#so maybe we’ll have a cleaning party when we get back on sunday

[taran-chan]

on a Wednesday, in a cafe (chapter 25)

Read on AO3

friday lunchbox: rolled omelette & octopus-shaped sausages

“Watch this,” Gil picks a piece of rolled omelette, cutting it diagonally into two halves. He flips one smaller piece over, putting them together again and creating a heart. Inside the roll are minced carrots, peas and sliced ham. He puts the heart on top of the omelette in Thena’s lunchbox with his buttery corn rice, squeezing some ketchup on it.

“Very creative,” Thena grins, pulling him close to give him a kiss before dropping her breakfast dish into the sink.

“Oh, leave it to me,” Gil says when she starts turning on the tap, “You go get ready for work.”

“Thank you,” she wipes her hands on his apron, then cups his cheeks. He manages to tilt his head and kiss the inside of her palm before she pulls away. His eyes silently ask her how she’s feeling. She holds back a smile, whispering so their guest can’t catch it.

“I’m feeling much better. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

Gil nods, “I’ll do it again.”

She mouths "love you" and then heads to their bathroom, but Sersi stops her, “Hey, the nail polish we ordered has arrived yesterday.”

“Great timing,” Thena lifts one of her eyebrows, “Would you mind bringing it over to my house after work?”

“No problem,” Sersi replies, then nudges the boy next to her, “Jack, focus on your breakfast. We don't want to be late for the last day of school.”

The 10 years-old boy is examining his small lunchbox, containing the exact same food as Thena’s. Earlier this morning, Phastos and Ben dropped their kid at Gil's so that they could attend a funeral of a distant relative of Ben in the nearby city. Phastos doesn’t want to let him eat junk food and asks Gil to make him some lunch. They also ask Sersi to take him to school. The teacher skips her breakfast to drive to Eternal in fear of being late, but turns out she arrives just when Jack and Thena are having fluffy pancakes. And so Gil, generous as always, makes her some as well. (“Sersi, stop taking pictures, the pancakes will get cold,” Gil chides and Jack snickers, “Miss Sersi got scolded!”)

“Good boy,” Gil comments as Jack finishes his breakfast and cleans up his dishes, putting them into the sink before retrieving his precious lunchbox. The chef hurriedly grabs the set of keys on the table and runs after Sersi.

“You forgot something.”

“Oops,” she sticks her tongue out, taking her keys from him.

“Have a great last day of school,” he says, “By the way, are you going to the high school’s Sport Event on Sunday?”

“You know I can’t miss Sprite’s play. Last year’s The Jungle Book was a huge success.”

“Makkari said you were more excited to see Ajak run.”

“Let’s face it, who isn’t,” Sersi laughs, “We’re leaving now. Thanks for treating me to breakfast.”

“Thanks for the lunchbox, Gil,” Jack says.

“Eat well, don’t leave anything behind,” Gil ruffles his hair.

★

“Do you have a suit?” Thena asks, gripping his arm to slip into her stilettos. Gil smiles, slowly but confidently takes a hold of her waist.

“Maybe. Have you decided to attend the banquet tonight?”

“Sersi said the food would be good, and I think I’ll check out the bar.”

She really has changed. Back in the day, she wouldn't even consider going to such parties. But now? She finds herself entertaining the idea of Gil being her date at all those events.

“Would you at least give me a dance first?”

“We’ll get back to it later, I haven’t tried the chef’s lunchbox today.”

“Are you playing hard to get, miss Thena?” He teases, “I hope you like octopus-shaped sausages.”

He knows damn well she does, her smile and the glint in her eyes just proved it.

“Have a great day at work, my dear,” he kisses her and she sighs into their kiss, pressing herself against him like she can't get enough of him. When they part, she touches her lips to check on her lipstick but Gil shakes his head.

“It’s perfect,” he says, closing the door behind them. They walk together to the gate.

“See you tonight,” she breathes, but neither of them let go of their hands and they stand there for one or two more minutes, Gil twirls a lock of her hair around his forefinger, lowering his head to kiss it, then he keeps planting feather-light kisses up her neck, making her gasp between giggles. And after one, two, three final pecks on her lips, he steps back and pulls open the car door for her.

“Your place at 7?” He confirms and she nods, her legs still wobbly from the kisses. He helps her put the bag that has her lunch and iced vanilla latte inside on the passenger seat, then closes the door.

At lunchtime, he checks his phone and finds a new text from Thena from half an hour ago. She took a picture of her empty lunchbox, apart from the two halves of omelette that form a heart, along with two words: “One dance.” He almost dances around the kitchen, the joy he gets from that single text rushing through him makes it hard to sit still. He kisses the small screen, staring at it in utter bliss for a while longer, then texts back.

“I love you too.”

★

On the way to Thena’s, Gilgamesh can’t help but feel nervous and excited like a high school boy on his first school prom. It’s been a while since he last went to a fancy party. He’s got home and changed after his pottery class is over, and now he constantly adjusts his tie, hoping that the summer heat won’t make him sweat too much in his only suit.

He presses the doorbell and waits, hiding the bouquet behind his back. The door opens after a minute or so and he’s surprised when he finds Sersi is standing there in a dark green midi dress. Her thick raven hair is pulled up into a graceful bun with a glass green pin shaped like a rose.

“You’re here!” She smiles brightly, “Come on in, Thena will be down in a second.”

“You look great, Sersi,” he gives her a thumb up. He forgot Ikaris is Thena’s colleague, of course Sersi would be his date.

Her smile grows brighter, “Thank you! You’re not looking so bad yourself.”

“Really? I’m not used to dressing up like this,” Gil scratches his hair, “I don’t look weird or anything?”

“What are you talking about? Give yourself some credit. Don’t you always say that you’re more handsome than Ikaris?”

“Fat chance,” Ikaris’ voice echoes from the living room and Gil snorts.

“When did you come here?” He asks when they move towards the couch, where Ikaris is sitting.

“About an hour ago. Thena and I helped each other try on dresses and stuff, because neither of us usually goes to banquets.”

“We’ll just stay there for a little while then make some excuses to get out,” Ikaris shrugs, taking Sersi’s hand and tugging until she sits down next to him, “I’m lucky I have Sersi, she’s great with the small talks.”

But Gil has stopped listening, might as well have stopped thinking. Thena just walked into the room. She’s wearing a silk dress, its colour simmers from ivory to white depending on her movements and the way the lights shine on it. It has spaghetti straps and the hem only goes a little past her knees. Its front dips just enough to show her cleavage. The dress fits her perfectly, highlighting her curves and the sway of her hips when she walks. Gil has to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. Her hair cascaded down her back as usual, the rather wild locks have turned into perfect loose curls around her face. Not a single hair is out of place. Above her left ears are a couple of golden hair clips with a diamond bird wing on each.

“Thought I heard your voice,” she smiles, her eyes scanning him up and down in his navy blue suit, and he sees desire in them. The room suddenly becomes too hot and too hard to breathe. He’s just getting used to that predatory look these few months, and her appearance right now doesn’t do him any good.

“You look…” He croaks, but he can’t find any words that are worth describing her beauty. However, That earns him a toothy smile from her, she seems to be endlessly amused that she renders him speechless. Over her lips is a shade of dark red lipstick, stunning and dangerous. She moves just a tad closer to him and holds out her hand, and he closes the distance as if being hypnotised, meeting her halfway. He presents the poor, now dim-looking bouquet to her.

“For you,” he says, taking in her piercings, two on each of her ears, twinkling gold just like her pair of hair clips. She’s very aware of how her double-piercing affects him. In fact, he’s the one who asked her to wear those piercings some days ago so this is really on him. She holds the sunflowers and white daisies close, whispering a “thank you”, her ears redden. He touches the familiar spot on the small of her back, the spot that recently his mind starts to call “his spot” unconsciously. He feels his knees weaken when he realizes the dress is almost backless, only white straps crisscrossing each other from her waist to her shoulder blades.

“Wow,” his voice comes out shakily. He wants nothing more than to kiss her, but he fears he might not be able to stop and her perfect red lipstick would be smudged and they would be late and oh my god she’s taking off his tie– Her long, slender fingers skillfully pull the fabric all the way down and she adjusts the collar. Finally, she pops open the top button of his white shirt.

“This is more like you,” she says, her hand lingers, patting his chest once more. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Ready?” She asks, sliding her arm through the crook of his. He nods, noticing her fingernails have the same shade of red as her lips, and so are her toenails. The colour is captivating on her pale skin.

“Shall we go?” Ikaris clears his throat to remind them that there are other people there, because the atmosphere surrounding them is getting quite alert.

“I called an Uber for us,” Sersi says, putting her phone into her purse. Thena also grabs hers.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ikaris stands up and stretches.

“You and Thena are so alike sometimes,” Sersi chuckles as she puts a tiepin on Ikaris, while Gil gestures for Thena to sit down on the couch’s armrest, then he gets on one knee and sticks two band-aids which he brought with him on her achilles heels so the new shoes won’t hurt her feet.

“We are not alike!” They both snap simultaneously, then glare at each other.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Thena mumbles with a frown, not particularly at anyone in the room. Gil only laughs, lifting one of her feet onto his right knee.

“Yeah, you two aren’t alike at all,” he agrees, “You, my dear, you can rock in a suit and I bet Ikaris could never look as gorgeous in a silk dress as you.”

“Hey! I have feelings too!” Ikaris gapes at him as Sersi and Thena laugh so hard they almost fall over.

★

They ride an Uber to a hotel downtown, stepping into the bright, crowded lobby and being led into a large hall, where the law firm’s anniversary party is held. Gilgamesh can’t take his eyes off Thena and she’s having a hard time not touching him. One of her hands clasped in his, the other either tugs at the lapels of his jacket, or brushes something off his shoulder. One time she reaches into his inside pockets for a tissue, her gardenia perfume clings to his jacket. He’s lucky he hasn’t tripped on anything.

There are tables arranged along the walls. The four of them are placed together at the same table. They have no idea where Kingo is seated because he keeps jumping from one table to another. He goes from greeting to flirting to dancing and drinking. He catches Thena and Gilgamesh at the bar, hyping up their outfits and forcing them to take some selfies with him, and then some junior lawyer calls out for him and he disappears in a blink of an eye. They see Sersi gleefully talking to Thena and Ikaris’ co-worker. She seems to remember everybody there from the few times she’s met them. You should never underestimate a teacher’s ability to memorize multiple faces.

When the party officially starts, they return to their table. Gilgamesh sits next to Thena, and some people recognize him because they have been to Eternal one day or another. Every time some woman makes small talk with him, he feels Thena’s hand on his thigh, and he tries to ignore the looks they’ve been getting ever since they arrived. Soon, the food is served and he gets to relax a bit. And because Thena somehow coaxed him into talking about the dishes that he can make with the vegetables in his garden, he doesn’t know that except for Sersi and Ikaris, almost everyone at the nearby tables is staring at them with curiosity. Their eyes widen as Gil, still talking, casually cuts the steak on her plate and brings a slice to her lips with his fork, and she happily takes it in one bite. She’s listening to him with a genuine interest, not-so-successful in hiding her small laugh into her glass of wine. Many people there never get to hear her let out so much of an amused chuckle.

Gil is smiling from ear to ear because his Thena is having a good time. Little does he know, she’s having a good time because of him.

“Everybody in this room, except our friends, is jealous of me,” he leans forward a bit and whispers into her ear. The music is pretty loud at the moment and Sersi just pulled Ikaris onto the dance floor. Kingo already made himself the center of the party, as usual.

“Nonsense,” she snorts.

“I’m serious!” He insists, “Have you looked at yourself tonight? Took my breath away.”

“So, have you got it back?” Thena puts her chin on her palm, “I think I owe someone a dance.”

“You just want me all to yourself, don’t you?”

“And you don’t want that?” Her left eyebrow forms a perfect arch.

The moment a slower song comes up, Gil immediately stands and takes her hand, pulling her to her feet. He leads them both to the dance floor, circling her waist. Perhaps it is he who eagerly wants her for himself. His hand covers hers on his chest, their gaze never leaving each other, despite those looks still glued to their backs. They dance to the song leisurely, shifting one foot to another, feeling each other’s breaths. He pulls her closer on the second song, which Kingo has requested to be another slow song, their hips touch like they always do whenever they dance together at home. He nuzzles her hair and she puts her head on his chest.

“What do you think if we get the hell out of here by the end of this song?” She asks, feeling the warmth from his hand on the exposed parts of her back, “I know a fine bar not so far from here. I could buy you a drink, for dressing up so nicely for me.”

“Then make out in a corner of that bar?” He thinks this time he can smudge her lipstick without any real consequences.

She grins into his jacket, “You always have the best ideas.”

“And you know I'm always down with everything you're up to,” he kisses the crown of her head.

“And I, you.”

[raibebe]

Love Is On Air

Genre: fluff & smut Words: 8.722 Prompt: radio host Johnny x secret admirer female reader Warnings: soft dom Johnny, oral (f receiving), safe sex, dirty talk

A/N: Finally: My entry for the February event of my lovely network @neosmutcollective​. This is totally not the fic I planned on writing. In fact this was started way later after I realized I was never going to finish my original fic on time. Not that this one is on time... Special thanks to everyone who sent our lovely DJs some music recommendations @sly-merlin​, @moonctzeny​, @lenaluvs​, @lucas-wongs​, @burtonized​ and to @ncteaxhoe​ who helped me figure out this idea. I hope you enjoy this even though it’s wayyy too late.

You hurried home to your apartment after your last class of the day that was horrifically late because of whoever had fucked up your schedule this semester. Panting heavily, you busted into your room and threw your jacket and backpack somewhere onto your couch, diving straight for your laptop that was perched on your desk. Cursing the old thing, you waited for agonizing minutes until it had booted up and your browser was open. You quickly opened the familiar page of your university’s campus radio just in time to hear the familiar voice saying: “Hi I’m John-D, welcome to NCT Night Night.” After that both hosts chuckled lowly before Jaehyun spoke: “Tonight we’ll read some of the letters you wrote us over the week again and we will try our best to help you out with whatever problems you throw our way.” “Exactly. Right after we play this song that was suggested by evangelie_99 over on our Twitter, it’s Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County and she said that she loves our show. We’re glad you like it so much, darling. This one is for you,” Johnny softly said before the soft tunes of the song filled your little one-room apartment.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, carelessly toeing your shoes off. Listening to NCT Night Night was your escape at night from the stress that classes brought you. The two DJs that were on air every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday were your favorites though. Not only did they have great chemistry but they both could be incredibly funny as well as soothe all your nerves with their calming voices – especially Johnny or John-D as he was called on their show. You might have developed a slightly embarrassing crush on the fratboy with a heart as sweet as his voice from what you knew about him from his radio shows and your shared classes. Since they had started their weekly segment where they would read out letters that students could send them, you had gathered the courage to send Johnny little messages about how you were crushing on him and it had quickly become a running gag on the show. Jaehyun would tease Johnny about it every week while Johnny kept insisting that his secret admirer should just talk to him. But how could you do that? Johnny was everything one could want in a boyfriend. Not only was he ridiculously tall and devastatingly handsome but he was also smart, always seemingly staying on top of his classes and he also went to the gym regularly if his thirst traps on his Instagram stories were anything to go by. When he wasn’t giving out advice in a gentle voice on their radio program, he was out partying with his frat brothers on the weekends more often than not complaining about headaches on their Sunday show. How could you just walk up to him and talk to him? Right. You couldn’t. So you had to resign to sending him anonymous love letters through his radio show.

“Welcome back, hi,” Johnny chuckled once the song had gently faded out and you couldn’t help but giggle along. “That was Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County,” Jaehyun tried to stay on script but you could almost hear the grin on his face because of Johnny’s antics, “If you want your song to play on today’s show, please suggest something over on our Twitter with the hashtag,” Jaehyun paused momentarily and let out a dramatic sigh before continuing, “hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin.” Jaehyun hadn’t even read the whole hashtag out loud when Johnny was already bursting out in laughter and how could you not laugh along with his melodic laughter. “I swear to god I am never letting you choose hashtags for our show ever again,” Jaehyun groaned while Johnny sounded like he was still dying in the background. “Don’t be mean to me Jaehyunie,” he whined and even though today’s episode was not viewable, you could vividly imagine how he was pouting. While the two friends were busy bickering and talking about what they had done since their last show, you pulled up your own Twitter to send a recommendation in.

“Aaaah, I see we’re already getting plenty of suggestions. Sly-merlin suggested us Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato – a great song – and added ‘I wish John-D would actually play me like a violin.” After a potent silence, Johnny broke out in laughter again. “And this is why you won’t choose any more hashtags,” Jaehyun groaned again. “Baby,” Johnny rasped into his mic and even though you weren’t wearing headphones, it sent tingles down your spine, “Just come to our frat party on Friday and I’ll see what I can do.” “Stop plugging our parties on the radio,” Jaehyun scolded the elder, the slap audible over the radio, “Also sly-merlin has to stand in line. You still have your number one admirer who has sent in a letter yet again.” “She still hasn’t come up to me,” Johnny shared, “I can only keep up my chastity for so long. I am saving myself for this girl.” You know he was joking but you were just a simple woman and even in your secluded home, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, your thumbs stopping on your keyboard where you had typed out your song recommendation. Both DJs shared a quiet laugh before Jaehyun asked: “And you really don’t know who she is?” “I really don’t man,” his friend sighed, “Like I have my suspicions because she has to be in my major if she sees me in class that often. That or she’s a stalker which I do not want to think about. But for real, hit me up. I’ll take you out for a coffee.” “Now everyone is going to come up to you and claim that they’re her.” “I’ll take that risk,” Johnny laughed, “Maybe I’ll finally meet the love of my life and settle down.” At that Jaehyun snorted loudly. “The woman that can make you settle down gets free coffee for like a month from me.” “Watch me have a wife and kids at 25 Jae, just to spite you,” his friend snorted, “But up until then, let’s play sly-merlin’s song recommendation: Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato.”

While the song was playing, you finished up your own tweet and hit post before you grabbed your bag that you had carelessly thrown away before to get out your notes. You actually had to start a project for one of the classes you and Johnny actually did share. The professor had announced that he would announce the pairings for a group project tomorrow and you didn’t want to seem like an actual idiot if your group would decide to already meet up and discuss after class. So while you listened to your favorite DJs discuss the questions and worries of whoever had sent them to their email address, you worked through the notes you had taken over the last couple of weeks, trying your best to organize them to remember the key points.

“Oh John-D, I have a very special letter here,” Jaehyun said, waving the paper in front of the microphone so it would pick up the wiggling noises. “What could that be?” Johnny asked with over-exaggerated interest. “It’s from your secret admirer, John-D. So I think you should read it out.” Just like every time, they read your letter, your heart began beating faster and faster in your chest until you were sure, it would break free from your ribcage. “Okay, here I go,” Johnny announced while Jaehyun was playing the same cheesy music he always played when they were reading your letters, “Happy Thursday, John-D. The weekend is almost in reach, keep up the energy for the last day of classes! – she’s so sweet, I’m holding up alright – One of my professors will announce the pairings he made for a group project soon and I am nervous. I don’t have many friends in the course and I’m praying that I will get good group mates I can work well with.” “Oooh, I get that struggle,” Jaehyun interrupted, “I once had to work with a bunch of stoners and ended up doing all the work for a presentation that made up 30 percent of my grade. Worst experience of my life, would not recommend. But we’re wishing you all the luck.” “But you know what’s more interesting about this story?” Johnny tuned in, “Coincidentally my professor for my literature class is assigning our group projects tomorrow as well. Say, my sweet admirer, are you perhaps in the same literature class as me?” In your otherwise silent room, the panicked squeak you let out was loud even to your ears. There was no way Johnny could figure out who you were, there were probably at least 20 more girls with a crush on him in that class alone, so you were safe. “Oooh, so maybe she’s a lit major so that’s why she’s writing love letters.” “Could be but lots of people from different majors are taking that class,” Johnny argued, “Anyways, back to her letter. But I won’t let that disturb me! I will be doing my best regardless! – That’s the spirit – I’ll work through my notes as I listen to your honey voice so I can be prepared. I’m glad you don’t do viewable radios on Thursday’s or else I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, you’re just too distracting John-D,” at that Jaehyun let out a fake gag while Johnny just giggled softly, “Thank you secret admirer, I do clean up quite nicely if I do say so myself. – On last Sunday’s episode you melted my heart when you hid in your hoodie for half the show. – God that was the worst hangover I had in a looong while, I was so miserable.”

“You should have seen him at home,” Jaehyun laughed, “I had to physically drag his whole 180-something-centimeters body first into the shower, then into the car and into the station. He is the biggest crybaby when he’s hungover.” “Don’t expose me like that, Jaehyunie,” Johnny whined loudly, “I was dared to drink a bunch of tequila and my mother didn’t raise neither a quitter nor a coward.” “No, but clearly an idiot,” the younger DJ laughed his deep laugh. “Let me read my love letter in peace,” the other grumbled, “I couldn’t follow for half the show because I was so focused on watching you. Not in a creepy way of course! – Of course not,” Johnny chuckled, “I hope you finished that essay you had to work on after the show in time and still had some time to relax. – I did, don’t worry.” That you already knew when Johnny had handed in his essay in another class you two shared just before you had handed in yours and he had thrown you a little smile that had kept you going through the whole day. “Take care of yourself and keep smiling your beautiful smile, I look forward to seeing you again on Sunday or in classes. And fighting to Jae-D as well of course! – I look forward to hearing from you again, secret admirer. I bet your group project will go just fine, don’t worry too much. If anyone is mean to you, just expose them here and we’ll fight them for you.” “Love that she acknowledged me in one sentence as well,” Jaehyun grumbled, cutting off the cheesy music abruptly. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a sweet admirer who sends you cute messages,” the other teased his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and put that letter in the box under your bed.” “It’s in my sock drawer, thank you very much.”

Giggling, you listened to the two friends bicker, your chest warm with a feeling you were scared to put a name on. “Anyways, I think it’s time for another music recommendation you can still send in via our lovely hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin. This one is from lenaluvies and she says: Please play Hurts So Good by Astrid S thank you. No, thank you for sending something in darling. This one’s for you,” Johnny announced and you couldn’t help but laugh a little pained laugh. That song title hit a little too close to home for your liking. The rest of the radio show went by smoothly and Johnny and Jaehyun tried to help a handful of more students with their problems that couldn’t be more diverse. From a boy who had fallen in love with his best friend which had send him into an identity crisis over to a girl who was failing her classes because she claimed the professor hated her to a freshman who wanted to apply for a fraternity but was scared because of the rumors surrounding them which the DJs quickly debunked since they both were in the same fraternity. In the end they had to cut themselves short, asking their viewers to vote on a poll they would make if people wanted a whole Tuesday episode surrounding fraternities.

“So.” “So,” Johnny copied his friend. “We’re almost at the end of our time with you guys. We couldn’t get through all of your submissions but we hope our team picked a few good ones and at least some of you could get some advice.” “As always you’re free to send us your own stories to our e-mail JohnJaeNNN@NCTU.com to get some advice next Thursday from your favorite DJs: John-D.” “And Jae-D. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on your campus radio on 127mHz. On NCT-“ “Night Night,” they said their ending together and just like every night with them, you said goodnight to your computer screen, closing the tab which draped your little apartment in silence. Sighing loudly, you looked over your notes that needed a little more work if you wanted to make a good first impression on your fellow students tomorrow. Because you couldn’t stand the silence, you opened your Spotify to play the NCT Night Night playlist Johnny and Jaehyun had made with the songs that had been recommended to them, still missing the new additions from tonight.

The next morning found you in your literature class, sitting two rows behind Johnny, staring at the back of his head while doodling on your paper rather than taking notes on whatever the professor was saying. If you were to let your eyes wander, you’d see that almost everyone in the big room was paying as much or even less attention as you were; the students in different states of excitement and anxiety over the group projects he had yet to announce. “I’m sorry professor,” Johnny’s voice suddenly cut through the room, “I’m sure you have already noticed that no one is paying attention to whatever you’re trying to teach us right now. Could you please just announce the groups for the project?” That moment you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop until your eccentric professor chuckled lowly. “I like you, Suh. I was waiting for someone to mention it,” he spoke, getting the dreaded list out of his bag, “Listen closely now, you’ll be assigned in groups of four and each group will get a specific novel to work on. Deadline will be by the end of the semester and your individual paper combined with the group presentation will make up 40% of your final grade.” That made a bunch of people, including you, gasp out loudly. A group project with this much credit to your final grade was always dreaded. “I don’t want to hear any complaints, that’s how it’s always been. Now listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself but the list will be hung on our blackboard as well.” With that being said, the professor began listing names and novels in the most monotone voice he could muster. To say you were basically vibrating off of your seat was an understatement when he got further and further down the list and neither yours nor Johnny’s name had been called yet. “And lastly, an all-time favorite: Romeo and Juliet.” You didn’t even register anything else after the professor had announced that the group featured both Johnny and you along with two other students you didn’t know. Your brain was reduced to static noise while everyone else was getting up around you to pick up the books that had already been stacked in a corner, probably by a poor TA. Only when a person bumped into you, you broke from your stupor to quickly pick up your stuff as well to hurry down to steps to where a crowd of students had already gathered.

Luckily Johnny towered over most of the other students and you could easily spot him and the rest of your group that were two other boys you didn’t recognize. “Hey, you’re the last one we were missing,” Johnny smiled and handed you over your copy of the book. “Y... Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” you stuttered, clutching the small book tightly in your hands. “No big deal,” Johnny played it off, “Do any of you have any more classes today?” When everyone declined, you all agreed that you should get a head start on your project as it would be hard to make a good project out of such an overused love story. While walking over to the student center to decide on a concept, conversation flowed easily between the four of you even though you were still really nervous to be around Johnny. God, you really hoped he didn’t think you were stupid or something just because you were nervous.

The little study session went by in a blur and only further confirmed that you were so whipped for Johnny it wasn’t even funny anymore. You found yourself attentively listening to all of his ideas and laughing at every of his stupid little jokes and only mildly spacing out while looking at Johnny when the others were discussing ideas which had led to one or two mildly embarrassing situations where you would lose track of what you were actually discussing, your mind blank of any input when they asked for your opinion.

Soon you found yourself parting ways with your groupmates, leaving you and Johnny alone because his frat house and your little apartment were located in the same general direction. “Anything fun you’re doing this evening?” Johnny asked, trying to make some light conversation to fill the silence. “No, I’ll just binge watch some shows maybe or listen to the campus radio,” you shrugged it off. While today’s show wasn’t your favorite, you quite liked the DJs soft and gentle voice. “You listen to the campus radio? I have a show on there,” Johnny smiled. “I like listening to you and Jaehyun,” you confessed, trying to fight the heat that was licking at your cheeks. “Oh.” “You seem surprised.” “Yeah, it kind of still seems weird that people enjoy listening to Jae and me rambling for hours on end. You know with him it just feels like I’m hanging out with my brother rather than work.” “Your voices are really soothing, you know,” you tried to explain what you were feeling when listing to them, “And your friendship is kind of adorable. Like we can feel how much you care about each other and you always genuinely try to help your listeners without making fun of them.” For a while Johnny didn’t say anything and you thought you had fucked it up, that he thought you were weird now. “Thank you,” he suddenly said. “Huh?” “It means a lot hearing that. We do lurk on Twitter to see what people think of our show but hearing it like this is something else entirely.” “It’s nothing,” you mused, playfully hitting his arm, “No need to get this soft.” “Hey,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am 180 centimeters of walking softness despite what people might say about me.” Smiling softly you caught his eyes for the first time since you two had started walking and the way his honey eyes were smiling back at you momentarily took your breath away.

“I- My room is right around here, sooooo,” you stuttered. “It was nice working with you. Even though you were spacing out half the time,” Johnny teased, “Thinking about a special someone?” You. The word sat on the tip of your tongue, the low light of the afternoon sun making you bolder than you actually were and Johnny just made you feel incredibly comfortable. “No... No- I- I’m single.” “A crush then?” “Something like that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your jacket. “Talk to him. Or her. Or them,” Johnny advised. “I really can’t,” you sighed, “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Well you don’t need to confess your undying love for him,” he laughed, not knowing he was the boy in question, “Just you know. Casually talk to him. Get to know him.” “I’ll try?” “Is that a question?” “Yeah?” “Have more confidence in yourself,” he gently nudged you, “You’re nice and very easy to talk to.” “Nice... Wow.” “Shut up,” he laughed, “I usually give better compliments but I have yet to get to know you better.” “Would you... Would you even want that?” “Sure,” Johnny shrugged and your heart skipped a couple of beats, “I have to get going or everybody will already be drunk when I arrive. So... I’ll see you in class? And you’ll hear me on Sunday?” “Yeah sure. Don’t drink too much or you will be miserable all show like last week,” you giggled. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m never going to drink tequila on a Saturday ever again.” “Goodbye Johnny,” you smiled, really liking how his name sounded when you said it out loud. “Bye,” he waved before going his way.

Once you were sure he was out of hearing distance, you let out a little happy squeak and jumped up and down excitedly. You did it. You had actually done it. You had talked to your crush. And managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him. Which was a win in your books. A huge win. With a little spring in your steps, you stepped by one of your favorite pizza places to treat yourself before heading home where you spend your evening daydreaming about none other than Johnny while watching reruns of old dramas.

“Hi, I’m Jae-D.” “And I am John-D. Welcome to NCT-“ “Night Night.” “John-D.” “Yes, Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled. “It’s Thursday again which means it’s time to tend to our listener’s worries,” Jaehyun read off of the script, not getting distracted by his friend’s antics, “And today is a very special episode.” “Special?” Jaehyun barely repressed to roll his eyes at his friend’s over-exaggerated acting before continuing: “Yes, since tomorrow is a day off for all students, we have decided to make this episode extra lengthy and-“ he shortly stopped to flash the camera a peace sign, “Viewable despite it being Thursday.” “Do we look okay?” Johnny laughed, checking himself out in the video that was playing on one of their monitors. “Aaaaah, the comments say we look good tonight, thank you,” Jaehyun mused.

And they really did. Not that either of them had to do a whole lot to look good but today they were both wearing white button-downs with their sleeves rolled up to expose their forearms. Jaehyun had even gone so far as to put on some fake glasses. “And if you’re following us on our Twitter you also already know that this week it’s all about love on our campus radio and our show today is no exception,” Johnny read his part of the script. “Today John-D and Jae-D are Loveholics, trying our very best to help you with your problems surrounding love,” Jaehyun completed, “You can send in song recommendations through the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic just like taryn1026 did – I hope I said that right – but they recommended Paris in the Rain by Lauv to set the mood for today.”

The soft tunes of the song made you relax a little into your sofa where you had chosen to watch today’s episode of NCT Night Night. You had to say that you were kind of nervous for today’s episode. Just like every week you had written your letter to Johnny, telling him about your week and cheering him on for your group project. At this point it should have been pretty obvious just who exactly you were and judging by how Johnny was acting towards you, his flirting leaving you flustered after your study sessions and your group mates mildly annoyed, he seemed to already have put together the pieces. But yesterday while writing your letter you had felt extra bold (and maybe also extra riled up and horny from Johnny’s shameless flirting) and had written him a message that should confirm all his suspicions and would hopefully lead him straight to you and into your bed. But until the end of the show or at least until they read your letter, which you really hoped they did today as well, you had to wait sitting in your apartment, for once not in comfortable clothes but in a nice shirt and pants.

“That was Paris in the Rain by Lauv, recommended to us by taryn1026 through our Twitter with the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Johnny’s raspy voice filled your apartment when he leaned close to the mic, “Jae-D are you ready to make some love happen?” “I already had my love juice,” Jaehyun answered, showing his pink Starbucks drink to the camera, “And my reading glasses are on.” As to prove his point, he hiked his glasses up his nose before scratching his eye through the holes in the frame, making both DJs chuckle. For the next hour Johnny and Jaehyun tried to solve several relationship dramas as well as a very tricky friends-with-benefits situation and telling a boy to break up with his cheating girlfriend which had been a rather heartbreaking discussion. “So after this,” Jaehyun sighed, “Let’s play another song recommendation. Burtonized has sent in a very fitting song, I hope you all don’t mind a little Korean: It’s God Damn by I.M – a song about heartbreak.”

While the foreign song was playing, the two DJs stretched their backs and sipped on their respective drinks: Jaehyun still on his pink sugar concoction and Johnny already on his second iced Americano. Jaehyun must have found something funny on his phone, nudging his friend to look at him but Johnny was busy typing away on his own, only acknowledging his friend after he had typed his message. Just after that, your own phone buzzed with a message, showing Johnny’s name on the screen.

From: Johnny Are you watching our show?

To: Johnny Sure, you look good today

From: Johnny Make sure to listen closely ;)

“That was God Damn by I.M suggested by burtonized over our Twitter hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Jaehyun’s smooth voice tore you from your spiraling thoughts about the winking face Johnny had sent. “Sadly our show is coming to an end even with our extended airtime.” “But John-D a very important letter is still missing before we close our show. Dare I say it could be the highlight of our show,” Jaehyun joked, already playing the cheesy music he was always playing when Johnny would read your letters. “You’re right Jae-D my lovely secret admirer has sent in another letter,” Johnny mused, arranging himself so he could read the printed out letter while being as close as possible to the mic for it to pick up the rasp in his voice, “Happy Thursday John-D, I hope your week has been more exciting than mine. I have just been going from class to class without much thought, the only high points are my group meetings for the group project we have to hand in soon – That seems very familiar, baby – But since today is all about love, I’ll tell you about a little problem I have: – get your love juice ready, Jae – There is this boy in my group. And boy isn’t really the right word to describe him, he’s a man really,” at that Johnny couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’ll be serious – And he is flirting with me. Has been for a couple of weeks now. And it has gotten to the point where our groupmates are kind of annoyed at us. He has also walked me home a couple of times but he never so much as touched me. At this point I am so frustrated with him. Is he just playing with me? Or is his mouth bigger than his actions actually are? He has been riling me up all day today and I was ready to let him have his way with me but he only wished me goodnight and left again, leaving me to deal with what he had done all by myself – oh wow, I,” Johnny stuttered, sharing a gaze with his friend who was only barely repressing his laughter, “Wow, okay, I hope we’re in the good for reading this out and it’s late enough,” clearing his voice and raking a hand through his hair, Johnny continued, “John-D I hope this man hears what he has done to me and will deal with the consequences of his actions. Would you play Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL for me? Just in case this letter hasn’t gotten my point across? – Y... Yeah sure, darling. We’ll play that once our show is over.”

“So John-D,” Jaehyun grinned while loudly slurping on his ‘love juice’, “What would you advice your secret admirer to do about this problem?” “Well if I were her,” Johnny started, his gaze going straight to the camera where he knew you were watching and it felt like he was looking straight into your soul, “I’d wait for him. I’m pretty sure he can prove that his actions speak even louder than his words.” For a while it was quiet between the two DJs, safe for Jaehyun’s obnoxiously loud slurping noises but even if they would have been saying anything, you weren’t sure if you could have comprehended any words with how furiously your heart was beating. “Anyways,” Jaehyun eventually broke the silence once he was sure there was nothing left in his ‘love juice’, “I’m afraid that was it for tonight. This has been your extra lengthy episode of Jae-D and John-D and we will leave you with this wonderful song recommendation: Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL. If you’ve liked today’s show, we’re here every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday night on your campus radio on 127mHz to listen to all of your worries on NCT-“ “Night Night,” Johnny joined in and they both waved into the camera as your song of choice started playing. The video stream didn’t cut off immediately, showing the boys gathering their things and if your eyes weren’t betraying you, you swore you saw Johnny tense up when the song turned a little more explicit. The two DJs waved to the camera one last time before the stream cut off, leaving the screen of your laptop dark.

That was when it dawned on you what you had done. Shit. With how Johnny had sounded, you probably had about fifteen to twenty minutes until he would be at your doorstep. Oh god. Shit. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you tried to ground yourself before hurriedly closing your laptop and cleaning everything that seemed messy in your little one-room apartment. That was until you heard a knock on your door.

With shaky hands, you slowly opened the door and while you knew who would be standing on the other side, you weren’t ready for how he was going to look like: Johnny was leaning against the doorway casually with his arms crossed over his chest so the tight button-down he was wearing would strain over the planes of his chest muscles but what really reeled you in was how dark his eyes looked when he raked them over your body. “Good evening miss,” he drawled. “Hi,” you breathed. “Tell me what you want so I’m not misinterpreting any of this,” Johnny all but growled, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. “I want you to have me.” If you thought his eyes were dark before, they turned into bottomless black orbs once the words had left your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.” “Please,” you whimpered and that seemed to break Johnny’s resolve as he pulled you close to him and all but crashed his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t delicate in any way, shape or form with how Johnny was licking into your mouth the second a moan left your lips. His tongue was intertwining with yours messily and in no time both of you were panting into each other’s mouths. “Inside. Now,” you rasped. “All with due time,” Johnny chuckled but let you pull him into your apartment, slamming the door shut to crowd you against it, one of his strong thighs slipping between your legs like it belonged there, “If you’re a good girl and listen well, I’ll give you anything you want.” “Fuck,” you cursed before slamming your lips together again, a new neediness bleeding into the kiss as you tugged on the longer strands of hair at the back of Johnny’s neck which made him growl lowly. “Anything off-limits?” Johnny breathed into your skin as he kissed down your neck to suck a mark there while his hands were busy pulling your shirt from your pants so he could rake them over your naked skin. “Just,” you had to cut yourself off with a moan, “Don’t be mean to me.” “Never,” he promised, “You’ll be my pillow princess.” His sweet words were in stark contrast to how hard his hands were gripping your hips and how his teeth were grazing over your neck that must be littered with marks already. “Take me to bed,” you heaved breathlessly, positive your legs would give out if it wasn’t for Johnny holding you up.

Listening to your demand, he slowly started walking you backwards towards your bed until the two of you were toppling down on top of the covers, his lips never leaving your skin. Whoever had spread the rumors about Johnny being a great lover had been absolutely right, he knew just how to touch you to have you gasping for air and judging by the grin on his lips he hadn’t even started yet. “Please,” you whimpered, arching into his touch, not exactly sure what exactly you were asking for but Johnny seemed to know all the better when he freed you from your top and pants to leave you in your matching lace set while he was still fully clothed in his by now wrinkled button-up and pants. “All for me?” He chuckled and pressed a kiss right between the valley of your breasts, his big hands cupping the soft flesh to squeeze it gently. “Have me,” you gasped out and you could feel the growl he let out vibrating where you were pressed together. “I’m going to ruin you,” Johnny promised, pulling down the cups of your bra to wrap his plush lips around one of your nipples to tease the soft nub until it hardened under his ministrations, sending waves of pleasure down your spine and straight to your core where you could feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your panties. “Johnny,” you mewled and arched into his every touch, his calloused fingertips setting your skin alight when he let them travel down your body to tease over your lower stomach. As if by reflex, you let your thighs fall open for him to finally touch you where you needed him the most. “Such a good girl,” he smiled, blowing cold air over your spit-slicked nipple to watch you squirm beneath him. Your remark got stuck in your throat when he finally cupped you through your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had already become. “Naughty,” he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face as he circled your clit through the fabric, watching your eyes fluttering shut when his gaze became too intense.

“Johnny,” you sighed, forgetting all other words except for his name. “Relax, princess,” he rasped and kissed his way down your body, leaving love bites on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs that shook with anticipation. If you’d say you hadn’t dreamed about his lips on you like this, you would lie and you weren’t going to miss the sight of this for nothing. Fighting back the fog that had started to cloud your mind, you forced your eyes open to look down to where he had settled between your open thighs to find him staring right back at you. “Good girl,” he praised you again before pressing a kiss over your clothed sex that made your head fall back already, the anticipation of what was to come making you push up your hips which made Johnny chuckle lowly. He didn’t leave you any time to feel embarrassed by how needy you were when he hooked your panties to the side unceremoniously and licked a broad stripe up your center, tasting your arousal. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your hands flying down to tangle them in the long strands of his hair. Johnny worked his tongue in slow and clever strokes, leaving your mind reeling with pleasure and taking his time to take you apart piece by piece, not even paying attention to your leaking center or your aching clit. But when he did wrap his lips around your clit to gently suck on the nub, your mind almost went numb with how intense his touch was, your thighs clamping shut around him. To make it even worse, he started humming around you while prying your thighs back open, holding you down with his large hands. You felt your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast now that he was altering between teasing your clit with his tongue, lips and even his teeth and fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, setting your nerve endings on fire. “Johnny I’m close,” you warned him but instead of slowing down, he stretched his jaw wide to press his tongue further into you, his nose bumping into your clit in the process and with the combined sensation and his doubled effort, it took no time for your first orgasm of the night to wash over you, a scream of his name leaving your lips as you shook through it, your mind going equally as numb as your legs.

When you came back to it, Johnny had straightened up between your legs and he was grinning down at you while he was unbuttoning his shirt, his face still shiny with your arousal. “That was the first one,” he spoke darkly. “Come here,” you whined, making grabby hands for him until he took pity on you and covered your body with his before connecting your lips in a bruising kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips but that somehow just made it even hotter.

“Want you inside me,” you panted against his lips when Johnny broke the kiss in favor of raking his teeth over your racing pulse. “Yeah?” He rasped and ground his hips down into yours, making you feel him strain against the fabric of his pants. “Need it,” you moaned at the sweet friction. “Think you can take me?” He laughed as he leaned back on his hunches to pop open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. With wide eyes you watched him push his pants down his narrow hips, leaving him in just his navy boxers that showed the sizable imprint of his hard cock, the fabric against the head dark from where he had leaked precum. Chuckling, he stroked over the outline and just the sight alone made your mouth water. “Show me,” you breathed, spreading your thighs so he could see your needy core, clenching around nothing. “Hmm,” he hummed, dragging one of his fingers that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing himself through the mess of arousal and his saliva between your legs, only barely dipping it into you to feel the muscles trying to suck him inside. “Don’t tease me,” you whined high in your throat. “But I like seeing you squirm,” Johnny grinned but took mercy on you and sunk his finger into you up to the knuckle, gently pumping it inside you. Still sensitive from how intense your last orgasm had been, you were torn between pulling away and wanting more but Johnny made the decision for you when he pulled his finger out, wiping your arousal onto your thigh.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded and finally freed his cock from his briefs. “Fuck.” The curse left your lips without even noticing at the sight of his flushed cock, too heavy to properly stand up against his toned abs. The tip was tinted red and shiny with precum that Johnny generously spread down that whole length, his eyes not leaving yours as you watched him lazily jerk himself. “Like what you see?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Want it inside me.” “Yeah? Show me.”

Throwing all caution out of the window, you quickly sucked two of your fingers between your lips before guiding them to your weeping core to slip them inside you, letting out an over-exaggerated moan as you crooked them. “Oh you’re so naughty, baby,” Johnny groaned, squeezing the base of his cock tightly as he watched you fingering yourself and if you had even one coherent thought left in your head, you’d have the decency to be embarrassed because of how intensely he was staring. “It’s not enough,” you pouted, pulling your fingers free and spreading them to look at the slick covering them, “I’m so wet for you.” “Such a dirty mouth,” he groaned, quickly grabbing his pants to fish a condom from his wallet to roll over his hard length. “Please, Johnny,” you hiccupped, winding your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. “Sssh, princess,” he soothed you, running his hands over your torso before bending down to press tender kisses to your stomach, “I’ll take care of you.” “Please kiss me.”

Dropping his elbows next to your head to support his weight, he covered your body with his and caught your lips in a kiss much too tender for your current situation, taking his time to explore your mouth until you were perfectly pliant beneath him. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered into the small space between you while he snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your core. When the head slipped in without much resistance, both of you let out twin moans of pleasure. Painstakingly slowly Johnny pushed inside you, centimeter by centimeter until his hips were flush to yours. “Breathe, princess,” he reminded you because you indeed had held your breath and had buried your nails in his biceps. “Shit, you’re big,” you cursed. “So I’ve been told,” Johnny chuckled and peppered your face and neck with little kisses while he slowly ground his hips so you could get used to him inside you.

“Move,” you demanded after a while.   “What’s the magic word baby?” He grinned. “Please, Johnny,” you whimpered, clenching down on him. “Once more.” “Don’t make me beg.” “But you sound so pretty when you do,” he chuckled, only barely moving his hips. “Johnny please,” you whined, trying your best to move on his cock on your own but the angle was just not working out. “Oh, you want to do the work?” “I want you to move,” you groaned, pawing at his chest.

“But I think you’d look so pretty riding my cock,” Johnny rasped and in one fluid movement, he had sat up and pulled you onto his lap. Shit, it felt like he was even deeper now. “Come on, princess.” Whining, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled your legs beneath you so you could lift your hips up to make his cock smoothly slide out, the friction just right before you slowly dropped back down again, earning you an appreciative groan from Johnny. “That’s right, baby,” he praised you as you slowly found a comfortable pace, swiveling your hips until the angle was just right. Tightening the grip you had on his shoulders to use it as leverage, you began riding him in earnest, impaling yourself on his cock over and over again until your head was spinning and your thighs started to burn. “Come on, doll,” Johnny grinned, catching one of your nipples between his lips. Whining, you rolled your hips faster until your thighs began shaking. “Need help?” He just grinned, his big hands holding onto your hips to help you move up and down his cock at a steadier pace. “Please Johnny,” you hiccupped, hiding your face in his neck to ground yourself, “Please fuck me.” “Am I not doing just that?” He chuckled, filthily grinding his cock inside you. “Do it right,” you panted into his skin, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” He didn’t have to tell you twice, it was almost comical how quickly you obeyed his command and arched your back for him. “Hmm, that’s it,” he praised you, tracing the curve of your spine with his hands until he reached the space between your shoulder blades where he gently pushed down to make you arch even further. “So good and pliant for me, just waiting to be filled.” “Please,” you just whined again, past the point of caring about how pathetic you sounded, begging for his cock. “Say it baby,” he demanded, slapping his cock against your wet folds. “Please fuck me Johnny. Please. I want your cock inside me so badly. Want you to fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name anymore. Please I need it. I-“ your frantic rambling got cut off by the surprised moan leaving your lips as he thrust into you without any warning. “Don’t hold back baby,” Johnny rasped before gripping your hips tightly to finally fuck you in earnest, the sound of skin slapping together loud in the otherwise silent room. “God, your ass looks amazing,” he moaned, burying himself in your tight heat over and over again, mesmerized by how his cock was glistening in the low light and how easily your body opened up for him, “You’re basically made to take my cock.” You could only mewl at his dirty words and fist the sheets tightly in your hands as you tried to meet his thrusts as best as you could while you felt like you got your soul fucked right out of you.

“Feels so good,” you slurred when you felt the familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap, clenching around Johnny’s cock. “God baby, if you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum,” Johnny cursed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up against his chest, the pace of his hips only getting faster. “Please Johnny. Want it inside,” you whined, letting him use your body how he wanted to relish in the low moans he let out. “You want me to fill you up baby?” “Want it so bad, Johnny,” you mewled. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you anything you want.” And oh god. You had never thought that the strained sound of a couple of words could be enough to actually trip you over the edge but the rasp in Johnny’s voice had you falling apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it had your thighs shaking. “Such a good girl,” Johnny praised you before he let out a low guttural moan and fucked into you once – then twice – before his hips came to a halt, emptying his cum inside the condom.

For a while you two just panted loudly before Johnny gently laid you back down onto the mattress, chuckling lowly when you whined at the loss of his cock. “Shit,” you giggled while he quickly got rid of the condom, throwing it in the general direction of your trashcan. So tender you could have missed it, Johnny pressed a row of kisses down your spine until he reached the swell of your ass. “Cuddle me,” you pouted, making grabby hands at him. “We’re sweaty, princess,” he laughed but gave in when you kept pouting. “I don’t care,” you whined, fitting your head beneath his, wrapping your arms and legs around his body to cling to him like a koala. “You’re cute,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For how long did you know?” “Know what?” Johnny asked, clearly confused. “That I was your secret admirer.” “I didn’t.” “It was so obvious,” you groaned. “Okay maybe I got a hunch after we started that group project. But you never said anything.” “What was I supposed to say? Oh Johnny, by the way, I’m the one who has been writing you cringey love letters for like half a year already. Please go out with me?” That made Johnny laugh, the sound melodic in the quiet of your room. “I would have said yes, you know?” He spoke lowly, “I’ll miss your letters.” “What makes you think I will stop writing them?” “Because you can tell me all that stuff in person now when we go on dates.” “We’ll go on dates?” “That’s what people do when they like each other, princess,” Johnny chuckled, “And I really like you. Both as my secret admirer and my classmate.” “Oh my god stop,” you whined, hiding your hot face in his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden while Johnny was just laughing.

“I like you too,” you eventually mumbled once it had gotten quiet again. “I figured,” he teased you. “I changed my mind,” you immediately shot back, rising from where you were cuddled into his chest but every other protest died on your tongue when you saw his dreamy expression, his honey eyes finding yours and completely ignoring the fact that you were still very much naked. “Date me,” he said. “Okay,” you answered, easily meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that wouldn’t be the last one you two shared tonight.

“Hello and welcome back, that was Middle Of The Night by Monsta X, suggested to us by raibebe through our Twitter with the hashtag JonJaeLoveTalk. We’re your DJ’s John-D.” “And Jae-D on NCT Night Night. Hello again to all of our listeners. John-D.” “Yes Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Something is off today. I looked through our mail and there was no letter from your secret admirer.” “Oh really,” he feigned surprise. “Either they didn’t send anything in or our director got sick of the pining.” “I can calm you right back down Jae-D,” Johnny smiled, “Because she simply doesn’t need to send any more letters. I finally found her.” “No way. For real? And you didn’t tell me? I have to find out through our radio show? Friendship is dead,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Jae-D you know you’ll always be the number one in my heart, you know that.” At that Jaehyun let out fake gagging noises that made both friends chuckle.

“No but for real. I finally found her and asked her out. It’s going great so yeah,” Johnny shrugged, “In case you’re listening baby: I’m dropping by later and bring sushi.” “This is so domestic already,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically, “Where is my secret admirer?” “Maybe you could find love as well if you stopped acting like the textbook example of a frat boy.” “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Smiling, you leaned back on your sofa and listened to your boyfriend bickering with his best friend. Boyfriend. That sounded good even though it still felt unreal. Love Letters weren’t dead after all it seemed.

[lifeofa-fangirl]

Enough Nothings

Pairing: Damiano x fem!reader

Summary: You and Damiano bond over the idea of a quiet night in

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff

A/N: I saw an instagram post from the Late Late Show where James Corden talks about how he met his wife and my mind went haywire thinking that this would be such a Damiano thing to do. Written in an hour or so, not proof read. First fic in years, let me know what you think! 

“Oh come on, having a little bit of fun won’t hurt you! Here, have a glass of wine, it might help you relax. And remember to enjoy this evening, you deserve it!”

 Before you could protest, your boss had grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter’s tray and shoved it in your hand. You opened your mouth, but before any words were formed, she gave you an encouraging pat on the back and disappeared into the crowd to mingle.

 You sighed as you watched her start to make the rounds, shaking hands left and right. She made it seem so effortless it almost made you jealous. Almost. Because as much as you appreciated her effort, appreciated that she had insisted you deserved a night out after all the hard work you put in for the charity organization, you still felt this was the last place you wanted to be right now. You would always prefer a quiet night in, cooking dinner and falling asleep in front of the television.

 Another sigh and you finally took a sip of your wine. ‘Come on, you can do this,’ you told yourself as you remembered you did enjoy the taste of the drink in your hand, although you rarely took the opportunity to enjoy it. ‘You’re not even 30 yet, you should be out and about every night. This can be a fun Friday night. Don’t be a party pooper.’

 You almost choked on your next sip of wine as you heard those exact five last words being repeated out loud behind you. Coughing, you turned around in surprise. You would recognize that voice and that Italian accent anywhere.

 “Victoria!” you said as soon as you confirmed your suspicion.

 Victoria De Angelis spun around on her heels when she heard her name being called. “Ah, there you are! We’ve been looking for you!” she cheerfully announced. As she pulled you into a hug, you realized she wasn’t alone. You also realized that her words hadn’t been directed at you, but at the man accompanying her. You recognized the singer of her band.

 “This is Damiano, the singer of my band,” Victoria confirmed when she stepped back from hugging you. You nodded your hello as Victoria introduced you to Damiano in return. You only heard half of her explanation about how she met you when the band had stayed in London for a couple of months, and you worked for the organization that was hosting that night’s charity event. You were too distracted by the way the man in front of you was staring at you with the beginning of a smirk.

 Damiano patiently waited for Victoria to finish and then accepted the hand you offered him, pulling it up to his lips without hesitation and pressing a small kiss to it. “Hi, pleasure to meet you. You might be the most beautiful woman in the world,” he greeted you, all the while never breaking eye contact.

 “Well thank you very much.” You offered him a smile in return and slightly twisted your head to the side to give him calculating look before adding, “That sounds like something you say a lot.”

 “I’ve never said it before in my life,” he shot back at you. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he spoke and that smirk never left his lips, but you also didn’t miss the sudden rosy tint on his cheeks.

 He could easily be feeding you lies, but somehow you were inclined to believe him. You didn’t offer a verbal response, choosing to shoot him an bright smile instead. Judging by his reaction, it did nothing to hide the matching tint that you were sure was now also on your own cheeks. Was it just you, or had someone suddenly turned up the thermostat?

 Not much later, Victoria had disappeared, most likely off getting into trouble. And you sat with Damiano in a dark corner of the bar. Getting tipsy on the sound of his laugh and how his touch gave you goosebumps. It was so easy to be around him. Within an hour and a half of meeting you were jokingly planning the rest of your lives together. Kids were a must, at least two of them, so they’d always have each other. Legolas and Bidet, he had already named his cats, and you insisted that the new kitten would be called Loki. The flower beds in your garden would contain many different flowers, so there would be something blossoming every season. Your bedroom needed a balcony, so he could serenade you from below. And you would need a big kitchen, with plenty of room for all the home cooked meals you were going to prepare.

 You found comfort in how he loved the prospect of a quiet night in. Glorious, he called it, the thought of chamomile tea and going to bed before eleven. You had quickly agreed, told him that at your age, you had very much passed the notion of going out every night. He was a couple of years younger than you but took it as a compliment when you teasingly called him an old soul in a young body.

 You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Victoria eventually showed up again. “Time to call it a night, lovebirds,” she teased you both with a grin. When you finally tore your eyes away from Damiano for the first time in a long while, you realized that there were only a couple of people left in the bar and the waiters had already started cleaning up.

 As the three of you stood outside waiting for a cab, the cold night air did nothing to get rid of Victoria’s words. Lovebirds, she had called you. Away from the secluded, quiet corner of the bar, you were starting to feel anything but, and much more like a fool. The harsh streetlights burned your confidence away and you just stood there, silently waiting as Victoria chatted away besides you. Sneaking glances at Damiano, trying to memorize the sharpness of his jawline, the glimmer of the tiny golden ring piercing his nostril, the brown of his eyes, convinced that you weren’t going to see him again.

 When your rides arrived, Victoria gave a quick side hug and a “We’ll talk later” before jumping into the first cab to get away from the cold night air as fast as possible, leaving you and Damiano alone on the sidewalk.

 You took a deep breath to gather your courage and were about to pull in Damiano for a hug as well, when you realized he didn’t seem to have any intention to move. Instead, he stood next to you, staring at the pavement and fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

 “Damiano?” you wondered, carefully reaching out to touch his arm, trying to figure out why he looked like a nervous child suddenly.

 Damiano looked up at you when you called out his name. His nervousness reflected in his eyes and he bit his lip when he just stared at you for a moment. Then, with a steadiness in his voice that surprised you, he said, “I was wondering… Well… what about tomorrow, we do nothing together. You could come over to my place and we could just do nothing. And then maybe we could stay in and do nothing on Sunday as well. And on Monday, we can go to work and afterwards we can do nothing if you’d like. And I’m thinking that if we do enough nothings, if our evenings are enough of nothing, then maybe this can become something.”

 “What do you think?” he asked as he looked at you hopefully. And while he looked so very young under the streetlights, his old soul had just pulled you in. This was it. You were in. And by an absolute miracle, so was he. “That sounds like a fun idea,” you told him with a smile.

 He beamed at your answer, before the both of you got distracted by Victoria shouting for him to hurry his ass up and get in the cab.

 “Go!” You gave him a slight push towards the car. “She has my number, text me the details for your plan,” you told him with a wink.

 Damiano was about halfway to the car and you were about to walk over to the other ride, when he turned and came running back only to stop in front of you. Before you could react, he had put a hand on your cheek, and used the other to pull you close. The next moment his lips were on yours in a gentle kiss.

 The moment was over almost before you fully realized what was happening. “See you tomorrow, bella ragazza mia,” he whispered against your lips before running off towards his ride again.

 You watched in stunned silence as their cab drove off. Left with the tingling feeling of where Damiano’s lips had just been and the exciting promise of nothing ahead.  

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #3 - Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles

Word Count: 1912

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, erm…a Relationship that You Want to Happen but Know Never Will

Setting/Characters: The first part of Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014 after Steve’s hostage mission; Reader, Steve Rogers, mentions of Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and Nick Fury

A/N: This…isn’t what I thought it was gonna turn out to be. But I like it, it’s cute, and I needed something pure with the shield after that ending scene, so I’m posting it.

I have a few more One Shots planned that take place during TWS so I’ll be writing those today and tomorrow. This week is a lot less hectic than last week (I was being trained in another area of my job last week, hence crazy hours), so expect more One Shots coming this week. Again, I’m trying to post them chronologically, but there might be some out of order depending on what you guys request and when, which is totally fine!

For today, I have the Reader meeting Sam (which is kinda what this was supposed to be, but…oh well) and more about the notebook planned. Also Reader meeting Bucky unofficially for the first time because he’s, you know, brainwashed and stuff. Later this week I’m planning on AoU stuff which will include the Party Scene and Wanda interactions.

If I can get through those by Friday when the new episode comes out, I’ll start on CA:CW which will include Reader officially meeting Bucky and possibly the airport scene if you guys are interested in that. Then I’ve got some Wakanda scenes and some Peter interactions. If not, I’ll start CW:CA next Sunday. Once the backstory is set up and completed chronologically, I might go back and just write some drabbles and stuff of random moments - kinda like this one. 

I did get a request earlier for Bucky’s perspective on the dancing scene in Part 4.2, so I’m planning on doing more rewrites of scenes in Bucky’s perspective, but that’ll come after the One Shots, so hopefully next week.

I think that’s all…umm…yeah. Once again, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you so much for reading! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying this almost as much as I am! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy reading and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

The beeping of the timer made you groan and set down the book you were digging into. You were just starting to get to the good part, but the food smelled so good, so you decided it could wait.

You were so focused on your task of getting your breakfast ready that you didn’t hear your front door open or the footsteps that followed it shutting, the thud of boots hitting the floor just around the corner. Setting the ready food on the counter, you jumped at the arms that wrapped around your shoulders and waist.

“Shouldn’t you be more observant for a spy?”

You gave a hum at his deep voice, tilting your head slightly as he placed his cheek on your shoulder, nose pressing up against the column of your throat. “Shouldn’t you be heading over to the Triskelion for your debriefing with Fury?”

He growled at the mention of the mission he was just sent on yesterday morning. The first few assignments he had surprised you with how quick they were over, but then you remembered yours were a bit different than his and you got used to him being back within the next couple days.

“We don’t have secrets right? I’m so fucking tired of secrets.”

Your eyebrow quirked up as you turned to face him, his hands slipping down to your hips. You took in his state; he was still in uniform, dirt on his face, hair unruly, the shield on his back gray with the dust that covered it. He obviously hadn’t even gone to his own place yet, meaning he just got back. “What happened?”

He huffed, letting go of you to rub his face tiredly. “Natasha. She didn’t tell me that Fury sent her to do something other than what we were supposed to be doing.”

“They’re spies, bubs. It’s what they do.”

“You’re a spy. You wouldn’t do that.”

Chuckling a little at his comparison, you shook your head. “Our relationship is a little…different than yours and Nat’s.”

“I wish they’d put you on my missions. I don’t know why they don’t. We work well together, don’t we?”

You snorted. “That’s probably the reason.” At his confused look, you shook your head. “Never mind. Just…we’re closer. I know you better than they do. You can’t compare them to me. It isn’t fair.”

He grumbled, eyes glancing down to your feet. “They still should’ve told me.”

“Hey,” you tilted his head back up to meet your gaze. “It was a hostage mission, right?” He nodded. “Did you save the hostages?” Another nod, which made you shrug. “Then there you go. You did your job and you saved people. It was a success. That’s all that matters.”

“He got away.” Steve argued. “He got away because she didn’t feel the goddamn need to tell me-”

“She was following orders. Don’t be mad at her.”

“You’re right.” His quick admission stunned you for a moment, until he continued speaking. “It’s Fury’s fault. I think I’m gonna go-”

He started moving away, but you tugged him back, shaking your head again. “Not yet, bubba. You can talk to him later. Let’s get you cleaned up first. Then we’ll eat and you can tell me how that run you went on yesterday was. Okay?”

His features softened and he nodded, setting his forehead against yours. “Okay.”

You had half of your dresser sectioned off for Steve’s things. SHIELD had moved him to DC about a year previous to be closer to HQ, especially after the Helicarrier became decommissioned for repairs. You already had an apartment in DC - it was where you stayed for the most part, hence the reason you were more than willing to stay in New York for a couple years. 

The moment he moved in about ten minutes from you, you knew, just like in DC, he’d be spending a lot of time at your place. Which is why you made the executive decision to have him bring a bag over one night and unpack his stuff.

It wasn’t the first shower he took at your place and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

While he was cleaning up, you got to work washing his suit and the shield. You teased him by saying you’d just throw his suit in the washer and the shield in the dishwasher, but you wouldn’t actually.

His suit was air drying by the window and you were at the sink scrubbing off the shield, wishing you had a backyard and a hose, when he padded back into the room, hair plastered to his forehead, dripping down his temples, sweats and a t-shirt clinging to his body. He shook his head, leaning on the counter besides you. You always found it amusing how big he looked in your tiny kitchen.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You scoffed. “If you think I’m gonna let you walk around in that disgusting thing all day, you, my friend, are nuts.”

He chuckled, moving behind you and setting his chin on your shoulder, his larger hands stopping yours from their movements. “At least let me do this, then.” He murmured, taking the scrub brush from you, spreading the bubbles over the rings of the shield.

“You can help me. But I like finishing what I started.” You whispered back, reaching for a clean rag and dunking it into the soapy water, wiping down the star in the middle.

He placed a gentle kiss to your jaw, relenting easily. “Fine.”

You two worked in silence, the water running over the shield, taking the dirt and grime with it, hands occasionally brushing each other. Almost finished, Steve placed his hand over yours, moving it over to a certain spot. “The brush won’t get it.” He explained, his low voice sounding right beside your ear.

Smiling, you turned your head to look at him. There was a crease between his brow as he concentrated on getting rid of the smudge on the precious metal. Your lips turned up when you noticed a dark spot on his jaw he must’ve missed. He looked at you with a grin when you started giggling. “What’s got you giggling so pretty, honey?”

Letting go of the side of the shield you were holding, you reached up to wipe the dirt on his jaw that he missed with your thumb. “Can’t let that handsome face of yours get stained. And, speaking of stains,” you turned back to the shield, holding it up for the both of you to look at, the soft light from the window above the sink making it shine even more. “You think we got it all?”

“Hmmm. I think you missed a spot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Where?”

He leaned closer to the shield, face right besides yours, cheeks practically brushing together. “Right…here.” His hand that you didn’t notice cupping water, came up and splashed your face.

You let out a shriek, stepping back, further into his chest, your jaw dropped. “Steven! My pjs!”

He cackled, leaning back and holding his chest, before gasping when you did the same thing back to him. “You’re on!” He grabbed his shield and filled it with water, making you squeak and try getting out of his hold. Stupid Super Soldier strength. He dumped it on you, water falling on your head, sliding down your back and making your pajamas stick to you. You quickly retaliated, grabbing the facet and turning it towards him, laughing at his shout.

The water fight continued for a few more minutes, bowls and cups coming into play, with Steve diving behind the counter and you slipping on the floor.

“Woah, there, honey!” He chuckled, the chortles coming from your lips reassuring him that you weren’t hurt. He leaned over you, reaching his hand out. “You okay?”

You nodded, taking his hand. “Let’s call it a truce, yeah?”

“Truce? Hell no! I won!”

“You did not! You just got lucky!”

He pulled you up, tugging you close. “Alright, alright. Fine. A truce. Let’s get you into some dry clothes, now. Don’t want you gettin’ sick, honey.”

You shook your head. “That’s actually a myth.”

“I’ll take note of that.”

An eyebrow of yours raised. “In that little notebook you never let me read?”

He smiled innocently. “Maybe. I added something else yesterday.” He informed you while tugging you down the hall to your room.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man Soundtrack.”

You hummed with an approving nod. “Yeah. That was a good suggestion. Who gave it to you?’

“This guy I met on my run.” He shrugged, heading over to his dresser as you grabbed a couple towels. “Sam Wilson. He seemed like a good guy.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, grabbed another set of sweats and a shirt, before turning to you and taking the towel you handed him. “Yeah. He served two tours in Afghanistan. Now he’s working down at the VA. Told me to drop by sometime.”

“Aww.” You stood on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “My bubba’s all grown up and making friends.”

He rolled his eyes, ducking away from your hand and running his own through his hair. “Yeah, yeah.” His smile dropped as he looked at the clothes in his hand. “I think I’m gonna head out now. I should talk to Fury.”

You frowned. “You have all day, Steve. Just eat first, okay?”

“Okay.”

He was holding something back, you could tell. Picking out your clothes for the day, you decided to question him about it. “What’re you thinking about?”

Your backs turned to each other, you started changing, just as you’d down countless times before. “I was thinking about going to the Air and Space Museum again. If you wanna come.”

“You know I do.”

It was quiet for a few more minutes, only the sound of rustling clothes and zippers filling the air. “I-I think I’m gonna go after. To see her, I mean.”

You froze, keeping your heart and your breathing steady so he wouldn’t pick up on anything. “It’ll be good for you. She…she always knows what to say.”

“So do you.”

You cleared your throat, finishing with the final touches of your outfit. “I actually forgot that I have some stuff to finish up at HQ today, so I dunno if I’ll be able to go-”

His hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around, eyes pleading and face fallen. “Please. Please come with me. Honey. I need you there. With me. Please.”

You inwardly cursed yourself for falling for those puppy eyes, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “Okay, bubs. I’ll come with you.” You might regret it later, but the relief that washed over his features was worth it for now. The power he had over you scared you, especially since you knew he didn’t realize the hold he had on you, but you couldn’t help it. It happened quickly, swiftly, and you were down before you recognized it. And you didn’t know how to deal with it other than taking it one day at a time.

“Let’s go get some breakfast, now. I can promise it’s at least decent.”

The beam he shot you made your heart flutter no matter how hard you tried keeping calm. “I’m sure it’s better than anything I could ever make.” He pulled you close, lips brushing over your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You sighed, leaning your head against his, eyes closing.

“Existing.”

***********

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All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​

@bibliophilewednesday​

[thermopylod]

It’s been a while, huh? I finally finished a little Souyo fic I started almost 2 years ago. 5k words, T-rated. I hope you all enjoy it--it’s probably the last fic I’ll write in this fandom, but I’ll never stop loving Souyo 💗 “So, what’s in the bottle, Yu?”

Yu spun the small vial around by the chain it hung on, holding it up to the light so the emerald liquid inside shimmered. Squinting, he bit his lip and took a deep breath as he focused; there was a trick to this, a little like trying to see an optical illusion, one of those spinning images that could be mentally reversed with just the right… Ah, there.

“Truth.”

Chie raised an eyebrow at his concise answer, and he laughed softly before elaborating. “Well, not truth itself. Something related to it. Maybe a truth serum of some kind? Though, I’m not sure what a Shadow was doing carrying that around…”

Rise hummed, looking over their notes from the day’s fighting. “That reminds me a little of those sedatives we got off the Trance Twins back in Yukiko’s castle. Remember? You said they made you feel… ‘sanity,’ I think it was.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s definitely some sort of mental-impairment remedy, but I don’t remember us getting hit by any new status effects. Do you?”

Rise flipped through her notebook. “Hm, nope. Well, we only got the one, right? You should save it, maybe we’ll need it later.”

Yu nodded and slid the truth serum, if that was what it was, into one of the many inner pockets of his TV world supply bag, before they moved on to discussing how Yukiko’s new improved fire attack could best be used for their next excursion.

The vial stayed in the bag, unused, for many months afterwards. In fact, Yu entirely forgot its existence until early February. On a particularly snowy Sunday, Yu, trapped at home, decided to clean up his now-unused TV world equipment. He’d emptied and sorted all the supplies in his bag, and was about to put the bag itself through the wash when he heard a clinking sound. After five minutes of searching through empty pockets—there truly was such a thing as too much organisation—he found the vial, remembering that they’d saved it in case it might come in handy later. Now that he thought about it, perhaps it would have been useful during Namatame’s interrogation, or with Adachi, but they’d figured things out fine without it. He set it aside for now, figuring he’d sell it at Shiroku along with the rest of the leftover supplies, and continued his cleaning.

To his surprise, Old Lady Shiroku refused to take the serum from him.

“This may yet come in handy to you, young man,” she told him with a twinkle in her eye as she pushed it back across the counter.

Not for the first time, Yu wondered who this woman truly was. There was more to her than a casual shopkeeper-turned-midnight-bartender; how else would she have known where to find Goho-Ms and Vanish Balls, known what they were called even, when outside the TV world they resembled nothing but shiny overpriced marbles? He’d asked once, and she’d only winked at him and held a finger up to her lips. “You should know a lady never tells, darling,” she’d replied, and the next time he’d gone shopping all her prices had gone up a hundred yen. Yu wasn’t an idiot. He hadn’t asked again.

So when she left the vial on the counter and ignored his confused look, he took it back without any further questions. It wasn’t as though he was hurting for money, and it was a rather pretty bottle if nothing else; it would look nice on the shelf over his desk.

The bottle looked nice on said shelf for approximately three days, until Teddie, invited over by Nanako, bounced into his room one afternoon and spotted it.

“Sensei! Can I have this?” he asked as he snatched it up, turning puppy dog eyes on Yu.

Yu knew better than to fall for the look, but he didn’t see anything wrong with letting Teddie have the potion if it made him happy. Maybe something about its link to the TV world appealed to him, or maybe he just liked how it looked; Teddie did have a certain fascination for shiny, pretty things.

“Sure,” Yu replied as he gently ushered him back downstairs before he could touch anything else in his room. He’d had to spend a good two hours doing damage control after the last time he’d visited, when he’d smashed two of his models together because, “They’re fighting, Sensei! That’s what they’re made for!”

He’d thought that was the last he would hear of that small bottle, but unfortunately, it showed up again a very short time later. The entire Investigation Team was gathered in a large reception room at the Amagi Inn, which they’d hijacked for a sleepover party. The guys had just finished relaxing in the hot springs, and everyone was sitting around on pillows chatting while waiting for the girls’ turn. Then they would have dinner, gracefully provided by the inn, and after that probably stay up way too late telling ghost stories that would make Yukiko giggle and Chie and Yosuke scream. Yu smiled as he leaned back on his hands and looked at the ceiling, a bit of a bittersweet feeling coursing through him. He only had a scant month of this left to enjoy, and then it would be back to the city for him—and for all that Yosuke kept making plans for them to go to university together, for all that Rise and Naoto would be moving back there too, well… he was still going to miss this, right here. Everyone, together under one roof, with nothing more important to think about than school and what they’d do next weekend.

He pushed himself back upright, and all his nostalgic feelings fled in an instant as he saw Teddie jump to his feet with a mischievous expression that he’d learned was always followed by a very bad idea.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

[read the rest on ao3!]

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

[sunflovverharry]

Friends with Benefits - Chapter 3

a/n: hiii, sorry it’s been a while since I posted chapter 2, but I’m finally back with chapter 3! It’s a bit shorter, but an important one. will hopefully be writing a lot more now that exams are almost over :)) anyways, enjoy this chapter and please feel free to tell me what you think and reblog <3 pairing: police officer!h + Alex word count: 5k warnings: it’s pretty clear from now there will be language, alcohol consumption, smut and trouble with body image in basically every chapter so from now i’ll only write M (mature)

Seemingly, both Harry and I had gotten what we wanted out of each other. Two breathtaking fucks and the intimate moments after where we cuddled and basked in the afterglow of the sex.

It really wasn’t enough for me though. He was like an addiction and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him. Not that I have a way of contacting him or meeting him except meeting him at the bar again - if we even go at the same time. As he has said; he isn’t one to party a lot nor go clubbing too often. We both spend most of our time at work and it seems like we don’t mind that.

Saying goodbye the Sunday morning two weeks ago I thought it would be the last time we’d meet. Now, standing in the same club as always, staring into Harry’s eyes I couldn’t let the smile grazing my lips go. It was as if all my hopes and dreams were heard when Harry gave back the same smile and made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand up in the air so I could see over the bodies between us. Grabbing my pint of beer, I left the bar and swiftly made my way over to where Harry was sitting. The group I was with had just entered the club and they were still at the bar waiting for their drinks as I didn’t say a word when I walked off.

Harry was seated at the end of a booth close to the corner, his back turned to his mates as I came to stand in between his thighs to be able to hear each other over the loud music blasting over the speakers. I took a drink of the beer before sitting it down next to what I assumed was Harry’s pint.

“Hi, pet. You alright?” Harry placed a soft kiss to my cheek in greeting as he basically screamed into my ear. I leaned away to look at him while giving him a small shake of my head, yeah, I was just fine. He looked smashing in his colourful button-up missing a couple buttons at the top, making me see the top of his butterfly tattoo when I let my eyes gaze down to take him in.

“You celebrating or something?” I took a quick sweep over the rest of the table he was with and there was an expensive bottle of champagne being passed between them. Not the most sanitary or anything, but who was I to judge when I’d definitely done the same when I was drunk. Who exchanged spit and drinks with who, weren’t on the top of our heads when we were drunk and only wanted to get more drunk I guess.

“Nah, the mate who broke it off with his girl some weeks ago dragged us out and he’s making them down everything he buys. I’m driving today though, so only a pint for me. What’re you doing here again?” His hands were dangerously close to the tops of my thighs as they held me close and his thumb pressed patterns in my skin. I was wearing a skirt and a quite revealing top tonight, though not expecting to meet anyone, especially Harry. Maybe in the back of my mind I thought there was a possibility as this is the place we’ve met both times - and now a third.

«Oh, good to see he’s doing alright then. Just here to have a couple pints, didn’t wanna get too drunk or stay out too long tonight. Have quite a lot of paperwork to get through this weekend.» Harry groaned when I mentioned work, not wanting to think about it for tonight I guess. I didn’t really want to think about it either.

«Don’t remind me. I have to go in at six for a couple hours to finish a report, but then I’m off for about a week thank god.» He finished off with a smile thinking about some - I’d say well earned - days off.

«Well then, to celebrate that, how about we go back to yours to have an even better time than we’ll have here?» It was bold of me and I knew it, but that’s how it had been since the first time we met. I took initiative and went in full force and there were absolutely no regrets.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth as he dwelled over what I’d proposed. There was a slight shimmer to his eyes as he moved his head back to get a good look at me. I didn’t mind his eyes travelling over my body, only enjoying how he didn’t hold back from showing me he liked what he saw. It gave me the last bit of confidence I felt I needed being with a man like Harry.

Not giving a verbal answer, he took one last drink of his pint before getting off the leather seat. His hands turned my body around, settling on my hips as he walked us straight past the bar and made our way outside. The parking lot he’d left his car in was on the other side, quickly jogging over the road when no cars were coming.

It was a lovely night, warm and just humid enough to not break out in a sweat. Perfect start of summer weather. His car was nice and looked expensive at first glance. The inside was clean, no dirty napkins or bottles on the floor. He must take good care of it cause most other lads’ cars I’ve been in haven’t been nearly as clean as Harry’s. I gather that he doesn’t want to talk about it when he doesn’t even look at me to see what kind of reaction I had to it.

«You drove here when you could've walked the fifteen minutes? That’s lazy of you, mr. police officer.» I hadn’t used the nickname last time and I missed it. Harry didn’t exactly seem to mind it either as he took in a harsh breath after hearing it. Even more of a boost for me.

«I thought I would have to drive my mates home as they clearly are getting wasted out of their minds.» Of course he was the sensible one of the group, he’s a fucking police officer. Knowing how he cares for his friends and has his life set makes me feel a bit angry at myself. Why did I have to get an obsession over someone I’d never be enough for? «And to be honest, I’m glad it’ll get us home quicker cause I’m already bulging after you calling me that, pet.» I only giggled and looked out the window, not wanting to be caught staring at him.

The car ride went by in silence after that. The quick five minutes were agonizingly slow and I couldn’t stop thinking about getting to feel Harry again. It made my thighs clamp together to try and get some sort of friction to satisfy me.

Having parked the car, both of us jumped out and almost ran to the door wanting nothing more than to get inside and rip our clothes off. God I can’t wait to feel his achingly perfect cock inside me for a third time. I should probably try to forget about him after this time, knowing we’ll stop seeing each other at the club as often during the summer as I’m planning to be gone for most of it anyways.

«I’ve been dreaming of meeting you again. Honestly can’t get you out of my head, pet.» Harry seemed a little hazy as he quietly let the words tumble out of his pretty pink lips I still haven’t got to taste tonight. Good thing it’s only just passed ten and we have all night to enjoy each others taste.

«Shut up and kiss me already.» He closed the short distance between us as he pulled me to him, front against front. His rough grip on my waist made me grow more want for him. Maybe he finally realized after last time that I wanted it rough though I might come off as someone who wants to take control. I don’t mind but god do I like being thrown around at times and Harry did it really fucking well.

My bottom lip was between his in a second, sucked into his mouth and left his lips with a pop. I couldn’t help but already pant at the anticipation and need for him. My lips were slightly open, ready for Harry to slam his lips back on mine and tongue taste the inside of my mouth, licking into it. He didn’t waste a single moment on teasing me or waiting till I couldn’t anymore - dominating the kiss before we even touched lips nevermind tongues.

It made my stomach turn in excitement for the night and lust for the man in front of me. There weren’t any sparks, most likely because we didn't even know each other besides the basics. Well, not even the basics - not even knowing his age. Names and workplace are the only two things we’ve told the other. It felt fucking good having this platonic stranger with benefits. I guess that’s what I would put us as? There were no feelings ruining things or other people's opinions as we were still strangers.

«I want you to cum in my mouth this time.» I barely managed to get the words out of my mouth as Harry was too eager to get his mouth on mine. When he heard what I said though, it was like his eyes got darker and his grip tightened around me showing how much he also wanted that without saying it.

Feeling his tongue get familiar with my mouth again was intoxicating, making me want to make out with him for hours on end. I wouldn’t mind if we dropped sleeping and just moved our lips together until the sun rises.

«You wanna.. upstairs?» Harry was already breathless, either because he knows what he’s getting or because of the kiss. I hummed in response, guiding us to the stairs leading up to his room. If this is going to go how I want it to, I’ll want to be comfortable and though the couch was good, his bed is the best option.

I trusted Harry to be careful and considerate but also push limits which was exactly what was needed tonight. No ‘are you sure’ or ‘i don’t want to hurt you’ talk, just straight to it. No, I wouldn’t get to feel his length inside me - unless he thickens up again right after which I doubt - but maybe before he has to head out. Maybe his fingers will suffice for tonight.

«You’re going to fuck my mouth, officer, and I’m gonna take it like the good girl I am.» There was no point in not being direct from the start, teasing unnecessary and unwanted from both sides. He looked like I told his biggest dream was coming true as he bit his lip and rolled his eyes back as he tried to collect himself for a moment. My fingers danced over his neck and shoulders before tugging his shirt over his head.

«Lay down. Head this way, pet.» The pet name he had called me since we first met had grown increasingly on me and I couldn’t imagine being called anything else. Following his orders I got on the bed, facing him, head almost dangling off the bed. It was risky to let him take control over my airways, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

There was no doubt he was hard and ready to burst if he just got a little lick to his slit, but there is also no doubt he’ll hold out for as long as he can. Leaning down, he slotted our lips together in a more than messy kiss that was hard to navigate as we were upside down. His hands caressed my cheeks before moving to pull my top down, letting my tits spill out on top. I knew he liked them and since depriving himself for longer than needed last time, he was making up for it this time. Pinching my nipples he got a moan out of me telling him to keep going. I loved when my tits were played with, the sensitivity a great feature.

My fingers trailed down his sides languidly, feeling his abs flex at the sensation. Gripping the front of the trousers he was clad in, I somehow managed to open it up before pulling it down along with his briefs as far as I could. Harry moaned into my mouth as his cock freed from restraint and I got my hands on it only tugging lightly.

Biting my bottom lip he pulled away to make sure I was comfortable where I laid before shuffling the few centimeters closer so his tip rested on my lips. I was excited to taste him again and to feel his impressive length down my throat. It being something I don’t usually do unless I trust the person or really want to.

He left it to me to take him in and start licking and sucking him deeper into my mouth which I gladly did. Starting with a kitten lick to his slit he groaned and twisted my nipple between his fingers at the feeling of finally being touched where he needed it. I closed my lips around his tip focusing on sucking it and licking around it, but knowing he’s sensitive already I put my hands on his hips trying to get him to move closer. Feeling the welcome weight on my tongue as his cock drove deeper into my mouth, stopping at the start of my throat, I sucked and bobbed my head only slightly as it was hard to move in my position. Not yet knowing exactly what he likes in terms of blowjobs, I listened for sounds he’d let out or if he rutted his hips more at something I did.

«Fuck that’s it.» He murmured before letting out the loudest moan I’ve heard as I helped him go deeper, reaching down my throat. I liked the sensation, knowing I - or Harry - could control something so dangerous as my breathing.

Harry began thrusting his hips more, guiding his cock himself down my throat, keeping still for a second before letting me breath and doing it again. I removed my hands from his hips, wanting him to take full control and let them lay flat on the bed. It was intoxication listening to him pleasure himself with my mouth, only making me wetter by each groan.

«Shit- oh god!» It was as if he was losing his sense to keep himself at bay, the feeling of being down my throat too good. I didn’t mind, loving the fact that he felt comfortable enough to completely be himself for me.

Harry fucking my mouth was intense, the feeling of him pushing his cock as far down my throat as possible, cutting my airways for seconds at a time made me dizzy and want to succumb to every need of his right this moment. I loved laying there, taking everything he gave me without the ability to stop him except if I really needed to of course.

There was no need to stop though. He knew exactly when it was enough and pulled out and when I could take more.

«Agh.. Your mouth feels so fucking good Alex-» It was like he didn’t quite know how to express himself, too far gone in his own head. «I’m gonna cum.. Mmh, you want it down your throat, pet?» Even when he was gone he still called me pet and I reveled in it. It made me smile around him, but quickly going back to shutting my lips around him as he was back to only putting the tip in. I sucked and licked at his slit wanting him to get his release. It didn’t take much before he was shooting ropes after ropes down my throat, moaning as he filled up my mouth with his cum.

I’m sure I had tear streaks down from my eyes to my temples, but to be honest I hadn’t paid attention to anything except Harry’s cock in my mouth for the entire time. I enjoyed it just as much as he did.

«Fucking hell, pet.» Harry’s slowly softening length slipped out between my lips and I opened my mouth to show him his work before swallowing all of it. He groaned at the sight and bent over to catch my lips for a sweet kiss mustering up the little energy he had left before falling on the bed right beside me.

Laying next to each other trying to catch our breaths, Harry’s fingers delicately trailed up and down my thigh laying next to his torso. It felt nice to have the cuddly, cute aftercare I so badly craved for with every other lad who only wanted me gone after emptying inside me. Which is mostly the reason I began only letting them cum on my tits or arse. It was a fair deal I thought, seeing as a lot of them didn’t even get me off.

His chest was still somewhat heaving, begging for more air when I sat up dizzy from the blood coming to my head and not regaining my breath completely either. His eyes opened to see if I was going anywhere. I was still fully clothed, only my tits hanging out next to a naked Harry who seemed to have kicked his pants off all the way. His cock laid slack against his thigh, tired from the intense orgasm.

«Did you enjoy that?» I don’t know why I felt like asking this time. My confidence was always up when I was with him and it sounded and felt like he really liked what I was doing. My tits were red with his marks and I hadn’t felt a thing being too busy reveling in Harry. He could get it with me anytime he liked and I would comply and do exactly what he wanted.

«Did I enjoy that?» He chuckled and moved to hold his weight up on his elbows. «That was unreal. I was so fucking gone in my own head I didn’t even think about you. Are you okay, Alex?» Course he cared for how I was feeling, it was like second nature for Harry to care about the people around him. Probably the reason why he became an officer.

«Yeah, I really liked that.» I hadn’t even been close to reaching an orgasm from that alone, but damn it if I hadn’t enjoyed myself more than with any other lad - who I’ve never even let fuck my face like that.

«Do you wanna sit on my face? Honestly don’t know if I can move right now.» He was good to look at so I let my eyes wander, his tattoos shining along with the rest of his skin with a light layer of sweat. I shook my head no, telling him I was good for now.

«I might wake you up tonight if I can’t sleep though.» Winking at him as I got out of bed fixing my tits before going downstairs to get a bottle of water. My throat was rough and the aftertaste of his cum wasn’t that nice any longer.

Bringing a bottle of water up for Harry to drink, I jogged up the stairs only wanting to fall asleep as soon as possible. Not getting much sleep during the last month has gotten to me and the one weekend I have off I want to make up for some of it.

«Is it alright if I sleep here?» Again, don’t know why I felt the need to ask Harry if I could stay the night when I’d done it the last two times.

«I was kinda hoping you’d stay and I could return the favor when I get back from work in the morning? I’ll be done by nine at the latest.» Harry didn’t look like he was scared of getting rejected, almost talking as if it was the most normal question. Maybe he recognized there was something up with me and was trying to act as normal as possible for me to relax again.

«Mm, I think I can do that.» Harry smiled from where he was still laying, telling me to ‘come here’. I didn’t object and fell straight into his arms with a quiet sigh. His hands grasped my body tightly to his, fingers going up and down my spine. «Think I’m gonna fall asleep in a few seconds if you continue doing that.» It felt incredible having someone dote on you without any pressure or hidden feelings behind it.

«Let’s get up and get ready for bed then, yeah?» I nodded and reluctantly removed myself from his arms pulling him up with me.

Standing in the bathroom brushing our teeth together felt oddly relaxing. A thing normally viewed as intimate between a man and woman when they’re sleeping together at least. There had been intimacy between us since our first night together I feel, so we might’ve gotten used to it - not thinking about how this isn’t normal for people who only have sex.

Deciding to push the thought to the back of my mind, I got undressed to my underwear before jumping under the covers waiting for Harry to get in behind me and pull me close.

— Morning after

I wasn’t aware of my surroundings as I was still asleep and only barely waking up when I felt the unforgettable feeling of someone going down on me. Slowly opening my eyes as I let go of the moan I couldn’t even try to hold back, I saw the duvet was still covering my body, one leg sticking out while my right knee was sticking up under the duvet.

It was undeniably the best wake up call I’d had in years. Maybe even since the morning of my fifth birthday which was twenty years ago. Lifting my arms to lay above my head, my hips started moving along Harry’s tongue wanting to get as much pleasure as I could out of it. Since when were men this good at eating a woman out?

He smiled against my clit as I continued to sound my pleasure and circle my hips against his mouth, obviously liking how much I enjoy what he was doing. And I sure did enjoy it, a smile finding its way on my face as well before more sounds took over and I couldn’t find the energy to moan through a smile.

His tongue flicked my clit once, twice before sucking it between his lips, tongue still flicking. It was warm and wet when he released it going down my slit, pushing his tongue in me. I don’t understand where Harry learned how to eat someone out when literally no other man even knew where my clit was. His arm hooked around my thigh moved down so his thumb could circle my clit, pressing into it at times to get more heavy breaths from me.

I didn’t last long, Harry going at it like he was starving, reaching my first high this morning from oral with a soundless moan. My hips didn’t stop grinding into his lips and he didn’t let up until I moved my hand to push him away. I was sensitive and not quite awake yet as I came down from an orgasm I couldn’t compare to anything else.

Harry came up from under the blankets, fitting himself between my still open legs. Seeing the smile on his face, chin and lips glistening with my release on them, made me pucker my lips together wanting to taste myself on him.

«Mm..» Harry moaned into the kiss, his body fully leaning down on mine, barely holding his weight up as I took most of it. It felt nice - his warm body encompassing mine fully.

Keeping him close we spent the morning in bed, kissing and ultimately slipping him in when he spooned me. The position being intimate and sensual, but the morning stillness and tired bodies made it the best way to get off in this moment.

After rolling around in bed for an hour, enjoying another orgasm or two, our hungry stomachs made us get out and make our way to his kitchen. The sun was shining through the windows making the room light and the slightly warmer wind blowing through the open french door made it so the shirt I had put on was just enough to not get cold.

Sitting down on one of the dining chairs I watched him move around in his kitchen making us french toast for breakfast. The clock had just passed ten and I was planning on going straight back to bed when I got home then hopefully finishing up my paperwork. I needed the sleep or I don’t think I’ll function the week coming up.

«I wanted to talk to you about something.» We had been sitting in silence as we ate the toast until Harry’s words broke the comfortable silence. I nodded and moved my eyes to connect with his showing him I’m all ears.

«We’ve had sex a few times now and first of all I want to make sure we’re not giving each other anything. I know I’m not sleeping with anyone else.» I understood where he came from. We don’t know what the other does when we’re not together and because we’re not using a condom we could easily bring an STD into the picture.

«I told you I haven’t been with anyone but you the last year, so I’m clean. Even went to the clinic last week.» It was a necessary conversation, but telling him I’d been checked after we’d slept together was a little awkward.

«Good. I’m clean too, checked on tuesday.» Harry nodded, but didn’t seem done with the conversation. To prepare himself for the second part of the conversation, he took a bite of his toast before swallowing it down with some water.

«I wanted to ask you one more thing. It’s absolutely fine if you say no, but know I’m one hundred percent up for it.» He looked me in the eyes as I waited for him to ask what I had a feeling he would.

«Would you wanna make this a regular thing? Exchanging phone numbers and meeting up whenever we want a release instead of not knowing if we’ll ever see each other again? I think we’re pretty compatible in bed and I’ve had a better time with you than any old fling I’ve ever had.» He was laying our options on the table, suggesting we become friends with benefits. It had crossed my mind, knowing I wouldn’t object to having a benefit relationship with him. Honestly think it’ll be more beneficial for me and I never thought he’d bring it up.

«I’d be up for that, yeah. Not to make things awkward but you’re a pretty decent lad with a more than satisfying member to be fair. Would be stupid to turn you down - anyone would.» My cheek grew hotter as I spoke, a tint of red covering them I’m sure as I’m clearly not as bold and confident when we’re not in bed or drunk.

Harry only smiled at me as I basically confirmed our new relationship - friends with benefits. It’s been five weeks and too many wet dreams since I met him and knowing I can have him almost whenever I want - and when he wants - is just perfect. If I can give him half as much pleasure as he gives me I’ll be a happy lady, but I will aim to give him mind blowing orgasms every time.

«Didn’t think you’d be up for this sort of deal with the whole police thing.» Looking up from my plate as I ate the last bite of my delicious toast, Harry squinted his eyes at me.

«And why’d you think that?» He didn’t sound irritated or confused but intrigued to know what was going on in my head. Putting my trust in him and being honest is a huge part of us - I think at least - so I washed away all anxiety and worry. Not that he made me have a reason to be anxious around him.

«Just thought you’d be a bit proper and all. Guess that went out the window - along with my knickers - the first time we met, huh?» Snickering at the memory of him throwing my knickers out his window, Harry joined in also thinking back to five weeks ago. Being able to have banter with him is good, makes things less serious as it should be between friends with benefits - I think at least.

“What are you saying then? Wanna give me your number, pet?” Harry looked at me with the happiest smile on his face; there is no way I’m letting neither of us down by denying us having regular hookups. I’d be causing myself pain to not let him fuck me as much as he wants.

“Happily. One tiny condition though, we always meet here cause I have a roommate and I want to keep this between us. Not because I’m ashamed, but because she likes to meddle in my business and it’ll be easier if she doesn’t have proof of anything.” Harry agrees, not wanting anyone else talking about our - not quite so normal - relationship.

It was easy being myself with Harry, he made me feel safe and relaxed. There was no need to keep my guards up around him though we’ve not known each other for long. Not that it mattered much, there were people who got married after only a couple months of knowing each other - which we most definitely will not do.

[slytherinbangchan]

College Tutor! Hyunjin 2 (Nerdy Hj- Requested)

Part 1

Blog’s Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, alcohol (party stuff), switch/sub Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x FemReader

Word count: 2.6k

You've been fucking Hyunjin all weekend practically non-stop and when Sunday arrives you get a text from you roommate asking if you're okay or what. The only thing she knew for sure is that you went and grabbed some more clothes yesterday while she was away but that's all. You laugh at the text she just sent as you lie on your stomach naked while Hyunjin leaves a trail of kisses on your back. 'What?' He ask right before biting on your butt softly. You whine a bit at the bite and turn your head to look at him pouting. 'Kiss first'. You say and he chuckles softly before climbing over you to kiss.

His cock against your butt getting hard just with the feeling of your naked body under him. You smile and turn around to face him completely and he accommodates between your legs to keep kissing. His dick rubbing against your slit now. You whine on the kiss and he stops to look at you in your eyes. 'Are you still sore?' He asks and you nod. 'Mhm, but it's fine if you keep doing only that'. You tell him before pecking his lips. 'We run out of condoms again anyway'. You say as you chuckle and he smiles. '..Already?' He asks and you laugh. 'Yes! Already. But it's fine I'll go buy some more while you study later'. You say as he distractedly nibs on your neck down to your tits. You play with his hair as he does so. You can hear he's trying to say something but you don't know what it is. 'Jinnie, baby, maybe let go of my nipple and try again'. You giggle and he looks up wih rosy cheeks. 'Sorry'. He says making your heart flutter at his embarrassed face. 'It's fine. What were you saying, love?' You ask and he sits up a bit. 'Ah, I was asking why did you laugh earlier, you never told me'. 'Right'. You say. 'My roommate was making jokes about me being here for too long'. He's gonna say something about that but suddenly you hear someone unlocking the door from outside so you get under the covers as quick as you can and Hyunjin puts on some joggers that were laying around.

'Hey bro, why was the door locke... Nevermind'. Hyunjin's roomate says then stares at you. 'y/n..??' He asks and you laugh. 'Hey, Mark. Can you turn around for a moment?' You ask him as Hyunjin hands you your clothes and he does. You can tell how awkward they both feel right now so you jump out of bed as soon as you have your clothes on. 'Okay you can move again now Mark, thanks'. You let him know and then make Hyunjin lean a bit so you can kiss him. 'You look so good on those stupid pants'. You whisper in his ear making him lightly blush. 'Anyway I'm gonna go back to my room but there's a party later. Will you come with me? Mark, you should come too'. You tell them and Mark scoffs as he smiles. 'Of course I'm going but good luck convincing this one'. He says as he points at Hyunjin with his head. 'What does he mean?' You ask and Hyunjin clicks his tongue at Mark then looks at you. 'Don't mind him. Of course I'll go with you'. He says and you smile so big. 'What??' Mark exclaims. 'Hwang Hyunjin is going to a party? I've spent almost two years trying to get you to go to one?' He complains and you laugh. 'I feel powerful right now'. You say and Hyunjin smiles before pecking your nose.

You leave his room and head to yours. You roommate sure has a lot of questions about you and Hyunjin but you avoid most of them cause you're so tired, so you take a shower and get into bed for a bit. Gotta get some energy back before going to the party. Ah.. And you're still so sore but that doesn't stop you from mising his cock already.

Some hours later you and your roommate meet with the guys outside the dorms. The party is at some rich kid's house. The only thing you know about him is his name, 'Chenle', but anyway, your roommate is driving so that means you don't have to worry about how many drinks you have. That's also why you are already drinking on your way there. 'You don't want anything?' You ask Hyunjin as Mark clumsily pours you a glass in a moving car and Hyunjin bites his lips lightly. 'Okay, let me have some of yours'. He says and you peck his lips before handing him the red plastic cup. By the time you get to the party Hyunjin is already a bit tipsy. 'Adorable'. You say as he almost trips while getting down the car. He giggles and you fix his hair a bit. A smile on his face as you do so. Making you smile too. 'Whaat?' You ask as you chuckle and he shakes his head. 'You're so pretty'. He says and you blush lightly. 'Pfft, shut up'. You tell him and he smiles again before leaning over you to kiss. His hands on your hips pulling you closer. 'You guys, stop it. I'm getting jealous, let's go inside already'. Your roommate says and you pull away after a moment with a smile on your face.

'Let's go get some more drinks'. Mark tells Hyunjin and they both disappear in the crowd. 'Hey y/n who is that guy?' Some girl asks. 'Ah, hey. You mean Hyunjin? He's in our class you idiot'. You say and she gasps. 'So it's true? You're dating Hwang Hyunjin? Isn't he like... a huge nerd?' She laughs and you roll your eyes. 'Yeah I guess? So?' She laughs again. 'Well, you know...' She says but you just wait for a better explanation. 'I mean, I gotta admit he looks pretty hot today but still... Why a nerd like him?' She asks and you roll your eyes at her once again before simply leaving.

There's a lot of people there and you know most of them. Normally you’d go around talking to everyone but tonight you find the fact that people keep stopping you just to chat a bit annoying, maybe a lot. There's this guy, Lucas who won't let you go. You try to look behind him cause you think you just saw Hyunjin talking to some guys. 'Yeah, yeah. See you around Lucas'. You say as you push him out of your way and walk towards hyunjin.

He's in fact drinking as some people ask him questions. 'So, are you really fucking y/n?' You get to hear a guy asking as you come closer. Hyunjin blushes lightly. 'Ah... How do you know?' He asks and the other guy laughs. 'Mark Lee told everyone. Isn't he your roommate?' You get there just in time to rescue a very blushy Hyunjin from probably a bunch of embarrassing questions. 'Ah, here you are baby'. You say as you take his hand. 'Let's dance, huh?'

You thought he would kinda resist but he followed you instantly with a smile on his face. You tilt your head confused as he starts dancing. 'Wait, you can actually dance?' You ask as you chuckle. 'Of course I can. And this is not my first party'. He says and you gasp. 'You got a secret life? Tell me everything about it'. You say and he chuckles as he spins you around. Your butt is against his crotch now as he bites on your neck softly and guides your hips with his hands. You turn around after a bit to kiss him. His hands on your butt now and everyone around is looking but you couldn't care less. 'Let's do some shots'. You suggest and he follows you until you find some guys doing tequila shots. 'This is perfect, here'. You say as you gently bend his neck for a moment to pour some salt then you make him hold a lime slice with his teeth. 'Cheers'. You say before sensually licking the salt from his neck and drinking the shot. Then you take the lime from his lips with your mouth. He smiles before you peck his lips. 'Your turn'. You say, handling him the salt. He smiles and moves a lock of your hair to a side to pour the salt over one of your tits. You put a lime slice in your mouth. He licks the salt and drinks the shot, then he takes the lime from your mouth and bites it before kissing you passionately. And again, it doesn't matter how many people are around you two. In your head they're just extras in a movie.

After some shots you sneak to one of the rooms upstairs. Hyunjin's hands are roaming all over your body as you try to get rid of your panties. 'Waiiit' You chuckle as you try to stop him for a minute. 'Here'. You say as you push him so he'd fall on the bed. He licks his lips with a shaky breath as he waits for you. An impatient whine scapes him as you finally get rid of your underwear and climb the bed, unzipping his pants as soon as you're there. His dick aching for your touch. You pull down his pants and underwear at the same time releasing his cock. Precum deliciously dripping from his tip. You just hold his lenght and take it whole into your mouth. He groans softly as you suck him. Throwing his head back in pleasure as you play with his balls at the same time. And he's just so hard.

His hands on your head setting a pace. You find amusing how confident he's getting around you. Something you'll use to mess with him in the future no doubt.

He whines your name out and you let go of his cock and start jerking him off instead, moving your hand faster as he's about to release. He bites his lips as he lets go, painting your hand and his own stomach with cum. You clean your hand and Hyunjin a bit before lying next to him. 'I wanna eat you out'. He blurts out and you chuckle. 'Yeah? I think I want that too'.  You tell him and he smiles before sitting up and place himself between your legs. Then someone bangs on the door. 'Everyone out of the rooms'. More banging in other rooms's doors. 'I said no upstairs'. That must be Chenle. 'You guys get out right now or we'll take you out personally'. We? He must have brought some friends to help him. You look at Hyunjin and he pouts. 'It's fine baby, we'll play later, huh?' You say and caress his chin before pecking his lips.

Since they kicked you out from one of the bedrooms you decide to just keep drinking and dancing until your roommate is sober enough to drive you all back to the dorms. You're practically jerking Hyunjin off in the car on your way back but Mark is too drunk and your roommate too tired to even care about it. 'Oof, you're fucking when we get to the dorms right?' Mark asks. 'Y/n you stay with Hyunjin in our room I'll borrow your bed for tonight if that's okay with you too?' He's asking your roommate now.

You're already moaning at the room's door as Hyunjin attempts to open it without stopping the kissing or the bites. You whine at how long you're having to wait so you stop him taking the keys from his hands and turning around to try and unlock the door. His hands are quick to run to your hips and press your butt against his hard cock. 'Can't wait to fuck you just like this' He whispers in your ear and you bite your lips finally opening the door.

You're both quick on gettin rid of your clothes. His warm body against yours as you kiss. He flips you over and pushes you so you’d rest on your forearms over his desk. His fingers softly running along your slit collecting some juices before he starts pumping his dick. 'You got the condoms?' He asks. 'Fuck. I forgot to buy them'. You say and he pats your butt softly before moving to Mark's side of the room. 'Found some' He says after a minute then goes back to you. You can hear him putting in on and that makes your juices flow even more. You wiggle your butt lightly and pout so he chuckles. One of his hands on your hips as he looks for your entrance with his tip. Then he grasps on your butt as he slides into you. You bite your lips as you feel the burning pain of your sore pussy at first but soon you forget about it as he begins to pound into you. You're still kinda drunk and so is he so the room is filled with moans and panting and whines without any kind of remorse. In that position he's just hitting all the right spots. You reach your high without even expecting it so he stops and you quickly turn around to kiss him. 'Why the fuck did you stop?' You ask between kisses, then you push him so he'd fall on the bed and he sits up but you just climb him there in the edge of the bed and ride him so hard. 'F-fuck'. He says as he's about to cum and you ride your second orgasm as he releases a moment later. Milking him completely. There's a lot of sloppy kisses as you cockwarm him for a bit after you both came.

He takes the condom off after a while and ties it before throwing it to the floor next to bed. Then you both get a shower before going back to bed for some lazy kissing before falling asleep.

Next morning you're hugging him in your sleep when you hear some chuckling. You open your eyes slowly and see Hyunjin's sleepy face sweetely smiling as he looks at you. 'What?' You ask as you blush and he chuckles again. 'Nothing, you're just so cute'. He says and you sit up a little as you remember all those other moments where he's showed interest on your softest self. Maybe he wants to dom sometime too? You're getting excited just thinking about how you can mess with him knowing that fact. 'Were you watching me sleep?' You pout and he smiles. 'Yeah'. He chuckles softly. 'Mhm~' You say as you cutely play with his fingers then look up at him with pleading eyes as you pout again for no reason. He blushes immediately and your eyes drift to his crotch. 'Ah~ Jinnie, you got hard just now, didn't you?' You laugh and now he's the one pouting. 'I knew you were messing with me being all cute out of nowhere'. He says and you laugh again. 'Aww, sowwy babyy I just wanted to see if I could comfirm something'. You say as you try to peck his cheek and he hits you with a pillow. 'Pfft, leave me alone'. He says as he chuckles softly. 'No way, make out with me'. You say. 'No!' He pouts looking away. 'Ah, really? Okay'. You say and he gasps. 'No! Wait, I do want to...' He mumbles and you smile then push him so he'd fall back on the other side of the bed. You leave a trail of kisses from his collarbone to his lips, then, for some reason your eyes drift to the floor, specifically to last night's condom. Your heart stops for a moment before you quickly jump out of bed. Hyunjin watches you attentively with a confused face as you pick up the condom. Then you both see cum dripping from a tiny break on the side.  You sigh and throw the condom away. 'Fuck'.

Part 3

While I work on part 3 maybe you’d like to read: Gray Joggers (Hyunjin One-Shot)

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

           One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance. 

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

           However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

           Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

           Not this time.

           On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

           And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

           Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

           Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

           Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

           As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

           She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

           Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

           When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

           When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

           She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

           Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

           Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

           A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

           Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

           They were not fine.

           Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

           Because everything was falling apart.

           Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

           Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

           In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

           Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

           Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

           He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

           Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

           They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

           An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

           Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

           By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser.  Everything would go perfectly.

           …Everything went wrong.

           They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

           Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

           The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

           While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

           Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

           Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

           Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

           Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

           Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

           Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

           The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

           Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

           Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

           Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

           Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

           The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

           The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

           Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

           Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

           When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

           Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

           Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

           There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

           They were on their own.

           Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

           Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

           Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

           Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

           Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

           The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

           Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

           On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

           As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

           Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

           Marinette screamed.

           They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

           When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

           Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

           They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

           Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

           Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

           Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

           After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

           The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

           The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

           However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

           After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

           The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

           The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

           Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

           The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

           Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

           The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

           Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

           When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

           Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

           Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

           Marinette laughed.

           She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

           Marinette smirked.

           Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 5

Well, I guess Alex is going through the motions. I am really starting to love how well-rounded this is getting. Flirty fics are fun, but they always need heart and perseverance!

Chapter

1 - 2- 3 - 4

Fuck. Why did she do that? Alex wanted to toss her phone but knew she couldn’t afford a new one yet. Memories. Social media keeps track even if you don’t. She was bundled on the ground of the bathroom she just cleaned and sobbed.

All she wanted to do was look at this real estate agent that Lucifer texted her. She glanced down at the picture of her and her mother while she was getting dressed for prom. Would she be upset that she was thinking of selling their home? Would she be proud? She felt so fucking alone.

There was a knock at the bathroom door, and she stuttered on a breath. Fucking get it together, girl. She wiped her face and nodded. “I’ll be out momentarily,” she said in a cheery tone.

Breathe. Stand up. Bitch, buck the fuck up, you’re at work. Alex listened to her inner dialog, turned on the water to the sink, cleaned her hands and face, and fixed her makeup. After she was satisfied, she picked up her tool tote and walked to the door with a plastered smile.

Solomon was on the other side of the door. “Hey, Alex,” he said with a curl to his lips.

“Hey, Sol, how are you doing?” she asked.

“Not horribly. I’m a bit stuck on this formula, but it’s bound to come to me,” he voiced while walking in step with her.

She rocked her head and shifted at the entrance to the counter. “Let me just go put this away and clock out. We can chat a minute after I’m off the clock.”

He rocked his head and leaned on the wall nearby. “Want to take a walk with me?”

She tilted her head and hummed. “Maybe.”

“Good, I’ll order, and we’ll head to the park.”

“Oh, good, we’re taking a walk to the park?”

Alex glanced over to see Satan wander over with his tea and pastry bag. “Oh, hey, Satan. I didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head and gestured to his messenger bag. “I was grading pages.”

Solomon crossed his arms before touching his chin with his fingers. “You want to join us?”

Satan rocked his head. “A little fresh air would be great.”

“Okay, let me just go finish up,” Alex smiled and walked to the back of the shop. Well, it was quite the variation, but after how interesting her Sunday had been, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. She turned to the computer after putting the tote away and clocked out. Shaking out her body and taking off her apron and hat, she rolled her neck.

There was something to be said about the smears on her uniform. Alex stripped off her overshirt and straightened her purple tank top, and pulled out her ponytail. After checking her face in the mirror and reapplying a few touches on her eyeliner and lip gloss, she was ready.

Better. Alex smiled and collected her bag before marching to the front again. Solomon and Satan seemed to be in a discussion about the book in Satan’s hand. Their hand gestures only confirmed the estimation as Alex walked over to collect her drink.

“Hey, babes,” Jess hummed. “Do you think you could do me a favor and take my Friday shift, and I’ll take your Saturday one. It's closing, and I have a date.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yeah, I can. You never ask me to trade, so they must be pretty hot,” she teased.

Jess smirked and rocked her head. “Yeah, Mr. Macchiato, who comes in the evenings.”

“Nice, well, I hope you have tons of fun. Text Jordan and let him know, alright?”

Jess beamed and blew a kiss. “You’re a lifesaver for my social life, hun.”

Alex waved and met up with the two intellectuals holding their beverages. “I’m just saying that Dickens wasn’t as extraordinary as we make him out to be,” Solomon huffed.

“Oh, no, we’re on about Charles again?”

Satan laughed and shook his head as they walked out the door. “Just Solomon’s primary dagger.”

“Solomon, do you just enjoy debating?” Alex asked.

Solomon smiled and shifted his head from side to side. “Occasionally, but so does Satan, so we have a mutual understanding never to take it to blows.”

“I think the Brontë sisters are probably a staple for every woman,” Alex added to the conversation.

“And men,” Satan nodded.

“Very true, but we need to selectively decide what mannerisms are dated in order to value the interpretation,” Solomon voiced.

Alex smirked and raised her hand to her chest. “'Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart!'” She paused after the quote and laughed. “Imagine declaring equality to a man who was higher in rank and stature than you in that time. The dated behavior is only setting.”

Satan let out a stream of hearty laughter. “Oh, Alex, I would have loved to have you in my class today. There was a sexist animal who was definitely in need of a strong female to set him straight.”

“My little Jane isn’t very plain,” Solomon chuckled and waved his hand.

“No, she isn’t,” Alex laughed before sipping her iced tea.

“I was referring to you,” Solomon hummed.

Alex smirked at him and shrugged. “I do pretty well, I suppose.”

Satan cleared his throat, drawing Alex’s attention to her left. “So, you realized that half your customers are my brothers.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yes, I was informed of that by Belphegor in a rather creative way.”

“I heard,” Satan laughed. “We all live together.”

“So I’ve heard,” she smiled.

“Interesting dynamic,” Solomon voiced. “All seven of them together.”

“They also throw some ridiculous parties,” Alex said and then waved her free hand in a circle. “From what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know you live across the street,” Satan snorted with a smug smile. “I’ve known longer than Lucifer.”

Alex gasped as they walked on the sideway in the park. “What?”

Satan chuckled and rocked his head. “Yes, I knew from Jordan. I was the one to buy his motorcycle.”

She shrieked and gasped. “Oh! That’s why I’ve seen it around the cafe.”

Satan wagged his eyebrows. “So yes, I’ve known for about four months. He pulled it out of your garage and brought it over. When I asked why he moved, he told me about your circumstance and why he was torn, but family comes first.”

“It does,” Alex smiled. “His mother was great to me when my parents died. She practically lived with me for the first six months. Then Jordan moved in, and he got me a job at the cafe. He’s always been like my big brother. So when his dad got injured at work and couldn’t work, I told him to move home to help.”

“How did you both meet?” Solomon questioned.

“Oh, that’s a funny story, actually. So, in middle school, he was a grade above me, and I was super shy. He saw me being harassed by some asshole. He stepped in and smoothed the situation. I was so shocked he was able to do so without violence. Jordan took me to the bathroom, cleaned me up, and told me that the only bitches in our life are the beautiful bitches we can be, so I needed to learn to walk like it. From then on, he just started pulling me into his antics,” she explained and laughed while shaking her head.

“You were shy?” Satan questioned.

Alex stopped drinking her tea and nodded. “I actually am in general. I took his advice to heart. I’m friendly and enjoy people, but I don’t have very many people I consider close with.”

“Is this why you aren’t dating anyone?” Solomon questioned.

Alex narrowed her eyes at him and smirked. “Yes.”

“Liar,” Solomon smiled.

“Wait, I really find this fascinating. You aren’t close to any family?” Satan asked.

Alex shrugged and hummed. “My aunts and uncles all live in different parts of the country. I was an only child, and now that my parents aren’t here, the only people I see are Jordan and his parents. Jordan’s sister left for a university across the country two years ago. I see them probably once a month.”

“You live alone? Like no one ever comes to knock on your door or calls your phone?” Satan questioned with a scowl.

“Well, I won’t be living there much longer,” Alex sighed. “I have to sell the place, so I’ll have to clear it out in the next couple of weeks. The financial officer, my parents, left in charge, said that the funds wouldn’t cover the expenses this next year, so it would be a good idea for me to sell.”

“Hm,” Solomon murmured. “I could help.”

“No,” Alex shook her head. “It’s time. I don’t need handouts, Sol. I appreciate it, but no.”

“Why do you feel like you have to do everything alone?” Satan asked as they rounded the outside of the park.

Alex breathed and shook her head. “It’s such a long story.”

“Your parents?” Solomon voiced.

This analysis was cathartic in a way, and Alex felt this heavyweight being pulled from her shoulders. “Well, yes and no. I was telling my mother before she passed that I was thinking of taking a year off to go with my boyfriend at the time to travel the world. She was so supportive, even though it would put my education in jeopardy. When they died, he bailed with some other girl, so I kind of just stopped relying on others.”

Satan tutted and exhaled. “To be an idiot teenager who couldn’t handle grief. I’m sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age.”

Alex smiled and shrugged as they made their way back to the cafe. “I’m pretty good. I have a degree. I’ll have a decent nest egg to pay for my schooling for an even better education and my best friend. I’m doing pretty well.”

“I have an intrigue before we conclude our adventure into your life,” Solomon hummed.

Alex tilted her head as she grinned at him. “What’s that?”

“You are strong without someone, but it makes it so much richer to share your heart with others,” Solomon declared.

“Says the man who has done his fair share of that,” Satan snorted.

Solomon rolled his eyes. “Satan, don’t cast stones in glass houses.”

“You have been married three times now,” Satan snorted.

News. Alex raised her eyebrows. “Three times? Aren’t you like barely forty?”

“I resent that,” Solomon scowled. “No, I am not. However, marriage and love are difficult measurements in a formula very few understand. I’m difficult.”

“I actually like that about you,” Alex laughed.

Satan scowled as they stopped at the sidewalk near the cafe. “You enjoy that he’s difficult, but you won’t text me?” he questioned with a sly smile.

She puffed and pulled his phone from his bag’s pocket. It was sticking out and available. Alex then went to his keypad, dialed her number, and pressed the call. Her phone soon rang, and she hung up.

“Now, you have my number. Stop trying to make me do all the work, you pushy professor,” she snorted and handed his phone back.

Satan was grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Solomon handed her his phone, and she groaned but did the same exact thing. “If you both call me all the time, I will block your number,” she teased.

“If you need any help with your house, please tell me,” Solomon nodded. “I am quite organized.”

“I will,” Alex smiled.

Solomon tossed his cup in the trash and smiled before walking to his car. Alex watched him wave and climb inside before driving off in the silver vehicle. Satan shifted and tilted his head when she turned back to him.

“Did you want to have dinner with me tonight? I’ll cook,” Satan offered.

“Just because we’re temporarily neighbors does not mean I’m a booty call, understood?” Alex questioned.

Satan snorted and straightened his shirt. “You’re far too interesting to blow on a booty call, Alex.”

“Just had to make it clear. I would take your offer for dinner, but I’m actually exhausted. Diavolo came in for a coffee tasting, and I hosted it. Since then, I’ve just been drained.”

Satan rocked his head. “Well, I’ll ask tomorrow then,” he smiled and shrugged. “You’ll eventually say yes,” he chuckled and walked over to the motorcycle.

Alex smiled and observed as he slid on his helmet, waved, and climbed on the bike. Bad boy, professor. Pretty sexy. That tickled her to no end. He pulled out with a roaring shift of gears and headed in the same direction she needed to go. Home. Even if it was just for now.

@rsmrymnt-tea @otome-scribbles

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  Slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

Tags  @talesmaniac89​ @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth@anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83​ @atc74 @sandlee44​ @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy​ @abuavnee​ @hearteyes-j2​ @vicmc624​ @440mxs-wife​ @wonder-cole  @maralisa124​ @krazykelly​​

[luvknow]

parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls. 

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

--

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

--

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!” 

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

--

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified. 

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

--

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with. 

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!” 

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

--

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

[janeofcakes]

Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 4

Hello, my lovelies! It is Saturday and I actually have some time to post now. YES! I don't have to wait until the final hour on Sunday night. Hats off to my brother for distracting the children. Haha.

I can't wait to see what you all think of this chapter. Editing it was a tooth-gritting experience. Enjoy!

---

John cannot help the grin spreading across his face as Gracie drags him through Regent’s Park to the appointed place they have met Olive for nearly a month now. Her face is screwed up in determination, her feet marching swiftly along and she tugs him behind by the hand. John shakes his head slightly and huffs a quiet laugh. He should have known his idea of a leisurely stroll on the way to meet Olive and her father was not in the cards. Gracie had informed John that, barring some emergency case, they would be in the park in the usual place before he had even taken his coat off after arriving home the night before. Candace had laughed and said Gracie had spoken of nothing else since leaving school. John even had a hard time getting her settled for bed. Gracie kept detailing the playdate plans she had made with Olive. She finally stopped and committed to sleep when John told her she would be too tired to go and have to stay home.

The morning had been a buzz of activity as they made and ate breakfast, and did some household chores. Gracie didn’t even argue about cleaning her room. They watered the plants in their small courtyard together. Gracie pulled a few weeds and, before they knew it, it was lunchtime. John made something quick so he could make afternoon snacks along with it, and so Gracie could get started eating. Weekends usually see her at the table for at least an hour, talking and eating as slowly as humanly possible. Today, however, she ate in record time and was waiting by the door anxiously when it was time to go.

“Come on, Dad,” Gracie growls, yanking John’s hand again. John grumbles when their snack-toting shoulder bag slips down his free arm to his elbow. Fortunately, he catches hold of it before it spills open or hits the ground.

“Gracie, slow down,” John commands tersely. “They aren’t going to leave before we get there.”

“We’re nearly ten minutes late,” Gracie insists without looking back at him, tugging him ahead again.

“I knew that watch was a bad idea,” John mutters to himself and sighs. Suddenly, Gracie stops in her tracks and John nearly walks right into her. The shoulder bag slips again, stopping only because its length adjustment clip catches on the fabric of his thin spring cardigan. John scrambles for the bag before it tears a hole and scolds his daughter, but his voice is completely drowned out by her squeal.

“Oh my god, they’re here!” Gracie drops John’s hand and runs at full speed toward the two figures twenty yards ahead. John huffs as he steadies the bag on his shoulder. He let her get away with that three times during the story last night, but is not about to this time.

“Gracie, language…” the word dies in John’s throat as his eyes follow his daughter to where a tall man sits on his knees in the dirt with Olive. It’s Sherlock Holmes.

“Oh my god,” John says slowly as shock overtakes him.

Sherlock and Olive are studying something in her hand that they must have pulled from the dirt and are deep in discussion. They haven’t even noticed Gracie running for them yet. John, unlike his daughter, cannot move. It’s Sherlock. Sherlock is right in front of him. John has not seen this man in ten years and he looks… exactly the same. Tall and fit and thin. Hm. Thin instead of skinny and not so pale. Sherlock looks healthy, which is not something John ever thought would cross his mind.

John watches as Gracie reaches them and shouts a greeting. Olive drops whatever she was holding to throw her hands in the air and cry out Gracie’s name. Sherlock reaches toward Gracie and laughs as he says ‘hey’. He is smiling. It’s the brightest, happiest smile John has ever seen on Sherlock’s face and it. Is. Beautiful.

So not everything is exactly the same with Sherlock Holmes and yet, doesn’t feel that far off. He is wearing one of his dress shirts, as John would expect, but his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he is wearing jeans. Jeans! And an ordinary pair of brown shoes. His curls are still dark and tousled. John can’t help but think of his own hair, more grey now than blonde. At least, that’s how he sees it. Still, the years have been kind to John too. He’s only a little fuller in the middle and the lines on his face have grown very little. John wonders for a moment what Sherlock will see when he finally lays eyes on John again.

“Dad!” Gracie calls and waves, jarring John from his reverie. His gaze comes into focus to see Gracie and Olive motioning to him frantically. John’s eyes shift to the detective and, oh god, Sherlock is looking at him.

Sherlock’s eyes are wide with surprise, his lips parted. That brilliant smile he had just worn fading away as the realization that his former flatmate and best friend is standing a few yards away takes hold. The detective rises slowly as Olive and Gracie dart for John, reaching him in seconds. They each grab one of his hands and start flapping up and down, Olive saying hello and Gracie urging him to come along. John cannot tear his eyes away from the tall man staring back at him. Neither man can believe his eyes or the coincidence of it all. Speaking of which, how the bloody hell does Sherlock Holmes have a child? One he obviously fathered because she looks just like him.

“Dad, come on. Come on,” Gracie interrupts John’s bewildered thoughts again, tugging hard on his hand. “Come meet Olive’s dad.”

“He’s right there,” Olive is saying while pulling John’s other hand. “We were just studying the soil. You’re not interrupting. He really wants to meet you.”

“Dad,” Gracie raises her voice and John finally responds with a slight shake of the head as he puts one foot in front of the other. Gracie rolls her eyes and continues to drag him along. Fortunately, she and Olive don’t have to pull him far because Sherlock begins to walk toward them. When they all meet there in the grass, the two girls start jumping around excitedly and shouting about how great it is that it’s finally happening.

“We’ve been waiting for this for so long!” Gracie exclaims, her feet never on the ground for more than a second at a time.

“And now we can have our playdate,” Olive declares. Whenever Gracie is touching the ground, Olive’s feet are in the air. It looks rather like a mad seesaw. “Maybe next weekend too!”

The two girls gasp and suddenly stop moving, frozen in time. They stare at one another, each thinking the same thing.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Gracie speaks first in a high voice and then lets out a little giggle. She often does when she is very excited, along with a quick dance. Olive nods frantically, saying ‘Yes, yes, yes’ and they both turn to their fathers for introductions

“Dad,” Gracie grabs John’s hand again and jumps in place, “this is Olive’s dad, Will.”

“Actually, Sherlock Holmes,” Olive pipes up. She turns to Sherlock with a bright smile. “This is John.”

“H-hi,” John stumbles over the word like an idiot. There are a couple of lines around Sherlock’s eyes and two or three on his forehead, wisps of grey hair at his temples and maybe a few mixed into his curls, but they are harder to see. He is much the same man John left behind ten years ago and his heart aches with how much John missed him.

“Hello, John,” Sherlock replies in a soft, warm tone and damn him for collecting himself again so quickly. Damn him again for still having that same silky baritone John had finally gotten used to not hearing. It’s almost too much. John had to completely rearrange his life and way of thinking when he and Mary left London. He struggled in silence because Mary wanted nothing more to do with the detective. She was done and insisted John finish with him as well. John learned quickly that Mary did not want to hear about, or even see, his difficulties with forgetting Sherlock. He used to slip out of the house periodically to phone Greg and find out how Sherlock was, but stopped after only two months. Hearing about his best friend and not being able to see or help him proved to be too painful. Shortly thereafter, something else happened that required all of John’s attention and nearly broke him. That first year in Bath had been hard.

John swallows hard and shoves the memories down. He can’t do this. Seeing Sherlock again… It’s too much. Sherlock’s brows are raised, worry creeping onto his face. Damn it. John must be broadcasting every thought and emotion going through his head. Sentiment, Sherlock would say with disdain.

“There,” Gracie says loudly with glee and John blinks from the shock of it. “Now you’ve met. Can we have our playdate tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes,” Olive echoes her friend’s excited tone. “Can we?”

“Olive, you know we have plans tomorrow,” Sherlock tuts and reminds her when she frowns quizzically. “A certain birthday party.”

“Oh! I forgot,” Olive turns to a disappointed Gracie to explain. “It’s my uncle’s party. We’re going to make a cake tonight and put the frosting on in the morning. What about next Sunday?”

Both girls are looking at Sherlock expectantly. He glances at John, who still cannot seem to get himself together and function normally.

“We’ll talk about it while you’re playing,” Sherlock assures them. They don’t seem satisfied with this answer at first, but another idea occurs to Olive quickly enough.

“Come on,” she says to Gracie suddenly. “I’ll tell you about the party while we swing.”

“Hurry, before they beat us to them!” Gracie shouts, spying two other girls heading that way. Just like that, they’re off across the playground. John and Sherlock are alone.

“John,” Sherlock’s voice is soft. A small smile plays at his lips and John feels a surge of nerves coarse through his gut as he remembers how Sherlock smiled on the tarmac after that stupid joke.

Sherlock is really a girl’s name.

John inhales quickly, but deeply and lets it out of his nose slowly, trying not to appear panicked. God, he missed this idiot.

“Are you all right?” Sherlock asks, concern plain on his face now.

“Yes,” John croaks, cursing himself silently and clearing his throat. “I’m fine. Just surprised. I had no idea.”

“Nor did I,” Sherlock agrees, relaxing his stance a bit. “Olive always said ‘Gracie’s dad’.”

“Yeah, exactly,” John smiles slightly in spite of himself. “She mentioned you work with the police, but I never would have made the connection. Of course, she also said your name was Will, come to think of it.”

John is rambling now. Goddamn, just shut up, Watson. His eyes rove over Sherlock’s face, taking in every detail. Every angle and line, reacquainting himself with those ridiculous cheekbones. It’s like coming home.

“You look good,” John says before he can think better of it. His cheeks flush and he can feel the warmth of it, but he doesn’t look away.

“You do too, John,” Sherlock answers, almost looking a touch bashful. It is certainly a different look for Sherlock Holmes, John muses. “Bath suits you.”

“Ah, not well enough,” John tilts his head and smirks. “Not like London. I’m back for good.”

“So I hear. You’ve taken over a practice,” Sherlock remarks conversationally. “How is it?”

“Yeah, Andrew Collins, an old friend. He’s taken early retirement,” John tells him, resting his hands on his hips casually. “It’s good. I like it. Different patients, occasional emergency.”

“And you’ve been at it…” Sherlock pauses to let John fill in the blank. John feels a bit apprehensive. Sherlock is fishing. He wants to know how long John has been in London without trying to contact him once. He knows it has been longer than since Gracie started school. Of course, he does.

“A couple of months,” John finishes the sentence and wets his lips. “I wanted to make sure it suited me before moving Gracie.”

“Of course,” Sherlock says with a nod. Oddly enough, he does not seem at all put out. “Perfectly planned.”

“You’re still at 221B?” John asks in an easy tone, even though the question has been burning in his mind.

“I am,” Sherlock’s shoulders angle back minutely.

“From what I hear, Olive is in…” John stops, suddenly not sure how to phrase it.

“Your old room, yes,” Sherlock says without hesitation. John knows it shouldn’t, but his gut clenches at how easily Sherlock says it. As if he doesn’t mind at all that John is gone. Then again, why should he? It’s been ten years and so much has changed. They have both moved on. They are both fathers and have their own lives. Until five minutes ago, John thought they would never cross paths again.

“It’s good of you to meet us today,” Sherlock begins. “Olive has spoken of little else. Is Rosie with you too?”

John’s smile fades in a second. He should have known it was unavoidable. Sherlock seems so changed, but is apparently just the same. Why should their past friendship spare John from his ruthless bite and deductions?

“No,” John replies curtly. “She’s not here.”

“Ah,” Sherlock answers pleasantly enough. It’s a good show and cuts John to the bone. “At home with Mary then. It is Rosie? Mary said she liked the name.”

“Do we have to do this?” John snaps, the muscles in his jaw contracting as his anger builds. Yes, John had left with a word. Yes, he hadn’t tried to contact Sherlock even once over the last ten years, but that didn’t give Sherlock the right to drag him back through the despair and heartache.

“Uh...no,” the detective responds apprehensively. He watches John with uncertainty, as if he doesn’t understand what he has done wrong. John remains silent and glares daggers. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“What, Sherlock?” John interrupts, his blue eyes cold as ice. “You’d rub salt on the wound?”

Sherlock’s lips part and he shakes his head shallowly as though he does not know what to say or what is happening.

“Unbelievable,” John mutters and then snaps again. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Mycroft still has his minions watching me, even after all this time. Don’t pretend he hasn’t told you everything.”

John’s fury boils strong in his blood, but he reigns it in for the sake of the girls and other children around them. None of them need to witness him shouting at Sherlock today, or any time for that matter. He glares up at his former friend and feels a fresh wave of anger sweep over him when Sherlock continues to look at him in confusion. The taller man raises his hands to placate John and actually takes a small step backwards. He shakes his head again, opening his mouth to say what? Play the fool? No, absolutely not. Sherlock is not going to deny this and trick John into apologizing. Not this time.

John raises his left hand to point an accusatory finger, but Sherlock beats him to the next word.

“I’m sorry, John. I don’t know…”

“She’s dead,” John cuts him off a little too loudly for a woman nearby. She gasps and moves away quickly. Feeling a shade self-conscious, John lowers his hand slowly and glances around to see if anyone else heard. The other men and women sitting on blankets in the grass or on park benches around them give no indication that they heard a thing. Every one of them continues looking on as their children play or read a book without a single look in John and Sherlock’s direction.

“I had no idea Mary had been killed,” Sherlock begins as John turns to face him. He appears appropriately contrite, in spite of the fact that Mary had nearly killed him months before they left London. “I am sorry.”

“Not Mary,” John shakes his head, suddenly very tired. “Rosie.”

“Rose…” Sherlock’s jaw drops in utter shock. He can’t even say her name and his voice fades into a quiet strangled sound. His face has gone very pale indeed and John almost asks if he is okay as his doctor’s nature kicks in, but then the anger surges back. Sherlock can never just let things be. He always has to poke the bear. He did it on every case. Every deduction, no matter how painful for those involved, announced with flourish so he could show off. Everyone had to know Sherlock Holmes was a genius, a magnificent, bloody genius and John had played right into it.

Now the detective turns it back on John. Now he is the interesting case and must be dragged through the mire, forced to remember another event that nearly tore him apart. First Afghanistan, then Sherlock and finally, Rosie. John is being punished. Punished for leaving Sherlock in the same way John had punished him upon his return from the dead. John deserves this. He knows he does, but fury rises up in his throat regardless and his hands clench at his sides.

“Oh god,” Sherlock’s voice almost startles John. It is small and so full of pain. John jerks his head back in confusion at the unexpected sentiment, his mind reeling with anger and perplexity in equal measure. Sherlock reaches for him and he is suddenly in the detective’s arms. John’s eyes are wide, his body stiff with shock. He has no idea how to react to this. Sherlock was never big on touching people and, while it had always been different with John, he could count the number of times this had happened on one hand, and most of them were at his wedding.

John remains still and tries to sort through all of the thoughts and feelings in his mind. One surfaces again and again, though he pushes it away. The feeling that he just wants to let go and melt in this man’s arms. How much did he want this very thing when they lived together in 221B? How many times had he wanted it over the years while he was in Bath and now here he is resisting it. John’s mind spins, unable to pick a direction until he hears Sherlock’s next words.

“I’m so sorry, John.”

It is a whisper in John’s ear and it sets every nerve ablaze. John pulls himself from Sherlock’s embrace and backs away, shaking his head from side to side. His body quakes with anger as he glares at his former friend.

“You don’t get to do this,” John growls, keeping himself in check in this public setting. Sherlock looks stunned and John’s mind gives a mirthless laugh. It was probably by design that Sherlock planned they meet here in a park within full view of their daughters. John could never haul off and punch him here. “You bastard.”

“John, no. That’s not what this is about,” Sherlock begins, the surprise falling from his face as he deduces John perfectly. Damn him.

“Then what is it about, Sherlock?” John bites out, keeping his voice down. “You want me to suffer because I left. I chose Mary and I left you and you want me to pay.”

“No,” Sherlock insists, his arms out now and palms out.

“Bullshit,” John snaps, his hands in fists again. His jaw is tight in a furious smile and his eyes flash. He takes a step toward Sherlock that can be interpreted as nothing less than aggressive, a warning. “Your damn brother has said it all before, but it’s not enough. You have to make me explain it all.”

“No!” Sherlock interrupts with a quiet urgency in his voice. He takes his own step forward so the two men are nose to nose, not more than a foot between them. “Mycroft tried to tell me where you went and what you were doing, but he didn’t, John. I wouldn’t let him. I don’t know a thing about the last ten years of your life. Not one thing.”

“What?” John’s brows furrow and he grimaces. The anger tries to push back and take control, but Sherlock’s words have a foothold and won’t back down. John searches his eyes for deception where there is none. “But his men. I’ve seen them.”

“He will always have spies. He can’t bear to not know everything,” Sherlock says like it’s a bad taste in his mouth. He meets John’s eyes and his expression softens. “But I don’t. I don’t know anything.”

“Why?” is all John can think to say. It doesn’t make sense. Sherlock always had to know, especially if it was something Mycroft knew. That competition surpassed all others in both their minds. How could he avoid the temptation? Unless it wasn’t one, and that thought turns John’s stomach.

“It was too much,” Sherlock mutters, lowering his eyes. He bites his lower lip and his gaze loses its focus as he recalls the past. “Two days after you’d gone, Mycroft came to the flat to tell me you’d gone by train. I stopped him before he even said where.”

Sherlock raises his silvery eyes that look just a bit glossier than usual. He sighs and tilts his head slightly, the corners of his lips angling downward.

“I knew he would tell me whatever I wanted to know, but…”Sherlock pauses to wet his lips and swallow. He continues slowly: “It hurt too much.”

John’s lips part at the revelation and all the anger drains from his body. He has never seen Sherlock more vulnerable and human. Even at the wedding during his speech or when he uttered those words through the hotel door to stop James from committing suicide. 

We wouldn’t do that to John, would we?

“Sherlock…” John tries to find the words and fails.So many thoughts race through his mind. All the feelings he’d had when big things happened and he didn’t hear so much as a whisper from Sherlock. He assumed Sherlock didn’t care and simply continued on as if he had never known John. It made him furious until he reminded himself that he had made no effort to contact the detective either. Now he knows that Sherlock knew nothing of it. He knew nothing and for all these years. God, John was such a fool.

“It’s fine, John,” Sherlock’s voice, now at normal volume and sounding very collected. “It’s all fine. I’ll keep my distance. We don’t have to interact simply because our daughters are friends.”

“What? No,” John blurts when Sherlock starts to move away. “No, Sherlock, that’s not… Look, I’m sorry.”

Sherlock’s brows raise in quiet surprise and he opens his mouth to speak, but John continues before he can utter a word.

“I shouldn’t have…” John presses his lips together and inhales deeply, struggling to find the words. “I just assumed… I shouldn’t have done.”

“It is a fair assumption, John,” Sherlock straightens, his tone matter of fact. “It follows logically given your experience and knowledge of me.”

“Yeah, well, maybe my knowledge of you is incomplete,” John says. He glances down and shifts his weight. “Let’s...sit down. Over there. That one’s empty.”

John points to a bench and looks up at the detective. His cupid’s bow turns up into the beginnings of a smile and he nods, taking the first step.

The two men spend the rest of the afternoon on that bench. Olive and Gracie interrupt periodically for snacks and drinks of water. The girls regale them with stories of their adventures in the park or events from school and then run back to play. John and Sherlock talk almost non-stop when they are on their own; stories about the girls as babies and toddlers, and as they started school. It is clear that neither Mary nor Sherlock’s...wife? was in the picture from the very beginning, but neither man says why or even behaves as though it should be explained. Still, John cannot believe the woman, whoever she is, has been entirely absent. So where is she? He does not ask Sherlock though, not wanting to nose in and after a while, John stops wondering where Olive came from and just accepts that it has always been she and Sherlock in 221B.

Naturally, John asks after his other friends. Greg is the head of the whole crime division now and actually assigns his Chief Inspectors to work with Sherlock. He has never remarried, but has cohabited, as Sherlock puts it, for the last five years. Molly runs the morgue, so Sherlock still sees quite a bit of her too. She married a bloke named Alex a couple of years after John left and has a four year old Olive adores. Unfortunately, Sherlock doesn’t see much of Mike Stamford, but he was well and happy the last Sherlock knew. Mycroft is as irritating as ever and that’s all he will say on the subject. Mrs. Hudson is still rattling around 221A and would love to see John, who just nods and asks if she’s still stuffing Sherlock with biscuits. 

Before they know it, the afternoon has slipped into evening and the girls have returned with demands of dinner.

“I’m sorry to keep you for so long,” John says, hurriedly glancing at his watch. “We meant to leave an hour ago. I’m sure you have plans.”

“We’re having dinner with Mrs. H,” Olive rubs her hands together and licks her lips. “She’s making a roast with potatoes and then we’re going to make the birthday cake.”

“Oh, dear,” John remarks playfully. “We can’t have you missing out on all that.”

“Dad,” Gracie pulls on his hand impatiently, “did you schedule our playdate? Is it next weekend?”

“Uh… Well, no,” John replies, suddenly off balance. Seeing Sherlock is one thing, catching up has been fantastic, but going back to the flat.. John isn’t ready for that. He’s honestly not sure he will ever be.

“Dad,” Gracie complains.

“It would be no trouble,” Sherlock tells him and Olive nods emphatically. “We’d love to have her.”

“No,” John answers on impulse before he can think better of it.

“What? Why?” Gracie demands.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” John continues looking at Sherlock and then turns his attention to his daughter. “I’d like to get to know Olive’s dad a little better.”

A man he used to know so well, John thinks sadly. Was it his imagination or had Sherlock flinched at that? Damn it if the man can’t still read minds.

“But you talked all afternoon,” Gracie states with irritation and stomps her foot.

“Gracie,” John says sternly and she stops, looking at him in frustration. “We’ll talk about this later. Say goodbye to Olive.”

Gracie watches him a moment and then sighs in resignation. She steps forward and hugs the taller girl, who wraps her arms around her. They both say goodbye, Gracie in disappointment and John swears he hears Olive whisper ‘We’ll have a playdate soon enough, if I have anything to do with it’. The two girls part, Sherlock and John bid each other farewell, and each pair heads off in opposite directions.

Given the time, John and Gracie stop for takeaway on the way home. Gracie does not ask about the playdate or John’s decision until they are at the table with steaming plates of food. Once she does broach the topic though, she jumps in without preamble.

“So why can’t we have a playdate?” Gracie asks around a mouthful of nargisi kofta.

John lets out a deep sigh from between his lips and looks up at the ceiling for a moment. He really does not want to explain the whole situation and past with Sherlock Holmes, but has to say something that will satisfy her. He needs time to work through this. John had decided never to see Sherlock again and, up until a few short hours ago, would have upheld it. That is no longer an option and so many memories still flood back, but not things they did together. He thinks about those often enough, whenever he tells Gracie one of his bedtime stories for one. No, these are sensory memories. Sherlock’s smooth voice and ever-changing eyes, his scent and what it feels like to touch him, his sense of humor and his laugh. John is awash with feelings and sensations that he cannot possibly explain to Gracie right now. He can’t even make sense of them himself at the moment.

“You can, eventually,” John answers lamely. He would roll his eyes if he could keep Gracie from seeing.

“You said you needed to meet Olive’s dad,” Gracie says in her voice of logic. “Now you’ve met him.”

“I didn’t say you could have a playdate immediately after I met him,” John tells her. It’s true, but definitely a technicality.

“Don’t you like him?” Gracie chews on some naan.

“I like him just fine, Gracie,” John replies quickly.

“Then what’s the problem?” she picks up her glass of milk and drinks.

“I just need some time,” John finally says, unable to think of anything else. Gracie frowns and looks at him. Obviously not the response she expected and John rushes to say something that makes more sense. “I know we’ve been here a while, but it’s still all so new. Just give me a chance to get used to things, yeah?”

“Okay,” Gracie says easily after some consideration and John sighs with relief internally. She replaces her glass on the table and scoops up a forkful of matar paneer. “Having Olive for my best friend helped a lot. Maybe her dad could be your best friend.”

John sits motionless as she stuffs the fork in her mouth and begins chewing. He blinks once and the corner of his mouth lifts in the barest of smiles.

“Maybe,” is all he says before changing the subject.

***

“Dad finally met Gracie’s dad today!” Olive hoots as soon as she bursts through the door to Mrs. Hudson’s flat. The older woman throws up her hands, one holding a spoon, from where she stands in front of the stove.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Mrs Hudson declares. She bends so Olive can give her a kiss. “Do you have your playdate all scheduled then?”

“No. Her dad didn’t want to plan it yet,” Olive answers only a little disappointed now. “But we’ll have one. Mark my words.”

“I don’t doubt it, dear,” Mrs. Hudson laughs as the girl runs to the loo to wash her hands. Mrs. Hudson glances in Sherlock’s direction as he silently walks into the room. “So you met someone new. He as charming as he sounds?”

“Rather,” Sherlock says with suspicion and Mrs. Hudson looks at him directly, knowing the tone of voice well. “Has Olive mentioned Gracie’s surname to you?”

“Well, no,” Mrs. Hudson raises her eyes to the top of the door frame in thought and then rests her hands on her hips. “I don’t think she knows what it is. Surnames aren’t exactly important to children.”

“Watson,” Sherlock states plainly.

“Gracie Watson?” Mrs. Hudson asks, astonished. “And her father is a doctor. John?”

“The very same,” Sherlock nods. Mrs. Hudson stares in silence for a moment until she clasps her hands together, the spoon clutched between the two of them.

“Well, isn’t that just wonderful?” she beams at Sherlock. “After all these years. Fate has pulled you two boys together again.”

“Mm. Is it?” Sherlock mutters, ignoring her last comment and moving past her. He begins picking up glasses to fill with beverages.

“Sherlock, why on earth would you say that?” the old woman asks in disbelief.

“It wasn’t exactly a happy reunion,” Sherlock pours milk in Olive’s glass.

“Even so,” Mrs. Hudson stops abruptly at the sound of Olive’s footsteps running for them. The woman glances to see her coming and quietly scolds the younger man. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Dinner passes quickly enough with story after story from Olive about playing in the park with Gracie and how they started making up their own Nancy Drew mystery to act out. In no time at all, Sherlock and Olive are headed up the stairs to make Mycroft’s birthday cake. Olive brushes her teeth and changes into pajamas once it is in the oven and is asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

Sherlock pours two glasses of scotch and waits for his landlady to appear. Mrs. Hudson may doze off in front of the telly half the time, but never when she has promised Sherlock a talking to. It gives him some time to sort through his thoughts and he shudders as he begins to re-examine the afternoon’s conversation. John believed Sherlock knew all the details of his life and chose to ignore him. Sherlock is not the least bit surprised John noticed Mycroft’s spies. The doctor was always more perceptive than he was given credit for, even by Sherlock. Given the circumstances, John’s initial reaction makes perfect sense. 

Sherlock sighs heavily. Part of him wishes he had let Mycroft inform on John. Surely giving John the chance to spurn his efforts to contact him would have been preferable to the feeling of being ignored. Sherlock certainly would have preferred his own rejection to inflicting it upon John, even unwittingly. His shoulders sag the more he thinks and he leans into his chair. John and Gracie are alone. There is no Rosie, no Mary and Sherlock has no idea why. John wasn’t exactly forthcoming either. What could have happened? Sherlock could guess, but he doesn’t want to. The same way he didn’t read it all off John the moment he saw him, despite the temptation. He wants John to tell him himself. He wants John to want him to know, and to trust him again.

Sherlock blinks once and tries to focus on something else, like all the stories John shared about Gracie growing up, but he keeps coming back to the thought of John believing himself rejected. If Sherlock had known, if he had known any of what John had been through, he would not have been able to stop himself from reaching out. He knew Mary was the reason John had left. She was finished with London and the surgery, but mostly with Sherlock. She had enough of John running off on cases once they were married. She knew she couldn’t escape Mycroft watching her movements, but she could get rid of Sherlock. Shooting him didn’t work, so she left and John went with her. He had never acknowledged Sherlock after that. Sherlock thought it was pride or maybe that John was tired of him too. Now he knows that John thought Sherlock didn’t want to hear from him and it breaks his heart.

A noise from the hall reaches Sherlock’s ears and he shifts his gaze to the doorway as Mrs. Hudson appears. He gestures to Olive’s, formerly John’s, chair with the hand not holding the scotch. Mrs. Hudson walks to it silently and sits opposite him. She plucks up the glass he placed on the side table for her and takes a sip. Smiling and closing her eyes, Mrs. Hudson leans back against the soft red cushions and exhales deeply. She does not speak, which surprises Sherlock until the oven timer sounds. He rises, sets down his glass on the desk and heads for the kitchen. He checks the cake with a toothpick as he promised Olive, knowing she will investigate its surface for the holes. He picks up the pan with oven mitts and places it on a cooling rack.

When he returns to the sitting room and picks up his scotch glass, Mrs. Hudson looks at him and motions for him to sit this time. He smirks slightly and does, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles.

“All done, is it?” his landlady asks companionably, referring to the cake. Sherlock nods once in reply. “Good. Did you know he is Gracie’s father?”

“No,” Sherlock says with shame. “I should have worked it out. Olive told me they just moved here, but that her father lived here before. I knew he was a doctor. It’s just… I never thought he would come back. I never thought I’d see him again and didn’t even consider the possibility.”

“It’s okay, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson smiles at him kindly. “Life surprises us sometimes. Even the ones who are brilliant.”

They pause a moment, sipping their drinks and marinating in what has been said.

“Now what’s all this about John’s return not being good news?” Mrs. Hudson sits up a little straighter. “Is it Mary?”

“No. He wouldn’t be here if she was with him,” Sherlock said ruefully, taking another drink.

“Where is she?” Mrs. Hudson asks curiously while swirling her glass absently.

“I don’t know,” Sherlock replies. “He didn’t say anything about her. Not even in the context of raising Gracie. She may not even be Mary’s child.”

“Well, what about their baby?” Mrs. Hudson brings her glass to her lips. “Gracie has an older sister.”

Sherlock sighs and looks at the floor. This might be the thing that hurts the most. He obviously had no concept of parental love or the joy a child brings before Olive, but now he can easily imagine John’s pain at losing Rosie.

“Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson says slowly, her eyes reading his every movement. “Oh, Sherlock, no.”

“Yes,” he says simply. “I don’t know when or how, but she is gone.”

“Oh, dear. Poor John,” Mrs. Hudson whispers.

A few minutes pass and Sherlock suddenly finds himself telling her all about their afternoon in the park. He starts with the moment he saw John across the way, standing like a statue and Gracie running for them. Not a detail is left unsaid and by the time he is finished, Mrs. Hudson is leaning forward in her seat with rapt attention.

“So you only talked about the girls,” she states hesitantly as if testing the water. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” Sherlock answers, placing his empty glass on the floor next to his chair. “Well, he asked after Greg and Molly. I told him about you and Mycroft as well.”

“I hate to think what you said about him,” Mrs. Hudson mutters almost to herself. She looks at her wayward son with caring eyes. “Did you mention Jessie?”

“No,” Sherlock says quickly, rising to his feet and pacing. He stops at the window and gazes out over Baker Street. 

Able to tell after all these years when her boy has shut himself off, Mrs. Hudson sighs and places her glass on the side table where she found it as she stands. She walks over to the tall man and puts a hand on his arm.

“You’ll have to eventually, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson tells him gently. “He’ll have to know where Olive came from sometime.”

Sherlock’s gaze darts to hers and asks why, but he already knows the answer. There is no avoiding it. Mrs. Hudson gives him a squeeze.

“Good night, dear,” she says and walks out of the room. Sherlock hears the door to the flat open and close quietly. He turns back to the window and watches the movement on the pavement and streets. Soon he is playing his violin, the music like a soundtrack to his life. Sherlock closes his eyes to listen and consider what to do next. The image of John’s face is the only one he can see.

---

What did you think?? They finally meet and sparks fly, both in fury and fondness. Throw in a little fear, a little angst and you have the perfect Jane Johnlock story. A friend suggested I call my works Jane's Addiction, but I'm pretty sure that's under copyright. Lol. Apt description though.

Thank you all for your love and support and encouragement! I love you all. Keep you pants dry and your dreams wet, and remember, hugs not drugs. Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[glassbxttless]

“Being half-asleep is a very good look on you.” with Randy or Flip

WE LOVE RANDY HERE SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY

Randy (the intern) Solo x Reader

Word Count: 1,046

Warnings: some major fluff imo

Darkness is still peeking through the windows when Randy hears Lorelei’s whimpering and feels the nudges on his hand. He yawns and rolls out of bed to pull on sweatpants, socks, a sweater, and a hat as he grabs her leash to walk her out of the apartment and downstairs to the lawn outside. He’s rubbing sleep out of his eyes and leaning against the stairs as he lets Lorelei do her business. And then he walks her down the sidewalk to grab the mail from the box.

It was the first week in a long time he’d skipped going to his parents, he knew you needed the time with just each other. He sorts through the mail and holds the door open for Lorelei to go through first and walks them both up the stairs. He’s sighing quietly. He’s not used to being up this early and he attributes it to his late night and forgetting to take her out then. And he kicks his shoes off at the front door and unclips the leash. And Lorelei takes up the couch rather quickly as he moves back to your shared bedroom.

He watches as your body turns slightly, the rising sun’s rays coming through the window and bouncing off your bare skin. He pulls his hat off and strips his sweater before he crawls back under the blanket. He’s looking over your features. The same eyes, nose, and lips, he fell in love with. The same neck he’s littered in marks for years. The same chest he’s buried his face into, same ribs he’s cut up, same thighs he loves to kiss. You’re everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s ever needed.

He remembers meeting you at Matt and Sunny’s baby shower. He remembers that emerald green dress you wore, the brown heels and hat. The way your eyes lit up when Matt introduced the two of you. The way your name and his fell from your lips when you spoke to him quietly. Randy watches the rays move up your body and cover your face in a bright light. He brushes the scar on your cheek and chuckles softly to himself. He remembers you two chatting the entire party and helping them clean up afterwards. And he remembers the kiss he stole in front of Matt’s bathroom door. How you drug him inside and locked it behind the two of you.

Your eyes flutter as his fingertips travel down from your cheek to your jaw, tracing the skin subtly. He remembers watching you try to decorate the apartment you two had decided to rent together. How you drug him around store after store and used him as your own personal shopping cart. He wanted you to have the best home you two could ever have. The home you wanted.

And you crept more and more into his life one piece of furniture at a time. We need a new armchair, Ran and he smiles brightly as he looks at you sleeping right here in front of him. The way you’d ask him to rub your back at night or to hop into the bath with you, it continually warmed his heart so much. Randy? Do you care if we get a kitten? Was your last request, and Randy spent the entire week getting the house ready for a cat. Introducing Lorelei will be the hardest part.

And now as your body moves closer to his and you sigh sleepily eyes starting to flutter open. Randy is so in love with you, in love with the you shaped hole his heart was missing six years ago. “Good morning.” You whisper, pushing your nose against his bare chest as you curl into him. He wraps an arm around you and holds you close, hand rubbing your hip.

“Good morning.” He whispers back, lips against your forehead where he presses the gentlest of kisses. He remembers the first time you were pressed against his body like this. How much you loved being able to soak in your Randy for an entire night. How six months went by of falling asleep on phone calls and facetimes led up to you falling asleep on Randy’s chest. And now he’s here so many years later and holding you as tightly as he can. Just like the first night he did. “You sleep okay?” He asks.

You’re sleeping again, pressed close to him and wishing you never had to get up. That Sunday would last forever. He’s wishing the same thing. Matt’s been blowing up his phone for an hour now and he’s ignored every single one of the messages. Spending these sleepy moments with you is something he doesn’t get to indulge in often. And he will now, he’ll relive every single memory he can about you. About your relationship. About your love. And it isn’t long enough, Randy thinks, before you’re starting to wake again, tilting your head to look at him and smile the sleepiest little smile you’ve ever given him.

“Being half asleep is a very good look on you.” Randy smiles down at your closed eyes, pressing a kiss onto your nose. You smile a little wider. “I love you, beautiful. Let’s get some breakfast?”

“And then we can pick up the cat?” You ask softly as Randy just pulls you tighter to his body. He presses kisses into the crook of your neck and onto your shoulder and nods. “Randy!” You laugh, sleep still laced in your voice.

“Mm. We’ll pick up the cat.” He mumbles and breathes you in quietly. “You make me so happy… I’ve been thinking so much this morning and I never wanna be without you.” He mumbles.

“Don’t have to. Told you that when you wanted to marry me.” You rub your eyes sleepily and smooth back his hair as he pulls back to look at you. “Now come on, let’s go take a shower.” You push the blankets back and give Randy a squeeze on the hip. “Last one there sits with the kitten.”

And Randy laughs as he watches you climb out of bed and almost fall and bust your ass. And he remembers just why he fell in love with the dork who sleeps in his bed.

*

*

@loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @historyandfandoms50 @driversmutbucket @tashastrange89

[builder051]

The talk

Chasing Ghosts

(I generally do not play in this arena; DO NOT ask for other stories with PMS, etc., as illness features. I do loosely plan to continue this thread, though. Or @mohini-musing might pick up for me.)

Warnings: weight (though not ED context), SA inc. prostitution, blood, emeto

____________________________

Tasha comes down the hall and stands like a ghost behind the sofa.

James is in the recliner across the living room, and he barely looks up from the textbook he's pretending to peruse. The quiet music he's had playing in one ear has long since captured his attention more than the multiplication of matrices. He's fairly sure he'll never use the skill lest he become a software engineer post-graduation, and the prospect of that's looking pretty slim.

He sees Tasha out of his peripheral vision, but doesn't move his head or lift his eyes for acknowledgment. She's probably drifted down from her weekend high, realized it's Sunday night, and gotten up for a Gatorade and maybe a glance at her homework.

Steve, though, who's lying on his stomach and taking up the whole of the couch, practically jumps to attention. He stands, scoots, and sits again in the amount of time it takes James to blink and make the first inhalation of a laugh.

"Sorry," Steve says, as if he's personally offended Tasha and just been called out. "I didn't mean... I was just, like, studying..."

Tasha shrugs. "Didn't come to sit with you," she says, in a voice that recalls the 'boys are gross' tone of young teenagerhood.

"What's up, then?" James asks, trying to bring back the balance of the room's atmosphere.

Tasha makes an ugly face. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. "Can I talk to you alone?"

James scoffs. "You think there's privacy in this apartment?"

"I can go, I don't know--" Steve looks around.

"Just talk," James says. He almost rolls his eyes, but the undercurrent of Tasha's affect seems to hold an air of seriousness. If there's something she needs to confess or ask for help with, he doesn't want her to feel less than secure.

Tasha lets out a breathy sort of sigh. "Blood," she says. "There's blood."

"Huh?" Steve responds first. "Where?"

James takes a little longer to contemplate the admission. Has she cut herself? There's no visible damage; Tasha's not holding an injury or howling in pain. Bloody vomit? That's nothing new, really, and even with vampire-red teeth, which she doesn't have, Tasha probably wouldn't come crying to him.

James is still thinking when Tasha points vaguely down the hall and to the left, which is, technically speaking, her side of the apartment. Or at least the bedroom and bathroom they'd parceled out for her when they'd unofficially moved her out of her dreary campus housing.

"What, in your room?" Steve asks.

"No." Tasha screws up her eyes. "I mean... I'm bleeding."

The cogs continue to turn in James's head, and just as he lands on an answer, Steve gives up, shaking his head and saying, "I don't get it."

"Fuck you," Tasha mumbles. "Both of you." She turns and starts to head back down the hallway.

"Tash." James jumps to his feet, his algebra book falling to the floor.

"You guys are fucking gay..."

"Hey!" Steve interjects.

James flaps his hand at Steve to shut him up. "Maybe we're gay, but I'm your big brother." He shoots a quick glance at Steve, hoping this won't surpass his no privacy promise. They've done some pretty wild stuff together: partying, puking, cleaning the carpet... Period talk shouldn't be too far out of their wheelhouse. At least, not if Tasha wants to talk about it.

Tasha huffs and rounds the edge of the sofa. She stands beside the arm, leaning her hip against it for a moment, before finally deciding to sit down, as far away from Steve as possible.

"I..." James starts, assuming it's his responsibility to keep the conversation going. "I assumed you hadn't been, um. You know."

Tasha's 100 pounds soaking wet. In her usual cutoff shorts and tank tops, he'd give her 95. Maybe 92 if she's detoxing. James assumes she has something like female athlete triad going on, except without the athlete. He doesn't like to think she's just too skinny to go through... normal biological processes. If he blames the drugs, sees them as wrecking her body instead of bringing her solace, then he'll have to turn eyes on himself, and there's no way in hell he wants to do that.

"Smart one," Tasha says. "And exactly how much thought do you give to the functioning of my uterus?"

Steve gives an 'oh shit' face, looking from James to Tasha and back again as if wondering how he's been so thick headed. James agrees, but is also relieved, in a way, that his boyfriend hasn't been thinking about his sister in, well, that way.

"Seeing as I have, more than once, pulled you out of an R-rated situation with iffy consent, and you have yet to become pregnant--" James starts.

"Yeah, ok, you don't have to..." Tasha shakes her head.

James decides not to stop his momentum. "Do you know how much sex you're having? How often you're using protection?"

"I said, you don't have to." Tasha glares at him. "I don't have one. A cycle, or whatever. I can't get knocked up."

"Well, I figured that, but you can still get an STD--

"I don't think you're hearing me," Tasha says. "I don't have one. I haven't. Like, ever."

"But--what?" James squints and cocks his head. "What about, what was it? Cheerleading camp?"

"That stupid summer program when I was 16?" Tasha bites her lip. "Yeah, that was a lie."

"You're losing me." Steve reminds them he's part of the conversation as well.

"What, didn't your mom send you to cheerleading camp when you were a sullen teen?" Tasha asks him, seemingly in all seriousness.

"Um. No." Steve withers a little under her stare. "There was a threat to beat it out of me with a bible when I was that age, but that never came to fruition."

"Mm. Fun times." Tasha scrubs her hair back from her face. "I told mom of the moment I started at camp, so then she couldn't go nuts about the moment I 'became a woman,' or whatever."

Tasha has always seemed like a little kid to James. Her stint at camp had only taken place... he quickly calculates... 3ish years ago. Tasha is a kid. She hasn't busted 20 years old yet. But, for the first time James wonders if other, more metaphorical factors are at play.

The idea quickly fades, though, when he remembers the actual topic at hand. "Ok, but Tash," James says. "What's actually going on right now?"

Tasha practically sinks into the couch cushions. She wraps both arms around her abdomen. "Blood," she says. "Kinda...everywhere."

"We'll clean the bathroom later," James says dismissively.

"And I'll do laundry," Steve offers. "I used to be the scrawny kid who got beat up a lot. I can do bloodstains."

"Not helping, babe," James tells him before Tasha can get a word in.

"Feel sick," Tasha admits, rather suddenly.

"Bathroom it is, then," James decides. "But, let's use mine."

Tasha seems to have turned into a shapeless blob on the corner of the couch, her chest meeting her thighs with her arms still wrapped around her stomach. Her face is in her knees, which James has to admit, would be easier to clean than the carpet.

"Come on," he says gently, taking Tasha's shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, don't do it here, please."

"But I already diiiiid," Tasha complains, drawing out the last word and adding the hiccup of a fake crying fit.

"Sorry." James hooks his flesh arm across Tasha's chest and lets her cling to him down the hall. He takes her into his and Steve's disorganized yet bleach-shined bathroom. Cleaning was practically Steve's hobby. Yet keeping down the clutter? Not his strong suit.

Unsure of exactly what kind of sick his sister intends to be, he sets her down, fully clothed, on the toilet, which, of course, has the seat up. Then he dives for the trash can and shoves it into Tasha's chest.

She gives James an appreciative glare, then sets her chin on the edge of the trash can, ostensibly to wait for an upcoming retch. James can practically see it, rising from the bottom of her spine, up her back, to her neck and throat before finally pushing a pitiful amount of spit and bile out of her mouth.

"Ok..." James sighs. If she's down to just that, she's been at it a while. Lost a lot of fluids already.

"Gatorade?" Steve asks in a chipper tone, putting voice to what James is thinking without a trace of delicacy.

"Hmph." Tasha spits. "If it'll... make it stop burning..."

"Lemme guess, vodka last night?" James tries to make her laugh. Maybe cough.

"Fuck you."

"Eh, we'll talk about that later," James says, hoping he doesn't sound threatening. "For now, how about I go with you?" James pulls on Steve's arm and heads for the bathroom door.

"Hey, you said no privacy here..." Tasha's irritated and sickly voice trails after them.

"Yeah, well, puking people aren't allowed to leave the bathroom," James says. "That's the house rule that trumps all the others."

"But I puke on the couch all the time--"

"That's because it's too hard to get your fucking limp-ass octopus body into the bathroom in the first place." James rolls his eyes. "Just sit tight."

He quickly drags Steve into the kitchen. "Ok," he says. "You have to know about this stuff. You took health class in high school, right?"

"I've lived with a woman," Steve reminds James, a little shamefully. "But Peggy was super private. You know, like inhibited, about, like, um..."

"Yeah, I get it." James shrugs. Then, "Did you know you can stem a nosebleed with a tampon?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know..." James shakes his head.

"Why do you?" Steve looks a little take aback now.

"The field. Desert air's pretty damn dry."

"Ah. Ok."

"We'd get donations of shit from the states. Care packages, Costco overstock, you know. Just, whatever. When we got pads and stuff, whoever was unloading the box would just hold them over their head and yell 'who needs them?'"

"And I'm assuming people would just raise their hands?" Steve postulates.

"Yup." James pops the P. "No privacy. Everyone knows everyone else's bathroom habits. When you're deep in the field, there's no men's and women's facilities. Half the time the privies don't even have doors."

"Ok." Steve nods. "Experience, then. You have lots of experience."

James shrugs again. "You have to be chill, ok?" He opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. He holds one to either side of Steve's neck, as if to physically cool him. "This is, like, super weird and awkward for her. She's really scared, I think, and her brave face just looks...jerk-ish."

"Yeah." Steve takes the Gatorade. "I can be good with this. I really care about her, even if she doesn't think I do."

"I know you do," James says. "It's all in the presentation right now, though. She's skittish. But, also, for some reason, willing to talk. We have to tease it out. And you can't ruin it, ok?"

"Ok, ok." Steve seems to understand, even if he doesn't appreciate the words.

They head back to the bathroom, where Tasha has, for whatever reason, decided to heave into the toilet instead of the trash. She squats awkwardly, sitting on one heel. From the angle he's at, James can see a spreading stain on the back of Tasha's shorts, which has made an imprint on her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Don't move," James says, reaching for a towel.

"The fuck would I?" Tasha coughs, holding her stomach and moaning.

"Well, when you're done, stand up slowly and wipe your feet."

"...Shit..." Tasha spits. "Like I said. It's fucking everywhere."

"Yeah..." Menstrual blood, James has no experience with. But blood in general, yeah. It does get fucking everywhere. There's that first moment when the entire body and all its systems are still in shock, like when the arm is first blown off, and then all he can see is red. Even the bone that was white just a second ago is lost in a sea of scarlet--

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Steve says with a grin, clearly trying to be friendly, but missing out on one, or more, of the points. "You're not pregnant."

"Well, of course I'm not, you dingbat," Tasha replies, rolling her eyes so hard that James is sure it must give her a headache. If she doesn't already have one. "And besides. He used a condom."

"Wait," James says. He's been preoccupied by not looking at Steve. "You know that?" he pokes cautiously. "For sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Every time?"

"To be honest," Tasha starts, spitting and pushing herself away from the toilet. She crab-walks to the towel, wipes her feet, then sits on it, criss-cross like a little kid. "I don't know if he actually gets off every time." She draws her mouth into a straight, defensive line.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" James asks.

Steve looks very much like he wants to get the bleach from the cabinet under the sink, pour it into one ear, tip his head, and see if it comes out the other.

"He pulls out," Tasha says bluntly. "And there's never any, you know. Gunk."

"Wait, he does both?" Steve's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "A condom and--"

"Ok, ok." James puts up his hands to shush them both. "And this is, what, this is your dealer we're talking about?"

"Yeah, I guess, if you want to call him that," Tasha says with a shrug.

"What else would we call him?" Steve now looks disgusted. "That'd be stupid to let him just, like, defile you every week."

"He doesn't--" Tasha starts, but then she hiccups, and maybe thinks better of what she was going to say. She still stares Steve down, though, then looks to James as if grasping at straws of support.

"He's, like, a manufacturer?" Tasha turns her gaze sideways.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." James puts his hand over his face. He'd assumed Tasha was getting her stuff on the street, through a framework of various interlopers. Now he's getting news that his kid sister is taking substances thrown together in some coed's bathtub? This is too much.

"Tash--" James starts, trying hard to keep his bubbling anger and concern from spilling over.

"He's a PhD candidate," Tasha says defensively. In Chemistry. And--" her eyes flicker from side to side as she seems to wonder what's appropriate to spill. "I won't tell you his name. But... I'll tell you that he got kicked off the football team for being too violent, but he still wears his green jersey all the time to prove how much better and calmer he's become since that happened, which was only in the freshman year of his undergrad..." Tasha babbles on.

The more she defends the guy, the more James hates him. He feels bad for him a little, slinging synthesized crack to get by. He feels better for Tasha, knowing that what she's taking is most probably pure. But the sex thing is--

"It's kinda creepy," Steve says, taking the words right from James's mouth. "Like, how much older than you is he?"

"I don't know." Tasha shrugs. "Not that much, I don't think. Started school early, finished fast. And I'm not sure this is his first post-graduate program..."

"Maybe shouldn't've added that last part," James says, screwing up his eyes. "So he's had, like, however long to prey on girls who are barely legal. Who might not even be legal..."

"Well, I'm legal, and I can do what I want." Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," James sighs. "Unfortunately."

"But what about the thing with the handcuffs? The gang rape? Losing your bra?" Steve blurts out.

"Wait, you..." Tasha's eyes flash with anger. "You told him?"

"What did I say about privacy?" James quickly reminds her. "The non-puking kind? And, um," He looks to Steve. "Maybe a little respect?"

"Sorry," Steve mutters. "But--I really do--"

"I don't really remember that stuff," Tasha says.

James studies her face, but he can't tell if she's lying.

"Probably just party stuff that got out of hand."

'You mean you were too stoned to know the difference between your regular and some random dude off the street,' James thinks. 'What do you do at parties? And how the fuck do you slip past me?'

"He's your pimp, too, isn't he?" Steve asks, pointing at Tasha rather accusatorially, in James's opinion.

"No!" Tasha leans forward and brings her arms down to cover her clearly still sore abdomen. "Bruce wouldn't--" She swallows. "I didn't-- You didn't hear--"

James hasn't been a student long enough to know who was on the football team 4, 5, 6-odd years ago. He supposes he could look it up, crossing the name with accounts of any violent incident that amount of time ago. He's not sure he wants to, though he'll probably wind up looking it up later. Either that, or Steve will. James still has his ex-mil connections, a few of which were absorbed into the local police force. Steve, on the other hand, is better with social media and navigating the niceties of such mysteries as SnapChat and TikTok.

"Ok, fine," James says, just ameliorate his sister's panic.

"He doesn't even drug me at parties," Tasha goes on, probably unaware of how terribly young and desperate she sounds, making lame-ass excuses so she can keep her boy toy.

"And you've had other guys who did?" Steve asks incredulously, even though James shakes his head frantically at him to try to get him to shut up.

"You know Rumlow?" Tasha asks, since apparently she's now all about spilling names.

James shakes his head, but Steve screws up his eyes and says in a disgusted voice, "him?"

"Yeah..." Tasha sighs and looks down at her fingernails, which are stained rust-red at the root. "Remember the night I didn't come home?"

"Yeah, and scared the living shit out of us because your phone was off," James fills in the blanks.

"Well, I didn't turn it off."

"You mean that asshole kept you overnight without any means of getting yourself out of there?" Steve looks downright sick. "I mean, I know he looks slimy, but that?"

"I think Maria accidentally slept on the couch and found me at, like, 6am trying to stick my head in the linen closet because I couldn't find the bathroom." Tasha laughs, though the situation is anything bur funny.

"And I was so pissed at her for having you out all night..." James trails off.

"Yeah, maybe respect my choices a little more?" Tasha glares at him. "I mean, Maria's studying to become an EMT now. You can't think that badly of her."

'Great,' James thinks. 'Someone who'll drug Tasha to the gills every weekend.' She'll be less likely to overdose, but James has seen it all too often in the field. Newly minted medical personnel eager to sow off their skills and rushing into action.

"Yeah," James says, trying not to smirk. "So you got a girlfriend and a boyfriend now?"

"Ew, no," Tasha replies. "Friends with...benefits, I guess. If you even want to call it that. Folks who look out for each other, using a barter system?"

"Did you recently take World History?" James can't help but poking at her vocabulary.

"Fucking-a, I don't know. Once I pass, it's in my past."

"That's actually a good motto," Steve points out.

"Anyway," James says, bringing the conversation back to topic. "None of your...friends... are invited to this house."

"It's not like I want to bring them over for dinner," Tasha replies. "I guess drop off and pickup might happen, since, well, you know now, and I don't have a car." She shrugs. "Cool?"

James hates the idea of someone inebriated driving a car in which his sister is a passenger, despite the fact that he's done it before. Regularly, actually. Maybe he just hates the idea of the driver being someone who Tasha just fucked. The air might be heavy between them. They might smell like each other's deodorant and musk. They might kiss each other good bye. The thought makes James's stomach turn.

But, "sure," he says. "That's fine.” At least she'll come home.

James shares a glance with Steve, which seems to confirm the same sentiments, "Yeah," Steve echoes, as if his opinion counts for anything. "Fine."

[everybodyscupoftea]

Ooo yes a part 2 for that new pike Jj

for sure for sure, gonna fix it!

(i know i said it’ll be up “in a bit” hours ago but time isn’t real anyway)

5 times she makes him suffer and 1 time they talk it out

same warnings as before :)

so you were pretty hurt, understandably so, jj had invalidated your feelings and, in your eyes, showed you exactly where your friendship ranked on his priority list. not a stellar night for the frat boy.

one:

sunday mornings were for brunch. jj picked you up and the two of you drove to a diner near campus. you’d been doing it for so long that all the workers knew you both by name and your normal orders. it started as a hangover thing freshman year but quickly turned into just a normal event.

that sunday, you got a text at the usual time, that read outside.

normally you’d go downstairs, but instead, you texted him not hungry and left it at that. your feelings were still pretty hurt and you’d rather have some space than possibly yell at him if he tried to push it under the rug or ignore that it happened all together.

before you had time to reconsider, he sent back i said i’m sorry

that strengthened your resolve and you put your phone down with an eye roll. he still seemed to be missing the whole fucking point.

two:

studying or doing homework in your room was never really the best option for you. for one thing, your desk was full of clothes and random shit, so anytime you wanted to do work, it had to be done on your bed. secondly, everything in your room became infinitely more interesting when the other option was homework.

so, you really tried to move around between the library and some coffee shops in the area to do your work and study. unfortunately, jj knew all of your study spots, and you still didn’t really want to see him.

it wasn’t even really about revenge, you really wanted to be the better person, rise above, all that jazz, but you were so scared you’d lash out and ruin things more than they already felt. plus, you wanted to make him suffer a little, and the dorm was the only of those places he couldn’t get into.

you’d told jj that you weren’t going to be in the library that afternoon, but he called you anyway.

“hello,” you answered, a little coldly.

“hey,” he sounded hesitant, “i got coffee and our table.”

“i cleaned my desk off so i’m just going to do the last bit of my homework here.”

“oh.”

“yeah, so i’ll talk to you later,” you said, trying to end the conversation.

“see you in class?” he asked, hopefully.

“yeah, sure.”

three:

so maybe you were still feeling a little petty. but to be fair, it was still fresh. you always beat jj to class, it was your first of the day and he had one before. the girl who sat directly across the room from you was sitting in the hall when you walked up, and you got an idea.

sliding down next to her, you cleared your throat, “hey, um, are you particularly attached to your spot in the room?”

she gave you a weird look, “i mean i’m not ready to marry it, but i like it fine enough.”

you laughed, “yeah, i was just wondering if you’d be willing to switch for the day.”

her eyebrows shot up, “depends on why. aren’t you and that blonde kid really good friends?”

with a sigh, you answered, “yeah, but he kinda blew me off the other day and it hurt my feelings. just trying to get back at him.”

she nodded, look of understanding crossing her face, “got it, we’ll switch for today.”

“god, you’re a lifesaver.”

reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, she said, “anytime.”

it was actually kind of nerve wracking waiting on jj to show up. you watched his look of confusion at the girl sitting in your normal seat next to his and then him scanning the room to find you. his face absolutely fell when he saw you sitting and you averted your eyes, not wanting to be caught staring.

the entire class you could feel him staring at you, and every time you looked up, he was pouting. you had a class across campus right after that one, so as soon as the professor dismissed you, you were packed and gone before jj could get across the room.

four:

since you’d pretty much locked yourself in your dorm room outside of class and jj couldn’t find you, he’d resorted to blowing up your phone.

hey we still on for lunch today?

guess not about the lunch...library later? i need some help with finance

wait, what problems do we have to finish for stats

want me to bring you some coffee tomorrow morning, i can swing by dunkin on the way to class

eventually ending with one that pulled on your heartstrings a little.

are you ever going to talk to me again?

you typed how’s it feel asshole into the message before thinking better of it and deleting it without sending. 

five:

about halfway through the week, doing homework in your room just wasn’t cutting it anymore. you couldn’t focus and every time you sat on your bed, you immediately grew tired. eventually, you decided to just face the music and head to the library.

you were kind of hoping jj wouldn’t be there and that your table would be empty, but it wasn’t and he was. freezing, you ducked out of view before he could look up and see you. your options were very limited of places you could go without having to actually walk past him.

with lack of better plan, you sank to the ground and leaned against one of the stacks of books, pulling your stuff out to get some work done. it wasn’t comfortable, but you already felt more productive than in your room.

and then he found you, sitting on the ground, crouched in a weird position, trying to do some history work. he cleared his throat, arms crossed in front of him, “comfortable?” he asked.

“yes.”

he rolled his eyes, “you’re really going to sit on the floor instead of sitting with me?”

“for the time being.”

“come on, just give it up.”

you cocked your head, glaring at him, “give it up? give what up?”

jj sighed loudly, “you know what i mean, this is getting ridiculous.”

straightening your shoulders, you ignored the pain in your back, and glared at him, “my feelings aren’t ridiculous. i’ll see you around, maybank.”

+ one:

you finally decided to air things out four days later. jj was sitting at your usual spot outside the chick-fil-a, not paying attention, when you sat down across from him. he looked up, clearly ready to say something, and froze when he saw you.

“haven’t seen you in a while.”

“i’m ready to talk about it,” you told him, unwrapping your food.

he nodded, “okay, i’ll start with an apology. it wasn’t cool of me, i’m sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows, “not cool of you seems a little understated.”

with a little laugh, jj added to the apology, “yeah, i got distracted and i forgot what day it was.”

“it happens i guess,” you told him, “but i was mostly upset because it made me feel like an inconvenience to you. i know your life doesn’t revolve around me and i know studying on a saturday afternoon isn’t as fun as a party, but a little heads up would’ve been nice.”

“it’s not that,” he defended, “you know i love spending time with you right? no matter what we do it’s fun because it’s us. i’ve never had a bad time. and by the way it took me five hours to do my finance homework without you.”

you laughed, “yeah, it was hard. and look, i don’t want you to lie to me, it’s okay if you didn’t want to come. just tell me next time.”

“i know this seems like a cop out, but my phone was in my room charging, it died around when we started drinking and by the time i was drunk, i’d forgotten i’d moved it in the first place.”

“i believe you,” you told him with one last sigh, finally letting it go.

“hugs?” he asked, standing and holding his arms out.

you smiled and stood, walking around the table to hug him. he squeezed you close, burying his face into your neck, and whispered, “there, best friend position restored.”

“yep, my best friend,” you responded weakly, heart sinking a little at the last word.