught at the local elementary school rather than ever leaving town), but it was a happy life. And it was these phone calls that were the only thing that made Ashley miss home.

Nothing was the same as a hug from her mom with a slice of homemade apple pie. But those were the sacrifices she made for her love of Medieval History. They never stayed on the for more than half an hour, but it was just enough to fill Ashley’s heart, at least for a little while.

“And I swear, if he doesn’t stop leaving those nasty cigar butts on the front porch, I’m going to whoop some sense into him!”

“You’ve been saying this for over 20 years mom – I don’t think dad is going to change at this point,” Ashley mused, rolling her eyes fondly.

Her dad had been set in his ways for as long as she could remember. Nothing was going to change that, not even a little nagging from the love of his life.

“Yes, well, he could at least clean up after himself,”

Her parents really were ridiculous human beings – but they loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Even if her dad didn’t clean up his cigar butts.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t complaining about his cigar butts,” Ashley grinned. “Maybe threaten not to make that corned beef hash he likes. That might help,”

The laughter that flowed down the phone made her smile even more. Fuck she missed hearing her mom’s laugh in person.

“Oh I miss you sweetpea. Are you sure you’re okay down there by yourself?”

“Yes mom, you know I love my work and my life down here,” Ashley said, sighing softly.

Here we go again.

“I just worry about you rattling around in that old house by yourself!”

Rude. It wasn’t that old.

“I promise I’m fine!” Ashley insisted.

Her mom stayed silent, making Ashley bite her lip to stop herself getting frustrated. Her mom would come out with it eventually…

“I worry about you being lonely, that’s all. You’re such an introvert, you always have been,”

And there it was.

“How could I be lonely mom? I have great colleagues that I talk with. And I’m around students all day and I interact all the time with them! And the baristas at my coffee shop know me by name and we chat too,” Ashley listed.

“The baristas don’t count, Ash,”

Poor Andrei. He definitely counted. Ashley couldn’t help but giggle at the sigh in her mom’s voice though. “Okay maybe not, but there is a guy that I’ve talked to,”

“Ooh a guy?”

Oh no. Oh what had she done? She had to nip this in the bud now.

“No, mom, not like that, just a friendly face to wave at,” Ashley insisted.

Dougie’s shy smiles filled her mind, but she shook her head. Now was not the time.

“Oh boo, you should work on changing that,”

Hah. If only.

“You’re impossible, mom,” Ashley sighed fondly.

“I love you too darling,”

*

Today he was going to do it. Today Dougie was going to get to Storm Surge coffee shop a little early, get his americano to drink in…and hopefully sit with Ashley again. Ever since that amazing Sunday morning where she offered him a seat at her table (she offered him!), he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He could kick himself for not being able to do more than wave at her the past three Sundays, but even just the few smiles he seen in passing since have blown him away. Especially with that cute little blush she always had when she waved back at him.

But today he was coming in an hour before he had to get to work, just to have that chance to sit with her and talk with her. Was it a little desperate? Sure. But Dougie never claimed to be anything other than desperate to get to know the beautiful woman he’d only ever seen in passing until now. His schedule didn’t usually allow him the chance – every Sunday the North Carolina Museum of Art opened from 10-5, and he usually got there just after 9 with coffee for him and Jordie, but every fourth Sunday Jordie came in a little later, so Dougie took the time to sit in and read a little before heading into work…and it was the fourth Sunday today. He could only hope that all the nerves and butterflies would be worth it.

Oh fuck, what if she wasn’t even there?

No, she would be. She always was. Enough stalling.

Still…

Dougie walked into Storm Surge with a little ball of nervous anxiety in his chest, praying that Ashley wouldn’t stray from her routine, until he looked over into the back corner…and there she was. He waited until Ashley looked up at him to wave at her, earning a sweet smile and a wave back. Wow, her blush really was so sweet.

“Dougie! You must be drinking in today, yes?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Andrei’s voice, quickly nodding. “Yeah just the usual americano, thanks,”

“You got it,” Andrei nodded, beaming at him.

Dougie quickly paid and moved to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. The shop was only half-full at this time in the morning, unlike last month, so he didn’t have the excuse of busy tables. Maybe…he could just walk up to her, right? He could take that chance, right? Yeah, he could do this.

“Here you go!” Andrei said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” Dougie murmured.

The barista gave him a strange look at his distracted tone, and Dougie knew that Andrei was watching as he walked over to Ashley’s table…but here goes nothing. He could totally do this. He was an adult. He paid his taxes on time and everything. He could definitely ask a pretty woman if he could sit with her again.

“Hey, Ashley,”

She looked up from her laptop with a bright smile, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Dougie! Hi!” she said happily.

She remembered his name! Wow. No, focus.

“Do you, um…do you mind if I sit with you again?” Dougie asked.

Oh god, why couldn’t he just sound cool for once in his life? Why did he always have to be the least smooth version of himself that he could possibly be?

Ashley took one look around at all the empty tables and blushed even more, before she bit her lip and nodded. “Sure, go for it,”

That was a good sign, right?

Dougie sat down with a nervous smile, putting his coffee gently on the table.

“So, um, how have you been?”

Ashley looked surprised (oh god, was she only being polite before?) before that melted into a pleased look. Okay, he could work with that.

“I’ve been pretty good thanks, yeah. I’m just revising the list of essay topics that I’m giving my students on Monday, so not too much work to do today thankfully,” she said, “How about you?”

“I’ve been alright yeah. Work has been a little nuts with the new exhibition at the museum but it’s all come together really well!” Dougie said, beaming. What? Could a man not be excited about artwork? “what do you teach?”

Ashley smiled shyly, looking a little hesitant again. Dougie couldn’t help but frown a little. Had people made her feel awkward about her work before? That wasn’t okay! “I’m a Medieval History professor at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My general focus is on the power of Medieval queens, but I teach everything from the expansion of medieval Europe to love in the middle ages, as well as on the general medieval and early modern history modules. I did my undergraduate and masters degrees at NYU, but I moved down here for the PhD opportunity. It’s now my second full year teaching and I just…I love it so much,”

A PhD?! Holy shit, that’s impressive. Wow. Just…wow. How could she be any more perfect?

“That’s incredible!” was all that Dougie could say.

“You don’t have to pretend, I know having a PhD isn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, especially in medieval history,” Ashley mused.

Well it was definitely pretty fucking cool to him, no matter what other people had ever said to her. “I’m definitely not pretending, I promise. Medieval history is fascinating,” he insisted.

Ashley pursed her lips like she didn’t believe him, making Dougie laugh.

“I’m serious! I may not have a PhD but my masters thesis was a specialism in Rembrandt’s work. I’m a total art history nerd – 14th-17th century in particular,” Dougie explained.

Come on, let the nerdiness pay off for once…

Her face immediately lightened, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘o’, making him laugh again. At least, he hoped it was a good surprise?

“One of the classes I’ll be teaching next semester is Italian Renaissance and European History to 1650,” she murmured.

Holy shit. What a match up.

“Told you I wasn’t pretending to be interested,” Dougie grinned, “I’d definitely love to learn more about that class when you start it,”

Ashley blushed again, but her nervous smile had shifted into a full beaming smile, and his heart could only just about take it. Then she froze slightly, blinking, as if she’d forgotten something. What?

“Sorry, did you say museum earlier?” Ashley said suddenly, “like, you work at a museum?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” Dougie nodded.

He did his best not to puff out his chest in pride. He’d worked damned hard on his career and he was proud of it.

“I just…wow, I wouldn’t have expected it,”

Dougie laughed, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish smile.

“A guy who looks like you, like such an athlete’s build…oh god, sorry, that’s so rude of me,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

But Dougie just laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, it’s far from the first time I’ve heard that,”

And never with such appreciation of his body either…

Look, he knew how the world perceived him on first glance. Tall, muscled guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, probably an all-american jock right? How he loved proving them wrong.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ashley winced, “so I’m sorry,”

“Apology accepted,” Dougie mused, “I love my work, so it’s fun surprising people. Especially people with similar interests,”

Ashley bit her lip again but nodded and smiled, tilting her head to show she was listening. Wow, he could definitely get used to her looking at him with this much interest.

“Like I said, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art. I’m actually Canadian, but I finished my masters degree in Boston and went straight into working at the MFA, but after working on a brief project in Calgary, I realised I wanted to work more in my specialist interests, y’know? So I applied for a role at the Museum of Art here, and became the associate curator of European Art. It’s…it’s everything I could’ve wished for, when I was studying,”

Dougie took a sip of his coffee while Ashley processed that flood of information, hoping he hadn’t come across too strong. People really did tend to zone out when he talked about his work…but hopefully because she also had an interest in European history and art, she wouldn’t be put off?

“I can definitely relate to following and achieving my passions for a niche subject,” Ashley grinned, “and I love that you love it so much. It’s rare, to find someone who gets such genuine joy out of their work. Even though work can sometimes be super stressful,”

“Stressful, but worth it. Especially when a new exhibition comes together so well,” Dougie agreed.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dougie licked his bottom lip, trying not to look too nervous. This exhibition is such a big deal, and it had been such a lot of work. He could get a little excited about it now, right?

“Yeah, I’ve been working solidly for the past few months on the new exhibition – it’s opening next weekend. It’s a collection of Italian Renaissance Art,” Dougie said, a little hesitant.

Hesitant…because maybe that was a bit flashy? Did it sound like he was bragging? He really hoped not – not just because he was so proud of his work but he genuinely did want to excite Ashley…

“Oh no way! Really?” Ashley gasped.

Dougie bit his lips to control his grin. Oh thank fuck. Finally, someone he could actually impress with his love of art history. “Yeah, last quarter the museum acquired over 30 paintings from the 14th century from various collectors and this will be the first time they’ve all been together in the same room,”

“I bet they’ll be so beautiful all together after so long,” Ashley said, her voice a little wistful.

Wistful? He could fix that. Maybe. Yes, this was the perfect opportunity…

“Maybe we could…I know this might feel a little soon, but I’m…

Dougie trailed off with a frustrated groan, making Ashley giggle. For once, just once, let him be smooth! He took a deep breath, before trying again.

“Would you like to come to the exhibition opening with me?” he asked softly.

Ashley’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly nodded, making Dougie’s heartbeat kick up a notch. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a plus one as the associate curator, and there’s no-one else I could imagine going with. I think you’d love it,” Dougie explained, “and I’d love to show you the artwork,”

Was that too desperate?

“I’d…wow, I’d love to go with you,” Ashley said, her expression shy but pleased.

Shy but pleased. He could work with that.

“Great, it’s a date!”

Oh God. Dougie could only freeze…but then Ashley smiled. Huh, maybe not so cringey?

“A date huh? I’d love that too,” Ashley said shyly.

Oh thank fuck. Ashley just giggled at Dougie’s blush.

“Give me your number and I’ll text you the details?” Dougie suggested, trying to salvage at least a little bit of his dignity.

As Ashley took his phone from him and entered her phone number, Dougie could only sit in shocked silence. He’d done it. He’d actually asked her on a date. On a date where he could impress her with a topic they both loved so much. All he had to do now was not fuck it up.

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

*

Ashley had been in a little bit of a daze when Dougie had left for work. He’d asked her on a date. On a date! And they’d exchanged numbers, Dougie having sent her a little smiley face so she had his number in return. She was just thankful that there wasn’t much work for her to do that day – there was no way she wouldn’t been able to focus otherwise.

And then throughout the week, they’d started exchanging cute little messages. Just sweet little things, like how was your day? and look how cute this dog is and I had the loudest school tour group come through the museum today and which of these texts is going to give me the worst teacher rating? – it was all silly and sweet and fun, and Ashley couldn’t remember the last time that the potential of a relationship had excited her so much.

There was just something about Dougie that made her heart beat a little faster every time she thought of him. It was bad enough when he would smile at her in passing in Storm Surge…but now, with every little text, she felt herself smiling even more than she could’ve imagined, like a giddy little schoolgirl with a first crush.

Because at the moment, it really was just a crush. They hadn’t gone out on their first date yet – in reality, they’d only sat together twice, with one of those times essentially being the exchange of their names. They’d only had one conversation in person. And the texts were so sweet and lovely…but they were just texts. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself and get her hopes up, you know? God knows that had happened enough times.

She couldn’t help but hope that finally, she had met someone with real potential. Dougie made it easy to hope.

Ashley supposed that their first date would be the real test of whether she’d just built up all the excitement of Tall Cute Guy in that coffee shop fantasy in her head, or whether he was the real deal. Their conversation in person on Sunday had been such a good start, but fuck please make him the real deal.

Was it really that much to ask?

Finally Friday rolled around and she was finished with work for the week. Well, mostly. Ashley had just come out of a bi-monthly faculty meeting and just had to check some emails before she could go home for the weekend (and to shave her legs because she found the cutest dress for her date on Saturday) – but as she got to her office, she noticed that Rod had stopped in the doorway, waving to some of their colleagues as they strolled past. Hmm.

“So…you’re looking incredibly chipper for someone who just got out of a tedious faculty meeting,” Rod teased, leaning against her doorframe.

Ashley just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat at her desk. “I don’t know why you complain so much – you’re the one who runs them,”

“Not through choice, I promise that,” Rod mused, shaking his head, “But you are looking extra cheerful today. Just feeling a little nosy, I guess,”

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Should she tell him about her date? It’s not like Rod was a gossip…and it’s not like she had a whole host of friends to tell…

“I may or may not have a date tomorrow night,” Ashley eventually admitted.

His eyes immediately lit up. Oh God.

“Ooh a date, exciting!” Rod gasped dramatically, fanning himself like a southern belle.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Ashley giggled. That could’ve gone worse – but his excitement definitely lit up the butterflies in her stomach all over again.

Rod just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just glad you’re giving someone a chance to sweep you off your feet,” he teased, “Who is he and where is he taking you?”

“He’s a guy I met in that coffee shop I go to on a Sunday, and he’s taking me to the new Italian Renaissance exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” she explained.

And she couldn’t wait.

“A cultured guy or a try hard?” he smirked.

“A cultured guy,” Ashley giggled, rolling her eyes, “he’s actually the associate curator who worked on setting up the exhibition,”

“Don’t we all love a man who knows his history, even if it is art,” Rod grinned, winking dramatically, earning another giggle, “Let me know how the exhibition is - I know my wife would love to go if it’s any good,”

“I’ll give you a full review on Monday,” Ashley agreed, nodding.

“And a full review of your date,” Rod grinned.

“Okay, out, out. I need to finish these emails before I leave,” Ashley laughed.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Rod mused, “If you need anything, even an escape clause tomorrow night, send me a text, okay?”

Her heart softened a little at his kind gesture, and she found herself nodding. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you, I appreciate it,”

“Any time,” Rod nodded.

Ashley bit her bottom lip to hide her grin as he shut the door behind him on the way out, and the butterflies in her stomach were still there. Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*

Tonight was the night. Ashley only had a few minutes left before her uber arrived to pick her up to take her to the museum, and she couldn’t resist having a final glance in the mirror by her front door. She’d had a little panic over what the hell the dress code would be for a gallery opening, but after Dougie confirmed it wasn’t black tie, just formal dress, Ashley had consulted with some of her college friends (who were buzzing about the fact that she was actually going on a date), and decided that a midi cocktail dress was the way to go.

And she’d found the perfect one.

The dress she’d picked out in a local boutique was a beautiful forest green colour, complimenting her dark hair and hazel eyes perfectly. It fell to the middle of her shins, as her friends had recommended, and had thick shoulders straps, no sleeves but a neckline with a deep enough v that it should a little cleavage (classy cleavage of course, very sophisticated in her opinion). Her favourite part though was the Marilyn Monroe-esque twirl to the skirt – something she’d tested out several times already – and she just felt glamorous in it. She’d straightened her usually-messy hair and put on a little make-up too, to match the effort she was making with the dress. To be honest, Ashley felt beautiful, and she honestly couldn’t wait to see Dougie’s reaction. It was a hell of a lot different to her usual Sunday Storm Surge outfits, that’s for sure.

Soon enough, her uber was pulling up outside of the Museum of Art, and she thanked the driver as she got out. Thankfully, Dougie was already waiting at the top of the steps for her, and the smile that he sent her way made her breath catch in her throat. Ashley took the time to check him out as she walked up towards him, and she felt those butterflies start up again. He was wearing a gorgeous navy blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, bringing out the colour of his eyes beautifully, and the stunned expression on his face as he looked at her made her blush a little. That was a good reaction, right?

“Wow. You look…amazing,” Dougie murmured, looking her up and down with awe.

Definitely a good reaction.

“You look really good too,” she grinned.

Dougie grinned back at her, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

Ashley fought not to squeal as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. What a smooth move. “Lead the way,”

Dougie walked her inside, picking up a glass of champagne each after they dropped their jackets off. Then they were off. The two of them wandered around through the exhibition, Dougie guiding her and giving her the most indepth information she could’ve possibly hoped for. She’d never had such a personal tour like this, and he was so shy yet so knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but to drink up every word. This was what she had hoped for out of tonight, that passion coming through Dougie, and she was receiving it tenfold.

“This one is one of my favourites. Batoni’s The Triumph of Venice. There’s just so much going on, and I swear I notice something different every time I look at it,”

Ashley looked at the painting, taking in the many figures, the details, the colours, and couldn’t help but smile. It truly was a masterpiece.

“Oil on canvas? Maybe…early 1700s?” she guessed.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Dougie breathed.

He immediately flushed bright red, making Ashley giggle. Good to know that her vague art history knowledge was paying off. And that she could make him react like that…

“I love all the finessed detail in this one. Especially on the carriage – it’s exquisite,” Ashley murmured, looking back at it.

“Isn’t it?” Dougie grinned.

Ashley squeezed his arm gently, smiling up at him, earning a happy smile back. He was so clearly in his element, and she was loving every second. The way his entire face lit up when he talked about art…there was something just so beautiful in that. Those beautiful blue eyes were even more alive than ever, that spark of passion adding such a gorgeous element, and she really wanted to see more of it. That was a good sign, right? That she was already imagining more.

They moved on to the next painting, and Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow.

“And this…this is the star of the collection. Giotto’s Peruzzi Altarpiece, the only complete altarpiece by the artist outside of Italy,”

Her jaw dropped a little. That was a big deal. “The only one?”

“The only one,” Dougie nodded.

“Holy shit,” Ashley mumbled, eyes wide.

Dougie grinned at her. “My sentiments exactly,”

“All of that gold. So much gold. And the details in their faces. Holy shit,” Ashley murmured.

“One of my favourite frescos, and I get to see it every day,” Dougie sighed happily.

“Well count me as jealous,” Ashley teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

Dougie just smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was just so cute.

“Would you, um…would you like a new drink?”

“Sure, another couldn’t hurt,” she nodded.

It’s not like she drank champagne that often after all. And it was a special occasion…

They stayed in the museum for another hour, looking over some of the art again as well as mingling with Dougie’s colleagues (including a mostly silent guy Dougie introduced as ‘Foegs’, who gave Dougie a double thumbs up when he thought she wasn’t looking, and a very enthusiastic big blonde man named Jordie, who she learned was Dougie’s boss – which, wow). Their conversation just flowed, and the doubts that she’d had earlier were easily shoved to the back of her mind.

She’d never thought it would feel so natural spending the evening arm-in-arm with a guy, but Dougie had just blown her away.

All too soon, it was time to leave the museum though, and while Dougie got their jackets, Ashley opened her phone to request an uber. 5 minutes away. Perfect.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Dougie murmured, when they were waiting outside.

His own uber was only a couple of minutes behind hers.

“Me too,” Ashley admitted, smiling up at him, “Thank you for inviting me,”

“There’s no-one else I would’ve wanted to take. I just glad you enjoyed it,” Dougie smiled back.

“I enjoyed spending time with you. The exhibition was just a bonus,” she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Holy shit she just flirted. Blatantly flirted. Too much?

But then Dougie blushed a little, before a small smirk spread across his lips. “Yeah?”

Ashley just bit her lip, nodding. Dougie’s blue eyes flashed a little darker, sending a hot jolt running through her body. Oh wow. Just like that huh. But then her phone buzzed, the uber car pulling up to the curb, breaking her out of her thoughts just before they started to spiral.

Calm down Ashley, it’s only the first date!

She waved at the uber driver to signal that she’d seen him before turning back to Dougie. “See you tomorrow?” Ashley asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be starting work a little later on the one off, as it was the exhibition opening tonight,” Dougie nodded, “I’ll be there,”

Ashley grinned at him, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, laughing softly as his jaw dropped.

“Bye, Dougie,” she said softly, walking over to the car.

“Bye,” she heard him murmur, just as she closed the door.

“Hot date?” the uber driver teased.

“The hottest,” she grinned back.

That earned her a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the driver pulled away from the curb. Ashley glanced out of the window, only to see that Dougie hadn’t moved at all – other than his fingers brushing over where she’d kissed his cheek, a hopeless smile on his face.

What a first date indeed.

*

To: Ashley

From: Rod

So how did the date go?

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

The exhibition was incredible. You need to take your wife, for real.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

I actually meant the guy but sure…

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

He was a perfect gentleman and…amazing.

You’ll get your full gossip on Monday.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

Boo fine.

I’m glad you had a good time though!

See you on Monday

*

 “I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

Wasn’t the saying that if things seemed too good to be true, then they probably were not?

Ashley had gone to bed feeling over the moon, elated, bubbling with excitement. But when she’d woken up, it was like a dark cloud had settled over her, a heavy rock of anxiety sitting on her chest. Everything had gone so well last night. So well. Too well? This wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten her hopes up only to have things fall apart around her – and her hopes had skyrocketed last night. All she felt was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it made her feel sick.

That niggling negativity had swum around her brain over and over again, and she hadn’t been able to shut it off – not when she showered, not when she got dressed, and not when she sat on the sofa debating whether or not to actually turn up at the coffee shop.

Was this really what things had come down to? Tempted to break her solid routine, the exact routine she’d had every week, just because a guy made her nervous? Was he really that important? Was she really that much of a coward?

She sat on the sofa so long that she passed the time she would normally leave. Hell, she passed the time she would normally be sitting down at her usual table. Oh god she couldn’t take this. It was too much. Her legs bounced nervously as she pulled up the message thread she had with him, typing out a message to cancel…

…and then she deleted it.

Fuck that shit. No matter how anxious this whole dating thing made her feel, nothing was worth this. She couldn’t just not show up, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. Fuck this. As quickly as she could, Ashley grabbed her laptop and her handbag, driving as fast as she could to Storm Surge.

When she parked her car, she noticed that she had a few texts from Dougie. Oh god.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m coming a little earlier than usual today!

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you running late?

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you coming?

~

Oh god. Ashley winced, practically running to the shop, immediately spotting Dougie at her usual table in the back. The sheer relief on his face made her wince again. Fuck. His expression dimmed at little, but she quickly ordered her usual latte from Andrei, who looked an interesting mix of confused and concerned, but she headed over to Dougie without hesitating.

“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” she murmured, setting her coffee and her laptop down on the table.

Dougie frowned at her briefly, clearly taking in whatever the hell her face was showing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Might as well tell him the truth, right?

“I, uh, I was second-guessing everything?”

“Second-guessing?” Dougie asked, frowning harder.

Ashley just sighed. “Yeah, um, it’s dumb. I just…it all seems too good to be true? I woke up feeling like I’d gotten my hopes up and…fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel stupid now,”

Looking up at Dougie’s sad face immediately made her regret telling the truth, but it was too late now. Fuck. Why did she have to ruin everything? The fact that he was staying silent just made everything worse. Should she just go?

“What do you want to do now then?” Dougie eventually asked “or do you not know?”

Ashley swallowed heavily, looking down at her hands briefly. Hah. The million dollar question. “I know that I like you?” she offered.

Dougie huffed a laugh. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to get mad if you don’t want to go on another date,” Dougie said with a sad smile.

Oh god that was worse. He should never sound that disheartened – it wasn’t right. And it was all her fault.

“Would you even want to go on a date with me again when I’m this much of an anxious mess?” Ashley sighed.

After last night, this really wasn’t where she’d seen her day going. Self-sabotage was a bitch. But it was her own damn fault. It always was. But then Dougie reached his hand forward, fingers brushing over hers lightly to get her attention, making her blush as he smiled a bit more genuinely.

“Yeah, I would like to,” he nodded, “I had a really great time yesterday night, and I still want more,”

Oh, so maybe she hadn’t ruined everything then. What? Well shit, she was grabbing this second chance with both hands.

“I had a great time too,” Ashley admitted, blushing a little bit more, “even with this stupid anxiety,”

“Good. That’s…that’s really good,” Dougie laughed, “well, not the anxiety part, but I’m going to prove to you that this isn’t just getting your hopes up,”

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

Dougie smiled at her, a truly genuine happiness, making her breath catch in her throat. Fuck she didn’t deserve this. But there was no way she was going to let herself ruin this, not now.

“Maybe we could just talk for a couple of hours before I have to go into work? Have some coffee, a couple of those delicious blueberry-lemon scones, and just see where things go?” Dougie suggested.

Ashley nodded, the tight ball in her chest immediately loosening. God, he was such a nice guy. “I’d definitely like to get to know you more,” she agreed.

“Scones are on me then,” Dougie grinned.

Hope. A second chance. Bring it on.

*

When Dougie eventually walked into work, his shared office had more people in it that he cared for. Well, okay, that was a little mean. But right now was not the best time for the combination of Jordie and Foegs as well as Sebastian and Teuvo, especially not when all four of them had met Ashley last night. Not when they were all so intense. Not while things were still so tentative.

“So, how did it go?” Jordie asked excitedly, “it looked like the two of you were having fun!”

And here we go.

“Well last night, at the exhibition, went really well, but…”

Jordie and Foegs frowned as he trailed off, Sebastian and Teuvo just looked confused. Dougie sighed and sat down heavily at his desk.

“She was really hesitant this morning. Like, so full of anxiety that she almost didn’t show up for coffee,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What do you mean?” Jordie asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“She thinks it’s too good to be true?” Dougie winced.

Foegs looked a little stunned, Jordie’s jaw dropping. But then Sebastian jumped to his feet from where he was sitting on Jordie’s desk.

“Well then you’ll just have to sweep her off her feet!” Sebastian said firmly.

Really? Dougie sent him an unimpressed look, but Sebastian’s pout stayed serious as Teuvo giggled.

“As much as I hate to say it, Sepe has a point,” Foegs shrugged, making Sebastian stick out his tongue at him, “the two of you looked like you’d really hit it off when we were all talking, and the fact that Ashley did meet you this morning means a little anxiety shouldn’t stand in the way,”

“Take her on another date. Wine and dine, man. It’s a classic for a reason,” Jordie added, nodding seriously.

Well shit, if Jordie was being serious then maybe it would work.

“Thanks guys,” Dougie murmured, smiling softly.

“Anything to land you the woman of your many dreams,” Jordie beamed.

Dougie just blushed. Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows, Teuvo just punching him on the arm. It was almost a nice moment.

He waited until Foegs, Sebastian and Teuvo had left to start working before he pulled his phone out, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to say.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m glad I saw you today.

I hope you’re still doing okay.

How do you feel about getting dinner with me?

~

Dougie jiggled his leg nervously as he logged into his computer, waiting with baited breath for any reply.

And then eventually, his phone buzzed. Ashley. Thank god.

~

To: Dougie

From: Ashley

I’m alright thanks. That scone definitely helped ;)

I would love to get dinner with you.

~

Dougie couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Good. This was good. They exchanged a few more messages, eventually figuring out that because of his next few late nights with the exhibition and her essays she had to mark, neither of them were really free until next Saturday. A whole week away again. Fuck. No, this was going to work. Dougie knew it was worth it – and if she needed him to text a lot over the next few days to remind her that he was all in, that he wasn’t just going to disappoint her like those other guys, then he absolutely would.

Wine and dine next Saturday. He could absolutely do this.

“Hey, what was the name of that place you took your wife out for date night a couple of weeks back?” Dougie asked, looking up at his boss.

Jordie’s face lit up. “Oh man, it was so good…”

*

As Dougie promised himself, they kept texting throughout the week. He told her fun stories from visitors to the exhibition. She told him silly comments her students made that she couldn’t respond to without laughing in class. He told her all about his time in Boston. She told him all about her time in New York. He sent her a picture of the cutest trio of dogs his neighbours adopted. She sent him a picture of a sunset that took her breath away. Things were…good. He was just glad that Ashley seemed as enthusiastic as she was before their first date.

All he could hope was that he was proving to her that he was different. That he was serious about giving their budding relationship a shot. He hadn’t bonded with someone as quickly as this, as deeply as this, ever – so he wanted to see where it went. The unknown with Ashley genuinely excited him, and he wanted her to feel the same excitement.

He could only try to be good enough to deserve her.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Dougie was a nervous wreck. He’d left work exactly on time for once, Jordie giving him a thump on the shoulder and Foegs a thumbs up (he mostly ignored Sebastian and Teuvo’s shimmies), racing home to change into a nice sweater and his favourite pair of smart jeans. Casual but like he cared about making an impression. That was what he was aiming for.

And then Ashley arrived 10 minutes early, just after he’d arrived himself, looking nervous but happy in the prettiest baby blue tea-dress he’d ever seen, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty pink lipstick. Wow.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted.

Oh god. Mr Smooth, again.

Ashley just blushed, smiling up at him. “Thank you. I love your sweater,”

Dougie blushed in return. What a pair they made.

“After you,” he said, opening the restaurant door for her.

As much as her anxiety had worried him, he was so glad he didn’t give up – she was absolutely worth it. They were lead to their table, Dougie being a bit extra and pulling out Ashley’s chair for her, but the giggle he got in return was what he was aiming for. Wine and dine. Sweep her off her feet. That’s all that he wanted to do, and if it was working then he wasn’t going to stop now.

“I was thinking we could split a bottle of wine tonight, if you want?” Dougie offered.

“Yeah that sounds good to me,” Ashley nodded, “Maybe a white wine?”

That was more than okay with him. Red wine made him a little…over the top? He definitely talked too much when he had red wine, he knew that much, and he wanted to save at least a little dignity tonight. Hopefully, at least.

The wine was ordered, and by the time they each had a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, Ashley looked as relaxed as Dougie felt. He could only hope the rest of this night turned out the same way.

“So did I tell you what one of Rod’s students said to him yesterday?”

Dougie grinned, shaking his head. “No you didn’t!”

Ashley grinned back. “Well…”

They talked for hours, sharing stories about their jobs, their interests, their families, not stopping when any of their three courses came, not hesitating even once. Nothing was awkward in the slightest – their conversation just flowed like they’d known each other for years, and Dougie’s heart was just so happy. This was everything he’d wanted for so long, someone he could truly been 100% himself with, and he couldn’t believe that she seemed as into him as he was into her.

How was this possible, after only two dates?

Time flew by so fast, too fast, and they did eventually have to leave their table, even as much as Dougie didn’t want the night to end. He just felt utterly consumed by her, completely and utterly lost in her very being, and he didn’t want this feeling to stop for anything.

It probably didn’t help that they’d split three bottles of wine though.

It wasn’t enough to make either of them sloppy drunk, not with the delicious food they’d eaten, but Ashley was definitely a bit more giggly than usual, and he was definitely smiling like an idiot.

“I wish your uber wasn’t on its way,” Dougie sighed, when they were outside.

“I’m actually not a far walk from here, so I was just going to walk home?”

At this time of night? Absolutely not! Ashley saw the look of indignation of his face and burst into laughter, making him blush (again). What? He wasn’t wrong for being worried about her getting home safely.

“You could always walk me home?” she suggested.

Oh. Oh. Oh yeah okay, he could do that.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dougie nodded quickly.

Dougie’s heart started beating a little faster as she looped her arm through his, and it was all he could do not to smile at her too helplessly. How did she manage to affect him like this? He’d never fallen so head over heels so quickly. And she seemed completely oblivious to how gone he was for her – in the most innocent of ways.

They walked slowly, leaning on each perhaps a little more than they would without the wine, but it just meant that they had more time for talking. Dougie was blissfully happy to let Ashley rant about the indignity of the black myth surrounding Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking in everything that she was trying to teach him. He loved how much she loved her medieval history, just like he loved his art. It was quirky and different and so unique to her. And honestly, he could picture them doing this together for years, discussing their passions and their love for their careers and…

“Okay this is me,” Ashley announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Dougie looked up at the old two-storey home with a smile. So this was her home. Pretty.

“That wasn’t so bad a walk,” Dougie grinned.

“I feel bad now though, making you get further away for your own journey,” Ashley frowned.

But Dougie shook his head. “It’s fine really. I’m sure there are plenty of ubers still running around here,”

“Well…”

Ashley trailed off, biting her lip, making Dougie smile. What was on her mind?

“You can stay, if you want?” Ashley said, a shy smile on her face.

Oh fuck. Stay? Ashley saw the shock on his face, before she blushed furiously, quickly shaking her head.

“I have a spare bedroom! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Dougie couldn’t help but laugh, tugging her hands away gently. Not that he was opposed to…sharing a bed with her, but that wasn’t the vibe of tonight. Tonight was for building them up, getting them to a more comfortable level. And fuck did it feel good tonight.

Waking up to see her first thing in the morning would only be icing on the cake.

“I would love to stay, as long as you don’t mind,” he said softly, brushing his hand against hers.

Ashley inhaled sharply but nodded, wordlessly reaching in her handbag for her keys. They stayed silent as they walked into the house, Dougie barely moving a foot away from her as she showed him the kitchen, the bathroom and then the spare bedroom. He could do a proper tour in the morning, he knew that. He was just a little stunned that he was even still with her, to be honest.

“So here’s some basketball shorts that my cousin left last time he visited. I don’t have a shirt big enough for you though,” she apologised, handing him a soft bundle.

Dougie just shook his head, smiling. “This is more than enough. I usually sleep shirtless anyway,”

Ashley’s lips parted a little in surprise, her eyes glazing over slightly, making Dougie grin as she shook her head as if to clear it. Good to know he had that effect on her.

“There are spare toothbrushes under the sink from when I last when to the dentist’s office, so help yourself to whatever one?” she offered.

Dougie just nodded, squeezing her hand as he walked into the bathroom. He willed himself to retain at least a little bit of chill as he got changed, quickly washing his face and cleaning his teeth with one of the toothbrushes she’d offered. This was all still a little bit surreal, being honest. But he was going to seize this with both hands – this was a chance he was never going to get again if he fucked up.

Ashley couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him as they swapped places in the bathroom, and Dougie tried not to grin as he flexed his abs a little, making her blush. He could have a little fun, right? Especially since he knew the boundaries he needed to stay behind, he wasn’t dumb.

By the time he’d put his phone on charge and folded his clothes onto a chair for tomorrow, and then headed back out into the corridor, Ashley was back, dressed in a cute little pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt. Oh wow, he could definitely imagine her wearing his t-shirt to bed one day. No, not the time!

“Hey,”

Ashley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“See you in the morning?” she said hopefully.

Like fuck he was going to leave. “Bright and early,” he nodded.

But when she didn’t go anywhere, her hand moving to rest on his bare arm, Dougie couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards her. Fuck. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away, and that was all he needed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked lowly.

Ashley’s lips parted in a soft gasp, but she nodded. “Yeah, please,”

Dougie raised a hand to cup her face, giving her one last out, but as she raised up on her tiptoes he didn’t hesitate any further. He leant his head down, and pressed his lips to hers softly, barely able to stop the moan that wanted to tear from his throat. Holy shit. Ashley clutched at his biceps, leaning up into the kiss even more, making Dougie’s head spin as he kissed her softly, slowly, over and over again. This was so not what he expected from tonight, or even hoped for, but fuck did it fill his body with butterflies. Holy shit, kissing her was everything. Eventually, he brushed his tongue against hers gently, before pulling away, knowing there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Wow,” she nodded, laughing softly, “That’s one hell of a goodnight,”

Dougie laughed softly too, pecking her lips in a soft kiss one last time before stepping away. She leaned against the wall, looking a little stunned, making him grin as he walked into her spare bedroom. If he didn’t walk away, he knew he would do something stupid to break them out of this perfect little sweet bubble, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not tonight.

Tonight had been perfect. 

*

Ashley woke up slowly, a little groggy, feeling like she was forgetting something. Then she heard the bathroom door opening, and everything came flooding back to her. Dougie was here. He’d stayed over after their date last night. They’d kissed. Holy shit. Holy shit. She took a deep breath to calm herself, fingers rising to her lips without a second thought, and it was all she could do to smile.

Dougie had kissed her. And it was everything.

She squealed softly into her pillow, feeling stupidly giddy, before quickly picking out a cute jumper and her comfiest skinny jeans to wear. She could hear him moving in the spare bedroom, so she quickly darted into the bathroom, washing and then brushing her teeth, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the toothbrush that Dougie used resting in the holder. There was just something about it that felt right.

She took a deep breath, running her hands down her sweater to smooth it, before she headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. It didn’t take long for Dougie to join her, and he accepted the glass of juice that she passed him with a smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” she said softly back.

Dougie seemed to hesitate slightly, before his face became determined. She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before he leant down and pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Ashley whimpered softly into his mouth, earning a soft noise back, and it was all she could do to clutch at his sweater. Holy shit. This was just as incredible and sweet as she remembered from last night. Wow. Dougie cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he slowed the kiss down to a few gentle pecks, before he pulled away with a smile. Ashley just smiled back up at him, a little overwhelmed in the best way. Wow.

“Coffee shop?” he said.

“Yeah, if that’s alright,” she nodded.

He understood her routines. And he didn’t care that she wanted to stick to them. How could she not appreciate that?

Dougie just nodded in response, smiling as he sat down at her kitchen table, taking a sip of the juice she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind changing out of last night’s clothes though. Not really my vibe,” he teased.

Ashley giggled, understanding perfectly. It wasn’t her vibe either.

“I could drive you over to yours, to get a change of clothes, and then we could head to Storm Surge together?” she suggested.

“Yeah? You want to walk in together like that?” Dougie asked, a little hopeful.

Holy shit, that would be one hell of a declaration. But…

“Yeah, I want that,” she nodded.

The grin that spread across Dougie’s face made the butterflies in her stomach worth it.

“Let me just put on some mascara and lipstick, and we can go?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Dougie smiled.

Now that was a dangerous thought.

All too soon, Ashley was parked down the street from the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, Dougie sending her an encouraging smile, before she steeled herself and got out of the car. This was nervewracking. Storm Surge was her home away from home, her safe space, her comfort, and now she was completely changing the status quo. But as Dougie walked to her side, smiling down at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew it was worth it. He was worth it.

“Ready?” Dougie asked, holding out his hand.

Holy shit. Bring it on.

Ashley smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers, embracing the butterflies that came with the warmth of his grasp. They walked to the coffee shop together, Dougie squeezing her hand gently as she opened the door and walked through.

“Ashley! And…Dougie?”

Andrei’s gasp made her blush, Dougie just laughing. Then Andrei’s face broke into a huge grin, and he spun around.

“Marty! It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Andrei yelled into the back of the shop.

What the hell?

A door slammed open in the back, and then Marty came barrelling out. He took one look at them holding hands before punching his fist in the air.

“LET’S GOOOO!”

Ashley flinched at Marty’s loud voice, but couldn’t help but giggle when he bounded over to Andrei, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

“Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been rooting for you two?” Marty beamed.

Oh god. Ashley blushed furiously, as did Dougie, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Was I that obvious?” Ashley asked shyly.

“Both of you were. It was so frustrating but so sweet,” Marty shrugged, Andrei nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “We just hoped you guys would take a chance,”

Take a chance. Hah. That’s definitely a good way to describe it. And he was so worth taking a chance on. Dougie smiled fondly down at her, before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Well I’d say our second date went pretty well,” Dougie said softly, squeezing her hand.

Ashley smiled back, nudging him with her shoulder, earning coos from Marty and Andrei.

“Okay, you two are giving me cavities,” Marty said cheerfully, not even slightly annoyed, “Coffee and anything you want to eat, on the house. I need to tell Slavs – he’s going to be thrilled!”

Ashley just giggled, leaning into Dougie’s body as she looked over the cakes and pastries on display. Being with Dougie, this fledgling relationship, was scary – but it was also so exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next. This was the start of something amazing, she just knew it.

[filterjeons]

he loves me not | jhs

“did you ever fall in love with me?”

✦ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

✦ summary: he was the man who caught your eye ever since he smacked your face with a soccer ball in elementary. you loved him for over a decade....but you can’t find yourself to confess.

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut, i’ll let you guys find out what the other genre is 😏

✦ word count: 4.9k

✦ warnings: college au, soft dom!hoseok, fingering, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, get ready for an emotional ride <3

He loves me, he loves me not…

Those were the same words that you kept repeating for a few days now, a flower representing if the man you have a crush on likes you back. To any other person, it seems stupid that a flower will judge your love life but you heartily disagree. Flowers and love have always been associated with one another and from a viewpoint, it makes sense on why picking petals off of flowers can determine your fate with the person you love. 

Jung Hoseok. You two knew each other but at the same time you didn’t. The first time you two caught each other’s eyes was during elementary school. He was one of the popular kids: with his cheery smile, bubbly personality, and warm aura, nearly everyone became friends with him. You, on the other hand, were more of a wallflower. You only had a few close friends and you spent your time reading books instead of playing games. Some people call you boring but who cares about them. 

During recess in 1st grade, you decided to read in the middle of the field. It seemed ideal, the grass was green and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue. There wasn’t even a cloud in sight. All of a sudden, a soccer ball came speeding towards you and hit you straight-up in the head. You couldn’t remember what happened but when you opened your eyes, you saw a worried Hoseok hovering face-to-face on top of you in the nurse’s room.

“Y/N-ah! You’re okay! I’m so so sorry that I hurt you! I should’ve known you were there.” 

“It’s okay. Uh, my head kind of hurts…”

“I’ll go get some ice for you!” When he passed the “ice bag” (which was basically a frozen paper towel), you felt a peculiar feeling. You didn’t know why but there were sparks when you grabbed the ice bag from him. What was it? Eventually, he had to leave for his classroom but when you were free to leave the nurse’s room, he offered to walk you to class. By then, you figured out what that feeling was. And it became a 12-year crush on the boy who hit you with a soccer ball. 

Like some coincidence, both of you attended the same college together. You didn’t expect to see anyone from your school during your freshman orientation but when you saw the familiar sunshine smile, a wave of relief and fear washed over you.

Hoseok being the extrovert that he is made friends with nearly the whole campus, is in a sorority, and hosts the biggest parties the university has ever seen. You continued to be the loner that you were but luckily you found a close friend in Nayeon. 

As you and Nayeon were strolling across campus, you saw Hoseok and his girlfriend talking and chattering with Starbucks in their hands. You felt a pit of jealousy in your stomach, internally yelling at yourself for not having the guts to tell him how you truly feel. 

However, you expected him to go out with someone. He can’t stay single forever just for you because he barely knows you and your feelings. If he did, then you would move to another state out of embarrassment. 

“Y/N, stop looking otherwise he’s going to think that you’re creepy!” Nayeon giggled, pushing you away from the couple. “Why won’t you ever talk to him?” “I can’t. We didn’t really interact during high school.” “Look, college is about starting a new life. Come on, you’re 18 now! You’re an adult! Don’t let your fears get in the way of having fun!” “Besides, they’re dating!”

“So? You can be friends with him!”

“Not now, I have class. I’ll see you around!” You made way inside the building and into your sociology class, the professor setting up his computer for a lecture. You didn’t know a lot of people here and the person who sat next to you dropped out. 

All of a sudden, a guy with rainbow-styled clothes and a vibrant aura entered, giving a high-five to the professor and waving to your classmates. Your eyes widened, the man who has been invading your thoughts is actually in the same class with you. 

Hoseok scanned the room for a place to sit, his face brightening when he saw an empty seat next to you. Your heart started to race, he’s actually going to sit next to you! “Oh, Y/N! I didn’t know you were in this class! I just got moved here and I’m so glad I found someone I know!” 

“Yeah, uh, hi. I thought you were gonna sit with someone else.”

“Nah, actually I wanted to talk to you ever since orientation but I never saw you around. However, I saw you walking by and staring at me and Julia.” Oh, that’s his girlfriend’s name. Interesting. 

“Heh...no..you didn’t see anything!” “You’re cute. I hope we have more classes together!” After everyone has settled in their seats, the professor started going on about the lesson but you couldn’t care less about what he had to say. The way Hoseok was so invested in the powerpoint but occasionally stopped to play games was more intriguing than whatever was going on. No, he must think you’re crazy. You snapped out of it and attempted to focus on the screen. 

“From this week’s lesson, I am going to assign you all a project. Your will be grouped by pairs and they will be determined by the place you’re sitting in right now.” You internally counted down the pair of seats from the row you’re in and sure enough, you’re paired with Hoseok. He smiled at you, holding your hands excitedly. You obviously reciprocate the feeling but your head didn’t let you show it. 

“Yay! We’re going to be doing our project together! This is going to be so fun!” You smiled and nodded, trying to come up with things to say but your mind was blank.

“W-wait, would your girlfriend be okay?” Wow Y/N, that’s the first thing that you say? Way to get your man. 

“No, I think she’ll be chill. Besides, you’re like one of my childhood friends so it’s cool.” At least you’re a friend in his eyes. 

The session ended 15 minutes later and you couldn’t wait to get out. As you quickly stuffed your books and laptop in your bag, Hoseok tossed a little airplane at your head. 

“That’s my number if you want to talk about the project and...other stuff. If you’re free tomorrow, do you wanna get started? There’s a party I want to go to at the end of the week and I want to get this out of the way.” “Uh, sure. I’ll text you later,” you said shyly, zipping your bag up and exiting the room. You felt your body sweat and your heart pound rapidly. Your brain still can’t wrap around the fact that Hoseok sits next to you and you will be working on a project together.

“Hey, what’s up? You look like you just got out of a haunted house,” Nayeon said as you approached the familiar bench where the two of you always sat. 

“Hoseok just transferred to my class, he sits next to me, and we’re doing a project together!” “Ooh, go get your man!” 

“No no, this is bad! I always act so weird around him! Plus he wants us to work on it tomorrow! What should I do?” “First, relax. Take a deep breath,” Nayeon instructed, placing her hands on your shoulders as you slowed down your breathing. “Next, don’t worry about a thing. Try to push aside your feelings for him and talk to him as you would with another person.” “Only he’s my crush for about 12 years!” 

“So? I know it must be awkward due to your feelings for him but if you act awkward, then you wouldn’t be close to him. And you want that, do you?” “Yeah…” “You got this, don’t worry!” Nayeon’s words gave you some hope and encouragement, which made you feel better. She was right, you can’t keep acting this way for long. Even though he was dating someone else, at least you’ll have him close as a friend, right? 

You never told anybody this but you secretly kept a daisy and you picked off the petals every day. It was down to four petals and you decided to take two off.

He loves me, he loves me not. 

However you didn’t want it to end with a negative note so you picked one last petal off. 

He loves me.  

The next day came and you were sitting at a local cafe, waiting for Hoseok to arrive. Since you arrived a few minutes early, you had enough time to go over what you want to say and if you look good enough. 

Surprisingly, he came on time and even gave you a mini hug. You watched as he placed his bags on the ground and pulled out his laptop. 

“Hi Y/N! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” “N-no, not at all! You came on time actually!” “Good, well do you want to order anything at first?” “Sure, I really want coffee right now!” As you two waited in line, you shyly gazed over at Hoseok who shined brighter than any sun in the world. You accidentally brushed his hand with yours, causing him to laugh. 

“How come we didn’t talk much throughout high school? I can’t remember the last time I really talked to you except yesterday.” Hoseok asked, scanning the menu for a drink he’d like. “I don’t know, I guess we had different classes and you were more popular than me…” “But I would’ve been friends with you no matter what.” 

“Would you? I’m not exactly the most popular girl in school.” “Yeah. You seem chill and it’s nice having a reserved friend against all my loud and hyper ones. I hope you take it as a compliment.” “Uh, I do. What are you gonna get?” “I’ll have a vanilla latte. It’s a classic but it’s iconic at the same time.” “I’ll get what you’re getting.” You watched him order and talk casually to the cashier, a common thing you’re scared of doing. It must be nice dating him, he sounds like the guy who can be the life of the party but still has an eye for you. 

“Do you want me to pay for my-” “No, I shouldn’t have to make you pay. I mean they say the gentleman pays for the first study date,” he replied, swiping his credit card. Oh my god did he just say-

A few minutes later, the cashier gives you your drinks with your name scrabbled on the cupsleeve. You and Hoseok grabbed them at the same time, accidentally bumping together. You blushed at the proximity, jumping back with fear. Geez, why are you acting like this? You really are a fool. 

An hour later and both of you made decent progress on your projects. Hoseok decided to take a break and scroll through his Instagram while you worked on some slides. 

“Hey, Y/N, do I follow you on Insta?” “Uh, I’m not sure. I think so?” He checked his phone again, a frown on his normally joyful face. “No I don't. What’s your username?” “I’ll type it in for you.” 

He nodded and passed you his phone. You quickly typed your user, hit the follow button, and went back to his profile. He had a lot of followers due to his popularity and personality, which shocks you considering that you’ve never met someone with over 5,000 followers. 

“Y/N, ever since I saw you yesterday I wanted to get to know you. I feel bad that we barely interacted throughout high school and I want to make up for that. So just hit me with what you got.” He leaned forward, interested in hearing what you have to say. 

Your mind immediately stopped working as you quickly tried to come up with an interesting conversation. And the only event you could think of was the time where he hit you with a soccer ball in elementary school. 

“Actually Hoseok, we have known each other since we were 1st graders.”

“Really? Were you in my class back then? God, I can’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday but you manage to remember that.” “Yeah, there was a time when I was reading out in the middle of the soccer field. I was the perfect target to be hit which is what you did. I don’t remember what happened after the ball smacked me in the face but when I woke up, I saw you waiting for me. You offered to give me ice and walk me back to class when my headache stopped. We barely saw each other after that but that was still one of the most significant moments in my life.” “Oh yeah, I still feel bad that I did that-” You took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve to say what you’ve always wanted to say to him. It’s now or never, just do it! 

“Hoseok, ever since that day, I’ve loved you since.” Your words shocked him, his mouth dropping open and his eyes the size of saucers. He tried to comprehend what you said when all of a sudden, you burst into tears. 

You shouldn’t have said it, it was too soon. Your vision blurry of tears, you stuffed all your stuff in your bag and ran out of the cafe. 

“Wait, Y/N! Wait! Hold on, we need to talk about this!” “I’m sorry Hoseok, I shouldn’t have-” “No, this is important! Y/N, look at me!” He spun you around and forced you to look at his face. You tried to blink away your tears and he quickly flicked them away. 

“Y/N, are your feelings true? Did you love me for that long?” 

You nodded slowly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again. It was so scary waiting for him to either reciprocate those feelings or walk away. 

All of a sudden, he gave you a kiss. And it wasn’t like any other peck, it was one full of want and passion. He quickly pulled away and gave you a tight hug. 

“Thank you for telling me how you feel. And I like you back.” 

He broke the hug and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two walked towards campus. You felt your heart slowly relax, he likes you as well! Maybe all that pining and worry was for nothing! “Y/N, it’s getting dark so do you want to stay at my dorm? I don’t have a roommate so it’s okay,” he said, heading the opposite direction from the path that leads to your dorms. 

“Sure thing. It’s okay as well.” You were totally freaking out inside, you’re going INSIDE his dorm. After a few minutes, he opened the door and you carefully walked in, your nose wrinkling a bit. Iwas messy due to the overflowing trash bags full of takeout and beer bottles but overall it wasn’t too bad. You hung your bag on a random coat stand full of jackets and baseball caps. There was a blanket and a pillow on his couch where you could possibly stay. 

“Sorry if it doesn’t look too appealing, I’m kind of lazy to clean my room,” he sighed, stuffing the full bags in a random corner. You shook your head, carefully sitting down on his couch. Hoseok sat down next to you, loosely laying his hand around your shoulders. 

“So, what do you want to do Y/N?” “I’m not sure. Is it bad that I want to stay like this?” “No, I do too.” He moved closer to you, your bodies touching and you felt heat rise up to your cheeks. You lied down on your back and you felt his presence above you as he slowly leaned closer to you. “Do you want to do this?” You couldn’t think of the right words to say, were you really about to do it with your crush? It’s now or never, Y/N. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. 

“It’s okay, I want to do it. But I’m not experienced in this type of stuff,” you confessed.

“Then I’ll teach you. I’ll go slow with you, I promise.” He kissed you again, the same feeling like the one outside. It was slow and romantic, just the way you imagined. He probed his tongue in front of your mouth, asking for entrance to which you let him in. Hoseok started to remove your T-shirt but stopped immediately to ask for your permission.

“Are you sure this is okay with you?” “Yes, I promise. I’ve always wanted this to be with you.” “Good. I’ll make you feel so good.” He pulled off the shirt and carefully took off your white bra, a mundane action that made you feel butterflies. After everything was taken off, you immediately covered your chest. You weren’t used to being exposed to someone like this, much less the guy you love. 

“Don’t worry baby, you look beautiful. I promise,” Hoseok assured, gently removing your arms. He latched his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking on them feverishly. You let out a loud moan before biting your lip to stifle them. What if someone was there? “Don’t hide those moans for me, baby girl. I want to hear them,” he murmured, his mouth still on your breast. After hearing his words, you started to let out a series of moans and whimpers. While his mouth was on one, he was using his fingers to play with your nipple and tug on it a bit, a loud whine escaping your mouth.

“Please…” “Aww, does it hurt, little girl?” You shook your head as he slowly made his way over to your jeans, cupping your covered heat. You could feel yourself become more wet since no one has ever been near that area before and you wanted him to touch you more. Hoseok hastily pulled off your jeans and underwear, throwing them off to the side. 

You felt embarrassed that you were completely bare in front of your crush and you wondered if it was too soon to back out of this. But what’s done is done and you’ve wanted him to see you like this for a long time so you decided to have some confidence. That’s what Nayeon told you, right?

“Did you ever have something in you?” 

“No, this is my first time ever doing this. I’m kind of worried.” “It’s okay, I’ll help you. Now, I’m going to do a bit of foreplay to get you ready for my dick. It’s basically like warm-ups before the actual thing. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.” You felt his fingers linger near your entrance and you nodded at him to enter. He suddenly purged a slender finger inside you as you let out a moan, him slowly thrusting to make you comfortable. 

“You look so cute, taking my finger like it’s my cock. I don’t even know if you’re ready to even take it.” “I am! I’m ready! Please, keep moving!” You felt a wave of confidence overcome you, surprising yourself and Hoseok. He turned his shocked expression into a smirk, curling his finger and adding another one inside you. 

He was stretching your walls out well to later accommodate his dick, making scissoring motions inside and finding your g-spot. All of this pleasure was too much for you as you held onto Hoseok’s arms and fed his ego with mewls and whines. You couldn’t form a single word due to the pleasure he was giving you, even though it was only two fingers. 

“Ah, ah, Hoseok, I-” He suddenly adds a third finger and keeps thrusting quickly, his palm rubbing your clit. His palm was quickly replaced by his mouth as he sucked on it harshly. 

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for the first time? Are you close?” he teases. 

“Oh my god, oh, Hoseok…” You felt tiny beads of sweat drip down your forehead from the heat and pressure, your walls tightening around his long fingers. 

You felt a knot in your stomach which you assumed that your orgasm was coming soon. Hoseok could also tell and kept going faster, making fast come-here motions and playing around with your clit. 

“You’re close now, are you? Such a good girl as I stretch your tiny pussy out for my big dick. That’s right baby girl, cum for me now. Cum all over my fingers and face.” His words were your breaking point as you felt that knot snap, your orgasm arriving. You moan out Hoseok’s name as he stares at your cum flow out of your system. He sucked on his fingers before taking some of your juices and bringing it to your mouth. You suck on them wantonly, causing Hoseok’s dick to twitch. Maybe someday you can suck him off with your cute mouth.

“Good girl, you did so well baby,” he praises, making your stomach have butterflies from his words. You watch as he strips himself to his boxers, your eyes widening on what could be under them. He palms his cock for a bit, staring into your eyes seductively. 

“Are you ready for this?” You nodded rapidly, wanting to have his dick inside you. He slowly pulled down his boxers and his cock immediately sprang up, looking erect and large. You gulped at what’s going to enter you, Hoseok smirking at your reaction. 

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay. I’ll go slow at first, I promise,” he assured, the tip of his cock slightly brushing against your pussy. 

You braced yourself for him to enter you, whining as you clenched around his length. 

“Oh my fucking god, you’re so tight. You’re doing well baby,” he groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing in. You found yourself at a nice pace but after a while, you signalled him to go faster. This is really it, you’re going to be losing your virginity to him! He started to ram into you quickly, his dick filling you up and hitting many different nerves inside. You clawed on his back, trying to keep yourself steady from the insane pace he was going at. 

“Look at you trying to take my cock, such a cutie,” he coos, toying around with your breasts again. You let out a mewl at his words, lewd sounds filling the room. Your walls started to clench around him tightly causing Hoseok to let out low grunts and moans. 

The now familiar feeling of your orgasm started to make its way again, the knot returning as you approach it for the second time. Hoseok could tell that you were close as well with the way your cunt was tightening around his dick.

“You going to cum again, baby? That’s right, make a mess on my big dick,” he grunts, slowly reaching his own high as well. 

You let out a moan as your juices came pouring down again, your whole body shaking and your cunt sensitive from cumming twice. Little white stars started to appear in your vision from how much pleasure you had. Hoseok started to thrust faster and suddenly pulled out, stroking his length to release all of his seed onto your stomach. After it stopped spurting out, he took a minute to catch his breath and leaned down to kiss you on the lips. 

“How was it, sweetie? Was it okay?” he asked, caressing your cheek.

“I-it was great. Thank you so much, I didn’t expect it to be like this.” “I’m going to get a towel to clean you up and some clothes. I’ll be right back,” he smiled, leaving the living room for a bit. 

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about what you’ve done with him. Even though many people your age think of sex as just a way to get pleasure, it meant a lot to you because you were giving your body and trust to a person. Obviously, Hoseok was very special to you and you were grateful that it was him who took away your virginity. You loved him enough to let yourself be exposed to you and you knew that he must’ve had sex with other girls but did he feel something special with you? Was it only you who were feeling this way. 

Hoseok came back dressed in a T-shirt and shorts and in his hand was another T-shirt and a towel. He carefully wiped off the cum that landed onto your stomach and thighs, making you get goosebumps from the touch. You put on the T-shirt he gave you, the bottom of it reaching your thighs. 

“So am I going to stay here for the night?” “Of course! Why would I let you go back home at this hour?” “Uh, am I going to sleep on the couch?” “Hell no, it’s too stained for you to sleep there. You can sleep in my bedroom with me.” 

You felt your heart beat faster from the thought of sleeping next to him. He picked you up bridal style since you were too sore to walk and laid you down on his bed. Since it was late and there wasn’t anything you needed to do, you decided to get ready to go to bed. 

Hoseok watches you go to sleep and decides to join you. He stares at the ceiling, thinking about what he did with you. It was nice seeing his childhood friend again and he definitely enjoyed having sex with you but he felt different after. When you confessed your feelings for him at the cafe, his heart felt relieved for some reason. It was different than when his exes and current girlfriend confessed. 

Do I love Y/N? 

He leans over to you and lightly strokes your hair, finding you adorable. He wishes he found you sooner since that day in elementary school, he wishes he asked you out earlier. Maybe tomorrow he could ask you to be his girlfriend. But that would mean he’s cheating and he was never a big fan of breaking someone’s heart just to be with another person. It made him less of a person and all of a sudden, he felt guilty about what he did today.

You were such a sweet person and he didn’t want to harm you by rejecting your feelings...but he doesn’t want to break the trust of a person just because you were a childhood friend. 

Hoseok’s heart ached as he decided to let you go due to the guilt of cheating on his girlfriend, even though he would much rather have you here beside him. 

The next morning, you found yourself awake with Hoseok sitting next to you. You smiled as you remembered what happened yesterday, feeling better than ever. 

“Good morning, Hoseok!”

“Ah, good morning, Y/N!” “Do you want anything for breakfast?” “Listen Y/N, I need to talk to you about something. It’s important so please listen. Uh, yesterday shouldn’t have happened and I feel like you shouldn’t have slept with me.” 

“Wait, why?” “Do you remember that I have a girlfriend?” “Did you break up with her?” “No...so that means I cheated on her.” 

You felt your heart break as Hoseok avoided eye contact with you. Your first time was with someone who had a girlfriend and he cheated on her with you. 

“You’re right. This shouldn’t have happened. Why was I stupid enough to let you take my virginity?” “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t think we can see each other anymore.” You felt hot tears drip down your cheeks, feeling embarrassed and foolish. The man you loved took your virginity but it meant nothing. It was just a one-night stand. 

“I’m going to go now, I don’t feel comfortable here. But I have a question, you know how much I loved you for over a decade. How much that night meant to me and how much you mean to me. Did you ever feel the same way? Did you ever feel something between us during that time?” 

You looked at Hoseok’s face, scanning to see if there’s any emotion. He looked into your eyes but he shook his head. Hoseok desperately wanted to say yes but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt someone else for you.

“N-no, it meant nothing to me. I guess it was just a one-time thing. This shouldn’t have happened, I’m sorry that I never told you before.” 

You let out a sob as you made your way out of his bedroom, grabbing your bag and putting on your shoes so you can leave. You looked back to see if Hoseok followed you but he still remained in his room. With your heart torn into pieces, you trudged out of his dorm without a final goodbye from him. 

It’s been a few hours since you and Hoseok saw each other. Luckily, you didn’t have class together but you stared at him talking with his girlfriend like nothing never happened. He locked eyes with you and there was an intense connection for a moment but you broke it since that’ll never happen again. 

You pulled out the flower which only had a petal remaining. Even though flowers don’t accurately predict your love life, this one knows what will happen between you and Hoseok. You thought he loved you back but it turned out to be nothing. A tear fell out of your eye as you pulled out the last petal, the answer evident from the now-lifeless stem. 

He loves me not. 

a/n: hope you guys don’t hate me too much over the ending! love y’all <3

[sor-vette]

four, circus!! (index/description)

☜ three, an all-out fight club!!

☞ five, dots!!

t/w: dead bodies, mention of overdose

"This has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Yoongi thinks to himself as he blankly stares at Jimin, transferring the PPT file to the projector.

123 slides in "Reasonable arguments as to why we should date, _̵͚̾͌_̶̢̛̘̅͛̕_̶̡̧̝͗̒̋̌̚_̴̮̒̍̿̃͠ .

"Wrong PowerPoint bro," Jungkook grunts with closed eyes. No doubt the idiot had tried to stalk you throughout the night. It's been three days since Erik had officially enrolled.

Namjoon also has his eyes fixed on the projector, his expression giving nothing away.

"Resigned to death, poor bastard, as you should."

Jimin momentarily looks behind him to see why Jin had started to snort in laughter before scrambling to choose another file.

56 slides in "What do we know about Erik and what to do about it?"

"The title could be less verbose," Jin remarks, spinning his chair around the room.

"You're one to talk, literally," Jimin sneers but, there is very little malice in his voice if any. Besides Namjoon, V and Hope, who actually stuck to his word of minding his business, Yoongi didn't know anyone personally in the room. Though he sure has heard of the connections they had with you. Each weirder than the other.

Namjoon, the CEO, the one who went overboard in commitment and scared you off. Rumour was he offered marriage before the first "I like you." But that as well could be bullshit.

Hope, with the most cordial contact out of all. And also the most distant. You two had fundamentally different perceptions of how the world worked. Incompatible match, as the saying goes.

Jin. Despite the grandeur of his character, Yoongi knew very little of him. Even less as to why you left. He presumed the lack of commitment on both sides.

Jimin, the almost. For five months Yoongi had to hear nothing but coy whispers of just what good friends you two were. What good time you both had jumping back and forth from Paris and home. And then with zero explanation, you weren't. Every once in a while, he'd see the two of you in the hallway. Working hard to suffer through an exchange of pleasantries between long awkward pauses. The whispers had been effectively stomped to death, with no one the wiser as to what the hell had happened.

V, the one you hated and the one who hated you. How the two of you even met was beyond anyone's understanding. How you didn't rip each other's throat out even more so. Why he was here? God only knew.

And the last one, JK. Your trainee before Erik. The one who'd shamelessly bounced, leaving you in the dust when the enrollment came with a nary of thank you. After that, you officially joined the cleaner department and largely went missing from the public eye.

And, of course, Yoongi himself. The only official boyfriend. The one who officially broke both of your hearts.

"If all of you could please focus!" Jimin snapped, standing with a wad of paper in hand, waving it like a teacher in front of particularly annoying group of students.

"He even made notes," Namjoon whispered faintly.

"More like a manifesto," Yoongi snickered, letting his eyes wander over the sheer thickness of the file.

"Silence!" For a split second, Yoongi wanted to make a jab about a chihuahua being able to bark, but having considered his own height, he chose to be silent.

"So, let's start with basics. Erik Genyer. Joined two and a half years ago through a recruitment agent. He's 24, lived in Seattle before moving here. No known parents or siblings." Jimin recounted with ease.

"I hope you didn't look through his records," Namjoon frowned at the screen. "Because I did not authorize that."

"Does it count as looking if it's a brief glance?"

"Yes."

"And yet here you are benefitting from it." Namjoon could only breathe through his nose a tad harder.

"Why are you telling us this?" Jin interjected. "Mr CEO here could just give us his file - we'd read for ourselves."

"I will not. That's against company policy."

"And what you're doing here is completely legal and non - invasive." Jin raised his eyebrows, not phased even in the slightest that he was much below Namjoon's position.

"Silence!" Jimin yelped again at the front. "Has anyone here worked with Erik?"

"Hope definitely has," V piped up from his seat, looking as uninterested as one could. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him. V took the piercing glare in stride, haughtily turning away.

"Well, yes but..." Jimin shuffled on the stage almost awkwardly. "He has strictly declined the invitation to our little... boy band."

"Wait does that mean he could tell _̸̢͉̦͔̣͈̱̅́́̓͊̇̂̓́̕͝ͅ_̸̨̙͚̻̬͖͉̻͔̑̓͐͜ - I mean R.D.?" Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes wide. Even Yoongi blanched at the thought. Everyone straightened in their seats. This was all fun and games until the moment you knew. Oh, you'd rip each and every one of them a new asshole. All of them could kiss goodbye to any attempt of trying to mend bridges. By that point, there wouldn't even be a river stretching underneath.

"I sincerely hope not." Jimin whispers and they sit in a moment of silence, weighing the risks.

"Heh, hope not." Jin suddenly gives a breathy laugh solely to be met by a general aura of disapproval.

"It's not funny." Namjoon scolds slightly but, Jin being Jin, openly looks him into eyes and goes -

"I know."

Amidst the banter, JK raises his hand shyly.

"I trained with him for a short while."

"And what is he like?" Jimin's eyes almost sparkled at anyone giving an actual insight.

"He must be wearing contacts or something," Yoongi mused, pushing the cap of his water bottle around the table. He knew Jimin to be attractive. No one in the entire company would shut up about it, nevertheless, something about him seemed almost supernatural.

JK shrugged in response.

"A bit rude and careless but talented. He finished training early."

"Did it seem like he was particularly going after her?" Namjoon interrogated further. There was a deep scowl of resentment on his face.

"Uhh, no. I think he was interested in the cleaner department in general. Apparently, he spent most of his orientation there."

"He also spent a month in surveillance. Did you speak with him...V?" If V was surprised by Jimin addressing him personally, he didn't show it as he continued to inspect his nails.

"Didn't even know he was there."

"Why did he stay so long in the cleaner department?" Yoongi asked as he ran over the information on the screen. Besides the already mentioned month in surveillance and a week in networking and relations, this Erik hadn't even tried to apply anywhere else.

"Poor communication skills. I had to throw him out. That's why he was only there a week." Jin explained.

"So you spoke to him?"

"Well, no, Irina," he was interrupted by a hollow thud. Without prompt V had dropped his steel thermos onto the desk, tea splattering everywhere and staining JK's jacket in the process. Both of them fumbled to clean it up with anything they could. V dabbed the desk harshly, the wood creeking at every aggressive wipe. Yoongi saw Jin looking sideways, the same confused expression echoed on his face.

"Well, as I was saying, Irina, R.D.'s friend, I'm sure you're familiar, came to me, said he was causing trouble and asked to refer him."

"And you sent him to R.D.?"

Jin gave a deeply suffering sigh.

"No, I did not send him. I referred him to general management and they gave him to the cleaners ."

"Ok, I get all of this. But what are we supposed to do about him?" Namjoon interrupted, jaw set in a tight grip.

Jimin fell silent at the front of the room.

"Yeah, this was the main question." Yoongi thought bitterly.

It was all a question of ethics, wasn't it? JK could pretend all he wanted to be above it all, to be respectful but then he trailed secret circles around you. Whether from guilt or perhaps a sense of entitlement. Yoongi didn't know or really care. Nevertheless the kid clearly had a hard time differentiating between what he said and what he did. Yoongi was however surprised to see Namjoon be so eager. He quite fancied making himself bald from worrying about the nature of evil. Just how easy it was to hide it behind big aspirations of providing aid. But it seemed as of late all of that was tossed aside.

Jimin was the one who orchestrated this in the first place, and so naturally, everyone looked at him for guidance. He was still shuffling around, nervously fiddling the blue pen.

"Well, first of all, I think we should talk more to R.D." A huff passed around the room.

"Talk to her?" V asked sceptically, mouth set in a straight line and heavy wrinkles carved between brows.

"Do you have any idea how difficult that would be?"

"Certainly it would be for you," Yoongi snarled, earning a harsh glare.

"Listen, at the end of the day, it's not really about us trying to force her into something. It's just to make sure... she's living a safe life. Well, the safest that's possible." Jimin said with enough sincerity to trigger certain insecurities within Yoongi and by the look of it also Namjoon.

It was no secret that between the seven, they were the most possessive over you. Both having the wrong idea that you were theirs. Which is why you left and why you probably were so caught up in Jimin. The purity and sheer selflessness of his sentiments acted like a punch to the gut. The genuine care that he reflected like a sun made the raw wound in Yoongi's chest seep even more. To be loved like that would be a dream come true. Yoongi shifted his attention to the laminated floor.

"We talk to her, find out what her life is like, keep a close eye on what Erik does. Talk to other cleaners about him, and once we find out, she's happy. That's. The. End. Of. That." There was no uncertainty. Jimin was dead serious.

The meeting was adjourned, quite amicably actually, but Yoongi knew that the rest of them had ulterior motives and plans. He had them too.

Jin and JK were no threat. Both were too uncertain of what to do with you.

Jimin had some deep-seated self esteem issues. Despite his 123 slide presentation, the way he spoke made it clear. That's probably why the abrupt parting, Yoongi mused. Both of you most likely shared the same anxiety about not being good enough for the other.

V was just V.

Namjoon was the only one Yoongi was truly worried about. Even from looking at his back, walking headstrong up the stairs, Yoongi could see how stubborn Namjoon was. In a way, it was like looking in a mirror. The possessiveness, the mulish mindset. They'd saw you, all of you and had decided that this was it. Yes, Namjoon would certainly be the toughest rival. However, Yoongi was very good at playing the long game. Especially if he wanted something so bad it felt like his thorax slowly being ripped out.

All that was left was Hope. But he wasn't even a viable player. After all, he hadn't even shown up.

***

"Why the fuck is he so heavy?" Erik grunted, swaying left and right and holding onto his dear life to the bagged pair of legs.

"Rigor mortis...set in," you huffed in answer, from the upfront of the body. "At least he wasn't rotting already. That's just nasty. 1, 2, 3."

Both of you lift the body into the van and let the poor bastard drop with a soft thud. Sweat pooled underneath your white hazmat suit with plastic glasses digging straight into your brain. You banged hard against the "EMT" van, and it drove away, carrying Dr. Martin Leyster to the morgue.

Should the neighbours see anything, it was a sad story of a depressed psychiatrist accidentally overdosing on his own meds. The evidence of him manipulating his most vulnerable patients into bankruptcy erased in you any stray feelings of sympathy though.

"You have the peroxide?" You rifled through the cleanup bag, but instead of answering, Erik began to actively point somewhere behind your back. A cold chill ran up your spine as you realize someone has been watching you stuff the body in the trunk. It quickly dissipates when you see a familiar smile.

"Hard at work, I see," Hope whistled, bounding towards you more like a kid on a school trip, rather than what the reality was.

"May I borrow your mentor for a bit?" He asked politely, still smiling up at Erik. There was no warmth in his expression.

"You are after all now an official member of the cleaner crew. Surely you can handle this on your own."

Erik looks at you for a moment before giving a loud sigh and trudging back to Leyster's office, the white toolbox angrily swishing back and forth in his hand.

Without hesitation, you remove the glasses from your head, revelling in the ease of pressure. Hope had stopped smiling altogether, looking quite pensive.

"What brings you here?" You ask lightly. To see him here is not worrying per se, but certainly interesting. He gives a quick shrug.

"Nothing much. Wanted to see how you were doing after that runt's little stunt." You only laugh at the shallow animosity. Erik's talent to drive people out of their patience was truly remarkable.

"I'm doing fine. You know... working. What about you?"

"I've been working as well."

You both fall silent.

"You ever thought about leaving the BH?" He suddenly asked, and you quirk a brow at the question.

"Not particularly. Have you?" Hope focuses a blank gaze at the grey walls of the multi-story apartment complex.

"A little bit. Last few days especially." You stand in muted shock. Hope was the last person you thought would quit. He was, without doubt, the most devoted, the most passionate out of all the hundreds of employees. He lived for the cause, he himself said so. And yet now he stood uncertain in front of you. Not really the bright and friendly Hope everyone knew, not really the strict and somewhat terrifying training teacher. He was just...quiet. It was an upsetting scene.

"Do you want to go for a drink or a lunch, maybe?" You offer, reaching for the zipper of the white suit. Yes, Erik could handle this on his own. He was a big boy. Hope hastily placed his hand atop of yours, pausing the movement. Even through the fabric, it radiated warmth. No wonder people called him sun. He frowned at the conjoined hands, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles before lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"No, no. I don't want to burden you with my problems." You didn't believe his smile for a second.

"Well, I won't steal you away for much longer, the pup might get anxious." He turned around, by the looks of ready to sprint off.

"Hey, wait!" He paused, not looking back.

"Do you why JK has been stalking me?"

"He has?"

He had. The first time you noticed a shifting figure in the background, you wrote it off to the combination of hangover and exhaustion. The second time he'd run off into the night faster than you could catch up. The third time you nearly flung yourself off the roof when seeing a pair of doe eyes staring back at you from an empty apartment building.

"There isn't like an alliance going around between some of my... acquaintances?" Truth be told, you found the very idea ridiculous, but it had wormed its ugly way into your brain and was now near impossible to get out. JK, Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon wouldn't even get along with each other. Even though those four were most likely to meddle in your business. However, if looking realistically, it was probably just your paranoia taking an intensive round. Seeing suspicious cars, watchful eyes and snooping noses where there were none. Hope threw you a sardonic smile.

"That would just be stupid."

(a/n)

In this story people have their names and codenames and will be often used interchangeably. It all depends whether in the story the POV character knows the names of others or not.

[witchy-mel]

The Note

[A/N: This is a Russell x Petey "one-shot" fanfic. I put one-shot in quotes because I low-key kinda ship them and this is basically just my interpretation of how their relationship would... begin(if that makes sense lol). I won't be necessarily adding on to this, but if my school work doesn't take over me, I might make different situations of this ship(or just draw it idk). FYI: I'm going to be using Petey's full first name when he's not being referred to in quotes just in case you're wondering why he's referred to so formally lol(idk why i did it this way, but it's just better for me than to just use 'Petey' all the time).]

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It was 3:30 pm on a Thursday. Classes were over for the day. Kids were racing out of classroom doors, hurrying to meet with friends to talk about weekend plans and whatnot. Something Peter wished he was doing right now. Unfortunately for him, he was walking down the halls with Derby Harrington. They were talking about their part of the class project they got assigned to in English. Luckily, they got the easiest part. All they had to do was a six-slide PowerPoint report summary of the current novel the class was reading, Romeo and Juliet. Every one else was assigned a skit or some sort of visual representation, and Peter was glad he wouldn't have to experience another episode of 5th grade. But his luck didn't last long because he got paired up with Derby. If he had a list of Preps that he couldn't stand, Derby would be at the very top. His snobbish behavior irritated him and he was going to have to deal with it for two weeks. He couldn't switch partners either because Mr. Galloway had already picked these groups in advance so he was just going to have to deal with it. Hopefully, he won't drive him crazy before the end of the week.

They had stopped by Peter's locker so that he could put away his stuff and grab his book. "So, we'll do three slides each, then, " Peter said while neatly stacking his things into his locker. The golden-haired boy leaned on a locker next to Peters, examining his manicured nails with one leg crossed over the other. "Let's keep this simple, okay. Harringtons are very busy people, y'know." Derby said, who was now examining the nails on his right hand. 'Yeah, because buying yachts and spending daddy's money is soooo time-consuming,' Peter thought while rolling his eyes. Ignoring Derby's statement, they proceeded to talk about how they would set-up the project. While they were discussing their plans, the hallway next to them was emptying faster than when one of the bullies would chuck a stink bomb in the cafeteria, making the already horrid smell of the lunchroom even more unbearable.

Kids were darting left and right, frantically trying to avoid the person that was coming their way. Cheerful conversations were replaced with gasps and footsteps tapping against the floor. It was Russell and he was heading straight towards Peter's locker. His head hung low, his face dull and ominous. His power-walk made him look even more threatening. It wouldn't take him long to get there. "... and make sure to be prepared the day before the due date. We don't-" Derby was cut short after he took a glance up from his hand, seeing Russell storming towards them. He quickly fled into the bathroom that was close to the lockers.

Peter, on the other hand, was still rummaging through his locker. He was looking for his book for the project. He could have sworn he had put it on the top shelf. He had already toned out Derby earlier, which was for him, but it was a little too quiet. "Sorry, what were you saying?" Peter asked as he closed his locker, pretending as if he was listening. He'd imagined Derby would be standing there with his arms crossed with an impatient look on his face. Strange enough, he had completely disappeared. "Derby...?" Peter called out while he looking around, but no response. He just shrugged it off; more time to work then. He decided to use a copy online until he can find his.

He turned from his locker and was greeted by Russell looming over him. His tan skin slowly faded into a sickly white as he locked eyes with the taller and significantly larger pupil. His face was red, and his eyebrows were burrowed. Was he mad? But why at him? He greeted him nervously, "Uh...h-hey Russell," his voice small and shaky. Russell suddenly slammed his giant hand against Peter's locker, trapping the petite boy in between himself and it. The noise of the metal clashing together made Peter jolt and hiccup a gasp. There were so many thoughts were racing through his head. 'What is happening?' 'Did I do something wrong?' ‘Is he going to shove me in the locker?' ‘What does he want from me?’ Russell had begun to raise his tightly balled fist. Peter just flinched beneath him and waited for whatever was to come. A minute passed before he realized that he was still in one piece and wasn't smooshed into someone's messy locker. Peter slowly opened his right eye to see if it was just some prank to scare him. Well, that's what he hoped. To his surprise, he saw a little, white, wrinkled envelope resting in Russell's large palm. "For...Petey," Russell said, who was now looking away from the smaller boy, his face slightly flushed. Peter carefully took the envelope out of his hand. "Ah- t-thank you," he said, with a fearful grin. Russell removed his hand from the rusty green locker and shoved them into his dirty, jean pockets then walked away from Peter, leaving him lost for words.

Peter watched as Russell walked away until he disappeared behind the hallway walls. After grasping what had just happened, he slammed his body into the locker and slid down to the tiled floor. A sigh of relief escaping his lungs. He looked at the envelope in his hand He turned it around in his hand. 'What could be in this?' he thought as he studied the envelope. Knowing Russell, surprises from him either left you injured or eternally traumatized. "Is he gone?" asked a voice coming from the right of him. He turned his head towards the bathroom to discover the once obnoxious and over-confident prep cowering behind the boys' restroom wall. It was kind of funny. He couldn't blame him, but still. "Yeah," Peter answered back. He was trying to hold back laughter. "Good. Speak of this to anyone, and I'll have daddy sue you." Derby threatened while he brushed off his Aquaberry vest and recomposed himself. Peter quickly cleared his throat and put on a straight face. “Well, now that that's over, I'll be seeing you tomorrow in English, so be prepared.” He then proceeded to walk down the hall towards the main doors. Peter decided it was his time to leave as well and because he was getting sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long. He pushed himself up and headed for the boys' dorm.

When Peter entered the dorm, it was quieter than usual. It was practically empty. Well, it would be if Gary and Jimmy weren't sitting on the couch watching some cartoon on the tv that he didn't care to recognize. ‘Just great…’, he thought. If they spotted or heard him, especially Gary, they'd probably hassle him about the letter. He had to figure out a way to get past them quietly. Then it came to him. As ridiculous, and probably unsanitary, as it was, he got down on all fours and started crawling to his room. Since he was small enough, it would be easier for him to sneak past. Successfully making it past the entrance to the living area, he now had to make the final stretch. As soon as he was far enough from the doors, he tiptoed the rest of the way to his room. When he got to the door, he slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door wide enough so that he could quickly slip in. He slid through and gently closed the door.

The duo continued watching tv in the living room, but Peter's plan didn't necessarily go as planned. Unfortunately, the main doors weren't as quiet as he was. "He does know that we heard him come through the front door, right?" Gary asked before taking another sip of Beam Cola. "Just let him have his fun," Jimmy replied, still focused on the tv. There was a moment of silence until Gary placed the can on the floor next to him and leaped over their couch, "I'm gonna see what he's doing," Gary said. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and headed towards Peter's room. Jimmy sighed, then t switched off the tv.

Safe and sound he hoped. Peter plopped straight onto his bed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the envelope. He examined it a bit closer than when he was in the school halls. It was sealed with a barely sticky, small, pink heart sticker, and on the back was a note that read 'For Peter' written in three different shades of red in colored pencils. He lifted the sticker from the paper and pulled out the neatly folded piece of notebook paper stored inside. But before he could even read it, it was snatched out of his hands. "What'cha got here, femme boy? A love letter? Let me guess... it's for Beatrice, isn't it?" Gary teased, "Or wait, maybe it's for one of the jocks. I know how much you love to watch them during football practice in those tight pants." Gary pestered, causing Peter's face to go red. He didn't even hear him come in. He knew he should've locked the door! He had to get that letter back before he read it. "Hey, give that back!" he cried, stretching his arms up to grab the piece of paper Gary was taunting him with but was failing to reach it. "And it's not mine; someone gave it to me," Peter explained, still stretching for the paper. He knew he shouldn't have said that, knowing it would only make this worst. "Ooh~, a secret admirer, huh~?" asked Gary, seeming even more interested, "It can't be any of the girls. Hm...maybe one of the nerds or, better yet, one of those idiotic bullies! That seems right up your alley." Gary insulted. A sly, toothy smirk painting his face. Peter had stopped reaching for the paper bowed his head, tightly balling his fists up in his lap, almost digging his nails into his palms. His vision became blurry, and his face was hot.

"Cut it out already, would ya? Geez." Jimmy instructed while propped up on the door frame, his arms folded. "What? I was just playing around," Gary shrugged. Peter quickly snatched the paper out of Gary's hand, secretly wishing it would have given him a paper cut. "You're such a jerk, you know that?" Peter snapped back, clearing his watery eyes. "Aw~ did I hwurt da baby's feewlings? Here let me kiss it better." He extended his arms, attempting to hug the smaller boy but was restricted by a hand pushing on his chest. "Shut up..." Peter responded irritated, dodging eye contact.

"Well, when you two are done making out, I would like to know what's going on here," Jimmy said impatiently. "Little Petey here got a love letter," Gary said, pushing himself away from Peter. Jimmy raised an eyebrow, "A love letter? From who?" This was the part that Peter didn't want to happen. He knew if they found out, they'd probably, no DEFINITELY, laugh at him. Especially Gary. That's why he wanted to get to his room unnoticed. But he couldn't just sit there in silence, wishing he could turn back the time. He took a deep breath and spoke, "...it's…from Russell..." the boy softly answered.

"Russell?!" the duo exclaimed, jaws practically dropping to the ground. "So I was right! Haha, that's hilarious!" Gary laughed as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world. Jimmy elbowed him in the arm, almost causing Gary to fall. The taller boy glared back at Jimmy while rubbing his arm. "What does the letter say?" Jimmy asked. Peter uncrumpled the paper from when he snatched it out of Gary's hands so that he could read it. The handwriting was really neat, but the grammar was close to illegible. He tried his best to decode the message. "Meet Russell at...Old Bullworth Vale Garden tomorrow... at 4:00 pm." ‘4:00?’ 'What does he want to meet up for?' Peter thought about the incident that went down at the lockers and it sent shivers down his spine thinking about it.

"Ooo~ little Petey's going on his first date." "Would you cut it out already?" Petey shot back. He was growing tired of Gary's little comments. That combined with the thoughts of Russell potentially trapping him a port-a-potty only gave him a headache, and Gary wasn't making it any better. "Could you guys just go…please?" He said while rubbing his forehead. This was stressing him out. The two said their goodbyes and left Peter to drown in his thoughts. He could hear them arguing outside his door, but he wasn't paying much attention. He was still thinking about the note. He laid down on his bed and stared up at the broken ceiling fan. He thought to himself, 'Why did I read it?' 'What if I just threw it away? Then what?'. Peter didn't have time to worry about the ‘what-ifs’. He had a project to do. He groaned and rolled out of his bed. Sitting at his desk, he opened up his laptop and began working. Hoping that this would keep his mind off of it.

It was the next day at school. The day was nearly over, and Peter felt as though he had made no progress at all. All his day his mind was fogged up with recurring thoughts. His thoughts had shortly came to a stop because a faint voice was coming into tune through his right ear "…ey. Hey! Snap out of it!" It was Derby who was snapping his fingers, trying to pull the dazed boy out of his trance. "Hm? Oh, sorry, I got a little distracted..." Peter explained. "A little?! You've been "distracted" almost during the entire class! This is the third time I had to wake you back up!" Derby responded sharply. "I said I was sorry, alright? I just have a lot on my mind right now..." Peter explained. “Ha! What exactly could poor people even think about? Now is not the time for jokes, Kowalski.” Peter stared him down, now even more annoyed. He wished he was daydreaming again. Derby rolled his eyes and sighed. "Whatever, let's just get back to work," Derby instructed. They continued to work on their separate slides, Peter trying his best to keep his head out of the clouds.

*RING* The sound of the last school bell. To Peter, it sounded like the final gong before disaster struck. He stopped by his locker to put his stuff away before heading to the dorm. When he got to the dorm he headed straight to his room. He entered his room and sat on his bed. He sat there for a while. He scanned the wall in front of him until his eyes landed on the clock. A couple more minutes until it was time to meet up with Russell. He stood up and walked to the mirror behind the bed. He stared at his reflection. He looked drowsy. He hardly got any sleep last night. It was because of the note. That stupid note kept him in and out of sleep. Even when he was doing his work, that couldn't take his mind off of it either. And this was all because of a piece of paper. More so the person who wrote on that flimsy piece of paper. He slapped his face a bit to wake him up a bit and bring the color back to it. He contemplated whether he should change his clothes or not, but he decided that was unnecessary. It's not like he was going on a date or anything, despite what Gary said, so he just took off his vest and fixed up his shirt collar. He looked back at the clock. It was about time. He looked in the mirror and gave himself a reassuring nod. He headed out his room and straight to Old Bullworth Vale Garden. At least he would've been if he didn't have an unexpected visitor.

Gary was standing in front of him, his hand raised to knock on the door. Great, another person he didn't want to see today. They stared at each other for a while. “Look. I have somewhere to be, so if you have something important to say, hurry up.” the smaller boy explained. “Rushing to see your new boyfriend, huh?” Gary teased. Unsurprisingly, he only came to annoy him. Peter tried to walk past him, but Gary quickly blocked his path again. Peter sighed, “What?” he asked impatiently. “Look, I'm sorry, ok. For yesterday.” “You really think I'd fall for that? I know Jimmy told you to do this.” “Well, yeah. But if I didn't, then you'd ignore me for the rest of the week. Then teasing you won't be as fun. So…apology accepted?” Gary asked with a crooked smile. Peter shook his head. “I'll think about it.” He responded firmly. He pushed past Gary and continued on his way.

Well, here he was. No turning back now. He scanned the park looking for Russell, but he couldn't see him anywhere. Fortunately, he brought the note with him. Peter pulled the note out of his back pocket and unfolded it. He re-read it to see if there were any directions. Nothing on the front. He flipped it over to the backside. In blue-colored pencil was a message in the middle of the paper that read: 'Meet by soda machine' He stuffed the paper back into his pocket and treaded up the long stone path. When he reached the stone wall before the picnic area, he paused for a bit. There he was. He was sitting on the far left of the stone bench, staring out into the distance. He puffed out his chest then walked over to him. "Hey, Russell!" Peter greeted with a tiny wave, trying not to sound scared. Russell spun his head around and directed his vision to the smiling boy. Hi, Petey..." the red-head replied meekly, his cheeks a little flushed. "Mind if I sit here?" Peter asked, pointing at the vacant spot on the bench. Russell shook his head which allowed Peter to pop-a-squat right next to him.

"Sooo, what did you want to talk about?" Peter asked. Russell was nervously twiddling his thumbs, avoiding eye contact with the smaller boy. He never felt this anxious about someone, especially someone who he deemed as weaker than him. And that was nearly everyone! But for some reason, Peter was different. "Well...," he started, slowly, "Russell has been feeling weird. Towards you…" "Weird? What do you mean?" Peter asked curiously. "Whenever I see you...Russell get a weird feeling in my stomach, and heart goes fast," he answered. He could feel his cheeks getting hotter. It took Peter a while to realize what he meant. When he did, his eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wait, are you saying that you like me?" Russell nodded, his cheeks becoming darker by the second. "For how long?" "A while," Russell responded shyly. Peter was still shocked about the unexpected confession. He didn't know whether to feel relieved that Russell wasn't going to make him walk home smelling like the boys' gym locker room or surprised that Russell had admired him.

He never considered Russell to be his type, not that he had one, but he's pretty sure not many people's types are destructive bullies. But he had to admit when Russell wasn't threatening other students for their lunch money, he was kind of… cute, when he was like this, in one way or another. That's one thing he never thought he would think about Russell."It's okay if you don't like-" Russell began before being cut off by Peter, "N-no, it's fine. I don't mind..." he said while rubbing the back of his neck. A little splash of maroon now tinting his cheeks. Russell was surprised by the response a bit, but it shortly turned into a soft smile.

It was starting to get late, and Peter didn't want one of the prefects reporting him for being out after curfew to Dr. Crabblesnitch. "Well, if that's all you wanted to talk about, I should be getting back to the dorms." He explained. "Russell give you ride back," Russell offered. Thinking about it now, Peter didn't have any way to get back to the dorms, and he didn't like walking around at night. "Oh, okay. Thanks." Peter followed behind Russell towards the entrance gates to retrieve his bike. He stepped onto the spokes and tightly wrapped his arms around the bigger boy's waist. "Ready?" Russell asked. "Yeah," Peter replied. Russell raised his foot off the ground and started pedaling.

Russell was biking slowly just in case he went over any bumps, Peter wouldn't go flying off. The smaller boy was resting his head on his back and his arms wrapped around him gave his butterflies in his stomach, but the good kind. Peter was able to take in the scenery from the beach. The sunset made the town look so peaceful, especially the beach. With little speckles of the sunlight bouncing off the water, it was as if the sea were a peach that contained all of outer space. The scent of Russell's cologne and the view made Peter feel calm. He involuntarily nestled himself closer into his back which caused the redhead's heart to beat faster it could nearly pop out of his chest. He smiled to himself as he continued pedaling towards the school purposely going a bit slower so that the moment would last longer.

They arrived back at the school not long after. Russell parked his bike near the first step of the boys' dorm. Walking up the stairs, Peter stopped at the highest step and Russell two steps behind him so that they were at eye level. Or at least where Peter wasn't bending his neck to see not even half of his face. “Thanks for giving me a ride back.” the tiny boy praised with a gentle smile. “You're welcome," Russell replied sheepishly, blushing. There was small silence between them. The whooshing of the lukewarm early autumn wind filling in for some of the white noise. Before anyone could say anything to break it, Russell planted a little peck on Peter's forehead before walking back down the stairs to his bike. Russell waved back at Peter before getting on his bike and hitching it back home. Peter watched as Russell rode out to the courtyard as they waved at each other. When he was completely out of sight, he slightly touched his forehead and smiled to himself before entering the boys' dorm.

As soon as he got to his room, he fell onto his bed. He took one of his pillows and covered his blushed face in case someone walked in him. Little giggles passing through the pillowcase. He rolled around joyfully, completely messing up his bedsheets. The excitement letting loose throughout his body. He finally had calmed down after a session of frolicking all over his bed. He had almost forgotten to finish the rest of his slides. Now that his mind wasn't as cluttered as before, it would be easier for him to work. But considering what had just happened, he'd probably be distracted thinking about that now. He headed to his desk so he could get started, but before he even sat down, he noticed a book on top of his laptop. There was a piece of paper attached to it with clear tape. He picked it up and sat at his desk chair. Pulling the paper off revealed the cover of the book. Romeo and Juliet. He took a look at the note the was stuck to it. It read:

['Hey femme boy. I stole your girly book. I realized that I didn't want any of your girliness or any of you rubbing off on me, so I decided to return it. Be grateful.'

Sincerely,

You're BFF Gary Smith ;) ]

'So that's where it was huh?' Peter thought. He tongued the inside of his cheek before releasing a slightly annoyed laugh. At least he got his book back. That's all that really mattered. He'll get him back later, but for now, he had work to do. He flipped open his laptop and continued his previous work.

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That's the end! I'm not really good at writing(even tho my strong suit is English/Literature 👀), so I hope that this was at least a little bit enjoyable/entertaining and not too cringy😅

[heauxanthem]

So my wife @jane-ray and I had a little bit of a miscommunication about CNCO doing a presentation/performance. But when i read it, it caused me to think. What IF CNCO had to do a presentation on the human blood circulation for Biology Class? Even tough they're not the same age and wouldn't be in the same class but okay.

Zabdiel

The quiet one. You know the one that insists on standing the furthest away from the smartboard/poster. You can see him bewilderedly waiting for his cue because he's still looking on his paper trying to rehearse what he was suppose to say.

Richard

The one that made the PowerPoint because "biology is not my thing but i have some really cool PowerPoint templates". Even might go all the way and make a Prezi. Or even better if it's a poster, you know it'll turn out beautiful. In fact, so beautiful it secretly counts for half their grade and the teacher asks them if they can hang it up in the classroom. He makes the visual aid and does the introduction and the last word because he knows how to charm and joke the audience into listening!

Joel

100% the one that did all  the research maybe with a tiny bit of help from Zabdiel. Not because the other didn't WANT to help but because he must have a virgo placement somewhere. What I'm trying to say is that I KNOW he was a micro manager in high school. If it's not up to his standards throw it away because he will do it all himself. Insists also that people should do the parts that they researched. When Erick reminds him that he did all the research and they should probably distribute the powerpoint more evenly. You know he did all his research thoroughly though and that bitch ain't got NO FLAWS, like the BeyoncexNicki song. Very passive aggressively puts his name first in the presentation

Erick

Tweedledee. See the problem wasn't that he got chosen into the workgroup. As an individual he is just serious enough to do the work you assigned him while still keeping the mood light and fresh. He might be a bit silly but it's actually his strong suit while presenting. People really want to listen to him because he's entertaining. No no no, the problem wasn't Erick...the problem was the addition of Tweedledum

Chris

Tweedledum. Now Chris is one of those students that if he could just get his energy together and stop talking and joking around for 5 minutes, he could probably be an excellent student. Trust me, he hears it every parent-teacher conference. Normally the teachers do everything in their power to keep Erick and Chris away from eachother but these groups were made by a randomizer in front of the whole class so they really didn't have anotber choice. 100% looses his mind everytime Erick accidentally says orgasm instead of organism. Because of that, starts laughing everytime the word organism is supposed to come up. Which makes Erick nervous during the presentation and accidentally does say orgasm. Chris looses his mind again. Whole class starts laughing. Everybody except Joel starts laughing. Erick and Chris start to do a stand-up routine while Joel tries fruitlessly to regain the reigns.

They absolutely still get a 8,5//B+//17,5/20 depending on where you are from. Just because the teacher had to take off a few points for it not being within time and although it breaks their heart they don't want to encourage the stand-up special by Tweedledum and Tweedledee. They laughed as well though.

Straight A's Joel is PISSEDT and promises to himself that he will never make eye contact with any of them ever again, except a polite hello to Zabdiel. Unfortunately and unbeknownst to him, Chris has already adopted him and all the other guys as his best friends so we'll see how that goes.

Tag yourself as these presentation archetypes. I'm probs Joel.

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 11

Episode 23.

Misato is going to be haunted by fuckin' Kaji forever and so am I. Fuckin' Kaji.

This appears to be the episode where I have to assume budget and deadlines were becoming intractable foes for Anno because there doesn't seem to be any easy way to paper over gaps and I spent the entire time feeling faintly like the experience was dissolving.

My grappling for understanding behind the cut.

Here's what I do know: Misato is so absorbed in listening to fuckin' Kaji's message in her office that Shinji and Penpen are left to their own devices, which are just being concerned about Misato.

Ritsuko talks to her grandmother about a dead cat.

Ritsuko's desktop background is an old photo of her, her mother, and Gendo Ikari, where her mother left room for Jesus between her and her daughter instead of her and Gendo (you'd need at least five Jesuses for protection from the hollow-eyed ghoul of insecurity and misery). I hate it.

Overcome with her sense of failure, Asuka's just broken into the class rep's home and has imposed the world's longest and worst sleepover on this poor normie girl. Asuka's just playing videogames, crying, and sleeping which ... yeah, fair. At night Asuka shares a bed with Hikari and curls on her side, far away and miserable, her face hidden, whispering about her failures and her hatred and her hatred of self. Hikari stares at the ceiling and can say nothing of substance because she is also a child.

The Obelisk Committee is back, interrogating Gendo to absolutely no end because you have to ask questions AND get answers to them for an interrogation to work and also when he gets notice that there's an Angel sighted he just nopes right out of there. Your interrogation is not going to be successful if the guy you are trying to pin to the wall can just go 'sorry I have to take this call' and flush the phone down the toilet while you watch.

This week's Angel is a giant hula hoop made out of light and x's which I feel probably puts it right in the middle of the cuteness scale. It's not horrifying to look at but it also doesn't have a cute little face. I miss the ones in the early episodes that had cute little faces.

The obelisks are determined to crush Gendo and suspect he isn't loyal to them which ... again, the obelisks make some good points.

The plan is for Rei to sniper the Angel with Asuka providing backup. Asuka feels terrible, miserable, and pointless about the whole thing because seriously it seems like no one has talked to her since last week when she was psychologically tortured by the Angel? I'm surprised Asuka's even there, in the robot, but I suppose habit is powerful.

Once the EVAs are deployed, the Angel turns into a long sticky laser snake which Rei tries to shoot with her giant robot sniper rifle. This is not effective and the Angel begins to burrow under the EVA's armour to the fleshy bits underneath and shit gets veiny.

In the NERV command centre someone talks about the Angel trying to make first psychological contact and you can't keep saying that, this is the fourth time AT LEAST we've seen an Angel try to do weird brain reading with one of the kids so this is at least fourth contact. We are all operating on the assumption the Angels are ... some kind of unified force or being or ... something, right? Like, they're all on the same ... side? Part of the same force? If they're all independent and unrelated monsters of the week, NERV makes even less sense.

So, so, so Rei's EVA gets veiny and Rei gets veiny and Asuka is given orders to provide backup and then when her EVA is on the surface she and it just ... stand. Asuka tries to make it move but nothing happens. Finally, NERV lowers the EVA elevator again.

Gendo remembers he has a son and Shinji is deployed in Asuka's place to rescue Rei from the veins and not only does Asuka have to deal with her failure to pilot the robot in this moment, but she's filled with sad jealousy that Shinji wasn't sent to help her last week. Oh, honey.

So the light tentacle snake is making the veins and probing Rei and her memories and the EVA and like with the other kids, Rei confronts herself. One Rei is waist deep in the orange tang of the sub sub sub basement ocean while the other Rei floats above the surface. Rei is lonely? Or, one Rei is lonely, while the other Rei tries to express that Rei is lonely because unlike Rei, who is surrounded by others, Rei is by herself. One Rei knows more than the other, one Rei emotes more than the other. I am confused. None of the Reis seem as distressed as Shinji or Asuka did when they were getting psychoanalyzed by an Angel, at least. There's a weird shot that's just on one of the Rei's mouths, smiling and getting distended and wavey and also a Rei has a vision of smiling, glasses-free Gendo. Rei in the EVA comes back to herself when she realizes she's crying but the Angel is still doing its vein attack and all that pulsating Akira flesh starts happening and the light snake shoots out to Shinji, which is bad. There's more pulsating Akira flesh, just overflowing masses of veins bursting up and above the EVA, trying to shape something, the torso of Rei's EVA bulges out into, like, an armoured pocketed dome ball, which seems bad.

Then the light snake attacking Shinji turns into a giant naked Rei with a strange nightmare face who tries to make out with the EVA even though thankfully we at least have been spared horrible human lips to go with the horrible human teeth and fingers we know are in it.

Rei is like, do I want to become one with Shinji so I'm not lonely anymore? Is that what laser snake is trying to tell me and I just don't even know where to begin with all of this, where are you even getting this stuff Rei?

Rei realizes that letting the Angel snake made of light that looks like a giant her make out with Shinji's EVA is not the answer to her existential crisis and exerts her will over it or ... something? I don't know, she makes it like a rubber band that's suddenly reached its end. SNAP goes the light tether between giant naked Rei and Rei's EVA and it whips away from Shinji and the nightmare Rei's light face looks upset by these developments before it's like SCHWOOM back into the EVA ... ... and all the pulsating flesh becomes unpulsating and the dome stomach bits get popped like each segment of the dome is a bubble wrap bubble and then Rei blows herself and the EVA and I guess also the Angel up and I guess it's more effective than guns.

The obelisks want to interrogate someone, Gendo and Number 2 are already dealing with the fact that Rei is dead and just have some really weird conversation in front of machinery about how Rei is all of Number 2's sins and all of Gendo's hopes or ... or something? The obelisks go through a powerpoint of all the Angels defeated so far and I GUESS the kids have been fighting Angels that are all listed in the Dead Sea Scrolls and according to the Dead Sea Scrolls there's only one Angel left which, sure, we're on episode 23 of 26.

Shinji's lying on his bed not listening to music (music is playing but he doesn't have the headphones in) and Misato comes in to try and talk to him about how Rei killed herself to save Shinji. Shinji talks about sadness that's so intense even when tears can't come ... There's no time in this episode to dwell on this honest, awkward little pebble of grief, though. Misato tries to take Shinji's hand to comfort him but that isn't what he needs, he just wants to be alone and rejects Misato's overture.

Misato wonders about whether Shinji has a fear of women (what?) or intimacy (huh?) but when even Penpen refuses to be company for her, she realizes maybe she was projecting her own issues onto Shinji which hey, good catch, Misato! You and Shinji are similar but not the same.

ANYWAY NO TIME FOR THAT BECAUSE REI IS DEFINITELY MIRACULOUSLY ALIVE AND NOT DEAD even though Ritsuko and a bunch of dudes in HAZMAT suits were going over the spot where the EVA blew up and Ritsuko found something that had her going WELL THIS IS SOME X-FILES SHIT.

Shinji goes to see Rei at the hospital where she is bandaged all to hell and staring vaguely at nothing in the hall and he tries to thank her for her exploding sacrifice on his behalf. Rei basically says you're welcome but I have no idea what you're talking about. Shinji doesn't make much headway in expressing his gratitude further because Rei just straight up says I probably don't know what you're talking about because I'm the third Rei. Just straight up 'oh if I seem weird it's probably because I'm clones'.

It's not that Rei is clones that is surprising, it's just the total nonchalance with which Rei drops 'I guess I'm clones' on Shinji.

SO ANYWAY THE OBELISKS ARE INTERROGATING A NAKED RITSUKO BECAUSE GENDO WON'T LET THEM INTERROGATE REI AND HE'S JUST LIKE HEY THIS SCIENTIST WILL SPEAK ON HER BEHALF AND ALSO SHE'S NAKED but who knows who had the bright idea of naked interrogation. Maybe it was Ritsuko. Say a brief, silent prayer of thanks that there's no naked Gendo interrogation because if there is one thing I have learned so far in Evangelion, it's that the more of Gendo I can see, the more distressed I am.

I DON'T EVEN ENTIRELY KNOW WHAT THE OBELISKS ARE ASKING RITSUKO ABOUT.

Rei goes to her apartment and removes all her bandages and she's fine because she's clones so sure, all the bandages were for show. This Rei sees Gendo's old glasses and picks them up and starts to try and crush them in her hands but also she's crying? Reis is conflicted?

Misato's found a datachip that fuckin' Kaji hid in a pill and she's listening to another recording which is maybe all the stuff he learned while spying on NERV I don't know I don't know I don't know anything at this point.

Ritsuko calls Shinji and tells him he's temporarily not being monitored so he ... look, narrative cohesion and scene transitions are a thing of the past, we don't even have glue between disconnected bits anymore. RITSUKO TALKS TO SHINJI ON THE PHONE.

Then Ritsuko is ... somewhere ... work ... I DON'T KNOW MISATO IS BEHIND HER WITH A GUN AND THEN RITSUKO'S LIKE OKAY I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING BUT SHINJI IS HERE SO WE HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO HIM TOO and it's like just flip on the lights in this one spot and bam there's Shinji NO TIME. ELEVATOR. DOWN DOWN DOWN. DOWN DOWN DOWN. THIS SUBBASEMENT LOOKS LIKE REI'S APARTMENT. BECAUSE IT IS REI'S APARTMENT. WATER MEMORIES. LOOK THIS ISN'T WHAT MISATO IS HERE FOR, MISATO IS HERE FOR THE GIANT SEPHIROTH AND KABALLAH AND CROSS HOLLOWS FULL OF GIANT BONES. EVA skulls and bones and Ritsuko's just like yeah those are all the prototypes from ten years ago that didn't become murder robots piloted by teens we just keep them in these religious pattern caves to form the basis for some real gothy jigsaw puzzles. Oh PS Shinji if you find it familiar it's because you've been here before even if you don't remember it this is where the experiments that kill disappeared your mother went down. NO TIME FOR ANYONE TO REACT TO THIS.

LOOK I'M SURE IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING THIS AND YOU KNOW THE SERIES YOU ARE LIKE RITSUKO AND ARE LIKE GET ON WITH IT JUST GET US TO THE CHAMBER WHICH RITSUKO SAYS IS WHERE THE DUMMY PLUGS ARE MADE AND THEN SHE TURNS ON THE LIGHTS AND WELCOME TO THE NIGHTMARE AQUARIUM. THE ONLY EXHIBIT IN THE NIGHTMARE AQUARIUM ARE REI CLONES SMILING AND GIGGLING AT YOU FROM THEIR ORANGE TANG HABITAT. Ritsuko says the captive Reis have no souls, they're just vacant flesh in the shape of a human, there's only one Rei /personality/ which is the first Rei and I guess when she dies they take another one out of the tank and she becomes the Rei with the soul I DON'T KNOW. Ritsuko hates the Reis not because they are the result of some human science meddling in things they cannot understand or control but because somehow the existence of the Reis mean ... Gendo doesn't need her?

BECAUSE RITSUKO, LIKE HER MOTHER BEFORE HER, ALSO WANTS TO BONE DOWN ON THE MAN WHO IS HATE'S SKELETON, WITH MARROW OF PARENTAL NEGLIGENCE, AND A BLACKHOLE SUCKING HIS FLESH ILLUSION EVER INWARDS TO DARKNESS.

NOW IT IS TIME FOR RITSUKO TO TURN OFF THE TANG AQUARIUM LIFE SUPPORT AND ALL THE GIGGLING REIS BEGIN TO BREAK APART, GIGGLING AS THEIR LIMBS SEPARATE AND THEIR ENTRAILS SPILL OUT AND ALL IS DARKNESS BUT THEY'RE STILL GIGGLING AND HOW ARE ANY OF US SUPPOSED TO RESPOND TO THIS?! Oh, and the obelisks' plan for the destruction of Tokyo-3 is proceeding on schedule WHAT WAIT WHAT I THOUGHT WE WERE TRYING TO PROTECT TOKYO-3 no wonder Misato drinks. No wonder /you/ drink. This concludes my report on Episode 23 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Edit: the obelisks talk about having lost the spear of Longinus. It's on the moon, obelisks. You're welcome.

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

Daylight | Edward Cullen x Stark!OC

Chapter 2 | Invisible String 

"You gotta step into the daylight and let it go"

Summary: Delphina Stark, to be frank, is tired. After the events of the Accords are done and half of the Avengers are now considered fugitives, she moves from bustling New York to live with her mom in Forks, Washington. Wielding a sarcastic attitude and crippling self-deprecating humor, she somehow gets wrapped up in the supernatural world.

Word Count: ~3k

Note: Click here for the Masterlist for this series ♡ || Link for my tag list in my Bio ♡

   “So, how are you enjoying the school so far?” The voice on the other side of the phone trickles into Delphina’s ear. It’s honey-sweet and wrapped with a warmth that could only belong to Pepper Potts, quelling the homesickness that’s been crescendoing since she stepped on the plane. It’s lunch period and instead of sitting at one of the tables, getting claustrophobic from everyone staring at her like it’s the circus and she’s the newest act, Delphina opted to call a few people, Pepper being at the top of that list.

   “Oh you know, I’ve already texted my mom on five separate occasions begging to be home schooled.” Delphina says.

   “And?”

   “And I received a veto all five times,” Delphina says, a small smile on her lips. Laughter trickles from the speaker into her ears, bringing a smile to Delphina’s face. She can perfectly imagine Pepper’s face right now. The way her face scrunches up, perfectly straight posture bent over slightly, and the small lines that form around her eyes when she smiles. And instead of soothing her homesickness, it ignites it, like a flickering flame being doused in oil. The easy banter and relaxed feeling another reminder of how much she misses New York.

   “Well, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Pepper trails off, her voice raising an octave, the statement sounding more like a question.

   “Oh, I’m not concerned. When she gets home from work I’m going to ambush her with a PowerPoint presentation and everything.” Delphina says, breathing out a laugh at her own joke. “But in reality, it’s not… the worst, I guess. No one has tried to kill me yet, so there’s that.”

   “That’s good, and hopefully the bare minimum for your expectations.”

   “Don’t worry Peps, my standards are always low, keeps me from being disappointed in anything,” she says. Turning around and glancing at the clock, it reads 12:45, fifteen minutes until lunch ends and class begins.

   “I’ve got to go, my next class starts soon. I’ll talk to you later and tell dad that my plans for overthrowing the patriarchy are currently in phase one. Love you!” she says, walking towards the cafeteria entrance, bag swinging with each step and tapping against her side.  

   “Will do. I love you too.” Pepper says, laughter lacing each word. And with that, the line goes silent as the call disconnects. With a sigh, Delphina pulls the phone away from her ear and back into her pocket. Opening the door, the loud talking assaults her ears, quickly overcoming the semi-peace that covers the outside like a thick wool blanket.

   To her left, there’s a table of obnoxiously attractive people, and hidden in the midst of them is the guy from her Biology class. There’s three guys and two girls, all wearing nice clothes with perfectly styled hair. Matching amber eyes pin on her like a cat pouncing on a mouse, none of them so much as blinking when Delphina meets their gazes.

   “Family genes are weird,” she mutters to herself, snapping her gaze away and continuing forward, towards the loudest table in the room, where Bella and all her friends sit at. But before she gets too far away, Delphina swears she hears someone chuckle from the other table. She returns her attention to them, seeing the guy from Biology smirking as he looks at Delphina, amusement dancing in his eyes. She flashes him a quick smile, taking notice of the scowl the blonde woman presents in return.

   “New York, New York! How gracious of you to well… grace us with your presence.” Mike calls out upon noticing her.

   “I have a name you know,” she mutters, pulling out the chair by Bella with more force than necessary.

   “I know, but it’s kind of hard to remember,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck with his brows furrowed.

   “It’s Delphina, Mike, not that hard.” Angela pipes up, flashing a quick grin towards Delphina, which she quickly returns.

   “Whatever doesn’t matter. Back to what I was originally going to say, how you liking Forks so far?” he questions, moving from his seat across the table so he is standing by Delphina.

   “It’s cold,” she grumbles, not meeting his gaze as she pulls out her phone.

   “W - yeah. Look, I know we’re not big city New York --” Delphina hums in agreement. “But I’d say we’re alright.” he finishes.

   “How long did you practice that one in front of the mirror?” Delphina asks after a moment, moving her eyes from her screen to meet Mike’s. He promptly begins stuttering, face heating up rapidly that longer Delphina stares at him.

“I’d say about 20 minutes, heard him in the bathroom practicing everything he was going to say,” a guy teases, moving behind Delphina like that air. She turns to see Tyler, smirking at Mike before he turns to Delphina, throwing her a wink. And as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone, Mike nearly falling out of his chair as he chases after Tyler.  

“Get back here, Tyler!” he yells, nearly tripping at least a dozen times, Tyler just laughs as he runs, effortlessly avoiding Mike. “Not cool, man. Not cool!’

Delphina raises a single brow, her face void of any amusement as they run through the room, Mike screaming like a banshee and Tyler cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West.

   “But I do have a question.” she turns her attention to the rest of the table, mainly focusing on Jessica, since she seems to be in the center of all the gossip. “Who are they?” she nods her head in the general direction of the group of gorgeous people. From the way Jessica’s face lights up and a giddy smile overtakes her face, Delphina knows Jessica is the right person to ask.

   “Those are the Cullens. Their dad, Dr. Cullen, and his wife Esme adopted them. The two blondes are Jasper and Rosalie Hale, they’re twins. The big guy by Rosalie is Emmett. They like...a thing.” This causes Delphina to raise a brow, but she doesn’t interject. “The other girl is Alice, she’s kinda weird, her and Jasper are a thing. And then lastly there’s Edward, incredibly single and gorgeous, but apparently too good for anyone here.” she finishes, her tone bitter like espresso at that end.

   “Cool,” Delphina says, nodding her head and then focusing on her phone again. “So if only two of them are blood-related, why do they all look alike?”

   Jessica opens her mouth and then closes it again, like a fish fresh out of water she’s squirming from uncertainly. Before anyone else can say anything, however, Eric interrupts them, claiming the chair between Angela and Delphina.

   “Hate to interrupt, but Delphina, I’ve been dying to talk to you all day. I don’t want to spend this precious time on the Cullens. As you probably already know, I’m with the school newspaper, and as the new student - no - as the new student and daughter of Tony Stark you’re the feature, which means I need dirt.” he says, looking at Delphina with puppy dog eyes and a hopeful smile.

   “If you need dirt, there’s some outside,” she replies, pointing her perfectly manicured finger towards the building exit.

   “You know that’s not what I meant. We can delve into whatever you want: favorite color, check; childhood trauma, also check. I mean, you were in Stark Tower when Loki attacked in 2011 weren’t you? Come on, Del, you’ve got to give me something-- anything, please!” Eric pleads, holding his hands into a prayer symbol.

   “Eric, I really don’t think she wants to be on the paper,” Bella speaks up, cutting him off before he can continue talking.

   “Yeah, not really my thing. Me and the press don’t get along.” Delphina mutters, checking the time.

   12:56.

   “What does that even mean?” Jessica asks, taking a bite out of her salad.

   “It means, I spent most of my time in New York with Natasha Romanoff.” Delphina says as she shoves her phone in her pants pocket and stands up from her seat.

   “Black Widow!?” Eric exclaims, eye lighting up with excitement. Delphina nods her head, grabbing her backpack, throwing its strap over her shoulder

   “And if you remember, a few years ago, she told the media and news to kiss her ass. Take that as you will.” And with that she walks away from the table, a smirk on her lips.

   “Oh, and it’s pink, but only in pastel,” Delphina calls behind her, long out of hearing range before anyone has a chance to reply.

                                                   o0o0o0o

   The classroom is relatively empty when Delphina manages to slip in. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair and a pallid complexion is sitting at a desk, intently focusing on some papers. A few students litter the room, sitting at tables that fit two people per desk, making idle chat before the bell rings to signify the start of class. Eyes flicker immediately to the guy from her Biology class with the messy copper hair and honey eyes. He’s sat in the farthest corner, not looking at anyone as he focuses on his notebook.

   Delphina approaches the teacher’s desk, gaining the woman, Mrs. Davis’ attention. She glances up at Delphina and then back to the paper in her bony fingers, and with lightning-fast speed, back up to Delphina. She clumsily stands from her chair, nearly knocking over her desk in the process. She thrusts her out towards Delphina, a nervous smile pulling at her lips that are painted with bright coral lipstick.

   “You must be Delphina Stark, welcome to History II, I’m your teacher Mrs. Davis, but I think you already knew that.” she chuckles nervously. Delphina slowly takes her hand, giving it a quick shake before dropping it.

   “That’s me,” she mutters, handing the teacher the paper she needs signing. She snatches the paper from her hands, Mrs. Davis vigorously signing it, handing it paper a second later    

   “You’ll be down there, by Edward.” with a quick nod, Delphina turns to go to her chair. She quickly reaches the desk and sits down, tossing her bag on the ground beside her. She turns to look at Edward, who is still intently focusing on his notebook.

   “Looks like I can’t get away from you. Or is it the other way around?” A moment of silence passes. A small sigh leaves her mouth as she begins mindlessly scrolling through her phone, more students filtering into the room.

   Ring.

   The bell pierces through all the noise, indicating that class has officially begun. Delphina slides her phone into her pocket, attempting to appear interested.

   “Sit down, Jeremy.” Mrs. Davis scolds one of the rowdy students in the room, a football player she’s seen hanging around school. Mrs. Davis moves from behind her desk towards the center of the room. “Today, we’ll be covering World War II, but before we jump into today’s lesson, we have a new student today.” Mrs. Davis says, pointing back towards where Delphina is sitting. “Delphina Stark.” All at once, everyone in the class turns to look at Delphina, whispering to one another as their eyes lock on her.

   She offers a pathetic wave, sinking into her chair, in hopes that the floor would swallow her whole. And whatever god is out there seems to have at least a small amount of empathy, because a moment later, everyone looks back at the teacher.

   “Since we are starting a new chapter, that also means a new assignment.” a few of the students groan, but Mrs. Davis pays them no mind. “Turn to the person at the table next to you, get a good look at them, because that is your partner for this coming project on World War II. This assignment counts for half of your semester grade, so I recommend you make the best with what you have. We’ll be going over the specifics tomorrow, but today turn to Chapter 23 in your book and start chatting with your partners.” Mrs. Davis says, finishing her announcement and moving back to her desk.

   Delphina flips open her book to Chapter 23 and turns to Edward. His gaze is already transfixed on her, no book in front of him, just a notebook and pen.

   “Mind if we share?” he asks, voice smooth like honey and as sweet as a mid summer strawberry, his lips pulling into a crooked grin.

   “Oh, now he wants to talk to me.” Raising a perfectly shaped brow at him, her eyes narrow slightly. “But sure, what’s mine is… well still mine, but I’ll let you read it too.” Hand on the side of the book, she pushes it closer to him. A faint chuckle leaves his mouth, the sound like soft bells ringing in Delphina’s ears. And she hates how much she wants to hear it again, and again, and again.

   “I'd like to apologize, actually, for how I acted earlier. It was rude of me to ignore you like that,” he says.

   “Please, I lived in the same building as Loki at one point. I don’t think anyone could top that maniac,” she says, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. He breathes out a laugh, the quiet flick of the thin paper clashing with the melodic sound.

   “But I accept your apology.”  

   “Didn’t he attack New York?” Edward asks, eyes solely on Delphina, paying no mind to the book they should be reading.

   “Oh yeah, I swear my mom nearly killed my dad when Loki attacked Stark Towers. It was kind of funny actually.” After pausing for a moment, she opens her mouth again. “Well, after I got over the trauma of the whole building almost collapsing on top of me, of course.”

   “I’ll take your word for it,” he says, the grin on his face growing ever so slightly and Delphina’s heart nearly stops in that moment

  ‘Keep it together, you idiot.’

  “You never did introduce yourself,” the teasing tone in her voice is the perfect match to the glint of mischief in her eyes. She nudges him lightly with her elbow, feeling nothing but skin that’s like cold marble and chilling to the bone.

   “Apologies, I’m Edward Cullen.”

   “Delphina Stark, but I’m sure you already knew that,” she says, rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

   “There has been talk around the school.” He reflects the smirk on her face like a mirror.

   “Great, love that for me so much.”

   “You don’t like the attention?” he asks, the laugh in his voice betraying that he already knows the answer.

   “No, despite what people think, us Starks aren’t vying for attention everywhere we go,” she mutters, glancing down at the page for a split second, if only to say she did look at their chapter.

   “So why move to a town as small as Forks, where everyone is going to talk?” he asks.

   Flick, another page turns, nearly tearing from the speed.

   “Well, it wasn’t my first choice, but my mom lives here, so here I am.” Anxiety creeps into her system, increasing each second that Edward continues to look at her, flashes of sitting in the Compound surrounded by deafening silence overwhelming, beating against her like a baseball bat hits a ball in the Big Leagues.

   “Well, let me be the first to formally welcome you to Forks.” The words are playful and light, and Delphina can’t help but lean into them, falling deeper and deeper into the haze hanging over her each time he opens his mouth. She smiles at him, pushing away the Avengers and just focusing on the sound of his laugh and the intoxicating smell of his cologne, a woody scent that feels like the best parts of nature.

   “Well, you’ve already been beat there, but thank you.”

   “I couldn’t help but notice that Mike Newton has taken an interest in you.” he says after a moment, containing his laughter long enough to speak smoothly. Delphina scoffs and rolls her eyes.

   “Yeah, wish he wouldn’t. He might be nice, or whatever, but I have a strict ‘no dating anyone that calls me a nickname based solely on where I moved from’ policy.”

   “That’s oddly specific,” Edward says. Delphina just shrugs, a smirk pulling on her lips.

   “But effective.”

   “Don’t you want to make friends?” he asks, moving his eyes away from Delphina for a second to look around the room, the other students too engrossed in their own conversations to notice them.

   “I don’t need friends, they disappoint me,” Delphina says without a moment of hesitation, quoting the iconic Vine like she’s drinking water or breathing air.

For a moment it brings her back to the Compound, before everything with Ultron happened, setting the scene for the Accords. Delphina would make obscure references to Vines or memes that were popular at the time, most of the Avengers wouldn’t understand them, Thor least of all. But he laughed at every single one anyways. Steve would shake his head and mutter something about kids these days, only giving Delphina more ammo to tease him with. As soon as the memories enter her mind, weaving through every thought until it’s all she can think about, she banishes them, refusing to fall into that melancholy.

Then, Edward laughs, not a breathy sound or a small chuckle that Delphina nearly misses, it’s not booming like Thor’s, the kind of noise you make when you don’t understand a joke. But a loud one, a genuine one that leaves his eyes looking like small crescent moons, lighting up Delphina’s dark skies. And she doesn’t think what she said is that funny, nor her wittiest line ever, but maybe it’ll become her one liner for the next lifetime, using it at every opportunity. If only to hear Edward laugh like that again.

She places her elbow on the desk, leaning her chin against it as a starry smile forms on her face, memorizing everything about this moment, the small crinkles around his eyes, the way his eyes shine, and the bright smile on his face. If only to remember back on it late at night when she inevitably has trouble sleeping.

“Should I then assume that means you wouldn’t like to be friends?”

“I can have one.”

                                                 o0o0o0o

Tags: 

@stuckupstucky 

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Feeling stupid

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~2.5k

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Masterlist

Chapter 5: The F

After their sleepover, the tight knit group of friends grew even closer.

But they still didn’t tell each other everything. None of them knew that Patton was starting to struggle with his grades. He had an A in ASL, but his other grades were slowly starting to slip.

“Is there something going on at home?” Mrs. Calypso asked after she’d pulled him aside after school one day. “If it’s about the move, that’s okay. Transitioning to a new place can take a long time.”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Patton said, eyes glued to the ground as he struggled not to cry. “I just...I’m not understanding.”

“Why don’t you talk to Principal Sanders?” She asked, crouching just enough to see Patton’s eyes. “He can get you a tutor.”

Patton shoved his glasses up in his hair so he could wipe his eyes. “I don’t need a tutor.”

“If you want, I can try to explain a few concepts after school tomorrow.” She offered. “Think about it, okay?”

As soon as Mrs. Calypso was gone, Virgil rushed over. “Is everything alright?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Patton said, voice trembling ever so slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Virgil opened his arms and Patton dove into them, squeezing him tightly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before Patton blurted out, “I’m not doing very well in class. I don’t understand what the teachers are talking about half the time and it’s hard for me to learn from just the Powerpoints.”

“Maybe I can help?” Virgil asked, waving at their dad as he pulled up.

“We can try.”

Once they’d gotten home and had a quick snack, the two of them jumped into their homework. Virgil did his best to explain the concepts, but Patton wasn’t understanding them at all. Emile jumped in to help as well, but he just made it worse.

“I don’t get it!” Patton shoved back from the kitchen table, darting up to his room and closing the door.

Emile and Virgil could hear his sobs carry down the stairs.

Neither of them saw Patton again until the next morning when he came downstairs for breakfast. He looked a little more like Virgil this morning with the dark circles under his eyes. Virgil covered them with black eyeshadow so he could call it fashion, but Patton didn’t seem to care.

“Pat, are you okay?” Virgil asked, handing his brother a plate.

Patton took the plate, setting it off to the side. “I’m not hungry.”

“Just take some food with you then, in case you get hungry later.” Emile started packing up some tupperware.

Patton nodded, the usual pep in his step completely gone. By the time they arrived at school, he had a fake smile on his face.

“Bye.”

“Have a good day!” Emile called, just getting the sentence out of his mouth before Patton’s door closed.

Virgil scrambled to catch up to Patton, who was heading straight for his locker. “I can talk to Mrs. Calypso if you want.”

“She already offered to help.” Unzipping his backpack, Patton started placing books in his locker. “I’m gonna take her up on it and stay after school. Is that okay?”

“Pat, it’s fine.” Virgil bumped their shoulders together. “I’m going straight home anyway.”

Giving his twin a nod, Patton headed off to class. Virgil put the rest of his stuff in his locker, jumping when someone practically appeared next to him.

“What’s wrong with Patton?” Ted asked as he leaned against the lockers. “He just seems...off.”

“Bad day.”

“Gotcha.” A few kids down the hall called Ted’s name. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll let my mom know that Patton’s having a hard time. She’ll be over later with muffins or something.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No prob. Besides, what are neighbors for if not to be nosy?”

Ted left to be with his friends. Virgil grabbed what he needed, before heading to science. He debated talking to Mrs. Calypso about Patton’s problem, but he knew that Patton would want to talk to her himself.

Instead, he took his seat next to Logan and pulled out their homework.

“I saw you arrive this morning.” Logan tapped his pencil on the table. “Patton looked upset.”

“There’s a whole thing.” Virgil started scribbling down a few notes on the board. “If he wants to tell you about it at lunch he can.”

Virgil was beyond thankful that Logan let the matter drop. Part of it was due to the fact that the bell rang and class started, but Logan seemed like the type to let things be. He could only hope that Roman was the same way.

He quickly found out at lunch that he was wrong.

“Pat, are you okay?” Roman asked the second he sat down, making Virgil and Logan exchange looks. “You looked really upset this morning.”

Patton seemed to sense that Virgil was about to fix Roman with a glare. He waved Virgil down, shaking his head. “I’ve just been...struggling a bit. Academically.”

Logan’s eyes snapped up. “I could assist you if you’d like.”

“Lo, that’s nice but I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to ask.” Logan stuck a bookmark in his book and set it down. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t I want to help you achieve academic prowess?”

“Have you been reading the dictionary again?”

There was a thunk as Logan kicked his brother under the table. “I can help you tonight if you want.”

“Sure!”

Virgil was a little more than relieved to see a little of Patton’s pep return. “I thought you were staying after with Mrs. Calypso?”

Patton shrugged, twirling some pasta around his fork. “I think I’d understand it more coming from a fellow student. But I’ll let her know before I head to gym.”

When the final bell had rung, Patton headed outside, looking for Logan. His red hair stood out like a beacon in the sea of students rushing to head home.

“Where’s Roman?”

“Heading to a friend’s house.” Logan toward the line of cars. “My dad’s here.”

Mr. Sanders waved from his convertible, shades on his face. The boys jumped in the car, buckling up immediately.

Patton just stopped himself from letting out a shriek as Mr. Sanders peeled off from the line of cars, earning a few honks in the process. He ignored them, stretching one arm above his head.

“How was school?” He asked, sounding too nonchalant for someone who was weaving their way through traffic.

“I received an A on my paper for English.”

“Knew you would.” Though he couldn’t see Mr. Sanders’s eyes, he could feel the gaze moving to him. “Pat? What about you?”

“Okay, I guess.” Patton ran a finger along his seatbelt. “My ASL teacher says I’ve been improving a lot.”

Remy smiled at Patton in the mirror. “That’s great! Gotta celebrate the little accomplishments as much as the big ones.”

They got home much faster than they should’ve, heading in through the garage. Remy left them to their devices, heading into the living room.

Logan headed to the fridge immediately, pulling out some apples and a fruit dip. “Snack first. It’s harder to do homework if you’re hungry. I did a small study on that, using Roman as a subject.”

“Did he know you were doing that?” Patton grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and started spooning some dip onto a couple paper plates.

“...no.”

“Logan!”

“It was a small experiment!”

Patton shook his head, giving him what everyone had dubbed his ‘Dad Look’. “Consent is important for a lot of things. One thing being experiments.”

“You’re right.” Logan scraped a few apple slices onto Patton’s plate. “I’ll inform him about any future experiments that involve him.”

“And?”

“And I’ll let him know about the past experiments I’ve used him for.” Logan swirled an apple in the fruit dip before taking a bite. “This dip is so freaking good.”

“I’ve got a homemade one that tastes even better.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “You’re making that next time you come over.”

“Deal.” Patton reached into his backpack, pulling out his science textbook. “So I just can’t understand the nervous system or how the brain works.”

Taking their plates, Logan tossed them in the garbage. “Let’s get to work.”

The two of them worked hard for the next hour.

Unfortunately, Patton still wasn’t understanding, and Logan was starting to get frustrated.

“It’s simple, really.” Logan said at the end of another long explanation.

Patton bit his lip. “I still don’t get it.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” 

Logan did his best to not let his frustration show, but Patton could see it clear as day.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked on the words. Logan looked at him, eyes wide. Before he could say anything, the front door opened and Roman entered.

“Oh, hey Pa- what’s wrong?”

Tears slipped out of Patton’s eyes. “I don’t get what we’re doing still, and I know Logan’s frustrated that he can’t help me, and I just...I don’t wanna fail.”

“I could show you how I figured it out.”

Logan face palmed. “How did I not think of that before? You and Roman are much more like minded. I’m sure he’ll be able to explain everything in a way that makes sense to you.”

Seeing how apprehensive was, Roman swooped in next to him. “Let me try at least? And if you don’t get it, I’ll come with you to talk to Mrs. Calypso.”

“Okay.”

Roman was a much more suitable teacher to Patton than Logan had been. He knew that while Logan and Virgil tended to think more logically, he and Patton thought more creatively.

“The dendrites?” Roman asked an hour later, quizzing Patton on what he’d learned.

Patton wiggled his fingers, remembering what Roman had told him. “Branches of the nerve cells. They give messages to the cell body.”

“Correct!”

After writing down the answer on his worksheet, Patton grinned at Roman. “Thank you so much!”

“There’s the smile we know and love.” Roman smiled back, suddenly finding himself with an armful of Patton. “You staying for dinner?”

“I could, let me text my dad.”

“No worries, he already said it was okay.” Mr. Sanders said as he walked into the kitchen. “We’re making sandwiches tonight, but I have peanut butter and jelly if you’d prefer that.”

“I’m good with whatever.”

Patton gathered his schoolwork. He put it away while the Sanders started pulling various ingredients out of the fridge. There was crinkling as Roman popped open a bag of chips.

“Where’s your brother tonight?” Mr. Sanders asked, slicing open some rolls.

“At home with dad.”

Mr. Sanders pulled out his phone. “Emile! Why don’t you come over and have dinner with us again. We’ve already got a third of your family anyway. We’re having club sandwiches.”

Patton couldn’t make out what his dad was saying on the other end, but it must’ve been agreement.

“They’ll be here in just a little bit.” Mr. Sanders slid his phone back into his pocket. “Pat, are you good at slicing?”

“I’ll do it!” Roman said quickly, taking the knife from his dad.

“Roman, that was rude.”

Patton laughed. “Roman’s seen me in gym class. It’s probably safer that he does it.”

“You’ve gotten a lot better though.” Roman effortly sliced through the tomato as he spoke. “When you first got here, you were...not hopeless but it took some work.And now you’re one of the best in the class. A little hard work goes a long way.”

“Well, I think this calls for a celebration.” Remy said.

The Sanders boys snapped their heads up. “Sundaes?!”

“Sundaes.”

A cheer rang out from everyone, including Patton. He didn’t know what was so special about sundaes, but he loved ice cream.

It wasn’t long before Emile was over with Virgil in tow. Or rather, Virgil with Emile in tow. Virgil ran straight into the house, talking to Roman about a new Disney movie that had been announced in the last hour.

Emile was a little slower, still unsure about Remy.

“You know, Roman helped Patton figure out what was troubling him.” Remy said as he came over to help Emile with his jacket.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Emile handed over his jacket, lining up his shoes in the hall. “Patton fretted over that all night. Virgil and I did our best to help.”

“So you were hanging over their shoulders?”

Emile sighed. “Remy -”

“Please, let me explain.” Receiving a nod from Emile, Remy continued. “I know that you’re more of a hover-y parent and I’m more of a give them space parent. I think we have a lot to learn from each other. One example being that you should’ve let them try to figure it out on their own. Patton probably felt a lot of pressure to figure it out knowing that you were in the room.”

Emile opened his mouth to respond before closing it with a click.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Emile ran a hand through his hair. “And you’re right about us learning from each other. Though that goes both ways.”

“Yes, sir.” Remy teased before they both headed back into the kitchen.

The boys grabbed their food and headed to the living room, sitting around the coffee table.

“About time our dads got along.” Roman said, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

Patton nodded. “All of us are different, but we figured it out.”

“Ya.” Getting a look from Logan, Roman swallowed his food before he continued. “Virgil and I are super opposite. If you hadn’t played mediator at first Pat, we probably would’ve been fighting this whole time.”

Virgil nodded. “True that.”

Remy leaned out of the kitchen, peeking in on the boys. “I’m glad they found each other. For a while I was worried that Logan was never going to have any friends besides Roman.”

“Virgil said that Logan is a big help.” Emile leaned against the counter. “He told me that Logan did a bunch of research on anxiety disorders so that he knew what to do if Virgil had an attack.”

“Oh yeah, he was letting me and Roman know what to do too. Kid’s a natural born teacher.”

Emile crunched down on a chip. “You listened?”

“Hey! I know I seem like an asshole, but that’s only sometimes.” Remy grabbed a few glasses out of the cupboard. “Want anything?”

“Water’s fine.”

The ice clinked into their cups. “I figured if your kid is going to be over a lot that I should know what to do too. In case he stays back when Roman wants to head to the park or something.”

“That’s...really nice of you.” Emile took his glass. “Thanks. A lot of parents in our old PTA didn’t seem to care that Virgil had anxiety.”

There was a flash of anger in Remy’s eyes. “Well that’s shitty of them.”

“Yeah.” Emile excused the swearing this one time. “It is.”

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)

A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(

spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu

words:3350

Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 

Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.

“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.

Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”

“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 

“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.

“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.

You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 

“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.

“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.

“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 

With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.

Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.

“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 

So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 

Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.

Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.

The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.

“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.

The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 

Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 

“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”

People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 

You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  

“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.

“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 

“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.

Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 

Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 

The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.

Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.

About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.

Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 

The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 

The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 

You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.

Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.

You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.

A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 

“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.

“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.

“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 

You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.

As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.

“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”

You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.

“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.

“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”

“Okay.”

All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.

You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.

“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”

[littles-demon]

HellhoundxTeacher

(The start of what will hopefully be a thread. If I happen to mess something up or anything like that please tell me, I am very new to this at the moment. Please comment your thoughts. Thank you for your patients.)

“Welcome to your new Mythology class, if by chance you aren’t supposed to be here leave now.” Professor Todoroki announced from the bottom floor of the elevated classroom. The seats were filled and he scanned the faces in the room quickly. 

“Remember this is college and I have only the highest expectations of you all…” He turned his back away from the class and walked to his podium, pulling up his syllabus and clearing his throat. The syllabus had been passed out by him at the beginning of the class to each student who dutifully responded with their name so he could get attendance done at the same time. 

“Now I am well aware that you all know how to read but for those of you who would much rather not…” He glanced around at the students who still had earbuds in. A guy with bright yellow hair and a black, what looked to be a, lightning bolt in it and a girl with bright flourishing pink hair. He shook his head. 

“I don’t tolerate tardiness, that goes for work and attendance. If you are late you will have missed class. The door will be locked promptly when class starts. I’m not here to babysit you. I get paid to teach, you’re here to learn. You decide not to pay attention, don't come crying to me.” He spoke swiftly and with diction making it clear he meant business. As he spoke he walked around the podium to the front of the large dark wood desk just below the projector screen, he leaned against and crossed his arms over his dress shirt and tie. 

He did one final scan of the room before announcing, “ That’s all for the day. Sign the syllabus and place it on my desk in an orderly style and be on your way. I’m here for any questions you may have.” He watched as some students took their pens/pencils out and scribbled their name and signature and he scoffed at the ones who didn’t even bring something to write with. Specifically the bright pink haired girl who had been insistently chewing bubble gum and didn’t miss a beat when it came time to pop the bubble she’d blown. 

Shoto watched as a young adult with wild green hair glanced around the room to see if anyone would stand first and turn in their paper. Anxiety ridden child. He made a mental note. Other students who didn’t want to stick around later than they needed to made quick work of getting out of their seats and making the pile. The yellow hair and pink hair leaned down one row to poke at a blonde that sat leaning back, they started talking about stuff that he couldn’t be bothered to strain his ears to hear. The look on the blondes face said annoyance but his body language had a calm demeanor. 

He wouldn’t admit it but when the green broccoli came and tapped him on the shoulder he had jumped a bit. He quickly regained himself and faced his new student. “Hello! My name is Izuku Midoriya. I was just wondering about some of the assignments on the syllabus, I noticed that some of them don’t have any due dates next to them and I wanted to ask if there was a reason behind that and I also would like to know about the grading system a bit more and how exactly are we going to be testing and what to expect from those tests. If you have study guides online that would be helpful or if you prefer that we take notes in class and study from those. Also do you post your power points to study from for every lecture?” 

“Hold on please, take a breath. I appreciate the enthusiasm but maybe it’s a bit much. Now I’ll answer these questions for now. Some of the assignments don’t have due dates yet because it will depend on how the class is progressing throughout the semester. The grading system is pretty straight forward, I require a B in my class to pass and be allowed to take Mythology 2. You will have one exam at the end of the semester but throughout the course we will have essays that I will grade as tests. I don’t post study guides but I do post the power points from my lectures. I prefer that you take notes in class about questions your peers ask and the answers I give or if I elaborate on a certain subject. As for study material it is all important you can just copy the notes from the powerpoint or print them on your own time.” Shoto took a deep breath and gave the kid a soft smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Did that help?” He pushed his glasses into his duel colored hair and looked a bit concerned he didn’t answer all of the questions thrown his way. 

Midoriya smiled wide and nodded frantically, “Yes! Thank you!” He nodded and bowed slightly to the professor before setting his syllabus in the stack of the others and bounced out the door. Todoroki looked after the broccoli for a second before directing his attention back to the group of three that had made themselves comfortable in his lecture hall.

“I have another class to prepare for…” He stated blandly. His duel colored eyes met with burning red ones. The look alone could’ve killed. It was almost like the teacher had disrespected the kid in some way. He stood his ground nonetheless, his chest automatically puffing out slightly. That seemed to only make the spikey blonde smirk in defiance. Something about him seemed…..off?

“Leave it Bakugo.” The female said, throwing a side glance in the teachers direction. She reached and tapped the arm of the lightning bolt kid and they both stood and began gathering their belongings. Bakugo, apparently, stayed in his inclined position. Only moving when the other two had finished packing their things and stood waiting. As they walked down the side steps to the desk the two didn’t spare the professor a glance.

Bakugo on the other hand stared him down all the way to the point of setting his paper down on the top of the stack. He then turned his back on Todoroki and walked to the door, in the doorway he turned halfway around and stuck his tongue out and scrunched his nose. He strode away with his friends immediately after. 

Todoroki couldn’t help but to stand there for a moment more and stare at where the boy had been, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked down at the stacks of paper. Silently he fixed them so they lay in a neat stack and put them in the far corner of the desk so they wouldn’t get mixed with the other classes. There on the top in neat perfect cursive was the signature. 

“Bakugo Katsuki?”

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 7

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 2,408 (Total Word Count: 17,418) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

Lance missed elementary school. Back in those days, the first day of the school year was fun. Not just because he and his classmates were not yet jaded toward the concept of school, but because the day was actually designed that way. The learning didn’t start until day two at the earliest; the first day was dedicated to icebreakers and exploring the classroom and the teacher pulling out every trick in the book to convince the students that this year was going to be this much fun every single day.

Now, though, the only way the first day of classes differed from the rest was that teachers took longer to take attendance and passed out the class syllabus before diving into textbook reading and PowerPoint presentations. Which meant that Lance had jumped straight from the relaxation of summer vacation to hours of biology, sociology, and the first half of his American literature class before the bell mercifully put it on pause for a half-hour lunch break.

“Lance,” Pidge cut him off in the middle of his groaning as he stood behind her in the cafeteria line. “For fuck’s sake, can’t we go one school year where you don’t do this?”

“No,” Lance said. “Pidge, I’m tiiiiiired.” He slumped down and rested his forehead on Pidge’s shoulder. “How many days left in the school year?”

“A hundred seventy-nine and a half,” Pidge answered, shrugging him off of her shoulder. “Get used to it.”

Lance groaned as he grabbed a tray and started down the serving line. At least the school served burgers and tater tots on the first day. They were fairly crappy burgers and tots, sure, but compared to many of the other cafeteria offerings throughout the year, they were pretty high up on his list of favorite school meals. “They could at least do a better job of, like, easing us in to school life,” he said as he picked up a paper-wrapped cheeseburger. “Maybe have a naptime for the first week, or start the first day at noon.”

“If it were up to you, every day of school would last half an hour and consist of four meal breaks.”

“Which is exactly why I should be in charge,” Lance said. He picked out a bottle of lemonade from the drink cooler and paused their conversation to let the cafeteria lady at the register punch in his purchases and give him the go-ahead. Once that was finished, he stood on tiptoes to look back at the rest of the line. “You seen Keith? He came out of class the same time we did, right?”

“Think so, yeah,” Pidge said. Her eyes were scanning the tables set up throughout the rest of the cafeteria. They always sat with Hunk, and he was always the first to the table, since he brought his lunch from home and didn’t have to wait in line with everyone else. One of the perks of his family owning a restaurant. “We could just sit down and wait for - oh, hey!” She nudged Lance with her elbow. “Looks like he’s already with Hunk!”

She pointed, and Lance looked to see Keith seated at a table, his back to them but his mullet unmistakeable. Hunk was sitting across from him, his meal spread out before him, and looked to be deep in conversation with Keith. “How the hell did he beat us here?” Lance asked. “Could swear we left the classroom before he did.”

“I dunno, maybe he walks faster?” Pidge said with a shrug, already starting toward the table. “Come on, my legs are tired.”

“Your legs are always tired,” Lance grunted, following after her.

Pidge reached the table first, sliding onto the bench next to Hunk and immediately turning her gaze to the contents of his lunch. “No,” Hunk said firmly to her as Lance settled in across from them.

“What?” Pidge looked up at him. “I didn’t even - ”

“You were about to ask for one of my cookies. I already told you this morning, no.”

“You have two of them!” Pidge whined. “You don’t need two cookies! You’re being selfish!”

“Isn’t… that a cookie?” Keith asked softly, pointing to Pidge’s tray.

“Ugh, yeah,” Pidge sighed, glaring down at the shortbread cookie in a little paper dish in the corner of her tray. “But it’s a shitty cafeteria cookie. Hunk gets homemade cookies.”

Hunk unwrapped the plastic wrap on one of the aforementioned cookies and popped a bite into his mouth. “If you want homemade cookies, make some at home.”

Pidge made a swipe for the cookie in Hunk’s hand, but Hunk easily avoided it, leaning back and taking another bite, topping it all off with exaggerated chewing sounds. Lance laughed and returned his attention to his own food. As he unwrapped his burger, he couldn’t help but notice that his was the only tray on this side of the table. He turned toward Keith with a raised brow. Keith had set his stack of books and supplies on the table in front of him, but there was no lunch in sight. Frowning, Lance tapped the table in front of Keith. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up with you?”

Keith just blinked at him.

Lance gestured to the small stack of books as he took a bite and asked through a mouthful of cheeseburger, “You planning on eating your notebooks or something?”

Keith wrinkled his brow. “What?”

“Why didn’t you get your lunch?”

“Oh.” Keith shrugged. “I’m saving mine for later.”

Lance swallowed and tilted his head. “Dude, what are you talking about? They’re not going to save your food for later; we only get the one lunch break.”

Keith huffed out a breath. “I didn’t mean later today, I meant I’m going to save my lunches for when I’m really hungry.”

The tone of his voice suggested that he thought this was blatantly obvious, but Lance was only growing more confused with every answer Keith gave. “Uh, dude, you lost me. School lunches aren’t exactly a rare commodity that you gotta ration out.”

Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Look, your mom wrote out a check for my lunch account when we came in on Friday.” Lance nodded slowly. “The check was for a hundred dollars. A cafeteria lunch here costs two-fifty. That’s forty lunches.”

“Yeah…?”

“And with a hundred and eighty days in the school year, that’s about one lunch a week. I don’t know if I’ll be here the whole year, but just in case, I’m going to save them for when I actually need them. It’s pretty basic math, Lance.”

It took Lance a moment to realize his mouth had fallen open in his surprise. The rest of the table had gone quiet too, Pidge and Hunk staring at Keith just as openly, just as taken aback. A few seconds passed, during which Keith’s face fell to a confused frown at their reactions, before Lance found his voice again and said, “Uh, Keith, you - you do know that’s not a check for the whole school year, right?” Keith just stared at him. “It’s, um, it’s for the first couple of months, and then once your account’s running low, Mamá will just write a new check to refill it. You don’t need to save your meals.”

Keith blinked before his eyes darted over toward Pidge and Hunk as if looking for confirmation. Hunk nodded, and Keith’s shoulders slumped sheepishly as he let out a quiet, “Oh.”

“You didn’t seriously think Mamá was only letting you have one lunch a week, did you?” Lance said. When Keith didn’t reply, Lance let out a little indignant squeak. “Oh my god, you did! What the fuck, what kind of person do you think my mother is?!”

Keith’s brows slanted downward into a scowl. “It wasn’t an insult to your mother or anything, I just - ”

“You just were going to skip lunch four days a week? What the hell, dude?”

“Lance,” Hunk said, a hint of warning in his voice. “Let it go, it’s a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, but who misunderstands lunch money that badly? How the hell is this a new concept to you?!”

“It’s not a ‘new concept’ I - I - ” With a growl, Keith shot to his feet, pushing back the bench he and Lance were sitting on with a loud squeak that turned a few heads from the next table over; Lance had to grab onto the edge of the table to keep from being thrown from his fine. “I’m getting my damn lunch,” Keith muttered before turning away and stomping off.

Silence rang over the table as the three remaining sat staring at Keith’s retreating back, then Lance spun back around to the others. “Okay, that was weird, right? You can’t tell me that wasn’t weird.”

“Well, it was, uh… yeah, weird,” Hunk sighed. “Still, did you need to go off on him like that?”

“I didn’t go off on him, I just - I didn’t like what he was implying about Mamá, that’s all. Like, geez, I know he’s not crazy about living with us, I’m over it, but at least give us some credit! She feeds us like a grandma on Thanksgiving. Why the hell would he think he’s not allowed to have lunch?”

“I mean, like I said, seemed like just a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, but - Pidge, would you cool it with that slurping?!” he snapped.

Pidge, who had been loudly sipping her milk, lowered the carton, face pensive. “I wasn’t slurping,” she said. “I was thinking.”

“Think with a straw like the rest of us.”

“Thinking about what, Pidge?” Hunk asked as Pidge stuck her tongue out at Lance.

“Just, well…” She tapped her finger against her tray. “You know, there’s probably a - ” She stopped, straightening suddenly and whipping around in her seat, as a scrunched-up straw wrapper fell from her hair and onto the table. “You ass!” she called, and Lance leaned around to see the face of Pidge’s brother, grinning at her from two tables down and waggling his fingers in a wave, his other hand holding at the ready, what looked to be a crumpled bit of napkin already loaded into the end.

“I’m just saying hi!” Matt called back.

Pidge scowled and scooped up the wrapper. “You even think about doing that again and that straw’s going right up your - ”

“Pidge, there’s teachers,” Hunk said, nudging her.

Pidge slumped, her scowl deepening, and with a laugh Matt got up from his table and moved to theirs. “By the way, my dear pigeon,” he said as he slid onto their bench. “My Switch seems to have vanished from my backpack this morning. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Not a thing,” Pidge answered with a shrug.

“No kidding. So if I were to check your bag right now - ?”

“I’d sue you for searching without a warrant,” Pidge replied. “Besides, no video games at school, Matthew. Stop setting a bad example for me.”

“Hey, Matt,” Hunk said, reaching over to tap his arm. “There a date set for the first club meeting yet?”

“Got physics with Mr. Slav tomorrow, we’ll sort it out then,” Matt said. “Ooh, yeah, speaking of, guess this means you gotta be extra nice to me now, huh, Pidge? Don’t wanna piss off the president and get kicked out of the club.”

Pidge scoffed. “Like I’m not gonna program the robots to turn on you at the first sign you’re abusing your power. Oh, by the by, was talking to Ina in chemistry, she said she’s about convinced one of her friends to join, so we’ve got another underclassman for the team.”

“Which friend?” Hunk asked.

“James. And if we can get Lance on board - ”

“Absolutely not,” said Lance. “Also, just so you know, having James on board is making me even less likely to wanna join than ever.”

“Still pissed he ratted on you for cheating on that test last year?” Pidge asked with a raised brow.

“For the last time, I wasn’t cheating, I was just noticing his weird penmanship.”

“Uh-huh. Well, we’ve still got a chance with convincing Keith, I guess.”

“Oh, he that new foster brother of yours?” Matt asked. Lance nodded. “Cool. He around? I’d love to meet him. Ooh, you know, Shiro would probably be real interested too. Want me to - ”

“I wouldn’t try being too social with him,” Lance said. “He’s in a mood.”

“Correction: Lance put him in a mood,” said Pidge.

“Come on, all I did was ask - ” Lance cut himself off with a small jump in his seat as a tray slammed down onto the table next to him. He turned to see Keith sliding back into his seat, glowering down at his burger as he unwrapped it. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “Look who’s back.”

Matt grinned and leaned across the table toward Keith. “Hey,” he said. “So you’re Keith, huh?”

Keith glanced up, his eyes narrowed at him. “Yeah…” he said slowly. “What about it?”

“Just asking. Good to put a face to the name. I’m Matt, Pidge’s superior prequel.”

“Um,” Keith said, raising a brow.

“Pidge ever mention me yet?”

“I never mention you to anyone,” Pidge said. “I only tell people about things that are actually interesting.”

“You suck,” Matt said, ruffling her hair. “Don’t let her gremlin exterior fool you, Keith, she’s a teeny tiny little teddy bear under all that snark.” Keith said nothing, just stared at him. “Well, it was nice to meet you, man.”

“... Yeah,” said Keith.

“Real fireball, this guy is, huh?” Matt said, snatching two of Pidge’s tater tots before hopping up and heading back to his table.

Pidge huffed and slid the rest of her tater tots closer to herself. “He’s the worst,” she said, “But you learn to tune him out.” Even in the insults, a hint of fondness could be heard weaving through.

Hunk laughed lightly. “Makes you count yourself lucky you got stuck with Lance here as a brother instead, huh, Keith?”

Keith’s eyes darted Lance’s way before he softly muttered, “Uh-huh,” and returned his attention to his burger.

With an ‘I tried’ shrug toward Lance, Hunk went back to his own lunch, and Lance watched as Keith ate, his glare never wavering. Didn’t look like his mood would be dissipating any time soon.

Lance sighed as he resumed eating his own burger. Seemed he had a semester of very long lunches to look forward to.

[magnetvrs]

my @kyluxsecretsanta fic for @litchi-prince <3 I hope you enjoy!

tags: kylux, HS au, fluff, first kiss

Mr Skywalker was far from Hux’s favourite teacher. He was nice enough but that had never impressed Hux - Hux didn’t really know how to handle nice people, he always felt like he was ready for everyone to bite him and when they didn’t he felt off-balance. 

His room always felt like it had a layer of dust covering everything - the books that lined the walls, crammed in on overburdened shelves and his desk which was covered with knick-knacks that almost drove Hux to distraction with the urge to sweep them all off into a big plastic bin bag and throw them into the bins at the back of the kitchen - just to have a little order in the place. It was really like an emperor's ancient tomb filled with all his worldly possessions and left untouched for centuries, except a little more scatterbrained and untidy. Mr Skywalker himself seemed like a bit of a relic, not just because of his wild hair and weathered face and the strange robes he seemed to favour - sometimes he seemed like he was from a different planet entirely. 

It was a shame really because Hux did love history; he spent many evenings with his nose buried in musty old textbooks in his room, as his only companion. It was his favourite subject, one that he could always pass with his eyes closed even if Mr Skywalker seemed to be able to make everything so boring - with his diplomacy this and his forgiveness that. 

Mr Skywalker did have one redeeming feature, however. 

‘Ben! I won’t tell you again,’ he snapped, turning around from what he was writing on the whiteboard. For all that sometimes he seemed like he was on a different planet, Mr Skywalker did seem to have a sixth sense for Ben Solo and when he was doing something rebellious or obnoxious. Which was, to be fair, almost constantly. 

There was a shuffling sound behind Hux, a few curse words and ‘it’s Kylo’ muttered under his breath before Kylo was slamming his bag down onto the desk next to Hux’s - front and centre, of course. Everything bounced with the force and a few of Kylo’s keychains and pins clattered to the floor but Kylo didn’t seem to notice, slouching down at his desk and picking at his nails. His long hair, streaked obnoxiously with bright colours that Hux was sure didn’t meet school policy - hung like a curtain around Kylo’s face so that Hux couldn���t see his expression. That didn’t stop Hux from aiming a self-satisfied smirk in Kylo’s direction, though. 

Mr Skywalker seemed unsatisfied by this, running his hand through his hair, but doesn’t push it any further. Kylo’s foot was already tapping away underneath the table to some silent beat and Hux watched in sick fascination as the sole of his black converse flopped away from the rest of his shoe with every movement of his foot, as if it might rip off completely. Hux’s own shoes were loafers, black and specifically fitted to his feet that he’d shined that morning. It summed up their entire dynamic really, not exactly enemies but hostile to each other – on complete opposite ends of the social spectrum while both managing to be outcasts. Two extremes.

‘Well, Lei-... Mrs Organa pointed out that a group presentation is a part of your assessment and since you haven’t completed yet…,’ he pauses to clear his throat. ‘I’ve paired you all up and you’ll present your topic to the class next week.’ He picks up a stack of papers and starts placing them on their desks. 

Hux sinks down into his chair as Mr Skywalker places the paper down on his desk. He’s never enjoyed group work, especially not presentations - Hux has either ended up doing all the work himself despite trying to designate it or butting heads when the other group members didn’t like him taking charge. 

He picks up the paper half-heartedly, mentally preparing himself for whatever he’ll have to endure. But when he reads the name, Hux realises that nothing could’ve prepared him. 

**

 ‘Phasma!’ Hux hisses, tugging at her sleeve. ‘Stop staring! He’s going to notice.’

‘I can’t believe Skywalker paired you with him,’ Phasma says, apparently unwilling to drop the subject. But she does at least stop staring and turns back to her own lunch with the barest hint of a smile playing around the corners of her lips. ‘Doesn’t he know you’ll eat him alive?’ 

Hux chokes on his crisps, the sharp pieces scraping the inside of his throat on the way down. ‘What!? Phas?’

Phasma didn’t reply, instead smirking to herself as she ate her pasta.

‘Hey,’ a familiar low pitched voice just over his left shoulder says. Hux wonders, faintly, how long Kylo has been stood there and therefore how much of his panic Kylo had seen. It would certainly be troublesome if Kylo thought he cared about what Kylo thought of him, or had a crush on him or something. Foolish. ‘I guess we’re working together. Skysucker must want you to rescue my grade. You’re top of the class aren’t you?’

Hux takes a moment to cringe at the nickname. 

‘Oh,’ he replies, more snottily than he intended. He sees Phasma silently laughing out of the corner of his eye but elects to ignore her and instead stares steadfastly ahead. 

‘Well, here’s my number if you want to talk about it,’ Kylo says as a hand appears over Hux’s shoulder, holding out a piece of paper. Hux turns to look at Kylo, his gaze sweeping up from Kylo’s outstretched hand to Kylo’s face - where Hux realises, Kylo has a habit of rolling his lip piercing with his tongue. Disgusting. 

‘Yeah,’ he says, snatching the ragged paper from Kylo’s hand and trying not to think about how many germs it could possibly carrying as he shoves it into his pocket. ‘We’ll definitely need to talk. Don’t think that I’m going to work on this on my own, Ben. You don’t get to ride my coattails and half-ass this.’ 

Kylo simply shrugs, obviously unaware of the intimidating aura Hux is attempting to project and heads back to his friends across the cafeteria. 

‘You sure showed him,’ Phasma teases once Kylo is out of earshot. Hux rolls his eyes.

**

His backpack lays discarded on the edge of his bed, the A-Level coursework inside begging to be done - experiment write-ups and graphs and essays that usually Hux would’ve completed with gusto already. Instead Hux stares at his phone, the crumpled sheet of paper clutched between his fingertips. There’s a kind of suffocating anxiety settling in his chest already, at the thought of not having done his work but it’s not getting him to do this any faster. It should be nothing, a string of unconnected numbers shouldn’t intimidate him like this. And yet…

It’s Ben Solo’s number and that alone has Hux frozen, unable to think of anything to write. Was ‘hey’ too simple? Hux isn’t sure that he’s ever said ‘hey’ in his life. Listing off the sections that Hux had already earmarked for Ben seemed a bit too cold and impersonal (not to mention that there were so few of them because Hux wanted to limit the things that Ben would no doubt mess up, and wouldn’t Ben notice that straight away).

There’s no reason to be scared of Ben and his stupid distractingly pale and freckled face, Hux tells himself. He takes a deep breath and starts typing. He’s not used to having someone to text, except for Phasma who he’s known for so long that he doesn’t feel that overwhelming anxiety to keep himself neatly laced up and together around her, as he does around everyone else. 

She’s been there and seen his worst, known his deepest secrets, lived through the terrible haircuts and ache and squeaky voice and come out the other side. She’s practically family so it’s different with her. 

Hello Ben.

He hits send before he can think about it, tossing his phone aside and burying his face in his hands. He thinks that he’d rather die than read Kylo’s reply until his phone actually buzzes and he’s yanking it towards himself without thinking.

Hello Armitage. 

Hux’s teeth sink into his lip and he huffs in annoyance, taking a moment to stare at one of the bare white walls of his bedroom while he composes himself. Kylo is definitely fucking with him.

It’s Hux. I’ll write up the notes since I know more about the Russian Monarchy than you. I’ll send them to you and you can put them into the powerpoint. Do you think you can do that?

He doesn’t leave any room for Kylo to argue with him, simply setting out their roles in this. Hux supposes that if Kylo has a problem with this he’ll no doubt voice it. Sure, it’ll mean Hux doing most of the work but at least he’ll have control and God knows what Kylo would come up with. 

It’s Kylo. Of course, I can. 

Hux snorts in surprise, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his duvet. He’d been expecting Kylo to… well… be more argumentative than that, but it had gone easier than Hux was expecting. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all. 

Should I come over to your place?

Hux reads the message over and over again. A noise from downstairs catches his attention, a barely audible sound that could be someone clearing their throat or the scrape of a chair against the floor.

No. The library tomorrow at lunch. 

Hux sets the phone down safely on his bedside table and takes his bag over to his barren desk, pulling out the lab report that has to be done tomorrow and willing himself to concentrate on it -on anything except for Ben Solo. 

**

The library is busy when Hux gets there, so Hux ends up only being able to find a table at the back - squashed between biology textbooks and medical journals, behind a table of Year 7’s being loud and annoying. Hux glares at them as he pulls out his notes from his backpack and lines up his highlighters in colour order and thankfully, they seem to take the hint and head off outside.

He’s almost given up waiting when Kylo finally shows up, after all, there’s only so many times that Hux can rearrange his highlighters and shuffle his notes. Kylo’s swapped his black ripped jeans for tartan today, covered in chains and zips, and a faded band t-shirt. Hux stares for a moment, trying to make out the band before shaking his head at the faded fabric as if it’s personally offended him.

‘You’re late Ben!’

‘It’s Kylo,’ Kylo shouts back and Hux catches the librarian glancing over towards them. He aims his glare squarely at Kylo. Kylo throws his bag down onto the table, sending Hux’s neatly arranged highlighters scattering across the table. He unzips it with an unnecessary flourish and pulls out a giant, ancient and beaten up looking laptop whose fan buzzes loudly when he opens it up. The back is covered by stickers - bands that Hux has never heard of and skulls and pentagrams, scuffed and peeling away. He catches sight of a rainbow on one corner and averts his gaze, heart hammering in his chest. Was that…?

‘I’m not surprised that your laptop looks like that if you throw your things around. Don’t you care about anything?’ Hux snaps back, unable to disguise his envy - his father would never allow him his own private laptop, even though they could most definitely afford one. There’s just something about Kylo like Hux can’t quite control himself around him - every little thing Kylo does just gets under Hux’s skin. Usually Hux would hate it but again with Kylo… with Kylo it almost makes him feel strong. 

‘Can we just get on with this so I can leave?’ Now that he looks at him, Kylo does look as if he’s being followed around by his own personal rain cloud. Or more so than usual at least. His hair hangs limply around his face, grease caking the roots and there are two angry spots of colour high on Kylo’s elegant cheekbones, just below his more smudged than normal eyeliner.

‘Here are my notes,’ Hux says as he pushes them across the table, shifting easily into business mode and turning off those annoying thoughts that are eating away in the back of his mind. ‘I’ve divided them into sections and highlighted the important parts. All you need to do is make each section into a slide,’ he realises suddenly that he’s talking slower than usual - that he’s trying to annoy Kylo, just because he wants to. ‘If you can do that we’ll call it even, we can share the grade. Even though I’ve done all the work.’ 

Kylo splutters angrily but otherwise doesn’t panic, not bothering to glance at Hux as he pulls the notes towards him. Hux’s eyes narrow and he can feel his brow furrowing. Despite the little he knows about Kylo this is definitely not the usual Kylo - always pushing back, trying to get the final word in.

‘Is something…,’ Hux starts to say before he realises how ridiculous and caring he sounds. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s gone soft. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’

‘I have to go see Leia later,’ Kylo grumbles as if that should be enough to answer all of Hux’s questions, not looking up from where he’s furiously typing away on his laptop.

‘Don’t you mean Mrs Organa,’ Hux says, highlighter poised in mid-air. 

‘I definitely mean Leia,’ Kylo says, popping another M&M into his mouth. ‘She’s my mum after all, she doesn’t mind what I call her as long as I’m still talking to her. We agreed.’ 

‘The Head Teacher is… your mum?’ Hux says slowly. Now that Kylo’s said it he can definitely see the similarities there, something in Kylo’s smile and his high cheekbones. Not that Kylo smiles much. Frankly Hux is surprised that he even knows what Kylo’s smile looks like, but he can see it as clear as day in his head so maybe Hux has been looking more than he’d like to admit - more than he’d even realised. ‘You don’t have the same name?’ He blurts before he can stop himself.

‘My family’s pretty dysfunctional,’ Kylo says, leaving it at that. It’s almost like he’s embarrassed about it, apparently unwilling to expand on this any further. He doesn’t need to though because it hits Hux like a ton of bricks, his chest feels tight with understanding and his lips dry; he’s embarrassed to realise that he’s shaking. It feels like the world has shifted on its axis but nobody else seems to have noticed.

There has been a change though, a spark of connection that’s passed unspoken between them. For the first time, Hux understands - understands Ben Solo, understands Kylo Ren. 

Where Hux conforms, wrapping himself in his order and unity, Kylo Ren rebels - pushing against authority, against everyone, making himself The Other that Mr Antilles the English teacher had kept banging on about in Gothic literature. Hux understands.

He glances over at Kylo again, meeting Kylo’s gaze this time. They share a look for a moment, Hux’s chest squeezing until he’s afraid he’s going to suffocate under the weight of that look - of whatever it is that is passing between them.

‘I have to go,’ he says, the words coming out strangled and half-formed. ‘I’ll do the rest at home.’ He takes off, heart-pounding, unwilling to think about what’s just happened.  

**

Hux runs a comb through his hair one last time, securing that a few flyaways are meticulously glued down flat to his head. He admires his reflection for a moment with a critical eye, noting the impressive circles beneath his eyes that surely every A-Level student approaching exam season has as well as the pale, sallow colour of his skin. Apart from his hair and his clothes, Hux has never particularly cared about his appearance. But apparently in the middle of a school bathroom is the moment his mind has decided that he really should do. He leans closer as if examining his skin in more detail will reveal some unknown secrets and his thoughts turn to Kylo Ren. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of that thought but too afraid that he knows exactly why he would care about Kylo Ren’s opinion of his appearance. 

The alarm on his watch goes off - only 10 minutes until class, and so Hux gathers up his things and leaves the bathroom. It’s not like he’s going to be late, there’s no need to rush and yet to Hux not being early is as good as being late. The halls are busy but Hux is used to it, ducking around hordes of Year 8’s with P.E. kits and other Sixth Formers who were totally not mitching off to get McDonald’s for lunch in a completely obvious way. He finally reaches the history department, sinking back into the alcove against the wall between rows of lockers as he waits for the previous class to be over. 

He’s not exactly excited about the presentation per se, he’s always liked public speaking but his classmates weren’t exactly motivating to try and present to. He’s got some kind of strange energy that’s been building in him all day, though, tingling at his fingertips and the back of his neck. Maybe it’s not the presentation he’s excited for… maybe it’s seeing him… Hux swallows thickly, staring down at his USB and pages of notes.

‘Hey so,’ Kylo says as he flops down next to Hux, all limbs and elbows and knees - as if he’d heard Hux’s thoughts. ‘I’m not doing the presentation. Good luck.’ 

Hux swallows, unable to form a coherent thought for a moment. He’s distinctly aware of the sound of blood rushing in his ears and the way his fingertips are tightening around his sheet of notes.

‘You’re… You’re what! Ren! You absolute fucking…. You…. fucking…. Shit…. Fuck…,’ Hux is truly at a loss for words. Somewhere along the line, his mouth seems to have become disconnected from his brain and both of them can only reel at Kylo’s stupidity. ‘You’re not going to do this to me, you prick. You’re not!’’ 

Kylo is silent, his face far less stormy than Hux would’ve thought after that barrage of curses, Hux manages to think through the fog of rage clouding his mind. 

‘You called me Ren,’ Kylo says quietly, after a moment. 

‘Well of course I did! It’s your fucking name isn’t it?’ He shouts back, getting angrier by the second.

‘Thank you,’ Kylo says softly and before Hux can process what’s happening, Kylo is leaning in until their lips are only a few bare inches apart. Oh, Hux realises, he wants to…

Hux realises that he also wants to. He wants to kiss Kylo Ren, for all his stupid haircuts and terrible personality and annoyingly beautiful face. 

Closing the gap is easy, it’s only when their lips meet that Hux starts to panic. Kylo feels warm against him, his lips slightly chapped and rough, and Hux is frozen - taking in the feeling with a kind of distant panic. What if he forgot to brush his teeth that morning, what if he’s no good at kissing, what if….? Luckily, Kylo takes the lead and starts to move his lips softly against Hux’s, tipping Hux’s head back. Hux loses himself in the feeling, kissing back as much as he can. 

When Kylo pulls away Hux decides that it wasn’t terrible all things considered.  

Kylo smiles as he gets up. ‘See you later.’

Hux breathes for a moment, his hand moving towards his lips of its own accord - as if pulled by some invisible magnet. His lips feel the same as always - smooth and soft thanks to a regular Chapstick routine although they tingle slightly at the touch of his fingertips - slightly sensitive now. Once again, the world feels like it’s changed, shifted around the two of them like an alternate reality. Hux wonders how he can ever go back to just ‘being’ now, now that he knows what it’s like to kiss Kylo Ren.

That was… that was…

‘Kylo you bastard!’ He shouts at Kylo’s retreating back. 

‘Armitage!’ Mr Skywalker bursts out of the classroom. ‘I don’t expect that kind of language from you! Is your presentation ready?’