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#my posture is better because i have to look up at my laptop screen instead of down
xxcherrycherixx · 6 months
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(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
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meditating-dog-lover · 7 months
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Steps in dealing with pain
Like I mentioned in my previous post, there are a good amount of things that make me feel pain.
The things I can really focus on now (Oct 2023) is exercising more. I've changed my diet for the better, my sleep has improved, my breathing improved thanks to my tongue-tie release, I'm working on my posture and stretches (not yet but I'll get there), and now I can deal with physical activity.
When I go home and for most of the time when I am home, I am on my laptop watching Youtube videos and playing game son my phone. I would love to make the goal of having less screen time in general (both phone and laptop, especially phone) because I have a screen addiction (even at work I cannot go 2 minutes without checking my phone).
So at home I want to dedicate a bit of time after work to go for a brisk walk or to do a circuit instead of wasting away time in front of a laptop screen.
And I've been looking at my progress photos on my phone, I've lost weight in the past before. I'm not saying this to cope, I'm saying it because it's true. The combination of healthy eating, brisk walking, and circuit training burns fat effectively (provided I am walking fast and not strolling and pacing slowly like I would when walking my dogs or at work AND my circuits make me sweat). I've seen weight loss following this method in late 2021 and noticed that I gan weight when I stop this habit. In this regard, I also don't have to be very strict with my diet if I want to lose weight, but I want to eat healthy anyways because I've done such a great job with that this year and stopped getting cravings thanks to my supplements.
Only downside is that these workouts are challenging and that building the habit of exercising instead of being in front of an addictive screen is also challenging. It's a habit I need to build just like any other habit I've built in the past.
Additionally, as someone who has severe anxiety and the occasional bouts of depression, sitting in front of a screen is just more subliminally depressing. I may sit there and play a game and watch. a video that will keep me busy and distracted, but in the grand scheme of things it is depressing. It's just a habit I need to slowly grow out of. There is so much beauty to the world out there that sitting in front of a screen makes me miss out on.
So replacing that time I would spend in front of a computer with a brisk walk will help. And I need regular physical activity to be healthy. My mom and sister will eventually notice I've adopted this habit and stop being judgmental on my appearance.
I am self-conscious about my health in general to building this new healthy habit will help me psychologically as well.
And as for the workout challenge - for fat loss I have 2 options - dietary and caloric restrictions OR normal diet and exercise. Pick the least hardest. II hate dieting and it is very triggering and difficult for me. While exercise is not easy, it is the more tolerable of the 2.
Keep this habit up for 5-6 weeks and see where it takes you.
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yourmcu · 3 years
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Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)
Request:
Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.
A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)
Word count: 3,984
(more notes at the end!)
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals
read it on ao3!
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gif not mine! credits to the owner^^
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Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.
You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.
The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.
You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:
“I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”
“Maybe later.”
At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.
You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.
There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.
“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.
He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.
But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.
And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.
As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.
“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.
He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”
You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”
“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.
Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”
“I’m... I’m sorry-”
“Just get out of here.”
Your arm remained untreated after that.
Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.
You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.
“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.
“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”
“Y/N Stark.”
Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”
You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”
After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.
Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.
The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.
You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”
Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.
“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”
“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”
Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”
On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.
“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”
You let out a snort. Of course he would.
“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”
“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”
“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”
“That’s not what I-”
“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.
Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.
You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.
“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.
Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”
“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”
You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”
----
The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.
Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.
“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.
“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”
The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”
Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.
“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”
To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.
----
You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.
Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.
You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.
“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.
Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”
He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.
“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”
You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”
He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.
“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”
“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”
Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…
“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”
You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.
“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.
But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.
“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”
You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.
Knife, shoulder, really deep.
Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.
“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.
With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.
-----
A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?
Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.
Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.
They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.
Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.
Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.
You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.
“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”
“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“
“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.
After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.
The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.
“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”
“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”
“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.
“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.
Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.
“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”
“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”
“Take it easy-”
“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”
“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace. 
“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”
“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.
“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”
Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.
He’s never looked at you like that before.
Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.
“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.
Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.
Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.
Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.
Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.
They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.
“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.
You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”
The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.
“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”
Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.
“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.
You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.
“Ducky?”
Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.
“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.
“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.
You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.
“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”
No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”
Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”
Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.
“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”
He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”
Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”
“From the bottom of my heart.”
You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“
“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”
“Of course.”
Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.
----
TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden
DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE
I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))
also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)
WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.
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atlafan · 4 years
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Office Neighbors - Part One
a/n: OKAY! this is my new love, professor!Harry x professor!Y/N. This is a slow burn, so buckle up because it’s going to be a longgggg ride. enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread
warnings:none yet...I suppose some fluff? slight angst?? 
words: 20K
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You were all cozied up in bed, in a cocoon of blankets. Even though it was August, your apartment had central air, and it was glorious. You loved nothing more than practically sleeping in a burrito of blankets year round. It was a new place to go along with your new job.
Y/F/N Y/L/N, Adjunct Professor, Communication Department: that was your new title. You had your master’s degree, and now you could finally move on to get your PhD. Your specialization was social media and the like, but you also had background in rhetoric and film. The few faculty that served on your search committee were quite impressed with the research you had already started conducting. Your main research was about the pros and cons of anonymity online. The school was a perfect fit. You would be teaching a couple of the intro courses for the major, and some special topics courses.
Today was faculty orientation. You would be given yet another tour of the university, go through some technology workshops, and be shown to your office. You were excited because you hadn’t been able to meet all of your faculty yet, and you’d be going to your first faculty meeting towards the end of the day.
You check your phone and see that it’s going to be in the mid 80’s today. You sigh and get up to start your morning routine. Once your face is washed and your teeth are brushed, you rummage through your closet to see what would be the most appropriate thing to wear. A flowy dress, in theory, would be a good idea, but the idea of sweating between your legs didn’t sound all that great. You settle on a pair of emerald green shorts that fall just above your knee, perfectly appropriate length for school. Plus, they were just a cute pair of shorts in general. You pair it with a white short-sleeve blouse, and tuck it into the shorts to show the shape of your body. Next, you needed to tackle your hair. You could leave it down, but sweat and humidity were not your friends. You had gotten into the habit of parting your hair down the middle more, you were twenty-six now it was okay to go with your natural part. You thought it made you look more adult, whatever that meant. So, you part it, and pull up each side to make pig tails, then you create a bun on each side. You looked professional, but fun. Just the vibe you were going for. You only apply a little makeup, in fear of it melting off of you. You slip on a pair of white tennis shoes for comfort, gather your laptop and other things, and head out.
Rolling through Dunkin Donuts, you treat yourself with a vanilla late instead of your usual, it was your first day after all. You’re not feeling too hungry yet, so you don’t get anything to eat. A college habit that just hasn’t died yet: barely eating anything until the late afternoon. You park at the building where your last meeting of the day will be, always thinking ahead. You sip on your coffee and enjoy your stroll across the beautiful campus to your first meeting of the day. There were a few people in the classroom, and you shyly smile and wave as you take a seat.
Policies and procedures are talked about after everyone in the cohort introduces themselves. You notice that you’re the only CM hire, there were three math hires, two for history, one for CS, two for art, and two for CJ. Some seemed to be around your age, and other seemed older. Everyone was friendly enough. You observed everyone’s posture and body language. You couldn’t help it, you were practically trained to read rooms and people.
The campus tour isn’t anything new. This was about the fifth time you had been walked around by some students to show you where things were, but it was nice to get outside for a good walk. You’re given a break for lunch, and you opt to eat outside at one of the open picnic benches. You notice that most people wanted to eat alone. It was a lot of social time, you yourself didn’t mind the break from talking and sharing.
After lunch are the technology workshops, making sure your account was set up and that you knew how to edit your courses in moodle. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but it was something everyone had to do. Luckily, as a first year professor, you wouldn’t be given any advisees. That you were thankful for. You had taught before, of course, and you loved helping students, but you wanted to make sure you had a good handle on the curriculum before telling students what they should be taking for courses.
Around 3PM a student comes to show you to your academic building, and escort you to your new office before your faculty meeting. There’s a bit of chit chat between the two of you before they open the door to the overly hot building. You cough when you first enter from the humidity.
“Don’t worry, it’s only like this for the first couple of weeks.” She says and you nod.
She guides you straight in where the communication lounge was. Wow, an entire lounge, you think to yourself. There were a few couches and three offices on the main level. A flat screen TV projecting student projects across from one of the couches. She takes you down a spiral staircase where there were four other offices, one vacant for you. There were two computer clusters, a projects and screen, and more couches. You already liked that it seemed to be an interactive space for students.
“Looks like you got the one with the window.” She smiles. “Have a nice day.”
“Thank you so much.” You beam at the student that you’ll probably never see again.
The door was open for you, and two sets of keys were sitting on your desk. The office was bare just waiting for your interior design ideas to be splashed all over it. Your desk was L-shaped with two monitors and a laptop plugged into a docking station. At least you didn’t have to wait to be given your school sanctioned computer. You smile when you see that you were given a Mac as requested. You look at your one window and take a picture so you could find curtains for it. You open and close all of drawers just to make sure there was nothing left behind inside the desk. There were two seats on the other side of the desk for what you would assume would be for student meetings. You could get better ones. You also definitely had room for a small couch, a love seat perhaps.
“Well, look at that, I finally got a new neighbor.”
You jump slightly and turn around. There were a couple of reasons that you were slightly started. Whoever it was that was speaking to you had a deep, gravel-like voice, and they had a British accent. Not totally uncommon at a university, but still something you weren’t expecting. You were also started because no one else was downstairs with you. As you turn around, your cheeks flush when you take in the man with the toothy smile before you.
He was wearing a loose pair of jeans with a couple of rips in them, beaten up white sneakers with different color laces, and a light blue t-shirt. You barely have time to take in his tattoos, or the thick rim of his glasses before he speaks again.
“I’m so sorry, did I startle you?”
“Only slightly.” You give him a half smile. “I’m Y/N.” She extends her hand out to him and he takes it, shaking it gently.
“I’m Harry.”
“Ah! Dr. Styles, yeah. You were away when all of my interviews were happening.”
“Yes, I was away at a conference, but I heard great things. And please, just call me Harry. We’re not a very formal group.” He smirks.
“So, your office is the one next to mine?”
“That’s right.” He nods towards it, and you step out to look at his door.
Dr. Harry Styles, PhD was on his door along with a paper with his office hours printed on it.
“You’re lucky you got one with a window right away, I’m surprised no one wanted to snatch it up. The two across from us don’t have windows, but maybe some people don’t really care about that. I happen to enjoy looking out the window to see what’s happening when my eyes need a rest from the screen.”
You nod your head and peep inside his office. He had put his desk in the back corner of the room. So if students were to come see him, his back would be to them and they could easily see whatever he was doing on the computer, but you notice he also has a corner set up with a few chairs and around coffee table. Perhaps he’s able to discuss things easier this way. Many ideas pop into your head about how you might like to set things up.
“There’s a really great consignment shop downtown with quality furniture for cheap. That’s where I got those that table and chairs.”
“Thanks.” You squint at the three diplomas framed one the wall, and a couple of certifications as well. He had a small shelf with a couple of awards too. “What’s your PhD in?”
“At the base level, Media Studies, but my master’s was in Literary Dynamics. I’m a bit of a book worm as you can see.” He points to the bookshelf full of worn books and you smile. “Got my doctorate here, same as you’re doing, and they offered me a tenure position. Been here about six years total now, I love it.”
You think for a moment to try to put together how old he might be. There was a boyishness to his features, but he also had crinkles around his eyes and a few specs of grey in his hair. Then again, so did you. You greyed early, not that anyone would know since you get highlights in your hair.
“I turn thirty-two in February, if that’s what you were wondering.”
“Oh…I wasn’t, um, I-“
“It’s okay.” He chuckles. “Shall we head up to the faculty meeting? They sent me down here to get you.”
“Yeah, let’s get to it.” You quickly grab your laptop and follow him up the spiral staircase, trying not to look at his butt too much.
He leads you down a hall to a room used for meetings. A large table with people sitting around it casually, a few you recognize from your search committee.
“Y/N!” Lisa, the department chair, exclaims. “Glad Harry found you, come in.” Everyone turns their attention towards you and you smile. You sit down, and Harry goes to sit at the other end of the table. “Right, so let’s go round the table to introduce ourselves to Y/N. Let’s tell her what courses we all teach as well. I’m Lisa, obviously, I teach Game Design and Senior Seminar. I used to teach more, but so it goes when you’re the department chair.”
“Hi, Y/N, I’m Andre, I teach Communication Theory, Digital Media in the New Age, and Journalism.”
“I’m Mateo, good to see you again.” He smiles and you nod. “I teach Tech Comm, Intercultural Communication, and Strategic Communication.”
“I’m Sandra, I teach Global Perspectives in the Media, Film and Video Production Techniques, and basically any other film production courses.” She laughs.
“I’m Harry.” He gives you that same toothy smile. “I teach Communication, Media, and Wellness, Media Effects, Analyzing Screen Media, Literature into Film, and The Craft of Screenwriting.”
“I’m Janette, I teach Philosophy of Communication, Advanced Composition, and Interactive Web Communication.”
“Wonderful, thank you everyone. Don’t worry, Y/N, our admin Lucas will email you all of this info if he hasn’t already.”
“That’s alright, thank you.” She smiles.
“Why don’t you tell everyone what courses you’ll be teaching this fall and spring?”
“Well, this fall I’ll be teaching Communication and Media Studies, Media and Cultural Studies, and Social Media: Technology and Culture. Then in the spring I’ll teach the two intro courses, along with Professional Social Media, and Rhetoric and Semiotics.”
“We’re so happy to have you aboard.” Lisa smiles.
Lisa goes on to explain any policy or curriculum changes. Y/N notices how casual the group is, and also how diverse the group is. It was nice to see.
“Now, I know it’s your first day, and you just moved to the area…feel free to say no, but we’re all headed downtown to the pub for dinner if you’d like to join us.” Lisa says at the end of the meeting.
“That would be great! I haven’t gotten the chance to eat downtown much.”
“Oh, you’ll love the pub.” Sandra says. “Best nachos I’ve ever had.”
You smile and stand with everyone. You notice that everyone just simply walks downtown. You run to your car quickly to drop her bag off, and continues the walk. You all go in and grab a table for seven. You slide into the booth and Harry slides in next to you, followed by Janette and Sandra. Lisa, Mateo, and Andre all sit in the chairs across from you. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable drinking in front of your colleagues just yet, but you order a vodka-tonic anyways just to be social.
“Sandra’s right, they do have the best nachos here.” Lisa says. “Should we just get a couple of orders of that? We could do one with chicken and one without.”
“I can just pick it off, don’t be silly.” Harry says.
“I, uh , don’t eat meat either, and I can also just pick it off.” You speak up.
“Oh, please.” Lisa scoffs. “We can get one with and one without, no problem.”
“You don’t eat meat?” Harry turns to you slightly.
“Um, no.” He was very close to you, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You just met him. You take a sip of your drink so your mouth doesn’t feel so dry. “My doctor told me to cut out red meat, and then I got sick of chicken and stuff, so I just cut it all out.” You shrug.
“Things were sort of the same with me, I just didn’t like how it made me feel after eating it. There’s other ways to get protein. I eat a lot of beans and nuts.”
“Right.” You were curious as to why he was being so open with you.
“Course, I feel like I’m starved half the time, don’t know if that happens to you, but I always keep granola bars in my office if you ever need one.”
“Oh! Um, thank you. Are we allowed to bring mini fridges? I’m really into overnight oats right now, so if I could just leave that stuff in there…”
“We are! It can’t be one of those huge ones though, it’s gotta be one of those ones that looks like a cube.” Harry makes a fake outlines of a box with his fingers. The waitress comes over and takes the orders for the nachos. “Excuse me, love, could I also get a separate order of chicken fingers and fries to go?”
The waitress nods and Harry smiles at her. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Got someone at home who requested it.” He says before turning his attention to the other conversations at the table.
You wondered whom might me home waiting for him. A wife, a girlfriend…boyfriend? Harry wore a lot of rings, and his nails were painted, but a lot of men were doing that these days so you didn’t want to make any assumptions.
“So, Y/N, where’s home for you?” Andre asks.
“Oh, I’m from Boston originally.”
“Wow! And you moved up here to the mountains. Do you miss the hustle and bustle yet?”
“Not yet, I sort of don’t mind the quiet, although, when I first moved I had trouble falling asleep at night. It was almost too quiet.” You laugh. “But I’ve gotten more used to it. I’m in a great little apartment building, nice neighborhood. I think there are some grad students that I’m neighbors with.”
“Do you going hiking at all?” Mateo asks. “There are some great trails around here.”
“I haven’t gone yet, but I’d certainly be willing to give it a go.”
“We usually all go together before the semester starts.” Lisa says. It surprised you at how close everyone seemed. All different people of different ages. “There’s this really easy mountain about twenty minutes from campus with a beautiful view of the lakes region.”
“Well, I’ll certainly give it a go. Just let me know when.” You smile.
Sandra was absolutely right, the nachos were incredible. Lots of layers of chips and cheese, fresh veggies and guacamole, not to mention the sour cream and salsa. Everyone squares up their checks and heads out. Harry grabs his to go order from the bar. The sun was just barely setting, god, you loved August.
“I parked in the same lot as you, mind if I walk back up with you?” Harry asks after you all say goodnight.
“Not at all.” You smile.
“So, how was the first day? Is your brain ready to explode?”
“Only a little. I think if I take in anymore new information today I’ll pop.” Harry chuckles at that.
“I remember my faculty orientation.” He smirks and shakes his head. “I think I wore a suit, if you can believe it.”
“I’m sure you clean up really well.” You say playfully and he rolls his eyes.
“Well, you’re right about that, but it was super embarrassing at the time. No one told me how casual it was.”
“A little initiation ritual perhaps.”
“Maybe.” He looks at her. “I like your little, um, what do you call those.”
“Oh! My buns?”
“Yeah! Didn’t know if you’d still call them that, or poofs, or something.”
“Poof works.” You chuckle. “I wasn’t sure how humid it was going to be so I just did it up like that. They’re nice for keeping pens or pencils in.”
“Brilliant.” He smiles and reaches his car. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your first day. Feel free to email me if you have any questions. I know being new the area and campus can be overwhelming.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” You nod and get into your own car. You take a deep breath as you drive away. “I can do this.” You tell yourself. You enjoyed how friendly everyone was, you could definitely see yourself fitting in with everyone.
//
Harry gets home soon after he leaves campus, only living about fifteen minutes away. He owned a quaint ranch-style home.
“Andy, I’m home, bud!” He yells out. “Got your dinner.” He walks into the living room and sees his son playing video games. “Please don’t tell me you played all day…”
“Hey, dad.” He pauses the game and takes the to go box from Harry. “No, I didn’t play all day.” He rolls his eyes. “I went to the skate park at with Brandon, and then we swam in his pool, remember?”
“Right, I’ll have to say thanks to his parents.” Harry sits down on the couch and sighs.
“Tired?” Andy asks with his mouth full.
“Yeah, it was just a day full of meetings, then we all had dinner. Being social is draining.” He laughs. “How’s the chicken, good?”
“Mhm.”
“Let me get you some napkins…water?”
“Yes, please.”
Harry nods to his son. Harry usually got to be with his son all summer, but this year Andy asked to stay for the school year. It was a rather large discussion that Harry had to have with him and Andy’s mother, who Harry wasn’t on bad terms with, but he certainly didn’t live the one on one chat.
“I just feel like he didn’t get this idea on his own.” She whispered to him in the kitchen.
“I swear I didn’t put the idea in his head. He just asked me out of the blue if he could be enrolled at the middle school. He’s going into fifth grade, maybe he wants a fresh start. He has good friends here, Paige.”
“He has good friends at home too…” She sighs. “I just…so what, now I only get to see him on weekends? I’m his mother, Harry.”
“And I’m his father.”
“You get him for the entire summer.”
“You know it’s not enough time with him. I miss him a lot during the school year.” He drums his fingers on the kitchen counter. “Do you think…I mean…your boyfriend moved in with you, right? Do you think he feels uncomfortable with the change?”
“I don’t know, when Noah and I spoke with him about it he said he was fine with it. He was used to him sleeping over anyways. He’s knowing him for two years now, it’s not that weird.”
“I didn’t say it was weird, I’m talking about comfort. Maybe he just doesn’t want to share his space. It’s not just Noah that moved in, he has a daughter too…”
“Andy and Rachel get along really well. She’s only a year younger than he is.” She sighs again. “I don’t want him thinking he’s being replaced, Harry. What if he doesn’t want to come back into my life once he’s with you all the time?”
“I don’t think that could happen, I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
“And you’d be able to handle him all year long?”
“Sure, I’d have to change when I’m offering my classes so I’m home at a reasonable time, but I can make it work.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I could always send him home to you if I can’t be around anyways, like how you do with me.”
“Right.” She looks into the living room where Andy had his headphones in, and then back to Harry. “That’s my little baby in there. How can I let him go?”
“You’re not letting him go, you’re letting him grow up a bit. Why don’t we tell him we’ll see how this year goes, and then we can talk more seriously about custody and all that?”
“Alright, yeah, that seems fair.”
“You only live thirty minutes away, I could always drop him off for dinner sometimes, or-“
“Yeah.” She nods. “Well, um, let’s go talk with him then.”
That conversation happened after the July 4th holiday. Andy went home every other weekend to his mother’s, and Harry always talked with him about how his time with her was. Andy would always say that had a great time. He really did just like his friends better where Harry lived, and he was getting older. Maybe he just wanted to live with his dad.
“Alright.” Harry hands him the napkins and water. “Shall we watch a movie and then get you ready for bed?”
“I’m not a baby.” He scoffs.
“You are though, you’ll always be my baby.”
“Dad.” Andy groans. “Don’t be gross.”
“Can’t help it, you’re too stinkin’ cute.”
“Please stop before I barf up my chicken.”
Harry laughs and switches the TV to Netflix. Andy looked a lot like Harry in that he had curly hair and green eyes. He had his mother’s button nose and freckles. Andy liked dressing in basketball shorts and t-shirts, but he also like using a scrunchie or bandana to keep his hair off his face the way Harry did. It was cute.
“Am I going to mum’s this weekend?”
“You are, my darling.” Harry sips on a beer while lounging on the couch during the movie. “That alright?”
“Course.” He shrugs. “I actually have a new skate trick to show Rachel.”
“Do you to go boarding together?”
“Sometimes. She’s better on her skates, though.” He munches on some popcorn. “I kinda like going there on Friday nights because her and Noah go to temple on Saturday mornings, so mum and I get up late and make breakfast together.”
“Good, I’m glad you get that quality time together. I hope you’re paying attention to the culture that Rachel and Noah are bringing into your life, though. She’ll probably have a Bat Mitzvah someday and you’ll have this big party to go to.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever…I mean…it’s sort of weird that you like Noah…”
“Is it?” Harry sits up. “I’ve got no problem with him. He’s a nice guy, takes care of your mum.”
“That’s just it, I have friends with divorced parents and they-“
“Well, mum and I aren’t divorced, Andy, you know that. We never got married.”
“Even still…”
“We wanted to do right by you can be good co-parents. I’d be a real brat if I was rude to him.”
“How come you and mum never got married?”
Harry nearly chokes on his drink. He clears his throat and pauses the movie. Andy never really asked questions like this. He never even saw Harry and Paige as a couple, he never knew them together.
“Um…well…we were really young when you were born. I was twenty when we found out about you, and I was twenty-one when you born, I was just barely finishing school when you came along. Your mum was a year ahead of me, so luckily she got her degree before you were born.”
“Were you together then?”
“Yeah.” Harry nods. “Mum and I dated for about two years in undergrad, and then…well…we found out about you, and we were nervous, but excited.”
“But you didn’t want to get married?”
“I asked her, but she said no.”
“Why?”
“She thought I only wanted to marry her because she was pregnant.” He sighs. “Things like that sort of get complicated when you’re older. I also had a lot going on for school, and she didn’t want me to put my career on hold, she already had a full time job and all that. We tried to make things work, but we both realized a relationship shouldn’t be made to work because of…a baby. We both love you very much, Andy, make no mistake about that, but mum and I make better friends than a couple, I can assure you.”
“Oh.”
“Do you wish we were together sometimes?”
“Sometimes.” He nods. “But only because I hate going back and forth.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “We live as close to each other as we can.”
“I know.” He furrows his brows. “I just don’t like when Noah acts like he’s my dad because he’s not, you are.”
“True, but you should still be respectful. Rachel lives there full time too, so-“
“I can’t stand that either, honestly.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know…ugh, she was on the phone with one of her friends and she referred to me as her brother. Not even step-brother, brother! I’m not her brother.” He huffs.
“Andy…come here.” His son gets up and sits next to him. Harry puts an arm around him and holds him close. “You’re going through a lot of change right now, huh?”
“I guess.” He looks up at Harry. “I think Noah’s gonna ask mum to marry her…which I guess is nice for her, but I’d rather just be with you.”
“You are with me.”
“Permanently, though. I’ve felt better just going over on the weekends, it’s plenty.”
“Mum and I said we’d see how this year at school goes, and then we could decide. I want you here, but I have to respect what she wants too.” He smiles down at him. “Poor you, having two parents who just love you so much.” He kisses his forehead.
“Blegh!” He wipes the spit from his forehead away. “What is wrong with you?” He gets up and goes back to his own seat.
“What? A father can’t love on his son anymore just because he’s in the double digits?”
“Exactly, press play.”
Harry laughs and shakes his head as he starts the movie back up.
//
Your semester was off to a great start. You got your office decorated nicely, and you were able to make it a cozy and homey space, which was good because you spent a lot of late nights there. Balancing teaching multiple sections of three different classes while also making time for research was proving to be a little difficult. Sometimes students were hanging out in the lounge while you were working, so you didn’t feel truly alone.
You were on an incredible team. You met bi-weekly with Lisa just for wellness check ins. She knew how overwhelming the first year could be, and she recommended chatting with Harry. He was the last one to go through all of it, so he would have the best tips. Harry was often out of the building by 3PM most days. He held virtual office hours from his home office. You weren’t entirely sure why he always needed to get home so early. Well, you weren’t sure until the answer slapped you in the face.
“And this is my new neighbor, Y/N.” You hear him say as he knocks on your door. “Got a second?”
“Um…sure.” You stand up and see a young boy with Harry.
“Y/N, this is my son, Andy. He had a half day from school today, so he’s hanging out until it’s time to go home.”
“Oh! Hi, Andy. It’s nice to meet you.” You had foolishly assumed the picture of Harry holding a baby on his desk was a nephew or something since he himself looked so young in the photo.
“Nice to meet you too.” He mumbles.
“What grade are you in?”
“Fifth.”
“Oh, so you just started middle school? How’s that going?”
“Okay, I guess.” He shrugs. “Dad, can I go get a snack at the grille?”
“Sure.” Harry fishes for his wallet and hands Andy a ten dollar bill. “Don’t pig out though, I want you to be hungry for dinner.”
“Okay.” He walks away from them and Harry shakes his head with a smile.
“He’s a human disposal right now.”
“I…didn’t know you had a son.” You say awkwardly.
“Yeah! Yikes, have I not mentioned him before now?” You shake your head no. “Guess that means we haven’t spent enough time together then.” You blush slightly and Harry clears his throat, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “He, um, just turned ten in May…sort of had him young.”
“I see.”
“This is his first time being with me during the school year. He wanted to give this school system a try, couldn’t say no to that.”
“Oh…um…so his mom…?” You didn’t want to pry too much. Harry wore a lot of rings so you weren’t sure if he was married or not.
“She lives about thirty minutes away, closer to the lakes. She’s a para at a law office, does well for herself. We were college sweethearts, but it didn’t work out.” He shrugs and you nod. “She’s got a serious boyfriend and he has a daughter a year younger than Andy. I think he felt like his personal space was closing in on him, so he asked to live with me. I usually just get him for the summer when I’m not teaching, it’s been great having him around more.”
“He has your eyes.” You wanted smack your forehead for making such a weird comment.
“He does! One of the first things I noticed about him when they stopped being that weird, dark color babies have when they’re first born.” You simply nod your head. “Well, I’ve taken up a lot of your time…um…let’s plan a lunch or something sometime soon. I’d love to know how your classes are going. I know it can’t be easy teaching the intro courses.”
“I’m doing well with it, actually. I taught a lot of the first-year courses at my previous institution. I’ve just been more bogged down with my research than anything else.”
“I’d like to hear more about that too, if that’s alright. Didn’t get to hear about like everyone else since I was gone during your interviews.”
“Sure, we could do lunch sometime then.” Harry smiles at that.
“Great. You know, we get together to do a monthly game night with the faculty from the English department. It’s in a couple of weeks, I hope you’ll come. A lot of their classes double count within our major, so it would be good for you to meet them.”
“Yeah, just let me know when it is. I enjoyed the hike a couple weeks ago.”
“I was pissed I missed that.” Harry groans. “I had to take Andy-“
“Dad.” Andy comes back, handing Harry his change. He was biting into a BLT.
“Thank you, let’s go into my office, yeah? You’ve got some homework that needs to get done.”
“Fine.” He goes into Harry’s office with a huff.
“Anyways, I’ll let you know when the game night is.”
“Okay, thanks.” You smile at each other and go back to sit down in your office.
He had a kid, a ten-year-old…holy shit. You couldn’t imagine going through your master’s and doctoral program while also raising a child. Good for him, you think.  Andy was a pretty cute kid, a mop of curls, just like his dad.
//
You gave yourself Saturdays off. Saturdays were for sleeping in, doing a quick pilates workout, grocery shopping, laundry and whatever other chores you may have. Saturdays were for curling up on the sofa with a cup of tea and good movie. Saturday nights were for you and Janette, who you have become pretty close with, to go have drinks.
“You need to find someone to bring home with you tonight.” Janette says, as you both begin your second drinks of the evening.
“Oh stop.” You laugh. “I don’t think I have the energy to pretend to be into someone enough to fuck them.” She rolls her eyes at you. “So…what’s this I hear about a game night with the English department?”
“Oh! It’s so much fun. Once a month someone different hosts it. Sometimes we play board games, sometimes it’s card games, one time we even played Heads Up, that was a hoot.” She giggles. “You should definitely come, Lisa’s hosting the next one. Her house is huge and has a beautiful view of the lakes and mountains.”
“I think I might, yeah.”
“Who told you about it? I think Lucas was planning to add you to the email about it.”
“Oh, Harry mentioned it the other day. He said it would be good for me to get to know the other faculty.”
“He’s certainly right about that.”
“I met his son…”
“Andy was in the office! Damn, I try to keep candy in my office for him. He’s so sweet. He was just a little guy when Harry started, can’t believe he’s in middle school.”
“Yeah, he was really polite. Sort of closed off at the same time.”
“Harry seems to think he’s become more self-aware. It’s a big deal for him to want to live with Harry year round.” She sips her drink. “Shouldn’t gossip too much about it though.”
“Right.” You sip your own drink.
“The students seem to like you so far, we’ve all heard good things from our advisees.”
“Really?! That means a lot.”
“Your teaching must speak for itself.”
“Students are always in the downstairs lounge, it’s nice to chat with them sometimes. They always seem to be visiting Harry. Andre and Sandra are down with us too, and they don’t have as many frequent flyers.”
“I know you’re new and all, but I didn’t think you were naïve.” She chuckles.
“What do you mean?”
“Harry perfectly fits the hot teacher trope, Y/N. He’s slightly mysterious with his tattoos and his nail polish, but still totally approachable. He’s dorky, but funny. He’s got a little muscle on him, but he’s not terribly intimidating, plus he’s fucking brilliant. You should sit in on his Literature and Film class.”
“One might think you have a crush on him from the way you speak about him.” You tease her.
“One would have to be straight, my dear.” She winks at you, and you laugh a little too loud. “However, I know an attractive man when I see one. Girls swoon over him all the time. It was really bad when he first started because he was a little closer in age with students, things have calmed down considerably though.”
“He dresses nicely too, I like his style.”
“It’s a little out there, but it works for him.”
“Sometimes I can smell the nail polish remover from my office.” You giggle. “He really hates when they’re chipped, huh?”
“God, you have no idea. Sometimes in the faculty meetings I’ll catch him chipping away at, next time I see him they’re freshly painted again.”
You take an uber home after having four drinks with your friend. You gossiped about some other people, Harry didn’t remain the topic of conversation for long. You get home and strip yourself of your clothes, and wash up before getting into your blanket burrito.
//
Sundays were for getting a head start on the week. Sometimes you worked from your office at home, but today you forgot something at your office at work, so you decide to just grab all your things and work from your office for the day. You were making some progress on your research and you wanted to keep riding the wave you were on.
You had a tie-dye t-shirt on under your coat that had a picture of Goofy on it, and a pair of jeans on. You didn’t need to be super dressed up for some weekend work. No one was usually in the building anyways. You get some up and put some music on while you do some reading and highlighting.
“Hey! Look who it is.”
“Jesus!” You flinch and look up. “Scared the shit out of me, Harry.”
“Sorry about that.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a tad jumpy.”
“Hard not to be when you’re always coming out of nowhere.” You turn your music down and stand up to walk over to him, crossing your arms over your stupid shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, Andy’s with his mum this weekend, and I needed a change of scenery from the home office, so I thought I’d come here.”
“Oh.”
He looks you up and down and smiles.
“Is Goofy your favorite?”
“Huh?”
“Your shirt.” He points to it. “Personally, I’m partial to Mickey Mouse, but Goofy’s fun.”
“This is a really old shirt, I did laundry yesterday so this is what I was left with.”
“Ah…and I suppose you weren’t expecting to bump into your colleague.”
“Correct.”
“Well, I think it’s proper cute, so no worries, I won’t make fun.” He winks and goes into his own office.
You feel your cheek and it’s considerably warmer than it was from before he got there. You shake your head and return to your seat, opting to put your headphones in to not disturb him. Just as you’re getting going in the zone again, he comes into your office and plops down on one of the reupholstered chairs you had on the other side of your desk.
“Yes?” You ask, taking your headphones out.
“I want you to come observe my wellness class this week.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you could use some time to distress. You don’t teach any 8AM’s, right?”
“No…um…what makes you think I need to distress?”
“You just look like you’re carrying a lot of tension. It’s a great class. We chat, we meditate. Sometimes students fall asleep, but I’ve told them it’s okay. If their bodies are telling them they need sleep, then they should sleep. We do a bit of yoga as well. Plus, I just think it would be good for you to observe me.”
“I was told your literature class would be fun to observe, couldn’t I do that instead?”
“And let you get out of a bit of meditation?” He scoffs. “I don’t think so, sister.” You laugh at that.
“Alright, which day should I come?”
“It’s my Tuesday/Thursday course. You can pick which morning you’d prefer.”
“Anything else?”
“Tell me about your research.”
“Are you just using me to procrastinate?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Hey, what happens between me and the stack of papers I need to grade is none of your business.” You laugh at him again. Harry was funny, no doubt about that. “Come on, just a few minutes, tell me what you’re working on.”
“I am researching anonymity online, the pros and cons, how social media is mixed into it, stuff like that. People carry themselves different on the various social media platforms, trying to show specific versions of themselves, but when you’re able to remain anonymous, you somehow are truly able to be yourself without fear of judgement.”
“So, what are the cons then?”
“Oh, there are tons. There’s the fear of someone finding this anonymous version of yourself and being exposed. Then there are the people that forget there’s someone else behind the screen and send nasty messages to other anonymously.”
“That’s my biggest fear with Andy. He’s been begging me for a smart phone, but I just don’t feel comfortable with that yet.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I told him when he was thirteen we could talk about it.”
“It’s funny, I didn’t get my first phone until I was fifteen, and it was one of those ones that slid open and had a keyboard. Literally had to use the family desktop if I wanted to go on Facebook.”
“Do people even use Facebook anymore? Feel like it’s just forty-year-old wine moms and Home Depot dads.” Harry snorts.
“No one uses it anymore because it’s not fun. It may as well be LinkedIn.” You scoff.
“Well, I’ll certainly be looking forward to reading what you whip up when the time comes.” He smiles.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll let you get back to it…um, feel like grabbing a bite later?”
“If you don’t disturb me for the next two hours I’ll consider getting lunch with you.”
“Oh, I love a challenge.” He grins and stands up, leaving your office.
You smile and shake your head. Perhaps your neighbor was becoming a pretty good friend.
//
“You’re coming to Lisa’s tonight, right?” Harry asks you as he slings his bag over his shoulder on Friday afternoon.
“I believe so, six, right?”
“Yup! Do you need directions?”
“I have this thing called a smart phone, and get this…it has an app where if I put in an address, it shows me the route!”
“I really hate it when you’re sarcastic with me.” He rolls his eyes. “Get it enough from my son, you know?”
“Will he be joining the fun as well?”
“Nope, he’s with his mum this weekend. I gotta go get him from school and get him all packed up for her.”
“Does she always pick him up?”
“She picks him up on Fridays, and I pick him up on Sundays.” He shrugs. “It just works for us.”
“Makes sense.”
“Right, well, I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” You smile and wave him off.
After knuckling at your eyes, you head home around 4PM. You wanted to shower and freshen up before heading to Lisa’s. It was a beautiful, chilly Fall evening, so you opt for a light sweater and black jeans, and a pair of boots. You run your fingers through your hair, reapply some makeup, and grab the bottle of white you had chilling in your fridge. You plug the address into your phone, and get going.
It was about a twenty-five minute drive. Lisa lived in a neighborhood with a lot of beautiful homes. Her driveway was long and winding, and on top of a hill.
“This must be a bitch in the winter.” You say to yourself. Maybe that was why she was hosting the September game night. There were a couple of other cars there, so you didn’t feel totally awkward. You walk up to the door and ring the bell.
“Y/N!” Lisa exclaims and hugs you. “Come on in, so glad you could make it.”
“Thank you for having me. I brought some wine.” You hand the bottle to her as you step inside.
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
“Shoes on or off?”
“On is perfectly fine, it’s all hardwood.” Lisa leads you inside. “I’ll get this open.”
You wait for her to pour you a glass, and then she leads you into the living room. Sandra and Mateo were already there. You wave hello and grab a seat.
“Y/N, this is Dan, the English department chair, Alice, Joe, and Fred.”
“Hi, it’s nice to formally meet you all.” You stand up and shake a few hands.
Everyone mingles and eats the snacks Lisa puts out. Her husband was quite the co-host. Janette shows up next, and you end up sitting with her. Harry’s the last to arrive. Lisa gets him a glass of red right away. He looked handsome. A tan cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of light wash jeans.
“Sorry I’m late everyone, Paige was over an hour late picking Andy up. There was an accident on the highway and she got stuck behind it, it was a whole thing.”
Paige, it was the first time Y/N heard Harry actually say the name of Andy’s mother.
“No worries, H.” Andre says. “Relax, we haven’t even decided on the game yet.”
“Thank god.” Harry plops down next to you on the couch. “Janette, did Y/N tell you she observed my wellness class yesterday?”
“She did, she told me she fell asleep the second you turned the lights off.” She snickers.
“Please, keep talking about me like I’m not even here.” You roll your eyes. Harry and Janette both lean over you so they can pretend to speak closer. “Okay, okay.” You push them both away. “That’s enough, thank you.”
“Alright, everyone, I was thinking we could play charades, yeah?” Lisa announces. “It’ll keep us limber.”
“English vs. CM?” Dan asks.
“You know it.” Lisa grins.
You were pretty good at charades so you weren’t worried. The couple of glasses of wine certainly helped boost your confidence. It was fun to let a little loose with your colleagues. It was some much needed bonding. Harry was quite competitive, which surprised you because he was usually so chill about everything. It was down to the final points, Harry needed to guess the name of your film correctly.
You put up two fingers.
“Second word.” You nod and he licks his lips in concentration You pretend to open a book and write it in it. “Uhhh, book…” He furrows his brows. You look up like as if you’re reading something, and then you pretend to write the book some more. “Notes…notebook, oh! The Notebook!” You tap your finger on your nose and your team cheers. “Ha!” Harry stands up and hugs you. He lets you go and looks back at everyone. “That was exhilarating. Better luck next time.” He says to the English team.
“Wasn’t exactly a difficult film to guess.” Alice says playfully.
“I had zero control over the slip of paper I chose out of that hat.” You grin.
You all help clean up before heading out. You slip your coat on and head outside after saying your goodbyes.
“Y/N?” You hear Harry from behind you. “You’re good to drive, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t get behind the wheel if I wasn’t.”
“Alright.” He smiles. “Just wanted to be sure.” He walks with you outside.
“It would be pretty bad if I got so fucked up I couldn’t drive home from our department chair’s house.”
“Lisa would actually get a pretty good kick out of it.” He smirks. You get to your car and press the button to unlock it. “Well…I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Same to you, any big plans while Andy’s gone?”
“Not really, I try to save the fun stuff for while he’s with me.”
“Aw, no hot dates.” You wink at him. Okay, maybe some of the wine was still in your system. He blinks at you for a moment and then he bursts out laughing.
“Right, the ladies are really fighting to knock my door down.” He wipes a tear from under his eye. “Can’t remember the last time I went on a proper date to be honest with you. Not exactly a turn on when you bring someone home and they see kid’s toys hanging around.”
“Oh come on, you’ve totally got the hot single dad thing working for you.” You nudge his shoulder. “Janette I usually go out on Saturday nights for drinks, you should come out tomorrow.”
“Um…which, uh, which bar do you go to?”
“Firefly, little more adult. We don’t really see the college kids there.”
“Sure, yeah, I know that place well. Um, what time?”
“Nine?”
“I’ll be there.” He smiles.
“Great! Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, Y/N.”
He watches as you get into your car and drive away. It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you realize that you essentially asked him out, and that you sort of flirted with him. You text Janette immediately and let her know he may show up.
Jan: Yay! Harry’s so much fun to go drinking with, this’ll be great!
Will it? You think to yourself. It was one thing to have a couple of glasses of wine with colleagues, but you usually got pretty drunk with Janette, always taking an uber to and from the bar. You were a nervous wreck all day, and you weren’t sure why. You were hoping all of your Saturday chores would distract you, but they weren’t.
As you get ready, you decide on a blue dress that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage, pairing it with patterned nylons, and boots. Your hair is down and wavy, and your makeup looks cute, for now. You put on your leather jacket and head out. Well, not before doing a quick shot at home. Your leg bounces the entire time in the uber. Janette is already there at your usual table. She waves you over and you sit down.
“I texted Harry earlier.” She says to you. “Just so he really knew he was invited.”
“I don’t have his number, otherwise I would have. Sorry, I feel like I should have asked first. This is sort of like our girl’s night.”
“Are you kidding?! Like I said earlier, Harry is super fun to drink with.”
After you both guzzle down your first drink, Harry arrives. He’s got a black button up on with the first few buttons undone, exposing the birds on his collar bones. He smiles when he sees the both of you.
“H!” Janette says, getting up to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello, love.” He gives her a squeeze and a returned kiss. He looks at you and you give him a shy smile before giving him a side hug. “Thanks again for the invite, haven’t been to this place in a while.” He slides into the stool.
“Oh, of course!” Janette says. “I was excited when Y/N said you were coming.”
“Apparently I need to do more fun things when Andy’s with his mum.” He nudges you.
“What do you usually do when he’s gone?” You ask him.
“I usually clean up the house, stalk up on food, wash his sheets…dad stuff.” He shrugs with a laugh. The waitress comes over and smiles.
“Can I get you started with anything?”
“Rum and coke would be great, and I’ll start a tab.” He hands her his credit card and she nods.
“Nother round for you two?”
“Please!” Janette says.
“Yes.” You say with a smile.
The waitress nods and smiles. She walks away and looks back at Harry, blushing.
“Oh boy.” Janette grins. “I think you may get lucky tonight, H.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Our waitress did a double take.”
“She’s probably, like, ten years younger than I am or something. Not my style.”
“Fair enough.” She shrugs.
“What about you? Any ladies you’re trying to take home?”
“Well, if I weren’t in a long distance relationship, sure.”
“You and Sadie are still together?” He asks almost in shock.
“Of course we are! You would have known if we broke up.”
“Doesn’t it get difficult?” He frowns.
“I really don’t mind. When we’re able to be together it’s nice, but I like having my own space.” Janette turns to you. “Sadie is a photographer, traveling for National Geographic.”
“That’s incredible!”
The waitress brings all of the dinks over and you clink your glasses.
“Alright, what’s the gossip, ladies? Who are we shitting on?”
“Hmm.” Jaette taps her chin. “Perhaps Dan? He’s obviously still in love with Lisa.”
“Still?” Your jaw drops.
“Back in the day,” Harry starts, “he and Lisa were quite the item. She met Arnold at a conference. He’s a chef.”
“Ah, that’s why the food is so good.”
“Mhm, he’s retired now, but at the time she had to make this big choice between the two of them, and she chose Arnold. Built an entire life with him. Dogs, kids, big house, you name it.” Harry explains.
“And Dan’s been married and divorced twice. Lisa’s the one that got away.” Janette sighs. “Course, Lisa’s incredibly oblivious, or she pretends to be. You’d think they were simply best friends.”
“I wonder what made her choose Arnold over Dan.” You say.
“Good dick.” Janette says. “Simple as that.”
“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes.
“You come on! Are you going to tell me you’d give up good dick?”
“So you’re telling me she was seeing both of them at the same time, and she chose Arnold because he hit it better?”
“That’s what I’m inferring, yes.” She sips her drink. “Getting to come every time you fuck is worth it, don’t you think?”
Harry nearly chokes on his drink from laughing.
“I forgot how nasty you can be, I love it.” He says and looks at you. “So, Y/N, what’s your answer? Is an orgasm reason enough to choose one guy over another?”
“Well, considering that I dated some real fuck when I was in college just so I could get some good dick, I’d have to say yes.” You say, enjoying the look on both of their faces. “I mean, it’s hard to remember how much you can’t stand someone when they’re railing you to completion.”
“Very true.” Janette agrees. “Also, Arnold is a really sweet man, sort of the whole package for her. I don’t think Lisa liked be challenged, and Dan, I heard, would challenge her on everything.”
“I’m usually up for a debate, but I get that. I don’t need to be in control of everything, but agreeable people are better.” You say.
“I wouldn’t say it’s because he’s agreeable.” Harry says, finishing his drink, and gesturing towards the waitress for another. “Arnold is smitten, not just in love, big difference.”
“How so?” You ask.
“When you’re…oh, thank you.” He smiles at the waitress brings him a new drink. “When you’re smitten, you walk around with rose colored glasses, to some that can be a bad thing, but I think when you’re that in love, you should really adore the person you’re with too. Arnold adores Lisa, Dan doesn’t. You can tell by the way they both look at her.”
It was nice discussing things like this with people who also observed people the way you did. It makes you wonder, though, what they may have picked up on about you.
After a few more drinks, you knew you needed to stop when your vision began to get hazy. Harry only had his two drinks since he drove himself. He drank some water as the night went on.
“H, Y/N lives not too far from you, help her save a couple bucks and drive her home, would you?”
“Jan…” You scold her.
“She’s right, I could give you a lift, if you want?”
“Um…well…sure.”
You both say goodnight to Janette, and Harry helps you into his car. He keeps the music low as he pulls out of the bar.
“So, where am I taking you?”
“To The Ledges, do you know where that is?”
“Sure do.” He chuckles. “Lived there myself when I first moved to the area.”
“Really?! It’s a great size place. I love it.”
“Got any pets or anything?”
“Nope, just me, myself, and I.” You grin.
“And you prefer it that way?”
“Well, after living at home my whole life, and then having various roommates over the years, I’d say that I’m quite enjoying living alone.”
“Good for you. I’m glad you’re liking it here so much. The person you replaced was such a twat.” You burst into laughter. “I’m serious! He never came to any of the outings. It was like he didn’t even care that we were trying to get him to engage. The second he got his PhD he left. Good riddance.” Harry scoffs.
“I really like it. It’s a lot different than being at a college in the city. I wasn’t sure how I’d do working in a college town, but I’m really enjoying it. I feel safe, you know? I didn’t always feel safe in the city.”
“I’m sorry, that had to have been difficult.”
“On the late nights it was. I usually had UPD walk me to my car. I don’t really have to do that here. I feel like I gained a lot of independence back.”
Harry pulls up to the apartment building, and parks. He turns the ignition off and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to walk you to the door…”
“Oh…you don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
“Really, it’s okay. Um, thank you for the ride, it was really nice of you.”
“Thanks for the invite, I had fun.” He smiles.
“Me too.” You smile back and get out of the car.
You hear the car turn back on, and you know he waits to drive off until you’re inside.
//
“Paige, I get him for Christmas, why are you trying to change things?”
“You usually get him for Christmas because you don’t usually get him for the school year.” She crosses her arms as she stands outside in the frigid early December air.
“But you just got him for Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t celebrate Thanksgiving!”
“I observe!” He takes a deep breath. “His plane ticket is already paid for, he’s coming with me to London like always, and he will be back to you for New Year’s, like always.” He steps closer to her. “He looks forward to seeing my mum and Gem every winter, please don’t take that away from him.”
“It’s just…we’re hosting a Hanukkah party, and Noah really wanted him to be a part of it…”
“Shit.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “There’s Jewish holidays all the time, couldn’t Andy be a part of the next celebration?”
“Dad! Come on, the Pats game is starting!”
“One second, just saying bye to mum!” He yells to Andy, and looks back at Paige, eyes pleading.
“Alright…he can still go with you.”
“Thank you.” Harry breathes. “His cousins would miss him terribly.”
“I know, I’d feel terrible doing that to him. I’m just trying to balance all of this. I wanna be a good partner to Noah, and somewhat of a mother figure to Rachel, but I don’t want Andy to feel like I’m favoring them over him. He comes first, he always will.”
“I’m sure he knows that.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Have a latke for me, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiles and gives his hand a squeeze before getting back into her car.
Harry heads inside and sits on the couch while Andy sits in his usual spot on the love seat, entranced by the football game.
“What was that all about? I heard shouting.”
“Could barely hear each other over the wind outside. Nothing to worry about. We were just confirming plans for your holiday break.”
“I’m still going to London, right?”
“Of course! No question about it.”
Andy smiles at Harry before returning his attention to the TV. Harry was usually very honest with Andy, but he didn’t need to worry him with any of the drama.
//
“You survived your first semester, congrats!” Janette says, popping a bottle of champagne as she walks into your office.
“Not over yet, I have finals to grade.”
“Whatever, the kids are gone, that’s something to celebrate.” She nods towards the plastic cups you keep in your office, and you grab two. “Any plans for the holidays? Going home at all?”
“Oh sure. Doing the Hanukkah thing with my folks, and then doing New Year’s in Boston with some friends.”
“Fun!”
“Wait.” Harry says, overhearing, grabbing the bottle for a swig. “You’re Jewish?”
“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow at him and take a sip from your cup.
“Brilliant. Paige’s boyfriend is Jewish, and I think it’s confusing for Andy. He doesn’t much like asking th guy questions, maybe he could talk to you sometime.”
“Sure.” You shrug. “Any plans for the holidays?”
“Yeah, Andy comes home to London for Christmas, and then I send him back for New Year’s with his mum.”
“You send him on the plane alone?”
“I haven’t always, but they let me walk him right to the gate, and he flies first class, so it’s very safe. They let his mum wait at the other gate too. I like to stay home for a few weeks if I can. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mama’s boy.” He takes another swig of the bottle. “I am not looking forward to grading these papers. I really should just have each class do a presentation, can grade those right on the spot.”
“Tell me about it.” Janette groans. “My Advanced Comp class is going to be the death of me.”
“Well, clearly this champagne is going to keep us all awake enough to get through it.”
The three of you stand there laughing. You were looking forward to the long winter break. It would give you plenty of time to work on your research, and you wouldn’t be disturbed by any students popping in and out of your office, as much as you enjoyed the chats.
//
It was the beginning of January, there you were, working away in your office. You had a long flowy dress on, for some reason, and your door bursts open.
“Y/N! I’ve traveled across the pond for you!”
“Harry! You’re back.”
“That’s right, darling, I’m back.” He pushes everything off your desk, walks around to your and pulls you close to him. He crashes his mouth to yours.
“Oh, Harry.” You moan.
“Oh, Y/N.” He moans back before laying you on your desk. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He rips your dress of and kneels in front of you, diving his head between your legs.
You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Your eyes snap open and you grimace. Your legs feel sweaty, so you kick your blankets off.
“What the fuck?” You say to yourself as you sit up. Harry was attractive, but you never once fantasized about him. You reach between your legs and gasp. “Did I just fucking have a wet dream?!” You lick at your sticky fingers and shake your head in disbelief. “Shower, go shower Y/N.” You were talking to yourself, yes, but it was needed to help you calm down.
You were incredibly embarrassed. Harry was your friend, not someone you wanted to fuck, and certainly not on your desk in your office at work. Most people would be turned off, but doing it in a professional place was a big turn off for you. The idea of getting caught was also not a turn on for you. If you were ever caught you could be fired, and it just wasn’t worth it. Neither was dating a colleague. It wasn’t against the rules or anything, nor was it frowned upon, but dating in the workplace could lead to a lot of problems. You had a PhD on the line. Maybe it was time to just suck it up and go for a one night stand.
//
You had forgotten all about your dream by the time the January faculty meeting hit. That is, until Harry was the last to walk in. Your face flushes immediately. His hair was a little longer, and he had a bit of scruff that he normally wouldn’t have. He smiles and says hello to a couple of people, and then sits down right next to you.
“Hi.” He whispers with a smile.
“Hello.” You swallow and don’t look at him.
“How was your-“
“Can we get started?” Lisa addresses the group. “Much to go over, we need to start talking about the fall schedule.”
You were grateful for the distraction of the discussion, but you felt Harry’s eyes burn into you every few moments. He had to have known you were acting weird, you wouldn’t fucking look at him. Even if you thought to try, you just couldn’t. Two hours later, and the meeting finally ends. You gather your things quickly and head out, and down to your office. Just as you’re able to take a deep breath, you look up and see Harry standing in your doorway, hands in his pockets, squinting at you.
“Are we good?” He asks.
“Um.” You focus on the space behind him. “Yes, why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because you refuse to look at me. Even now, you’re not really looking at me.” He shifts his weight so he’s stand up normally. “Are you mad because I didn’t reach out over break?”
“What? No! I could care less about that, it wasn’t like I reached out to you.”
“So…what is it then? You make eye contact all the time, it’s not like you to not.”
“I…” You suck both of your lips into your mouth. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”
“If it’s stupid then just tell me.” He comes in and sits down on your loveseat.
“Harry, please.” You shake your head and sit down in your desk chair.
“Come on, Y/N. Clearly something’s bothering you.”
“Ugh.” You groan and get up to close your door. You sit on the edge of your desk. “I…had a rather odd dream a week or so ago…”
“Okay?”
“And you were in it.” You whisper.
“What was I doing in your dream?” He whispers back.
“That’s just it, I don’t know.” You rest your chin in your palm as you cross your arms over your chest.
“Well I must have done something to make you not even look at me. Did I hurt you, do something scary?”
“No…I suppose I wouldn’t call it scary, but I was certainly disturbed when I woke up.”
“What then?” A smirk grows on his face. “Don’t tell me you had a sex dream or something.” When your face stays the way it is his smile fades. “You had a sex dream about me?” You nod yes. “Where were we?”
“Here.”
“In your office?!”
“Shh!” You swat your hands in his direction. “Do you want the building to hear?”
“You had a dream that we fucked in your office?”
“Well, it wasn’t fucking per say…you sort of…I don’t know…it doesn’t matter.”
“No tell me, let’s talk this through.”
“You wiped everything off my desk, ripped my clothes off, sat me on top, and then…” You wince slightly. “You sort of…got your head between my legs, and then I woke up.” You say the rest of it quickly. “And I was utterly concerned when I woke up because I swear I don’t see you that way, Harry. You’re my friend, just my friend. I forgot all about it, and then I saw you and got all embarrassed again.”
He stands up from his seat and gives you a shy smile.
“It was just a dream, you don’t need to be embarrassed. We’re adults, yeah? Let’s act like it.”
“I just don’t want you thinking I’m some…sex maniac or something.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay…I’m sorry if I worried you during the meeting. It really is good to see you, I’m glad you’re back. We could have lunch soon, I’d love to hear about London.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He smiles, but you can tell it’s fake.
He heads out and goes into his own office, closing the door behind him. For whatever reason, your words hurt him. Just my friend rang through his mind. It wasn’t as though it were a lie, you were just friends, but you made it clear you didn’t want him to be the one between your legs in a dream. At first he was flattered, but now…well, now he just felt sad. Was he not good enough to be the one to get you off? Even if in a dream? He hears a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
You open it slowly.
“I hurt your feelings…”
“A little.” He admits. “Not sure why, though.”
“I just didn’t want you to think I was objectifying you.”
“It was a dream, Y/N, you have zero control over it.”
“But I must have been thinking of you subconsciously, right? Isn’t that how that works?”
“Okay, so maybe you were thinking of me and maybe that got mixed in with…whatever else.”
“I just don’t want you thinking I want to fuck you, that’s all.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He mumbles.
“You want me to want to fuck you?!”
“Now who’d being loud?!”
“Sorry…”
“It’s just, well, how would you feel if I told you I didn’t want to fuck you, you probably wouldn’t feel too great about yourself.”
“It’s not that you’re not attractive, Harry-“
“This is making it worse.” He runs his hands over his face and looks at you. “It was just a dream, nothing to worry about, okay?”
“Things won’t be weird between us?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did in that meeting, then we wouldn’t have needed to talk about it.”
“Did you tell Janette?”
“I resent that, just because I’m close with her doesn’t mean she knows every bit of my business.”
“I just didn’t know if I should be expecting some teasing from her.”
“No, none, and you better not tease me either.”
“I won’t.” He smiles. “London was good by the way…”
“Good, I’m glad.” You smile at him. “Talk later?”
“Yeah.”
//
“Not that I’m not happy to be out with the two of you, but why are the three of us out to dinner?” Andy asks.
“Mum and I thought it would be nice to see what you wanted to do for your February vacation. Usually you come see me and we go skiing, but mum knows how to ski too-“
“You’re canceling our trip?!”
“No! We were just thinking mum could take you this year.”
“But it’s your cabin.”
“And I don’t mind sharing.”
“Andy…I thought it would be nice for the four of us to go together. Noah knows how to snowboard, and Rachel wants to take a skiing lesson.”
“Great, so now this going to be a huge family trip? I don’t wanna do that, Mum.” Andy groans.
“Andy.” Harry sighs. “I think Mum and I have been very accommodating to you this year. Could you please just try to help us out a little? Do you know how many kids would kill to have their parents take them on a ski trip for their breaks?”
“I’m not trying to be ungrateful, I’m sorry.” He looks down at his plate and then back up to Harry. “Can’t you still come? The house is big enough.”
“It’s not a bad idea, Har.” Paige says to him and his eyes widen.
“Would Noah and Rachel feel comfortable with that? I wouldn’t want to overstep…”
“I’ll talk to them, I can’t see either of them feeling weird about it. She refers to you as Uncle Harry as it is, and it’s your cabin, I don’t think Noah would care.”
“Would you be alright with it?”
“Sure.” She shrugs. “There’s that spare room on the other end of the house, so you could have your own space and the kids could stay in the bunk room.”
“Wait, so this is happening?” Andy perks up. “You’d really come, Dad?”
“Yeah, if it’s not weird for anyone, I’m in.”
Andy gets up from the table and moves to hug both Harry and Paige, both of them looking at each other surprised. They give each other mental high fives for being able to figure things out.
“I’m really excited now.” Andy says as he sits back down.
“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way…” Paige grins and looks back at one of the waitresses, giving her a nod. Happy birthday starts being sung throughout the restaurant.
“Oh my god.” Harry closes his eyes and groans. “This dinner wasn’t about me…”
“Nonsense.” She chuckles. “How often do we all get to celebrate together?”
A small cake with candles is brought over in front of Harry. The singing continues and he feels thoroughly embarrassed.
“Wanna help me blow ‘em out?” He asks Andy.
“Yeah!” He leans over and blows out the candles and the restaurant claps.
Harry looks at Paige and shakes his head. She laughs and thanks the waitresses.
“Andy, go get in Dad’s lap, I’ll take your picture together. I’ve got your gift for him in the car too, I’ll go get it.” Andy crawls into Harry’s lap, and Paige uses Harry’s phone to snap the photo. She beams when she looks at it. “You should get this one printed, it’s adorable.” She gets up and leaves to go get the gifts.
“Did you know about all this?” He says to Andy giving him a squeeze before letting him go.
“She just told me we were meeting you for dinner instead of going straight to your place.” He shrugs.
Paige returns shortly with a few cards and bags.
“Alright, this is from Rachel and Noah.”
“They didn’t have to get me anything…”
“They insisted!”
Harry takes the card out and smiles. Rachel had clearly drawn him a picture, it was cute. His smile grows wider when he takes a nail kit out of the small bag.
“I was due for one of these, I’ll have to text Noah a thank you.” Harry opens the next bag and sees a card from Andy that he also drew. In the bag was a new set of pocket squares for his suits, that he desperately needed, some bandanas, scrunchies, and a gift card to his favorite clothing store. “Went all out son, thank you.”
“Thought your…what was the word you used, Mum?”
“Wardrobe.” She chuckles.
“Yeah! Thought your wardrobe could use an update.”
“Should I be offended?” He says, raising an eyebrow.
“I think you should be happy your son has your keen eye for fashion.” She slides another card over. “That one’s from me.”
“You’ve done enough.” He says before leaning over to kiss the top of Andy’s head.
“Just open it.”
Harry rolls his eyes and opens the card. He starts laughing. There was some joke about being close co-parents, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants.
“Thank you.”
“More than welcome.”
Andy hugs Paige goodbye in the parking lot before hopping in the backseat of Harry’s car.
“Were you surprised, Dad?”
“Very! Thank you again for the gifts, it was very thoughtful of you.”
“I’m more excited about going skiing now.”
“Sorry if we scared you. I just wanna make sure Mum gets to see you.”
“I know.” He sighs. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“How come Mum has Noah, but you don’t have anyone?”
“I have you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I just…I don’t know, I don’t have much time for dating.”
“What do you do on the weekends when I’m not with you?”
“Sometimes I see friends, or I catch up on some grading, I clean up too. You’re gonna start doing more chores, that would be the ultimate birthday gift.”
“It’s okay if you wanna date, you know…”
“I don’t exactly need your permission.” He chuckles.
“I know…but I want you to know I’m okay with it.”
“Well, I appreciate that, thanks.”
//
When Harry walks into his office Monday morning he’s surprised to see a vase full of flowers. There’s a small card with it:
Happy Birthday, H!
-        Y/N
Harry smiles to himself and smells the flowers, he couldn’t believe you remembered. He only mentioned it once when his birthday was. Thirty-two was off to a great start. He hangs his jacket up and gets his computer set up. His first class wasn’t until 9AM, so he had some time to prep and wake up a bit more before heading to the lecture hall. He sees you walk by on your way to your office.
“Oh! You’re here!” You had two coffees in your hands. “My gift wasn’t complete yet.” You walk in and hand him his coffee. “Black coffee.” You smile.
“Thank you, the flowers are lovely.”
“Not that I thought you needed more plants in here.” You joke. Harry had a fuck ton of plants in his office windowsill.
“Well excuse me for enjoying nature.” He scoffs, and takes a sip of his coffee. You sit down on the couch in his office.
“Did you have a good weekend?”
“I did, Paige and I took Andy out to dinner to talk about his February break, and it turned into a little surprise birthday thing, it was nice. Can’t remember the last time we did something like that as a family. I mean, we have shared birthday parties for him and stuff, but I think he enjoys when it’s just the three of us.”
“If you don’t mind me asking…did he ever know the two of you as a couple?”
“No.” Harry sighs. “I think he was almost two when she and I called it quits. Now look at us, we’re all going on a ski trip together, including her boyfriend and his daughter.”
“That won’t be weird?”
“Not really, I’ve known Noah a while.”
“How long have they been together?”
“Well, they’ve been a couple for almost three years, but they were friends beforehand. He’s one of the lawyers at the office she works at. He came on, like, a year after she and I split, they were friends for a while, and I think once he knew she and I weren’t getting back together he made his move.” Harry shrugs. “No skin off my nose, I just wanted her to be happy. His daughter Rachel is as cute as a button too.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “Poor thing, her mum died in a car accident when she was really little. Paige is a great mum, so it was a good fit for everyone I think. The only thing I don’t love is that Noah is, like, almost forty.”
“How old is Paige?”
“Almost thirty-four, so it’s not super weird, but…I think that’s another reason why he waited to ask her out, you know?”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own cabin to take her too.”
“Nope, just a massive house on the lake.” Harry chuckles and looks at his flowers again. “Thank you again for these, it was a nice surprise.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.” She sips her own coffee and gets up to go to her own office.
“How’d you know I’d like these?”
“Everyone likes getting flowers, Harry.” She smiles and leaves.
//
Harry had cancelled his classes during the week of Andy’s February break like he always did. He had forum posts for them to work in in his absence. Going to the cabin wasn’t ask awkward as he thought, and it was good bonding for Rachel and Andy. Harry, Noah, and Paige could hear the two of them giggling as they watched movies at night, it was sweet. Harry mostly stuck with skiing with Andy during the day, and he and Paige took him for a run or two as well. As Andy got older co-parenting got easier, for whatever reason. Any lingering feelings between Harry and Paige had simply fizzled into a normal friendship. There was no malice between them which was good for Andy to see.
“Uncle Harry?” Rachel asks one night at dinner.
“Yes, love?”
“How come you have an accent, but Andy doesn’t?”
“Because Andy wasn’t born and raised in a country where people sound like me. Although sometimes you sound like me when you’ve been around me a lot.” Harry looks at Andy.
“My friends tease me for how I say pasta sometimes.” He chuckles. “I say that like you.”
“It’s true! You say taco like Dad too. It’s pretty funny.”
“Well, those are my two favorite foods so it makes sense.”
“How come you have so many tattoos?” Rachel asks.
“Honey, tattoos can be really personal.” Noah explains.
“It’s alright, I got a lot of them when I was younger. Think my last one was when Andy was born, got his initials my forearm.” He extends his arm out.
“Harry.” Paige clears her throat, nodding towards his mermaid tattoo and shakes her head no.
“Oop! Sorry.” He blushes. “Sometimes I forget she’s there.” He chuckles.
“Can we paint nails after dinner, Uncle Harry?” Rachel pleads.
“Sure! Brought that nail kit you and Dad so nicely got for me.”
“Yay! It’s okay, right, Daddy?”
“Of course, princess.” Noah says lovingly towards his daughter.
After dinner, Harry sits with Rachel at the kitchen table, to not make a mess, while Paige, Noah, and Andy sit in the living room watching TV. On the outside looking in the scene may be odd, but this was working well for all of them. Andy was having a good time and that was all Harry cared about.
//
It was a Thursday night, you both swiped right, and you met him at a bar. After a few drinks you climbed into the backseat of his car and before you knew it you were bouncing up and down on his dick while he pressed hot kisses to your neck. His name was Gabriel, and he was just what you needed right now. Or he would have been if he had been able to last a moment longer. You were so close, and he came into the condom before you had a chance to have your own release. He didn’t even ask if you got yours, he just kissed your cheek and lifted you off him.
“Care to take this back to my place?” He says.
“Think I’ve had enough for one night, thanks.” You say as you button your pants back up.
“Let me at least drive you home.”
“No, that’s okay, I can take an uber.” You get out of his car and slam the door shut. He gets out and looks at you, you turn around and look at him.
“Another time?”
“No, I don’t think so.” You say bluntly and his face falls.
“Thought we just had a nice time.”
“You had a nice time because you got to finish.” You huff as you fix your jacket. You take your phone out and order your ride.
“Thought you did, my bad.”
“Right.” The car pulls up, and you get in.
This is why you hated doing things like this. Men on these dating apps just wanted to get theirs. They just wanted a place to stick it and they didn’t care if you were left satisfied or not. You take a nice, long shower when you get back, scrubbing the smell of Gabriel away from you. You grimace when you see the kiss mark he left on your collar bone. Luckily a shirt and scarf would cover it, and it didn’t look like it would last longer than a couple of days anyways.
//
“Well, were you being vocal about what you needed?” Janette asks you as she sits on the edge of your desk Monday morning.
“I said things like right there or like that…he didn’t even warn me that he was coming, he just did. Then he wanted me to come back to his place with him…”
“Maybe he would have put on a better show for you.”
“The previews certainly didn’t leave me wanting to see more.”
“Preview for what.” Harry says, peeping his head in. He had a slight tan from skiing, and it was sort of cute.
“Y/N saw a really bad preview for this movie about this loser, that’s all.” Janette says. “How was your week away?”
“Actually, not too bad. I think it was good for us to all do something together. Andy had a great time, that’s all I cared about. He even agreed to be with his mum for the entire April vacation.”
“Oh? What’s she going to take him to do?” You ask.
“They’re gonna go to New York to see some shows, I thought it was a great idea. It’ll be good for him to get some real culture.”
“And that’s not a trip you wanted to join in on?” Janette smirks.
“Hmm, large cabin where I have my own space or cramped hotel room?” He weighs his option. “I’ll take the bitter cold and the cabin, thanks.”
“What do you think you’ll do while he’s away?” You ask.
“No idea, I’ve got time to figure it out. Honestly, it’s perfect timing because that’s right during advising weeks so I’ll actually be able to help my students without him sitting in the corner complaining that he’s bored.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t what’s gonna turn my hair grey first, him or the college students.”
“Oh please.” Janette groans. “Men look so much better with a little grey, makes you look distinguished, it’s us who look like old crones when we let our greys out. I don’t wanna hear it.” She shakes her head and looks at her watch. “Gotta get ready for my next class, so you later.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“Do men look better with a little grey.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Depends on the guy, I think. I mean, I’m twenty-six so a little grey wouldn’t scare me away, but I’m not exactly looking for a silver fox.” You laugh and so does he.
“I missed your sense of humor last week. As good of a time it was, I felt like I had to be very careful about the jokes I cracked.”
“Well, no need for a filter here.”
Harry nods and goes into his own office. He thinks for a moment and then peeps his head back into yours.
“So, what movie preview did you see that you didn’t like?”
“What?”
“When I first came in, you and Jan were talking about-“
“Oh! Um, it was so bad I don’t even remember the name.” You tug slightly at your scarf out of nerves.
“Too bad, I could’ve searched it and had a good laugh.” He shrugs and leaves again.
Sometimes you wondered what Harry’s dating life was like, not that it was any of your business. He had mentioned a couple of times he didn’t make a lot of time for it, but what about one night stands? Did he make sure women got theirs when he was with them?
//
“I’m going to look like a fucking idiot compared to all of you.” You pout as you get your robe and hood on.
“You will not. Sort of miss the master’s robe, honestly, they’ve basically got pockets. You’ll have your doctoral one soon enough.” Harry says, putting on his own robes.
“I can never get this thing right, could you help me?”
“Of course.” He steps behind you and adjusts the blue hood for you.
“Do I need the cap? It’s just an honor’s ceremony.”
“You certainly do, and get used to it. This is one of three times a year you’ll need to put this on.”
“Three?”
“Grad commencement and undergrad commencement are separate ceremonies.”
“And we have to go to both?”
“We do.” He sighs. “You’re also not the only professor on this campus that isn’t a PhD yet, so don’t get down on yourself, yeah? You’re working towards it.” You turn towards him and his hands place gently on your shoulders.
“Thanks, Har.”
He smiles at the nickname and lets go of you. You and the other CM professors head over to the CM Honors Inductee Ceremony. It was a nice event for the honors students within the major. As soon as it ends you rip your cap off. You didn’t enjoy wearing it at all. You mingle with a few parents and take pictures with some of the students that wanted you in their photos.
“Y/N?” One of your students, Kayla, says.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering…for our final assignment, instead of writing you a paper about signs, could I make you a video instead?” She was in your Rhetoric and Semiotics class.
“Hmm, I think that could be really interesting. What would a video entail?”
“Well, I thought I could go to the grocery store and show unwritten rules, like how someone will put a divider down on the belt without having to be asked, or how when you go up to the deli you just grab a ticket, how branding works, stuff like that.”
“As long as you still send me a references page I think that could be fine. Of course, I’d have to show it to the rest of the class.”
“Deal.” She smiles. “Thanks.” You nod and then she walks away.
You head back to your office to hang your robe and hood up in your closet. You grab your back and smack right into your Harry.
“Jesus.” You say and back away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”
“No, that was me, I was walking too fast.” He unzips his robe and hangs it up same as you in his own closet.
“Why were you in such a hurry?”
“Single mum at the ceremony got a little too liberal with the hugging, had to get out of there.” He chuckles. “You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Wanna go down to the pub? I don’t have Andy’s still in New York…”
“Sure! That sounds great, actually. Let me just drop all this off in my car.” He nods and you both walk down to the parking lot before walking the rest of the way to the pub.
You both sit down at the bar and order drinks. You both end up getting Mediterranean wraps, not feeling quite hungry enough for nachos this time around.
“Any summer plans yet? I know it’s early, but-“
“Paige and I need to sit down with Andy to figure all that out. He got to stay with me all year, so it would be make sense for him to be with her for the summer, but I have a feeling he won’t like that. School gets out in June for him so I’ve got some time…but I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.”
“Why do you think he wants to be with you so much more?”
“I just think he’s at an age where maybe he feels more comfortable being with me. He’ll be eleven soon, changes are starting to happen.” He chuckles. “Maybe Paige and I could split up the summer or something.”
“How have his grades been? Wasn’t that part of the deal?”
“His marks have been great, he’s doing well. He has some great friends and he loves his teachers. He really enjoyed playing basketball this winter in the town league too.”
“Not that I’m an expert on custody agreements, but couldn’t you do what you’re doing now? Wednesdays and every other weekend with Paige, and the rest of the time with you?”
“He hates the back and forth in the summer, that’s why we agreed on summers with me. I mean, she still sees him in the summer, obviously, but he usually doesn’t have to go every other weekend. We’ll see.” He sighs. “We try to give him what he wants to not make waves, but at the end of the day we’re the parents and he’s the child and what we say goes.” He finishes off his drink and asks for another. “Need a refill?”
“Sure, I could probably handle two.” You shrug.
Two turned into three, then, four, and finally five. The sun had gone down and it was dark outside. You two had split a chocolate lava cake. The bar was starting to fill with college students.
“Holy shit, it’s almost ten!” You say. “Should probably go before some of these kids try to buy me a drink for a passing grade.” Harry laughs at that and agrees. You split the bill, and nearly lose your balance as you hop off the bar stool, clutching as his bicep.
“Wanna split an uber? I can’t drive, and I don’t think you can either.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, good idea. I’ll order it.”
“No, I’ve got it.” He takes his phone out as you both head outside. The car pulls up after a couple of minutes and you both get in. “We’ll drop you off first.”
“Alright.” You smile. “This was fun tonight. I like when we get to hang out.”
“Me too.” He smiles at you. “Can’t believe your first year is almost done.”
“I know, it’s really flown by.” You crane your neck from side to side and sigh. “Maybe now that I know the area better I’ll feel more comfortable trying to really meet someone.”
“Meet someone for what?” You look up at him, making a face as if the answer is obvious. “Oh! That’s cute you think you have time for a relationship.” He laughs.
“Excuse me?”
“Y/N, you spend all your free time on your research.”
“I just spent some free time with you, didn’t I? Janette and I go out, and-“
“Janette travels with Sadie in the summers.”
“Guess that leaves me stuck with you then.” You nudge him. “Actually, I’m hoping to go to Boston for a bit, visit friends and family. I’m hoping to get to the beach too. I love summer.”
“You should come hiking with me. Despite the black flies, May is great because it’s not humid yet.”
“Might have to take you up on that, I really enjoyed it this fall.” The car pulls up in front of your house. “Have a good night, Harry.”
“You too.” You both reach over and hug each other. “See you Monday.”
“See you Monday.” You smile and get out.
//
Once the school year was over, you sat with Lisa and went over your course evaluations. Overall you did really well, and she reaffirmed how happy she was that she hired you. She wishes you a happy summer, and that’s about it. You ask if you’re allowed to use your office in the summer, and she says yes but it gets really hot so it’s not as great as you may think.
Saturday night as you’re having your last girl’s night with Janette you get a text.
Harry: Hey! Know it’s last minute, but I’m taking Andy up Rattlesnake tomorrow morning, care to join?
Y/N: sure! As long as he doesn’t mind…
Harry: got his permission already, we’re all set ;)
You bite your bottom lip and smile, and Janette peaks over your shoulder to see what you could be smiling at.
“God, what a gift it would be if I come back in the fall and you two are dating.”
“Oh, stop.” You nudge her. “We’re friends.”  
“Would it be bad to be more?”
“I don’t really think it’s a good idea to go out with someone you work with…”
“Good luck finding anyone else who’s decent around here then.”
“I could meet someone in Boston, do the long distance thing.”
“That gets old.”
“You’re doing it!”
“Yeah, but I’m more of a free spirit. Sadie and I don’t care about marriage or kids or a house in the hills. You, my sweet friend, would like all of those things.”
“True…” You finish your drink. “Well, if I don’t want to puke on this hike tomorrow I should probably get going.” You both stand and hug and kiss and wish each other fantastic summers.
You get a restful night’s sleep, and get yourself ready in the morning. You had invested in a pair of hiking boots in the fall, so you were feeling prepared. You put on a pair of spandex shorts, and put on some mesh shorts over those. You opt for a sweat resistant short sleeve shirt, and pull your ponytail through a baseball cap. You get everything in your small pack that you’ll need: sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, granola bar, rag, and bug spray. You drive out to the trail and park, lathering your arms and legs with sunscreen. You see Harry’s car pull up, and Andy hops out, bandana and clip keeping his hair back, just like Harry’s. Harry had a sleeveless shirt on and you could really see the definition in his shoulder muscles. You put your sunglasses on and head over to them.
“Morning, boys.” You smile.
“Morning.” Harry smiles back.
“Hi, Y/N.” Andy mumbles shyly.
“Hi, Andy. Dad told me you’re doing well in school. Bet you’re about ready to be done, huh?”
“Yeah, only a few more weeks.”
“Can’t believe he’s going into sixth grade. Makin’ me feel old.”
“You are old.” Andy giggles.
“Mhm, thanks.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
Andy walks a few paces ahead of you and Harry.
“His birthday is soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, next weekend, actually…um…Paige is hosting his party this year.” Andy looks back at Harry making a face, and Harry makes a face back at him.
“That’ll be fun.” You say, not noticing the exchange as you look at the various trees surrounding you.
“Yeah…it will be. Um…it’s Saturday afternoon…”
“Weather looking good?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great. Probably still cold to swim at the lake, though, right?”
“Yeah, but the kids will still have a water balloon fight.”
“Dad, just ask her!” Andy groans as he turns around again.
“Ask me what?”
“He wants you to go with him to the party.”
“Andy!” Harry snaps at him. “Keep walking.”
Andy rolls his eyes and continues to walk ahead of you.
“Is that true, you want me to come?”
“Is that weird?”
“Not really.” You shrug. “Although, I’d only know you and Andy.” You chuckle.
“See…it’s just…Paige’s parents will be there, and that’s fine, but Noah’s parents are coming too, and it would be nice to have a buffer other than my son. He’ll be off playing games and eating junk good, I don’t want him to think he needs to babysit me…”
“I totally get it. I don’t think I have plans, I could go for a little while.”
“Really? I’m not asking too much?”
“Not at all, what are friends for?” You smile and he smiles back.
You walk a few paces ahead of Harry, but still behind Andy, giving Harry the perfect view of your bum in your shorts. He wasn’t staring, but he certainly wasn’t not looking. When you get up to the top your jaw drops. The view of the mountains and the lakes were even better in the late spring. You snap a few photos, taking one of Harry and Andy, Harry taking one of you looking out, and then you all sit down for some water and snacks.
“Andy, do you enjoy hiking with your Dad?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. We go a lot over the summer.”
“Andy’s hiked two of the 4,000 footers, hoping to get a couple more done this summer.”
“Wow! That’s incredible.”
“You should come with us, Y/N. We’re going to camp overnight at one of them.”
“Oh, you don’t wanna go camping with me, I’m a real snob. I need running water and indoor plumbing.”
“It has that.” Harry says, taking a sip of his water. “There’s bathroom, no shower or anything, but working toilets. You bring all your own camping gear. It’s pretty cool.”
“I’ll consider it. Think I should probably go on hikes that are longer than a mile up.” You laugh.
“You guys can do during the week now that school’s over, right?” Andy says.
“I wouldn’t want to exclude you, Andy.” You smile.
“Don’t worry about me.” He crunches down on his granola bar. He shares another look with Harry, but again it goes unnoticed by you, too busy looking out at the beauty of the mountains and lakes.
You all hike down the mountain in not time and say your goodbyes. Harry tells you he’ll text you with more details about the party later in the week.
“I told you she’d say yes.” Andy says from the backseat of the car.
“I wish you had let me work up to it a little more.”
“You were taking too long. Sometimes you just need to pull the trigger, Dad.”
“Is that so?” Harry laughs. “Things are a little more complicated at my age. Sort of awkward asking a colleague out on a date.”
“If you two are friends does that make it a date?”
“Well, she’ll be attending with me, so that makes her my date.”
“Does that mean you’ll kiss her goodnight?”
“Andy!” Harry looks back for a moment and then gets his eyes back on the road. “No, I’m not going to kiss her. You heard her, what are friends for, that’s all she sees me as.” He sighs to himself.
“That’s why you need to step up your game.”
“Son, do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Just, shut up for the rest of the drive home.”
Andy bursts out laughing, but does as Harry asks, knowing he’s being a bit annoying.
//
It was a beautiful day on Saturday, but you were worried about being cold out by the water, so you opt for a pair of high-waist jean capris that flare a bit at the bottom. You find a sleeveless white blouse and pair it with a blue cardigan. You put your hair up in your two buns, and throw on a pair of wedges.
Harry: I’m outside
“Shit.” You say, just finishing your makeup. You run around, grabbing your purse, and the box you had wrapped for Andy’s gift, and head out.
You open the passenger seat and get settled, smiling at Harry.
“You didn’t have to get him anything.”
“I know, it’s just a new basketball. I saw it at WalMart when I was picking up a card. I hate showing up to these things empty handed. What did you get him?”
“A new bike.” He grins. “It’s in his mum’s garage already.”
“Oh! He’ll be so excited. He skateboard too right?”
“Yeah, I really don’t know where he gets his coordination from. Other than skiing I’m pretty clumsy.”
“Don’t you go to a boxing gym?”
“Yeah, and I look like a proper oaf.” He laughs and looks at you. “You look nice by the way. Your outfits are always so put together.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” You blush slightly. You wanted to tell him that you did your hair the way you did because you know he sort of likes it, but you thought that might be a weird thing to say. “Does, um, Paige know you’re bringing me?”
“She does.” Harry nods. “You’re not, like, nervous to meet her are you?”
“No.” You scoff. “Why would I be?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “What did you say to her about me?”
“Well, before I got a chance to say anything last night when she picked Andy up, he spilled the beans.” He rolls his eyes. “So I told her you’re a friend from work…is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s what I am so it makes sense.” You drum your fingers on top of the box to the beat of the music. “None of your family will be there?”
“They’re going to FaceTime in for it. They came for his tenth birthday since it’s a bit more sentimental.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Oh sure, but I love here too much to go back permanently. I like going during winter break, that’s enough.”
“You don’t go during the summer?”
“Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they come to visit here during the summer too. My sister has two kids of her own so it’s not always easy to travel.” You nod your head. “You know, I’ve known you almost a year and I don’t know a thing about your family.”
“What’s there to know? My parents are still together, somehow, I’ve got an older brother who’s a sous chef at a restaurant in Boston. He’s not married, but he has a partner and he’s just lovely. I usually stay with them if I go home for a visit.”
“That’s great! How much older is he?”
“He’s around your age, actually, so not a huge age difference.”
“And when’s your birthday?”
“Beginning of August.” You grin.
“Wow, so you had just turned twenty-six when you came to us.”
“Pretty much, got hired at twenty-five, not too shabby.”
“Not at all.”
The conversation went on for the entire drive. That’s how it always was with you two, always a lot to talk about. When you get out of the car you’re able to get a good look at Harry’s outfit. His outfits were usually well crafted, you’d call his style dad-chic. He was in a pair of tan slacks that he had cuffed at the bottom, a pair of white loafers to go with them, a white tank top tucked in with a floral open short-sleeve button up. Very handsome. You smile at each other and then he leads you around back to where the party was. You weren’t the first people there, but you weren’t the last either.
“Dad!” Andy exclaims and runs over to you both. Harry picks him up and swings him around before setting him down.
“Happy birthday, kiddo.”
“Thanks! Look, all my friends from school came.” He points over to them. Harry recognizes Brandon and his father out of the bunch.
“That’s great, bud, let us come in and say hi to everyone, can you say hi to Y/N?”
“Hi, thanks for coming.” He gives you a surprising hug.
“Oh! You’re welcome, Andy. Happy birthday.”
He runs back over to his friends and you walk further into the backyard. It was stunning. Grass that led to sand that led to the lake water. A boat parked further down by the docks, and just gorgeous views for miles. The house itself was huge, you couldn’t believe it.
“Harry!” A woman, who you would assume is Paige, comes waking over. She was beautiful. Shoulder length blonde hair, sort of thin, but not quite a stick. She was wearing a yellow sundress. Her and Harry share a slight hug. “He’s eleven.” She pouts.
“He’s eleven.” Harry agrees with a sigh. “Oh, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Paige, Andy’s mum.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” She says to you. “Let me take that for you, thank you for bringing him something. I’ll put this with the others.” She takes the box from you. “There’s wine and beer for the adults if you like, but we also have soda and water if you’re not up for drinking. I certainly had a glass after my folks showed up.”
“Did your mother put her white glove on and see if there was any dust?” Harry teases her.
“She may as well have.” Paige rolls her eyes.
Harry puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you closer into the party.
“This is a lovely home.”
“Oh, thank you. I sort of inherited it. It’s was my grandparents’.” She sets your gift on the table with the others. “There’s snacks inside and outside. Feel free to hangout wherever.”
“Where exactly are your parents?” Harry asks.
“Up on the deck.” Paige points up towards it. “Feel free to avoid them as long as you like. They’re speaking with Noah’s parents at the moment. My sister should be here soon.” She looks at her watch. “I’m gonna go check on some things.”
“Alright, love, thanks.” They smile at each other. You get a bad taste in your mouth hearing him call her love, for whatever reason. “Wanna meet some of the parents. I know that guy, Ed, the best. He’s Brandon’s dad, Andy’s best friend.”
“Sure.” You nod and Harry leads you over. “I never quite understood why some parents stay at kids parties.”
“Well…look around you, wouldn’t you wanna hang for a bit?”
“Got me there.”
“Harry, hi.” Ed shakes Harry’s hand.
“Good to see you, this is my friend Y/N, we work together at the university.”
“Hi.” You shake his hand.
“Great to meet you. Brandon was so excited when he got the invite. He and Andy get along so well.” The three of you watch them and the other kids playing tag.
“Born to be friends I’d say.” Harry says.
“Uncle Harry!” A young girl comes running over to Harry and he picks her up, kissing her check, and then setting her down.
“Hi, Rachel, can you say hello to my friend Y/N?”
“Hello.” She beams up at you, a couple of teeth missing. “My grammy and grampy are here.”
“Are they?” Harry says.
“Mhm, I love them a lot.”
“I’m sure they love you too, sweetheart. Are you having a good time for Andy’s birthday?”
“Yeah! We’re going to have a water balloon toss soon.”
“Oh, that’ll be fun!”
“Daddy said he’d be on my team for it.”
“Well, that’s good.”
She smiles again and then runs off.
“Your ex’s boyfriend’s daughter calls you Uncle Harry?” You ask.
“Yeah…she sort of started doing that on her own. She knows I’m Andy’s dad, but I don’t think it quite registers with her yet how we’re all mixed together.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“A glass of white would be great, thank you.” Harry nods and leaves you standing with Ed.
“So, how long have you and H known each other?”
“Well, I started working at the university last August, so less than a year. We’re office neighbors.”
“Ah, how nice. He’s a really great guy, isn’t he? I coach the boys’ basketball team and he was the first to sign up for snack duty.”
“He’s definitely always thinking of others.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
“Oh, um, we’re not.” You shake your head. “He just asked me to come with him, ex in laws, you know?”
“Shit, I’m sorry for just assuming.”
“It’s alright.” You assure him. Harry comes over with a glass of wine for you and a bottle of beer for him.
“Sorry that took a moment, I ran into Noah inside and had to do the hellos. Still managed to not bump into Paige’s parents though, so that’s good.” He chuckles, taking a sip from his drink.
“Bad blood?” You ask.
“Even though things between Paige and I are perfectly fine, in their eyes, I’m always going to be the guy that got her pregnant and didn’t make an honest woman out of her.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Very.”
An hour or so passes and then Paige announces that the balloon toss will be beginning soon.
“Dad, be my partner?”
“You got it, buddy. Mind holding my drink?” He says to you.
“Not at all, have fun.” You smile.
More people had come down off the deck so they could watch. Some parents partnered with their kids, and other kids just partnered with kids. Everyone starts about a foot apart. This should be fun, you think, knowing Harry’s competitive nature.
“Would you look at Harry, he looks like an old man from Florida.” You hear a woman scoff.
“Notice how he’s been avoiding us, always a child.” You hear a man say, and this makes you turn towards them. They must be Paige’s parents.
Everyone playing was further apart now, some balloons had popped, but Harry and Andy were still in the game. The balloon pops at Rachel’s feet and she giggles loudly. There were only a few people now. You watch as Harry lobs the balloon perfectly to Andy, and Andy catches it with ease. It was Brandon and his dad vs. Harry and Andy now. Brandon overthrows it, causing the balloon to pop on the sand.
“We won!” Andy shouts running towards Harry.
“Great job.” Harry jostle’s Andy’s hair. Everyone cheers for them.
“What do you say, honey, cake and gifts now?” Paige asks Andy.
“Yeah.” He smiles.
All of the kids sit around a large glass table while Paige goes inside to get the cake. Harry walks back towards you and you hand him his beer.
“What were you saying about you have no coordination?”
“I had to win, it’s his birthday.” He laughs and then stops when he sees Paige’s parents. “Lydia, Nathan, how are you?”
“Oh, are you speaking with us now?” Lydia says playfully, giving him a hug. Harry shakes Nathan’s hand.
“You know how it is when you first get to a party, lots of excitement. I’d find you eventually.” He clears his throat. “This is Y/N, we work together at the university.”
“Hello.” You smile and they both look you up and down.
“How nice for you to bring a friend.” Nathan says, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“I’m gonna go see if she needs help with the cake.” Harry says to all of you, and you also decide to move away from the rude people you were standing with.
Paige and Harry stand on either side of Andy’s chair as everyone sings happy birthday. After cake the gifts come out. Noah takes Harry into the garage to grab the bike.
“Alright…this one is from…Y/N!” Paige says brightly as she hands the gift to Andy. He tears the wrapping paper off and gasps.
“Alright! A new basketball, thank you!” Andy says looking in your direction and you nod with a smile.
“Okay, Andy, Dad and I got you something really special.” Paige says pointing over to Harry who was wheeling the bike over. Andy’s jaw drops.
“Are you serious?!” He stand up and walks over to the bike.
“Know you’ve been wanting it for a while, and your grades have just been so good this year, we just had to do it. Mum’s got a new helmet, elbow and knee pads for you in the house.”
“Thank you so much!” He hugs Harry and then he hugs Paige.
“You’re more than welcome, baby doll.” Paige says to him and then he squirms away from her.
“Mum.” He huffs.
“Right, sorry, not in front of your friends.”
Paige’s sister helps her clean up the remains of the cake while the kids continue to play yard games. You find yourself sitting in a lawn chair when a man you have yet to meet takes the chair next to you, but you recognize him as Rachel’s father.
“We haven’t gotten to meet yet, I’m Noah.” He shakes your hand.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He smiles. “I was happy to hear Harry was bringing someone with him. Takes a bit of the pressure off.”
“Exactly.” You nod.
“How’d you meet?”
“We’re office neighbors, I started working at the university less than a year ago.”
“Oh! Right, you went hiking with them last weekend.” He says in understanding. “Andy told us. He’s quite the gossip.”
You observe Noah as he speaks. His hair has turned to salt and pepper, definitely had crow’s feet, also wore glasses, but he had a warm and inviting smile, similar to his daughter’s.
“He certainly speaks his mind.” You chuckle. “He’s very sweet though, I have to say.”
“Very sweet. He’s a good kid. It’s nice for Rach to have someone to grow up with a little She adores him, definitely sees him as a big brother.”
“That’s good. I’ve always found blended families to be interesting. You all are doing it well.”
“Took us a while to get to this point, but it’s all been worth it.”
“Y/N?” You both turn to look at Harry. “Party’s starting to dissipate a bit, are you about ready to head out?”
“Sure!” You stand up. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Same here.” Noah stands up and gives Harry a thumbs up without you seeing.
You both say your goodbyes, Andy gives you another hug and says thank you again for the gift. Harry tells him he’ll see him Sunday night, and then you head to his car.
“Hope you didn’t mind when I had to leave to chat a couple of times.”
“Oh, it was fine. I enjoyed just hanging out. It was a beautiful day.” The sun was just starting to set.
“Yeah, I’m glad the weather was nice. I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” He looks at you and then gets his attention back on the road. “You really did look nice today.”
“Thank you, Harry.” You smile and give his shoulder a squeeze.
“Am I…taking you straight home?”
You blink a couple of times before looking at him.
“Where else would we go?”
“Well, I’ve got a back deck of my own. We could sit out, enjoy the sunset…if you want.”
“That sounds nice, actually. Yeah, let’s do that.” You smile.
“Great.”
You notice his jaw and shoulders relax. Were you making him tense? You both listen to the music on the radio as he drives you to his home. You smile as he pulls up. It was a decent size ranch. Cream color paneling and red shutters, very cute.
“Here were are.” He says awkwardly as you both get out.
“Do I get a tour?”
“Of course!”
He unlocks the front door and leads you inside. There was an open concept kitchen and living area. The house smelled like fresh coffee. He noticed you taking a whiff.
“I have an automatic air freshener.” He says and you nod.
“I like it, should get one for my place.”
“There’s a full bath down the hall, Andy uses that, and then I have my own bathroom. Three bedrooms totally, and then you can see I technically have two levels, that’s what I use for my office.”
“It’s a huge loft.”
“Yeah, it’s partially why I bought the place. I didn’t feel cramped. Basement’s partially finished which will be great for Andy when he’s over if he wants to have parties or whatever. Uh, and then the deck is this way. Can I get you anything…I only have red wine, I know you like white…”
“Red’s fine, maybe just put an ice cube in it for me?”
“Can do, make yourself comfortable outside.” He smiles.
You slide the glass door open and smile. It was a decent sized deck. There was a small glass round table with chairs, a grill, and some Adirondack chairs as well. You sit in one of those after taking a glance at the flowers and plants he had in pots. You also notice the various flower beds he had in the yard.
“Here you go.” He says, sitting down next to you, handing you the glass of wine.
“Thank you.” You smile and take a sip. You cross your cardigan over yourself.
“Are you cold? I can get a blanket.”
“Oh, no I’m fine, thanks. It’s beautiful out here.”
“Thanks, took me a while to get it landscaped the way I like.” He lights the citronella candle on the small table between you to help keep any bugs away. “I’ve been thinking of getting an above ground pool for Andy, he loves to swim, but it’s a lot maintenance, and his mum as the lake right there.”
“That house is incredible.”
“Noah’s helped her revamp it quite a bit, and the boat’s his.” He takes a sip of his drink and looks at you. “Thanks again for coming today.”
“Of course, I had a really good time.” You smile.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Not at all. It was nice to finally meet the people you’ve told me so much about.”
“Are you hungry or anything? I could bring some-“
“Harry.” You put your hand over his that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Relax, yeah? I’m all set, thank you.”
“Alright.” He blushes and looks straight ahead. You notice him check an app on his phone. “Are you free Tuesday morning?”
“I think so, why?”
“Weather’s looking good, how about we go on one of those longer hikes?”
“I’d like that.” You smile. “Anything special I’d need to back.”
“Just a lunch, maybe some T.P.”
“You’re funny if think I’m going to take a piss in the woods.”
“Everyone does it.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’d keep lookout for you.”
“You men have it so easy, you can just whip your things out, go quick, and you’re all set. Me, I’d have to roll my pants down, squat, hope none of it got on my shoes, wipe, and then get dressed again.”
“I’ve had to do that before, sometimes you just need to take a shit in the woods.” You burst out laughing at that. “Course that only happened because I went out drinking the night before.”
“Good to know.” You wipe a tear from your eye. “But seriously, I’d love to go hiking with you Tuesday.”
“I know it was more so Andy that invited you on our little camping trip, but you’re welcome to join in on that if you feel comfortable.”
“I would just feel like I’m intruding on your quality time.”
“You wouldn’t be, he likes you…um…I like you.” Your head snaps in his direction and your eyebrows shoot up. “I mean, like, I like hanging out with you, is all.” He was internally cringing at himself.
“I like hanging out with you too.” You swallow. “I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other so well. You’ve been a great help with my classes. You’re so progressive, not always using the same syllabus and being willing to make things work for the students. It’s refreshing.”
“Please, go on, the narcissist within me is loving it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re doing really well. I enjoyed observing your rhetoric class. It was a nice refresher. I hope you won’t work yourself to much this summer. I know it’s more time for research and writing, but it’s also time for you to clear your head.”
“Thanks, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” You finish off your wine just as the sun it setting, the light from the candle being the only thing to keep things bright enough to see.
“I can, uh, bring you home now if you want.”
“I could just get an uber so you don’t have to go out again.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble.”
Harry drives you home, and you find yourself lingering in the car.
“So…Tuesday?”
“Tuesday.” He smiles. “Bright and early.”
“How early?” You raise an eyebrow.”
“How’s six sound? I’ll come pick you up, we’ll get to the trailhead by 6:30. It’s always better to summit earlier in the day.”
“You’re the expert.” You shrug. “Works for me.”
You both lean across the console to give each other a hug a goodbye, like you normally would, only this time…you press your lips to his cheek before getting out of the car. His gaze stays fixed on you, and it’s not until you’re inside your building where he lightly presses his fingers to his cheek to feel where you kissed him.
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crescentsteel · 3 years
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Keeping a Secret - Part 4
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pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.6k
[a/n]
Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu
AO3
Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist
Tsukishima might not like you, but at least you unspokenly agreed on how to treat the strange tension from last time’s meeting: ignore it. 
No one dared mention it. Since he arrived a while ago, no one talked unless needed. It’s not like the air is awkward, it’s just silent, devoid of last time’s weird shenanigan as you continued on with the unfinished assignment from his previous visit.
“I assume you’re done from how you’re spacing out at nothing,” he reprimands.
You flinch and realize that you’ve been staring at the wall behind Tsukishima. 
“Oh, uhhh.” You check your laptop to see your progress and surprisingly, you really are done. Your brain must have shut down on it’s own when it registered that you’re finished with your work for the day.
“Yep!” You snicker proudly at him. “Are we going to watch crocodiles doing the nasty now?” you ask him with eager interest.
You really have a way with words that always throws him off-guard, yet instead of scowling at you, he just gives out a resigned sigh. He knows you aren’t trying to irk him. That’s just how you really are.
It’ll be better for his sanity to just tolerate your and leave you be than drive himself to the brink of madness.
“Yeah,” he responds thriftly.
You giddily scurry over at his side of the table and comfortably seat yourself beside him. You hug your knees as he prepares several videos from BBC Earth and Nat Geo Wild that shows and explains crocodile mating behavior. He turns up the volume of his laptop to its loudest so you can both hear the audio clearly.
In the second video, the voice-over explains the kinds of display reptiles make to attract their potential mate. His eyes glance at you briefly. Not that he’s complaining about it, but you’re acting unusually docile today . You’ve been mostly quiet ever since he arrived.
It’s all good until he hears a wheezing noise that sounds all too real and all too weird for it to come from the video.
He looks to you and immediately finds the culprit.
Your lips are parted with your neck extended forward and your chin tilted up a bit while you produce guttural sounds, making it seem like you’re choking.
“What are you doing?”
You face him, still looking like an idiot as you continue making a sound he’s never heard of with the same absurd upper body posture. He looks at you with abhorrence when he starts to realize what you’re doing. 
Are you actually trying to imitate a crocodile bellowing for a mate?
You sit up straight and beam at him with pride. “How’s that for a mating call?”
If he were a male crocodile, he’d find another estuary to escape away from that horrible sound you were producing. “You sound like you’re dying,” he says as he remembers how it seemed like you were hoarsely scratching your vocal cords together.
“Wait, wait. Lemme try again,” you announce with determination, which he finds pointless and  totally unnecessary. He doesn’t care if you successfully do it. He even prefers you stop trying at all.
Yet, you still pressed on. You resume your earlier actions, looking even more ridiculous as you start to sound and look like a seagull squawking repeatedly. 
He should be irritated since you’re wasting time. Instead, he puts a fist over his mouth, attempting to hold back a snort. You don’t seem to notice because your eyes are on the laptop as you keep trying to replicate what you’re seeing on screen. 
When you actually start choking, he lets out the laugh that he’s been holding in which makes you look at him. You try to speak but it comes out distorted as you’re still coughing from your mating call attempt.
“You look like an idiot.” He laughs harder when regret surfaces on your eyes while clearing your throat.
He recovers from his outburst of laughter at the same time you manage to soothe your voice back to normal. He’s expecting you to be embarrassed from the stunt you tried to pull, which you appear to be seeing as you’re  covering your face with your palms. You don’t seem to be upset though because he can hear your muffled giggles.
You quickly remove your hands and face him. “I was sure I could do it, okay? You didn’t have to laugh that hard!” Despite the pout you show him, your eyes twinkle with levity as you hold his stare.
How the fuck you can you be so weird but still so pretty at the same time? 
No wonder you have the rest of them wrapped around your pretty little finger. You just flash them that delightful smile of yours and you completely have them under your spell.
But not him, of course. Definitely not him.
Also, he tries to convince himself, he didn’t think you were pretty at all.
He’s just looking from the perspective of his teammates on why they adore you so much. Nothing more, nothing else. 
To him, you’re still the irksome manager he knows you are. This set-up is just temporary. He’ll never forget how you really are - overbearing, cunning, and infuriating. This strangely charming  attitude you’re showing him is just because of the temporary ceasefire between the both of you, and this easy, comfortable atmosphere is just born out of necessity. When this project is finished, you’ll be back to the real you. So he shouldn’t be wasting his time reading into whatever’s happening between you two.
“Should we continue watching?” you ask him lightheartedly as you hug your knees again, softly leaning your head against them.
The nerve of you to ask that. You’re the one who disrupted the videos, not him. He should be the one berating you to get back to the project instead of you pleasantly asking him to continue where you left off. 
“You’re the one who interrupted the whole thing in the first place,” he spats rather than answering your question, wishing you’d retort with something stupid so he can go back loathing you silently.
Instead, you simper apologetically and mutter a timid, “My bad.”
Then you extend your arm to his laptop and rewind to where the video was before you distracted him with your audacious growling.
During the remainder of the videos, he glances every once in a while to check if you’re going to do something distracting again. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell anymore which is worse) you stay well-behaved and entirely focused on the documentary with your arms wrapped around your tucked legs tucked and your chin resting to your knee.
When the documentaries end, he pulls up the video he took with your phone from your crocodile farm trip. Compared to the produced output you’d just gone through, the amateur video he captured at the farm is evidently not as exciting to watch. The quality is not that great because his hand had been shaky while filming it. He remembered not looking at the screen of your phone while filming it because he had been looking at you. 
Rather than noticing that aspect of the video, you comment about the audio.  “I can’t hear anything from the breeding pen. I only hear my voice and Sara’s.”
He’s about to reason out that you’re talking non-stop but he immediately realizes that it’s not necessarily a bad thing because you were asking Sara questions related to the project at that time.
“I want to hear them growling,” you declare. 
“I’m not sure they even were. This is an artificial environment for crocodiles. Also, we’re a bit far from them,” he explains. 
You face scrunches up with disapproval. “Why didn’t you just zoom the camera in?”
His jaw drops from how appallingly dim-witted your question is. He’d think you were kidding but you look genuinely upset because you can’t hear the sounds you heard from the videos earlier. 
First of all, just like he said, they might not even be making sounds at all. Secondly, your phone, despite being a good model, wouldn’t be able to miraculously capture sounds even if he zoomed it outrageously close to the reptiles. Lastly and most importantly, are you actually that dumb?
He doesn’t even know how to condense all his thoughts properly and convey how revolted he is from the amount of brainlessness you can put in one simple question that’s less than ten words. 
Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you too.
“Oh God,” you mutter weakly as you put two palms to cover the lower half of your face. 
You two share the same expression of disgust as you realize how stupid you sounded while you hold his gaze. 
You press your lips together in a thin line then bust your gut out with an uproar laugh that fills your room. You tug the sleeve of his shirt as you look at him with glossy eyes.
“I’m a dunce,” you admit with trails of laughter still seeping from your voice.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks so,” he says with half-hearted insult as he’s still figuring out if he did something or is it your own stupidity that’s causing your outburst.
You bite your trembling lips in an attempt to fend off another laugh, but fails to do so when you clutch his arm tighter and another round of jovial laugh escapes from your mouth.
You try to form a phrase but it’s drowned out by your own cackles. Still, he catches on with what words you manage to utter. 
You are laughing at yourself. 
He always thought you liked making fun of others because you’re always simpering every time someone’s at your mercy -- those boys who relentlessly try to hit on you; any member of the team who gets flustered when you praise them; and him, especially him, who seems to be your personal favorite person to pick on. 
Yet, he’s never seen you this elated before, with your face scrunched up as you go hysterical from your own silliness. 
He can’t help but think that maybe he misunderstood you a little bit. You’re not actually a pompous bitch. You’re just a crackhead who finds joy in the littlest, most foolish things.
“I swear to God, Tsukishima. Our university is in ruin for making me a goddamn scholar.” You let go of his arm and sniffle while wiping your tears of joy.
When you look up to him, your face is glowing. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are gleaming at him effervescently, and your smile is not as annoying as it used to be. 
Objectively speaking, it’s similar to your usual ones, except it’s also totally different. He can’t really fully grasp why but there’s something about it that distinguishes it from all the others he’s seen from you.
He must have been peering at you more than necessary because your smile dissolves gradually while your mirthful expression turns into a puzzled one. 
You’ve been trying to ignore the thought, but Tsukishima is definitely acting weird today; weird because he’s not as mean as he usually is. 
Well, duh. You do have some sort of agreement for him to tone it down. Still, you didn’t expect he’d do it this well. Even when he was laughing at you earlier, it wasn’t as demeaning as it should have been.
And to make you even more puzzled, right now, he’s just staring blankly at you. 
Generally, Tsukishima’s empty glares at you are not really empty. They contain inhibited disdain which he has not failed to show you over the years you’ve been their manager. Even when he’s actually trying not to let it show, you still easily see through him. 
But at this moment, you have no idea what’s going on in his head. His eyes are studying you quietly and you return his stare, trying to figure out what he could possibly be thinking. 
You’re about to ask him what’s wrong but as soon as you open your mouth, a familiar glint surfaces on his face as his gaze drops on your lips.
If the latter parts of the previous meeting were awkward, this one goes beyond awkward.
There is an abrupt drop of weight that looms across the whole room, a weight so heavy that you find it difficult to breathe. The room is spacious enough for two, but you feel like it’s too cramped up all of a sudden. 
It’s an all too familiar feeling that you did not anticipate would ever come back. In fact, it should not be back at all. 
It is as exciting as it is terrifying when you realize: you want to kiss him. 
You previously justified your actions as something sort of a ‘one time madness’ and. until now, you were sure it was just that. It was a whim brought by his sudden closeness fueled by the atmosphere of the club at the time. 
You were wrong.
Even at this dull, academic setting with him barely even touching you, you itch to feel him close. You want to relive the feeling of his body pressed against yours and his lips latched fervidly onto yours. 
Damn it. He should stop staring at you like he wants the same thing. It’s tempting you even more to give in to the urge even though you know you’ll regret it later.
But no, you really can’t. Once was enough. Twice will be a different story. 
You had assured him and yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. If you cross that line now, you’re going to have to admit the irrevocable fact that you’re attracted to him. 
You let out a shaky breath as you avert your gaze from his. 
You’re about to replay the video when you hear a sudden thud on the floor. You look back at him with worry only to see his hand slammed against the floor as he swiftly lunges forward to close the gap between you and him. 
His free hand goes to your chin and tilts it up as he crashes his lips on yours.
It’s just as you remember - calm yet impassioned, successfully sweeping away any incertitude you had about kissing him. Your mind is only filled with how good he feels as he impatiently drags his hand to your waist and tugs you closer. 
You wrap an arm around his neck to completely eliminate whatever space is left between your bodies. You grasp the back of his head as you return his kiss with the same ardor, your mouths naturally cascading against one another with a rhythm you two can perfectly understand and follow without any words needed.
When he sneaks his tongue in, you begin to forget what he is to you outside the confines of this room as you helplessly moan into his mouth.
You can tell he’s not doing so well either with how tight he’s grasping the small of your back as the intensity of the kiss grows with each ticking second. 
“Tsukishima,” you puff heavily as you withdraw away from him with half-lidded eyes, the feel of his lips still lingering on yours. 
You hope that the soft call of his name will be the voice of reason for him to stop kissing you. He needs to stop for you’re totally powerless to do it yourself. He needs to stop before it escalates into something else, something more.
Thankfully, he does stop. 
He takes a deep breath as his eyes travel from your lips up to your eyes, meeting your gaze to study the entirety of your features. 
He thought you were going to ask him to stop, hence the conflicted tone of your voice when you said his name. But the look on your face tells him otherwise. 
You like this as much as he does. He didn’t want to admit it last time, but fucking hell. You really do make a complete mess of his rational thinking with how good you taste, how your determined eyes mellow down within his embrace, and how you yield right on the first touch of his lips. 
He knows he should stop. It’s the perfect chance to do so. It shouldn’t matter how soft and pliant you are when pressed against him. It shouldn’t matter that you look like you want him to continue wherever this leads to.
But it does. He doesn’t want to stop, and he knows neither do you.
He grits his teeth in annoyance as he hisses at you, “Shut up.” 
Just like he did a while ago, he easily covers the tiny distance between your lips. He gets a little more greedy this time and slides his hand underneath your shirt, experimenting with what he can do to earn him another whimper from you. He’d like to revel on the sound of your meekness once again. 
It didn’t really take much. At the first contact of his palm on the bare skin of your waist, you instantly give him what he wants. 
Your soft moan fills his ears that he doesn’t hear the sudden clack of the door. 
“Y/n, did you do our - oh!”
You violently tug his head past the curve of your shoulder, making him take out his hand from your shirt and ram it against the floor to support himself. 
“Couldn’t you knock?” you ask breathlessly to whoever’s on the door.
He tries to free himself from you but judging from  how firm your grip is on his head, it doesn’t look like you want him to move from his current position. It doesn’t help that you’re almost choking him from how hard you’re pressing his neck against your collar bone. 
“I can’t breathe!” he whispers infuriatingly, but you don’t answer. You only clutch on his hair tighter.
“My bad, dude. I didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” your friend says defensively. 
Out of all the possible times she could choose to come over, it had to be when you and Tsukishima were making out. You’re a tiny bit grateful for being stopped when neither of you wanted to, but more embarrassed that it was because your friend walked in on the scene. 
“Can you come back later?” you ask almost nervously, concerned that she might recognize that it’s Tsukishima leaning against you. She knows him because they used to have classes together last semester.
Your friend just shrugs it off and is about to close the door when her eyes catch Tsukishima’s jacket. Her eyes widen in shock when she sees the logo of the Sendai Frogs. 
“Holy shit! Are you dating one of your players?” She looks back at you incredulously. 
“Get out!” you yell out from agitation. 
She flinches from the sudden raise of your voice but is quick to understand that you need the privacy right now. “Okay, okay. I got it,” she mutters apologetically and whispers, “Sorry,” before she finally shuts the door.
You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves without figuring out that it was Tsukishima. As for him, he tears your hand away and faces you with fury seeping from his orbs. 
“Were you trying to kill me?!”
You dismiss his anger and regard him impassively. “Then would you have preferred your face being seen?”
“So what? It’s not like she knows me,” he leans forward towards you a bit to emphasize his point with the same angry tone.
With his face too close for comfort, you suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re still trapped between the arms planted on both sides of you. 
“Um, can you back off for a bit?” You turn away tensely, worried that you might want an encore of what your friend interrupted if you continue staring at him from this distance.
“Huh?” He sounds like he has no idea what you’re talking about so you place both hands on his chest to softly push him away.
He must have realized it then because he lifts himself off of you and sits back to upright. 
You try to settle down but to no avail. Your heart is still beating abnormally, despite being now  rid of your nosy friend and his dangerous proximity. The deafening silence rings in your ears and the air feels heavy again, your mind drifting dangerously back to the earlier events.
“This is your fault,” Tsukishima mumbles with a frown. 
You gasp at his audacity. “Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me!” 
“Because you ...” he trails off before he could say what was going on in his head: because you looked so damn fascinating that he caved to his want for a repeat of that night. So it really is your fault. If you hadn’t kissed him back then, he wouldn’t have found out how exquisite it feels to have you succumb to him. Then, he wouldn’t have been tempted to kiss you at all. 
Shit. He sounds stupid, justifying his own reckless behavior. 
He looks down at your waist which he was just touching. If your friend hadn’t barged in, how far will you two have gone? 
He shudders at the thought. No. There was absolutely no fucking way you two would’ve done that. He won’t be able to stomach it if that happens. You might have been tolerable today, but that doesn’t mean he can stand the idea of going beyond making out with you. 
Did he just admit to himself that he doesn’t mind kissing you? 
“Because I what?” you ask him with an addled look. 
“Nothing,” he answers as he starts fixing his stuff. 
“Hey, what’re you doing? We still need to do a comparison write-up for the videos,” you say,  watching him pack up. 
“Let’s just pick up where we left off when we meet again.” He can’t be around you any longer today. You’re causing too much havoc to his usually sensible mindspace. 
“Aren’t we going to talk about what just happened?”
Not bothering to heed your question, he continues what he’s doing. After he puts the only remaining binder he has out back in his bag, he faces you. 
“No,” is his answer before he slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves your room. 
--
Damn that Tsukishima. 
As if you don’t have enough on your plate already, he adds another massive one on the pile. You wish you can just disregard it, push it at the back of your head like you did the first time. But you can’t. 
You were supposed to study the Lion’s new line, but you just end up zoning out every five minutes as the scene replays in your head. You even transferred to the lobby even though you hated working there just for a change of pace.
It turned out useless as people you know kept on stopping by for small chats. You couldn’t focus on the game footages which needs your full concentration to analyze.
So there you are, restless and distraught,  as you enter the gym with no printed output because you hadn’t accomplished anything at all.
Not that they need it today but you just generally like to have them ready in advance. You know your team. Almost everyone has their day jobs or are students like you. You don’t want to spring a hell load of reading material on them days away from the game. 
On top of that, you’re lagging behind the schedule you set for your project with the Tsukishima. No thanks to him for walking out the past two meetings.
“Do you have the profile of the Lions ready?” Coach Mira asks first thing when you get to her side. 
Great. Just great. You were hoping no one brings it up, but of course Coach has to. You did tell her you’d have it prepared by today.
“Sorry, Coach. I’ll have them ready by next training,” you quickly compromise for your setback. 
She swiftly turns to you with concern. “Are you sick?”
“Oh, no. I’m totally fine, Coach. Just had something to do last night,” you lie despite the guilt in your gut. The last time you were late with the team reports was when you became extremely sick. This time it’s because of some blonde guy that’s somewhere across the gym.
She breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I don’t really mind them being not as early as usual. I just don’t want our trusted manager getting sick.”
Her small compliment makes you feel a bit better. “Thanks, Coach.” You give her a faint smile.
“Alright, can you toss to the spikers?”
You nod and quickly turn around, only to see the cause of your delayed work blocking your path. Typically, you’d say something but you’re too bothered with what happened that you just move sideways to avoid him. However, he moves in the same direction you do. So you go the opposite way again, only for him to follow. 
At this point, you couldn’t suppress the dry laugh that comes from how spectacularly ironic the scene is. 
You look up to him. “Tsukishima,” you call out as you give him that too sweet of a grin he hates so much. “I’d appreciate it if you use those blocking skills on the court instead of me, hmm?”
This is the you Tsukishima is very much aware of - detestable to the core. Yet, on top of his annoyance is relief. It’s reassuring to see that you’re still very much the manager he knows you are, not the somehow tolerable person he made out with last time.
So instead of answering, he does the usual and turns deaf ears at you. While you’re sneering at him, he moves further to the side and successfully gets past you. 
He’d tell you about his fix for the current dilemma you two are having, but with Coach within earshot, he’d rather not. He doesn’t want anyone, especially the team, knowing that you’re spending some time alone with him, let alone getting physical with him. He’ll never hear the end of it from them, so he’ll just text you later. 
--
You can’t believe Tsukishima actually suggested doing the project at their home. You don’t think he’s the kind of person who invites classmates to their house just because of school work. It is hard to imagine him introducing people to whoever he’s living with, let alone you.
Maybe they’re gone for the day. That’s why he invited you over. 
You ring the doorbell of the address he gave you. Quite soon enough, another tall blonde person opens the door. He must be another Tsukishima - a nice Tsukishima with a pleasant face that looks nothing like the permanent nonchalance plastered on the face of your middle blocker. 
“Yes?” the pleasant Tsukishima asks. 
You greet him with a warm smile. When you ask for the other Tsukishima you’re going to work with, his face noticeably lights up. “You’re looking for Kei?” he asks softly but with audible excitement. 
“Um, yeah. He asked me to come.” You’re very curious as to why he looks so pleased, but it’d be rude to ask him upfront when you just met him.
Before the guy in front of you can even answer, you already hear the voice of the one you’re looking for. 
“Let her in, Nii-chan.”
Nii-chan? Oh my God. That’s the cutest thing ever! You didn’t think Tsukki’s the kind of guy to address his older sibling like that. 
“I’m Akiteru by the way,” the older Tsukishima introduces himself as he opens the door for you.
“Y/n. here,” you respond delightfully then give him a gracious bow before entering. 
As you remove your shoes upon stepping inside, you already see Tsukki seated in the living room with his stuff set up. You don’t know if he’s started working on the project but he’s already focused on his laptop.  
You would've made yourself feel at home, but this is not solely his place. You don’t want to be impolite. 
“You can go join him, Y/n. I’ll go to my room now,” Akiteru kindly tells you and turns around. 
“Wait,” you blurt out.
He faces your way again. “Yeah?”
“Can I call you Aki-san? I don’t want to confuse you when I say ‘Tsukishima.’” 
He gently holds both your hands and pulls them up as he clasps them together with his.
“You can call me Aki-nii-chan if you want,” he says with a hopeful look on his face. You can tell he’s got the completely wrong idea about you and Tsukishima, which confirms your earlier assumption.
Yet instead of being uncomfortable, you find yourself amused. Tsukishima must have never brought a girl home before, thus the excitement and false assumption from Akiteru. 
“I think I like Aki-san better,” you respond respectfully, hoping that you don’t have to spell it out for him.
“Stop it. She’s just a classmate,” you hear Tsukishima say.
Akiteru lets go of your hand and laughs apologetically. “Sorry about that. I’ll leave you two alone now.” He smiles briefly at you and heads upstairs.
You walk towards Tsukishima and sit beside him. “What were you thinking inviting me over?” you instantly ask. You know he must already be aware of the possibility that his relatives would very likely  assume things, which was just proven true by Akiteru.
“As much I despise the idea of having you here, this is better than being in your place,” he says with his attention still on his laptop.
“How so?” You glance at his laptop and see that he’s working on a different subject than the one you have together. When notices it, he closes the tabs and faces you.
“We’re not completely alone here. We won’t get unwelcome urges.”
Oh dear Lord. So that’s what this is about. He thinks that being alone with you is the cause of it.
“I hate to remind you this, Tsukishima, but the first time we kissed was in the middle of a club packed with people. It’s not the place that’s the issue,” you emphasize the last sentence.
Before you went there, you decided to just accept the fact that you and Tsukishima have this uncanny attraction towards each other. The last meeting’s events were proof of that. Instead of getting all worked up trying to deny it or disregard it as something else, you just acknowledge it for what it really is. 
“Then what is?” Unlike you, he seems to entirely shut out the disturbing conclusion you came up with. That’s why he decided to meet here instead of your place despite whatever his family might think.
Too bad for him though, you’re about to break the news to him.
“We’re attracted to each other,” you declare without any reluctance.
“No,” he quickly rejects the notion. “I don’t care what you feel about me, but I am not in any way attracted to you,” he says every word with solid conviction that you’re not sure if it’s meant to convince you or himself.
“Right. Why did you kiss me last time then?” you counter.
“Whatever the reason is, that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you. I tolerate you when we’re not in the gym. That’s the extent of what I feel for you.”
You sigh as you rub your face with your palms. “Why do you have to be such a fucking tsundere, Tsukki? I’m doing this for the both of us.”
His face contorts to one that’s filled with utter displeasure. “How the hell is this beneficial for us?”
“Hear me out and think about it before you say ‘no’ again,” you begin. “I think we should just give in to this weird thing going on between us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re starting to get annoyed at this point. His denial of the situation is making him stupid. Does he think this is easy for you? You don’t want this either. But what can you do? The thick, unmistakable attraction is there.
For fuck’s sake, do you really have to spoonfeed it to him?
“Tsukishima Kei,” you let out one heavy puff before you say it. “You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” you announce.
You’ve never felt more offended than when he looks utterly disgusted at your proposal. 
“Your head’s way too big from all the moronic ideas you're stuffing in it. Just because I initiated it last time doesn’t mean I want to do it again,” he utters each word with unrepressed contempt that makes you feel humiliated for suggesting such a thing.
You’re not a sensitive person. You can easily laugh off whatever anyone throws your way. Especially with Tsukishima since you know much he dislikes you. But that one - that one hurt. 
You shake your head and start taking out your stuff. “You’re right. It was a moronic idea. So forget I even suggested it,” you say while setting up your laptop on the table. 
You can’t stand the repugnant look on his face so you keep your eyes in front of you even if your laptop is still booting up.
“Let’s just do what we should be doing. Sorry, I wasted our time with my stupidity.” You don’t want to, but now you’re starting to really feel sorry for yourself. 
It shouldn’t be new or surprising to you. This is Tsukishima. His personality is terrible as hell. Yet, you wouldn’t mind a few kisses from him every now and then. You bared yourself just now by admitting that. 
Tsukishima must be so pleased you finally shut up because you don’t hear anything from him. You’re thankful for it because you don’t want to talk either.
Instead of dwelling on self-loathing, you distract yourself by giving your all to the project at hand. You’re already behind schedule so all the more reason to be efficient. 
No one speaks while you completely lose yourself on your tasks for the day. You don't know how long you’ve been going at it but before you even know it, you’re almost done with your share of work for the day. 
You just need Tsukishima’s output to finish yours.
With your head occupied with the amount of work you need to get done, you easily got over the tiny pang you felt earlier. You turn to Tsukishima and ask him for his write up. 
He frowns at your request. “You’re done already?”
You nod. “Just need your thingy then I can go home.”
He checks your laptop to see for himself and scowls when he confirms that you really are almost done.
“Give me 30 minutes,” he says as he begins rushing his own work.
“Don’t rush it, Tsukishima. I can do other stuff while I wait for you. Also, if you don’t mind. Do you have coffee?” You can feel the exhaustion begin to set in your body. For the past four nights, you’ve been getting three to fours of sleep only. 
As the only manager of the Frogs, you constantly have to move around the gym to help them out. But unlike the players, your real work is outside the gym - sorting paperwork, gathering information about other teams, coordinating practice matches, and so on. On top of that, you have your academic subjects to deal with.
You’re honestly used to it. But being a graduating student this semester, things are tougher for you. Not to mention the shit with Tsukishima, which has been bothering you for the past few nights. 
Well, at least that one’s been dealt with already.
You must have spaced out because you did not notice Tsukishima leave, and are surprised when he’s suddenly beside you with a cup of coffee already at hand. 
“Did you put sugar?” You might have sounded a bit demanding, but you’re too tired to be polite.
“No. Did you want some?” he asks back.
You get the mug and take that first sip of coffee that wakes up your almost dead body. “No, this is perfect,” you comment with a weary smile as you replace the current doc file open with the draft of the Lions’ profile you’ve been working on. 
Tsukishima can’t help but look at you once in a while even though he needs to finish already so you can finalize yours as well.
You’re completely immersed in what you’re doing, taking the cup of coffee to your mouth every now and then without even taking your eyes off your screen. 
He thought you’re getting restless but the quickening clack of your keyboard is proving otherwise. In fact, it’s becoming distracting. He’s about to put his headphones on so he can concentrate on his own task when he hears the abrupt slowing down of your typing. What’s alarming is he starts hearing you take excruciatingly deep breaths that wavers when you let them out. 
One look at you and he knows that you’re not okay. You’re blinking way too fast and the corners of your mouth are almost drooping. Those and your uneven breathing is enough to cause him to worry. 
He grabs your shoulder and forces you to look at him. “Oy, what’s wrong with you?”
You look at him with no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Hmm?”
The lack of life in your orbs is very concerning. It’s nothing compared to how you looked like when you were dead beat on the way home from the crocodile farm. 
“Are you having hard time breathing?” 
“Oh, that,” you let out a laugh that seems to contain the last strand of energy you have. “I’m just palpitating. Sorry if it’s distracting. You should go put your headphones on,” you say with a dead tone as you start picking up the pace again on what you’re doing. 
Just palpitating? Jesus Christ. 
He quickly takes away your coffee and slides it to his side of the table. It immediately catches your attention, your eyes absent-mindedly following the cup. “Hey, that’s my coffee. I need that,” you weakly complain.
“You need to rest,” he contradicts you. 
“I don’t need rest. I need to finish this and for me to finish this, I need,” you involuntarily inhale sharply and release it heavily before you complete your sentence, “that coffee.”
He checks your laptop and finds a comprehensive report on the updated line up of the Hiashi Automotive Lions. For someone who looks like she’s about to faint, it’s consistent with the other reports you’ve given the team previously - organized and well done. 
“You’re almost done here. Go take a nap.”
“Why would I take a nap if I’m almost done?” Despite the exhaustion evident in your whole being, you’re still determined to continue working. 
“You look like you’re about to pass out and I don’t want to take care of you when you do. So take a fucking nap on the couch,” he snaps. He didn’t mean to sound that harsh but it’s really getting on his nerves how you’re almost killing yourself with overworking.
You stare at him vacantly for a short while but do what he said. You drag yourself towards the couch and lazily lie yourself on it.
You cross your arms and rest them on the cushioned surface. Then, you snuggle your head on top of your arms as you wiggle your legs to a comfortable position. 
“You can use the pillows” he informs you.
“I’m fine,” you mutter with your eyes already shut. 
As much as he wants to get things done as fast as he can, your uneven heaving is a cause of concern. He keeps glancing behind him to check if you’re okay.
If he knew you’d be like this, he wouldn’t have given you the damn coffee.
He’s only able to start focusing on the project when your breathing becomes steady. Still, it took him more than 30 minutes to finish. He looks over to where you are again and calls out your name. However, you don’t even move an inch.
He walks towards the couch and sits at the unoccupied space by your waist. From this distance, he can see that your features are a bit more relaxed now even with just less than an hour of sleep.
He’s certain that you’ve been overworking yourself. It’s only because of your stubbornness that you were able to pull off the things you accomplished tonight. 
He’d let you rest a bit more longer but it’s going to get too late for you to go home on your own if he does. So he places a hand on your arms and gently shakes it.
“Mmmmm,” you hum on the arm you’re leaning at before slowly opening your eyes. With heavy lids, you plant your hand on the cushion and forcefully prop yourself up. Yet when you manage to sit up, you rest your head on your shoulder and close your eyes again.
“2 minutes,” you mumble sleepily.
He watches you fight the drowsiness that’s completely settled in. Instead of complaining when you still haven’t snapped out of it, he moves to sit beside you. He puts a gentle hand on the side of your head and softly tugs you to lean on his shoulder.
The moment your temple touches his shoulder, you bolt right up. His unexpected action has sucked the sleepiness out of you for a moment as you begin to put your guard up.
“I’m up. I’m up,” you announce in an alert manner as you scoot away from him. You frantically rub your eyes to get them to open.
So he isn’t imagining it: what he said a while ago got to you. Else, you wouldn’t have moved away like you’re allergic to his touch. You had been unusually quiet after he lashed out at you, but can you blame him for doing so? You’re basically saying that it’s okay to make out when it’s just you two. It’s fucking ridiculous. You should be thinking about how to avoid the situation from happening again, not succumb to it.
So why does he feel like a dick for calling you a moron? And why is he upset now that you’re actually doing what he wants you to do? Also, how the fuck are you so charming even when you’re half asleep before him?
“Are you done with yer stuff?” you slur as you crack your neck side to side.
“Yeah. But you should go home already.”
You blink several times as you check the wall clock across the room for the time. “Okay. Just e-mail it to me so I can do it before our next meeting.”
“No. Focus on your other shit then continue it when we meet next time,” he sternly says.
“We’re already behind schedule, Tsukishima. Just send it to me,” you insist despite how faint your voice is.
“I said no.” He doesn’t dislike you enough to make you overwork yourself to death. 
You close your eyes again and shake your head in surrender. “Fine. I’m too tired to argue further.”
Just when you’re about to stand up, he grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes open up as you peer at him with confusion.
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he utters with his best attempt to sound unbothered. 
Your brows crumple up from his statement that came out of nowhere. He just hopes that your fatigued self figures out what he’s referring to because he doesn’t want to elaborate on it. 
Sure enough, a palpable glint of understanding shows in your face when your mouth opens to form a silent “ah.”
“That, huh?” You respond just as vaguely as he had been. “Don’t worry about it,” you come up with a thrifty smile as you return your gaze to him.
“You were right anyways. It is a moronic idea. I just thought that maybe if we just let it ride out, it’ll pass. But meh. I just misread it and thought you enjoyed it as much as I do,” you explain in a nonchalant manner despite the confession that came along with it in the end.
Then, you giggle disorientedly. “You can rest easy now, Tsukishima. These disgusting lips of mine won’t come anywhere near you again, mkay?” 
He should be relieved, rejoicing even, that he’s pushed you away enough to keep your distance from him.
Yet what you said is gnawing at him for he didn’t say that. He never said your lips are disgusting.
Admittedly, he regrets kissing you on both occasions that it happened, but he’s never thought of it as disgusting.
Infuriating, yes, but not disgusting. 
“I’ll go fix my stuff now,” you say.
“They’re not disgusting,” he utters before you get off the couch. 
You look at him with vacant eyes that have begun to droop heavily again as a yawn comes out of you. You cover your mouth with your hands then lazily drop them to your lap afterwards.
You open your eyes and try to focus your sight again.
“Sorry, I conked out for like three seconds. Did you say something?” 
On a regular day, he’d think that you’re messing with him so he’ll repeat what he said. But the exhaustion still evident on your face convinces him that you really didn’t hear what he said. 
“Yeah,” he responds flatly before he leans closer to your face. He tilts his head a bit to the side and gently captures the warm softness of your lips.
The kiss lacks the heated intensity the previous two had. It is just one tender nip where he lingers just a tad bit longer to savor the taste of coffee mixed with your own.
He slowly withdraws from you but remains only an inch away that he still feels your breath mingling with his. 
“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” he repeats for you to hear this time.
Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist
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absoluteindulgence · 4 years
Text
AFK (Away From Keyboard)
A/N: My contribution to September’s first Freaky Friday (18+). New icon, who dis? I worked non-stop on this story; hopefully, y’all like it!
Pairings: Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Quarantine Blues
Word Count: 3.4K
Quarantine hasn't been easy on you. You lost your job due to your line of work not being considered 'essential.' Although bummed about it, because it was a means to an end, you remembered the times you complained about the work and how some other workers didn't treat you fairly.  But the realization of being home with your fiance, Mirio, had sparked comfort. Until you found out, he still had to work.
The pain of having to stay home alone while your sunny beau worked 24-Hour shifts every other day, saving lives as he remained one of the most reliable Firemen in Japan. You felt the sadness and loneliness from him not being home for so long. And most days, you stayed in bed, too sad to move around the empty home.
With time, you habitually set a routine, eat, sleep, check social media, then back to sleep. Until you came across a group chat accepting all and any fans of a game you fancied, it had been some time since you played, not having the energy to drag your ass out of the plush, king-size bed. You pondered whether to grab your laptop from your dusty work bag in the corner of your bedroom. Or to make the trip to your living room with your HQ computer.
Of course, you went for the latter. Throwing on your robe, walking to the living room seemed like a long trip, but sitting at the master computer made your nerves settle. Starting up the machine, you fiddle with your phone chatting with your new-found internet friends. After logging in, the rest was history.
You spent so much time online that the days where Mirio was home and not tired that you were too busy gaming to stop—practically ignoring him as he came within close contact of your hunched over body. You became a complete zombie to your favorite game that no longer became your hobby but now your never-ending job.
You clocked in and out, only being away from the screen to rest and use the bathroom. It became a problem that even Mirio could see; he didn't want to press the issue so harshly since he knew how the long hours had affected you, but seeing how less attention he got when home for more than 8-hours became troublesome.
Tonight, Mirio came home earlier than expected, his high energy shone throughout the home, yet you didn't flinch from your spot. Too focused on the glowing screen, to look his direction as he creeps up onto your left side with a delicate, yet tender kiss to your temple.
"Good evening, my love, have you eaten?" His bouncy, upbeat voice knocks you out of your trance.
You look up at him with low energy, replying with a mumble, "No."
"That's too bad, but no worries, I'm gonna order some food. Do you know what you want?" He walks away, fiddling with his phone, taking off his work uniform simultaneously.
You shrug with a monotone groan, your new way of saying that you have no preference. In case Mirio can't hear you, you utter louder, "I don't care."
"Okay, Babe, well, I guess I'll get your usual favorite." His grin is apparent when he speaks, playing off not getting acknowledged the way you used to before finding your obsessed hobby turned job.
You nod without notice and clack away at your keyboard, enamored in the chatroom. You occasionally smile while grabbing for your gaming controller; you're ready to start up another game as your group chat invites you. Happily obliging them, you've been added to the team and play a couple of rounds.
So focused on the game, you didn't hear your blond beau answer the door and walk to the kitchen as he carried two substantial brown paper bags with handles. He deftly set the bags onto the island counter, pulling out each takeout container with the same enthusiasm.
"Hey, Babe, dinner's here!" Your Sunshine called out to you from the kitchen.
Glued to your computer screen, you stammer, "O-okay, Babe, I'm coming."
Lying through your teeth, you sit unfazed by the world around you and only concentrate on what's in front of you. It is a crucial time as you're close to completing the umpteenth goal, your posture struggling as you slouch near the monitor to see better.
The site is genuinely unbecoming and catches Mirio's eye; he comes from behind, hugging you while grabbing onto your wrists. The sudden warmth shocks you but doesn't stop your fingers from shifting. A huff leaves Mirio's breath, tickling your neck's nape as he moves closer to its left side. His large hands grip your controller, nearly covering yours. It's vexatious, to say the least, your quest is near completion with an unbeatable high score.
Even with his hands on yours, you still maneuver the controller, eager to finish. No longer connected to your headset, you feel the sunny man nuzzle his nose close to your ear. A sensitive, weak spot that he's using as a means of leverage. Goosebumps emerge from your neck to your chest down to your arms as you try your best to overlook the familiar sensation.
A slightly annoying groan buzzes out his throat as you feign his attempts to distract you. He applies the slightest pressure to your hands, where you're no longer in control of your joypad movements.
"Since you're not ready to eat yet, I'd thought I'd help you instead." He smiled warmly, yet you felt on edge. "Don't worry, Babe, I got this!"
As you slightly turned to look at him, he portrayed a game face. He seemed confident to beat your current quest, his hands moved as if he knew what to do, so you relaxed. Turning back to the monitor, you watched in the marvel of his hidden gamer skills; he maneuvered so flawlessly that you were shocked. Until he died, on your last life, sending your game character to the loading screen.
"Mirio, what the hell?" You squeal in annoyance, louder than expected. "That was my last life!"
He musters out a roar of laughter that only infuriates you further as you cross your arms with a huff. "Aw baby, I'm sorry. I thought I had it, but it turns out I didn't know the controls that well."
He cuddles you close to his warm chest, still resisting his advances, he snuggles you tighter than his original bear hug. You try to wiggle your way out of his loveable grip as he chuckles at your efforts. He pulls you away from the master computer, using the handles on the rolling game chair you bought together one weekend. 
He turns the chair around to survey your irritated, flustered face. "Hey, don't be mad. I just wanted to enjoy the game just like you. I see how enthralled you've been and wanted to see what the hype was about."
You're silent with a bratty pout on your lips, which he doesn't take seriously and plants a brief, loving kiss onto your forehead. He beams as he gets a better look at you: You grabbed one of his firemen in training sweatshirts earlier that day after taking a shower.
"I see that my Sunshine couldn't help but to represent me while I'm away at work." A sneaky grin stretched across his scruffy, blond stubble.
"If I told you I grabbed anything just to get closer to playing my game, would you believe me?"
"No, I wouldn't," He chuckled, "I know how much you miss me when I'm away."
His stare was a tad intense after finishing his reasoning, catching you off guard. Your antics of irritation cracked as you dropped your arms and rested your hands onto your thighs. You couldn't crack a smile; all the days blurred into one as you couldn't fathom being alone at home. That loneliness you ran away from came back to spill all of your secrets.
"You're right." Little droplets of water left your eyes, "I've missed you so much. I know that you're busy saving the world one fire at a time, but since this Quarantine, I've wished for us to be together, not that I wanted you to lose your job. I just wanted us to spend more time."
"I've been suffering in silence, not knowing what to say to you as you asked me if I was okay. I thought I could get better all by myself, and yet nothing was enough." You were sobbing between words, no longer able to keep your composure. "I finally dragged myself out of bed, trying to get comfortable. And I got carried away."
You wiped your eyes of tears, focusing on your breathing as much as possible. Trying not to draw out a panic attack, you felt a warmth come from all over. Mirio held you close to him, undistracted by you sitting in the chair. He exhaled heavily, kissing the side of your face with regard.
"I'm sorry that you held on to all that pain, Sunshine. It was never my intent to make you feel alone." He held onto you tighter, "There's not a minute, no, a second that passes by, that I don't think about you. "
The warmth from his burly arms and chest eased your heart, feeling safe and wanted. Your soon-to-be husband readjusted his hands to lift you out of the gaming chair. With a gentle grip, you were in his arms, cradled close to his chest. The blond looked down at you with a passionate smile, producing your heart to skip a beat. Mirio carried you bridal style until entering the bedroom you shared, considerately laying you down onto the bed. With so much space on the mattress, you wondered why you were the only one laying on it. Glancing upon your love near the footboard, you recognized his exact mood.
"Please, let me show you how much I've missed you." He slowly unbuckled his pants, "I've had so many thoughts about what I wanted to do to you."
His look went from lighthearted to a serene, sensual gaze. It's as if laying you on the bed changed his demeanor, creating a severely lustful tone to the air. Laying on the mattress, you felt yourself go into heat, just staring back at the blond beau. His face colored an incredible hue of pink as he pulled off his shirt, too impatient to keep it on any longer.
You stare in awe as the man of your dreams crawls on top of you. Bunching up the sweatshirt, he pushes the fabric up above your breasts set to litter them and your lips with fleeting kisses, prolonging your divine flesh cavern. Your peaks are between his callous hands as his nose pokes at your abdomen, inhaling their essential fragrance. You giggle under your breath at his prickly stubble tickling your skin.
"I've missed your pillows so much, Sunshine." He muffles, erupting laughter out of you. "Yeah, get all your giggles out now, Baby. Because in a moment, I'm gonna make you holler."
Kisses trace down your body, along your hips; although his kisses feel like a rush, they're thorough in savoring every part his lips touch and occasionally sticking his tongue out to lick the bare sections of your stomach. A gasp gets caught in your throat, and Mirio groans in response. It's evident; your body's pleasure gets handled like a refined, care package.
Reaching the waistband of your generic bottoms, he slid them off with little consideration of the fabric. No protest whatsoever as to his tug at your dainty boyshorts hastened another groan to his lips. His eyes glimmered, looking at your panties, admiring the soft, satin-like material popping out so lovely onto your skin tone.
"It's like you wore all this to taunt me, Sunshine." He chuckled under his breath, "Now you're in for it."
A hastily gentle pull to your panties made for a head-turning transformation, looking at Mirio now between your legs with his slippery, wet tongue on your pink pearl. Your thighs clamped shut onto his head as he feverishly licked at you with no hesitation as if the goal to make you cum was more important than breathing.
Your short breaths turned into loud gasps and moans, echoing the room with a ringing back into your ears. Your audio sent shockwaves through Mirio, pushing him to keep going and not stop until you made a mess around his mouth. Quick licks to your clit hardened your core so tightly you felt your stomach would resemble your blond hero's abs.
"You taste, so divine, my love."
Each word between each lick set out to destroy the sanity within you. The overstimulation drives you over the edge into massive wails as you try to push Mirio's head from between your legs. His grip moves from your hips to your thighs firmly. The warmth of his palms settles your need to keep him from helping you reach paradise.
That doesn't stop the sweat from dripping off your body or your bud from pulsing between his soft, thin lips. Reaching your peak, you clench onto his hair, moaning out his name, "M-mirio!"
Calling out to him made his tongue go into turbo mode. And with no warning, united two fingers into your slippery, silk igloo. A luxurious howl left your lips as you focused on your breathing, no longer holding onto his hair, but your breasts. Pinching at your nipples caused Mirio to look at you with concupiscence. His thick fingers were less than forgiving as you contracted around them and squirmed.
The tension building within your core couldn't manage the pumps advancing in you or that relentless tongue belonging to your sunny beau. Ready to burst, you cry out, "I need to cum!"
Nothing could prepare you for the orgasm you had: with eyes clenched closed and legs spread wide, hands clenched to the bedsheets, you blasted a grand amount of squirt infused cum out of your body.
Mirio's eyes widen as he pulls back to flick your clit back and forth using his right hand, spraying your love juice all over the sheets. Pushing out your last robust grunt before your legs collapse. Your breath hitches in your throat as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Damn, Sunshine, that was amazing." Mirio sits up, looking down at your worn-out body. His attraction for you gets the best of him as he puts his fingers in his mouth while keeping eye contact, "You even taste amazing too."
An arousing shockwave stings through your body as you look back into his beautiful, cerulean eyes. With little energy, you roll your index finger for him to come closer to you. He leaps at the opportunity, mushing his still wet face onto your sweaty one, scattering kisses over your lips and neck. He positions your legs for his love rod to glide into your aching junction in the moment's heat.
"Are you ready, Beauti-"
"-Yes, Mirio, don't make me wait any longer."
Your seductive face said all that your muscular fiance needed to hear. He slid his charmer in painfully slow, observing your hungry gaze, urging him to get harder and bottom you out immediately. Grunting in unison, came right after as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You kissed along his exposed neck, making light nibbles along his right side.
"F-Fuck."
His hips pivot into you, and a light moan fled your mouth as you prepped for his roughhousing. Leniency out the window as the sloshing from your essence screamed 'keep going!' to your blond hunk. So he obliged you: Acting as a home decorator, rearranging your furniture with each thrust. Your brows furrowed from the sensual pressure placed inside as you looked back into his eyes; the smirk on his equally sweaty face was too smug. Your face was always a dead giveaway to how much you enjoyed him; these nights were no different.
"Tell me how much you love when I'm deep inside you, Baby."
"Don't make me say it, Mir-, I'm a-already showing you." The heat was going straight to your head as he put you on the spot. If you could hide your face, you would.
"Oh no, my Sunshine. You don't get to avoid this." He raised his body off your frame, lifted one of your legs to sit up straight on his bulky chest, grinding into your junction with a rapid, rugged motion.
All words escaped you; keeping up the pace was all too hard as he rolled his hips into you, ruthless and playful all at once. The grip on your leg firm with each pump is very calculated and delicate. licking his lips, he asked, "Will you admit it now?"
Tucking in your lips, you shake your head in detest. It was unbelievable, and Mirio knew it; his chuckle echoed through the bedroom, "Okay."
Positioning your legs to point west from his Adonis belt, he maneuvered himself to stay connected to your golden arches. His last straw and ultimate trump card, fucking you from the side as he smiled from above you. The position relative to hitting it from the back, but with enough spine power, you can see your firemen in action. The clutch to your waist always took you for a ride, a prime example of your fiance's strength and control.
Soaked was an understatement as your muffled whines turned into hoarse wails of satisfaction. Just when you thought you lost your voice after the lip service, your ass bouncing off Mirio's skin flute created an orchestrated symphony of lovemaking reverberating through the house. Your neighbors would have to understand; there's no holding in how incredible this sexual bond is.
"I concede, Baby." While holding onto his forearm, you passionately gawk, "You feel so good deep inside of me!"
Self-satisfied, his movement accelerated, "That's what I like to hear, Sunshine."
The harmony of skin slapping, your juicy cream canal is sloshing against his cock, the various moans and grunts you're exchanging, setting you on edge. His eyes have a deep blue gaze, leaking of an overly seductive spirit.
"Fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close. Tell me how bad you want me to pound your pretty pussy, and I will."
"Mirio, please," You grab onto one of his hands, freeing them from the grip on your thigh and placing his thumb into your mouth while sucking it, "Put my fire out."
Ironically igniting him with a trump card of your own, his pace heightened past your comprehension. Once again, your coil wound up, becoming tighter with each thrust, unbearable to endure for another moment and remaining to suck Mirio's thumb in hopes of feeling sweet deserved deliverance. The pounds from Mirio's powerful thighs were likening heavily wooded paddles sure to leave a mark.
A charge of sexual energy swelled between you two as your bodies went into a complete frenzy. The hand on your thigh moved up onto your waist with more intensity placed to your backside and your core getting the brunt of it all. Feeling Mirio expand and twitch inside indicated how close he was, and your coil had just snapped. Mirio pulls out of you, shooting his load all over your ass and thighs.
The warm puddle of white gold spills over to the front of your leg, trickling down your thighs; you watch as your fiance readjusts himself, "Shit, that was a lot. Let me get a cloth."
Less gracefully, he rolls off the king-sized bed disappearing out the room and returning with a stack of baby wipes. The cleanup is gentle and thorough as you smile at him, still savoring your orgasm. He throws them away into a trash bin near his nightstand, noting to flush them later. He crawls behind you, cradling your naked body close to his. You're melting within his embrace, feeling complete comfort.
"You know, Babe," He rubs your thigh soothingly as you quietly hum, "You didn't tell your teammates what happened after you died."
"Well, I can tell them tomorrow, no big deal."
"Well, you're right, but what if I told you, you weren't on mute?"
Your eyes shot open, "What?"
"I'm kidding, Babe! You unplugged your headset, remember?"
"Mirio, my heart just dropped to my ass, please don't scare me like that."
His familiar laugh vibrated through the room, "Sorry, Babe, I couldn't help myself! Are you ready to eat now? We've worked up quite the appetite."
He lazily winked, you giggled and nodded, "I hope you got my favorite!"
"So you heard, nothing I said when I got home, huh?"
"I didn't say that." You try to hide your face, resulting in Mirio tickling you into admitting it.
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gureishi · 3 years
Text
can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland
A day late this week, but here is chapter 3! From now on, expect updates every Sunday :) This chapter is SFW. Again, a reminder: this is a Choi sandwich fic, so please be cautious/skip this one if this pairing isn’t your cup of tea <3 
Pairing: Saeran X Reader X Saeyoung
Rating: E; Chapter rating: T
chapter three
You never got the chance to talk to Saeyoung the next day, because he had, it seemed, stopped speaking to you.
It took a few hours for you to notice. You woke late, having slept restlessly in spite of your exhausted mind. You’d woken too frequently to remember your dreams, but flashes stuck with you: sideways glances and dizzy touches. Saeyoung’s absence wasn’t surprising, at first: you didn’t particularly expect to see him while you made your coffee or sat at the little table by the window sipping it, Saeran working quietly on his laptop beside you. This little morning ritual was usually for just the two of you; in the daytime, it was normal for Saeyoung to be hidden away—in his office, or in the garage, or passed out after staying up till sunrise.
Afterwards, you followed Saeran outside, perching on an overturned bucket to watch him work in the little garden he was starting to plant behind the bunker. You didn’t expect to see Saeyoung out here, either—he was (and there was no better way to put it, you thought) an indoor cat. You rested your face in your hands, watching quietly as Saeran worked. Since moving back into the bunker, he’d made three trips into town already, browsing various plant nurseries, accumulating an assortment of plants and seeds—all things that were low maintenance and hardy, because Saeran would never put something in the ground that would die without constant attention. Not when he wasn’t sure how long you’d be living here.
He was on his hands and knees in the dirt, carefully carving out a little line of earth. You’d seen people garden standing up, using long-handled tools to dig and weed and turn the earth; Saeran never did it that way. He liked to be inside the garden, as close to the plants’ roots as he could be. It was the way he heard their voices best.
“What are those?” you asked, peeking at the seed packet in his hand. He turned to you and—oh, he’s radiant, you thought: his cheeks were sun-warmed, there was dirt on the tip of his nose, and his hair practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight. He was beautiful to you in the morning, half-asleep as you dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead; beautiful to you in the evening, nudging you with his hip as he cut up vegetables beside you in the kitchen; but he was most beautiful like this, you thought: sitting amongst his neat little rows of newly-planted seeds. This was the way you always pictured him in your mind’s eye: a quiet smile, surrounded by greenery.
“They’re gentians,” he said, eyes glowing with pride as he held out the seeds for you to see. “They’re extremely strong. They’ll grow under almost any conditions.”
You peered at the delicate drawing on the packet. They didn’t look hardy to you—in the picture, they looked soft and fragile. But you’d long learned that appearances meant nothing at all about fragility and strength.
“I love them,” you told him. You really did. “I hope we get to see them bloom.”
Saeran shook a few of the seeds into his palm; he pressed them into the earth with extreme care.
“We will, eventually,” he said softly. “If not this year, then in the future.”
You nodded slowly. No one had brought up, yet, what would happen next. For now, you lived here; your poor, overwrought mind couldn’t even fathom thinking more than a few hours ahead.
But the question hung in the air: where will we go?
And there was another question, perhaps more pressing; it came to you, against your will, making your head ache.
And when we do leave here, what about Saeyoung?
“You haven’t seen Saeyoung today, have you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level. There was no need to worry Saeran unnecessarily; it was possible, you thought, likely even, that he’d been underneath one of his cars all day, entirely unaware of the passage of time. It was possible that the strange feelings that had been slowly coalescing in your body, gradually solidifying into concrete thoughts, were actually baseless, nothing but ephemeral dreams.
Saeran hummed thoughtfully.
“No,” he said; your stomach turned. “No, I haven’t.”
You tapped one leg restlessly, chewing your lip. Saeran peered up at you, the delicate seeds cupped in his palm.
“Did you want to look for him?” he asked, and if there was any suspicion behind that soft smile, it was undetectable. Often, Saeran was wide open for you: emotions laid bare, exposed for your perusal. But occasionally he was inscrutable; his light green eyes, made brighter by the afternoon sun, gave away nothing.
You sighed heavily, knowing there was only one way to assuage the anxiety coiling in your chest.
“I guess I do,” you said. Saeran’s expression was enigmatic. You wondered—and not for the first time—how much he saw, how much he understood.
“Let me know if you find him,” Saeran said. His eyes were on the earth again, his focus impeccable; his nimble fingers worked at the soil, burying his seeds by hand. You took a deep breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, and turned back to the bunker, which loomed almost prison-like behind you. There was nothing else for it—at the very least, you needed to see him. At best, you needed to ask him…
Ask him…
Ask him what?
You took the steps two at a time; now that you’d decided, you were suddenly impatient. You felt strongly that it would be imprudent to call his name; instead, you kicked off your shoes by the back door, padding down the long hallway. 
Outside, everything was springtime: bright and airy and scented like rose petals. Inside, the air felt stale: there was a constant hum from the fans that cooled the computers, and the temperature was regulated and always just slightly too cold.
He was in none of the common areas, but that was to be expected. His bedroom door was open; hesitantly, you peered inside, but it was dark. The bed looked—just as it had when you’d first found the place—untouched.
At the very end of the hall—as far as possible from the rest of the home, which you supposed he’d done on purpose—was his office. You’d been in here often when Saeyoung had been missing; Saeran had unabashedly gone through files and programs you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and you’d sat on the hard little couch in the corner, chewing your fingernails and waiting for a miracle.
Since Saeyoung had returned, you’d barely set foot in this room. It felt different, with him here. It felt off-limits.
You knocked on the door.
You knew you’d found him right away: there was the sound of a rolling chair shifting, a few keys clicking. You waited, hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised. Was he going to ignore you?
“Yeah?” he called, and at the sound of his voice your stomach did a funny little flip. Oh no, you thought. What is happening to me?
“It’s me,” you said, perhaps unnecessarily. Suddenly, your tongue felt too big, like you couldn’t quite remember how you normally fit it in your mouth. Your palms were sweaty.
There was a prolonged pause and a part of you wanted to turn tail and run: run back to the beautiful, warm outdoors, and your beautiful, warm boyfriend in his beautiful, warm garden. You stood firm; hands balled into fists, nails leaving little half-moon shapes in your palms.
“Sorry,” he said finally. There was a different tone to his voice now, neither playful nor teasing nor gentle. He sounded angry. “I’m busy right now.”
“Oh…”
You took a step back. There was no reason to bother him if he was busy, of course; after all, there was nothing in particular you’d needed to say. But something about the way he spoke to you shook you to your core. It was as if you were a stranger.
“I’ll leave you alone, then,” you said. You retreated slowly, not even sure if he’d heard you; when you were halfway down the hall—and you couldn’t explain why you did this—you started to run.
It was only when you were at the back door, stuffing your feet into your shoes with a ferocity that took you somewhat by surprise, that you realized: busy with what?
You turned, reaching for the doorknob—only to come face-to-face with Saeran, who’d just opened the screen door. He took in your odd posture: eyes wide, one shoe on. You must’ve looked so distressed, you thought: frozen in place, full of feelings.
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking your face in one dirt-streaked hand. You didn’t mind—Saeran was earth and rain and wind. He could be soaked and muddy and desolate and you’d still wrap him in your arms.
“I…” you took a steadying breath, not sure how to answer him. Were you okay? His eyes were soft and you felt better, all of a sudden, safer, with his gentle, dirty fingers on your cheek. “Yeah,” you said, somewhat truthfully. “He’s, uh…busy.”
Saeran kissed your cheek, letting his fingers fall from your cheek (you missed them immediately). He slipped off his shoes, lined them up by the door, set his shovel in the little basket of gardening tools. The back of the house was gradually becoming his: neat rows of shoes and organized tools. It was every bit as tidy as Saeyoung’s office was disorderly.
“Busy with what?” he asked. 
Good question, you thought. 
As he slipped past you to the little half-bathroom by the back door, he grazed your waist with one hand—a phantom touch, barely there, but enough to soothe the inexplicable fears that had begun building in that dark hallway, outside Saeyoung’s office door.
“I’m not sure,” you told him—this time, completely truthfully. You followed him, leaning against the doorframe of the small, industrial bathroom, waiting as he scrubbed his hands. In this, like everything, he was meticulous: he got soap between all his fingers, carefully rubbed away every last bit of dirt. Something about the way the steam illuminated his fingers—thin, agile, prominent—enthralled you and made you feel hot and fidgety. 
“I can’t think of anything in particular he’d be working on,” Saeran said thoughtfully. He turned off the water, dried his hands with one of the towels you’d bought on a recent expedition into town. Saeyoung’s house, previously, had had none of these things—no soap dispensers or bath mats or hand towels. If you hadn’t known better, you’d never have thought anyone was living here at all.
“Oh,” said Saeran; and suddenly, he was in front of you again, startlingly close, quick and quiet as ever. His lips curved upward in a playful little smile, and you found your eyes lingering on them—delicate, impossibly pink. “There’s dirt on your cheek.”
Coyly, tongue poking out between those enchanting lips, he leaned in. He brought his thumb to your cheek—warm and a little rough—and something about the way he rubbed your face clean with his fingertip stirred up the mess of emotions swirling inside you.
He seemed focused, intent on his task, but you didn’t miss the pink dusted across his cheeks, the way his breath quickened—also, you were pretty sure there was no more dirt on your face. Almost cheek-to-cheek with you, he shifted his gaze; you were hit all at once by the full force of those intense green eyes and you felt your knees go weak.
“Saeran.”
Oh, he was baiting you—he held two fingers to your cheek, waiting for your next move.
And it all whirled together in a delicious, complicated, colorful mess in your mind: Saeran’s rough finger and the dirt on your cheek and the careful way he washed his hands and Saeyoung’s angry voice and the warm sun and the cold air in the hall and the way Saeyoung’s eyelashes would have felt against your face if you’d just leaned in a little closer last night and Saeran’s cool body against yours in bed. And then your mind went blank.
Roughly, clumsily, you threw your arms around Saeran’s neck and kissed him, pulling his body flush against yours with a force that took you both by surprise. You parted your lips, panting into his mouth, and his lithe tongue swiped across your bottom lip. You deepened the kiss, molding yourself to him; you felt lightheaded and, somehow, sure that his lips were the only thing tying you down to the earth.
As if sensing this, his hands came to your waist, steadying you; at the same time, you felt his fingers digging in, gripping a little too hard. Experimentally, you pressed against him , wiggling your hips; without breaking the kiss, he growled, low in his throat, and you felt victorious. Yes, he needed you.
Suddenly, you were moving; he’d broken the kiss and was staring down at you, eyes searing, and then he was walking you back, back, till you were pressed up against the doorframe. It was study behind you, supporting you; he brushed his lips, feather light, against your jaw, and your legs went numb.
And then his lips were on yours again, sugary sweet, and you were grabbing at his shirt, bunching it in your fingers. He pressed you harder into the doorframe, kissing you with the hunger of the lost, lonely boy that still lived inside him.
Your head was full of him; his hand drifted to your hip, to your thigh, and you pushed back against him, making him gasp; he pulled back and his eyes were begging you to touch him more and—
and—
—and there was a sound in the distance—a cough, a breath—that startled you out of the trance where everything was Saeran and Saeran’s hands and Saeran’s lips. Slowly, hands on his chest, you turned toward the sound. 
Oh.
Saeyoung was there: frozen in place at the far end of the hall, one hand still on the doorknob to his office. The world narrowed, in that moment, to just three things: you felt Saeran’s hands, one gripping your waist, one positioned dangerously on your inner thigh; you felt the hard wood frame against your back; and you saw Saeyoung’s face, eyes wide, wild, mouth slightly open. He was pale, like he’s just seen a ghost.
But he hadn’t seen a ghost. He’d seen this; and you only realized, then, just how it must look: Saeran’s hand on your thigh, parting your legs; your faces: pink cheeks, bright eyes.
You couldn’t quite put the expression you saw on Saeyoung’s face into words. Afraid, you thought. Exhilarated. Surprised. Needy. Miserable.
“Saeyoung…”
You dropped your hands; Saeran shifted beside you—and Saeyoung was gone. With the swiftness you were still not quite used to, he disappeared around the corner. You heard the door to the garage slamming: open and shut.
For a moment, neither you nor Saeran said anything. You could feel his eyes on your face, and you turned to him. He licked his lips, coughed softly. You put a hand to his face—it was hot.
“Are you okay?” you asked, always sensitive to his subtle shifts in temperature, always searching—perhaps needlessly—for any sign that he was feeling sick. A part of your heart still didn’t believe that he would tell you.
“I am,” he said, a hand on his chest. He was peering down the darkened hallway now as if the phantom of his brother was still standing there and would tell him what on earth was going on. “I’m not sure what just…” He trailed off. You took his hand: hot face, cool hands, as always.
“I think I should…go after him,” you said. You felt such a strange mixture of dread and longing.
Saeran nodded slowly. “You understand him better than I do,” he said.
You squeezed his hand. “There are things the two of you understand that I never will,” you told him. You weren’t talking about computers are programming languages—there were other things, subtle, vulnerable, frightening things, that only the two of them knew. Saeran pressed his lips to your forehead, just beside your eyebrow. “But I think, in this case…”
“Exactly.” There was a moment, then, when his green eyes flashed and you could see the pieces falling together in his brilliant mind. Then he turned from you and the moment passed.
Pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, you left him, making your way down the long hall. You pried open the door—you hadn’t heard a car engine, so Saeyoung was still somewhere in the garage. You tiptoed outside, though your feet still sounded so loud on the cold, concrete floor. You didn’t want to startle him.
Not that I could sneak up on him even if I tried.
He wasn’t hard to find: he was leaning against the hood of one of his cars, a strange little silver one, and his face was in his hands. You supposed he felt safe here, the way Saeran did in his garden. They were so similar in this way, you thought—retreating to the places that made them comfortable when the people around them made them afraid.
“Saeyoung,” you said softly. He didn’t move; of course he already knew you were there. “I…”
You what?
Now that you had him here, in front of you, you found you had nothing at all to say. And you were good with your words—your words had gotten you here, in the first place, to this magical reality where, against all odds, the people you loved were safe.
And yet…
Here, in the cold, musty-smelling garage, with Saeyoung in front of you—still, silent, face hidden—you had no words at all.
“Go back inside,” he said, sounding as though he had armed himself against you—you heard a battalion in his voice.
“I want to talk to you,” you said. This much you knew was true.
“But I don’t want to talk to you,” he answered. He dropped his hands from his face then; his glasses were pushed haphazardly up on top of his head. Without them, his eyes blazed—the anger you saw there frightened you.
But you’d been here before, borne the brunt of the unfounded anger of someone you cared about. Then, too, it was because he was so tormented by the way you made him feel.
You took a careful step toward Saeyoung; he bristled and you almost expected him to growl, warding you away like a wild animal.
“Saeyoung, please…” His shoulders were hunched; there were shadows under his eyes, more evident without his glasses. You wondered if his dreams had been like yours: frantic, yearning.
For a moment, you thought you had him—his eyes softened a little as you drew near; he leaned forward, almost as though he hoped you would hold him. Oh, but you wanted to.
You paused. He paused. A moment passed where you were certain that you could reach for him and he would let you, would fall into your arms and melt with you. And then the moment was gone.
Saeyoung crossed his arms; all the light left his eyes.
“I don’t think I should stay here,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m going to leave,” he repeated, sounding almost surprised, as though he was deciding it in that very moment. You felt that he was opening up your chest with those long fingers, reaching inside and taking hold of your heart.
“You can’t,” you said, too loud, and he glanced up at you, his eyes hard. You wanted to take that stupid, warm, hard, beautiful face in both your hands and…
And what?
And kiss him till he was breathless, till his eyes clouded over and he forgot who he was.
That stubborn little voice in your head, loud and almost corporeal now, cheered. But your heart was falling to pieces.
“I thought I would be able to do it,” he said—quieter, as if he wasn’t quite sure he wanted you to hear. “Living here with you. But I was wrong.”
“I…” You couldn’t find the right words. I thought I would be able to do it, he’d said—so he’d known, all along, that it would be difficult for him. You clenched your hands, squeezing them together till they hurt—an old habit.
And then he was moving, taking advantage of your moment of weakness. He was opening the car door, sliding in. His expression was unreadable. He started the engine.
“Where are you…”
“I’m just going for a drive,” he said. Cold voice, cold eyes.
“You’ll be back, right?” you said. Your hands hurt.
He paused and you were afraid he was going to say no, never, but instead he pulled out his phone, used it to open the garage door. He was backing out already, one arm thrown over the passenger seat (how you wished you were that stupid little leather seat), when he finally answered you.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be back. But…” But. “But I’ll leave for real, as soon as I can.”
The engine hummed softly and he was pulling down the driveway, looking anywhere but at your face. And he was driving away, fading away, and you said his name but he didn’t hear, or pretended not to. He was drifting, turning…gone.
He was gone.
Your legs were weak. Your heart was weak.
You let yourself sink to the ground, tucking your knees to your chest, sitting on the cold concrete.
And, alone in the big, empty garage, your mind formed the meaningless shapes and colors and sounds and fears into a concrete thought. At last. As though you’d known all along.
I love him, you thought, feeling so small here in the dark, surrounded by his cars and his tools and his scent and the memory of his cold, sad eyes. I love him, don’t I?
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years
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Flawless (4)
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masterlist. 
Content Warning: swearing, violence, sex, PTSD
Short update this week! I just started a new semester, and I’m taking a maximum credit load, so it’s very possible that a) there won’t be an update next weekend b) updates will be every other weekend instead of every weekend for a while. We’ll see how it goes. Thank you so much for all your love and support!
*****
Riley woke to Kalei’s lips on the back of her neck. “Good morning,” she hummed. 
“Morning, gorgeous.” Kalei’s hands explored Riley’s body as he spooned her, slowly waking her nerves with each touch. Eventually touching turned to kissing, kissing to making out, and making out to bodies writhing between the sheets and loud moans echoing throughout the apartment. 
Riley couldn’t remember the last time she had a one night stand this good. Maybe never. 
When they finally parted, Riley pulled on a black silk robe and headed to the kitchen to make coffee for them both while Kalei showered. 
She nearly had a heart attack when she realized she wasn’t alone. Desi sat on one of the barstools looking pissed as hell, and Riley instantly regretted ever giving that woman a key. “How long have you been here?” she demanded. 
“Too long.” 
“Pervert.” Riley turned her back on her unwelcome guest and resumed her coffee mission. 
“I take it you had fun last night,” Desi said coolly. “Considering you brought it home with you.” 
“I did.” Riley smirked. “Coffee?” Desi shook her head. 
Before she could say anything else, Riley’s fun entered the kitchen. “Oh,” Kalei said, noticing Desi. “Am I interrupting something?” 
“Nope,” Riley said sweetly at the same time Desi growled, “Yes.” 
Kalei’s gaze flicked between the two women, clearly confused about where to go from here. “Uhh—” 
“Why don’t you give us a minute.” Desi gave him an icy smile. 
Riley whirled on her friend, glaring. “You don’t tell him what to do. He is my guest. You, on the other hand, are not.” 
Hands raised in surrender, Kalei backed off anyway, stuttering, “I’m gonna go.” He made a beeline for the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 
“You didn’t have to be so rude.”  
“You know why I’m here?” Desi snapped. 
Riley sighed, crossing her arms. “Why?” 
“Because I got home from work at three in the morning and found Nikki in my bed, with my girlfriend. And then I got in trouble for waking them up because apparently, Nikki had just calmed down from her rage fit because you ditched everyone during your little girls’ night!” 
Taking a sip of her coffee to hide her annoyance, Riley replied, “Nikki literally watched me buy a new box of condoms when we went shopping the other day. She shouldn’t be surprised.” 
Desi rolled her eyes. “She’s not mad about you hooking up with some guy, you idiot. She’s mad because you were supposed to be showing the new girl the ropes and then you just left. I suggest you put on your big girl pants and apologize before Nikki decides to replace you.” 
“She can’t.” Riley leaned back against the counter. “The Five Eyes are my team.” 
Desi raised an eyebrow. “With that attitude? Not for much longer.” 
“So what, you’re here just to scold me like you’re my mom?” 
“No. I’m here because I’m your friend, and because everyone else thinks you need to be knocked off your high horse.” 
A beat. “And you? What do you think?” 
“I think you need help. I think prison affected you way more than you’re letting on, and I think you still hold a grudge against Nikki for getting you arrested in the first place, whether you realize it or not.” 
Riley was silent. If those words had come from anyone else, she would’ve been seeing red, but it was different coming from Desi. There was more...weight to them. More truth. Desi wasn’t the most forthcoming person in the world, but she also wasn’t a liar. 
“Okay,” Riley said slowly. “What do you suggest I do about it?” 
“Talk to someone. Preferably a therapist.” Desi sighed. “But if that’s too scary, you can start by talking to me. I’ve been where you are.” 
“What are you talking about? You’ve never been convicted for any of your crimes.” 
“I’m talking about PTSD, Riley. I have it, and I’m willing to bet you do too.” 
Riley caught her shoulders caving in and quickly straightened up. Don’t show weakness, she reminded herself. “You don’t talk about it.” 
“I talk about it with Sam.” 
It was Riley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Whatever,” she snarked.  
“It’s not whatever, and you know it.” 
Riley was over this conversation. “Can I get back to the very hot man in my bed now?” 
Desi almost looked sad as she stood. “Please, just...think about what I said.” She walked out the door without another word, leaving Riley with nothing but Desi’s echoing words as company.
*****
Riley sat across from Jill on her couch, laptop mirroring the schematics of the Louvre onto the T.V. Slouched into the black leather cushions, Riley’s casual posture didn't match the way her eyes narrowed as she studied the screen. It looked like she was pouting, but Riley didn’t care. Beside her, Jill did the opposite—sitting up straight, eyes calmly taking in the information on the screen. 
"How would you do it?" Riley asked. 
"Huh?"
Riley turned her attention to Jill. "If you were planning to rob the most secure museum in the world, how would you do it?" 
Jill pursed her lips, thinking. She stood, stepping closer to the T.V. "I would do it on a crowded day for more cover. The bigger the crowd, the better. And I wouldn't take something crazy famous that people would immediately realize was missing.” I wouldn’t take the French Crown Jewels, she clearly meant. Riley ignored the implied questioning of her judgement, giving Jill a free pass, but only because she was new. 
“Go on,” Riley urged. 
“The way I see it, there’s two ways we could do this. The first way, we do it in broad daylight, disguised as employees. Make up some documentation that the item needs to be moved for some reason. By the time someone figures us out, we’ll be long gone.” 
Not bad, Riley thought. But she knew firsthand that Jill’s plan wasn’t as easy as she made it sound. “And the other way?”
“Cut the power, create chaos, grab it and run.” 
A small grin curved Riley’s lips. “I like your style.” A plan started to form in her mind. Cutting the power would not only provide darkness as a cover, but it would also disable all of the security systems in place. All they’d have to do is get out unseen before the power was restored. 
“So how do we put the jewels on the black market?” Jill asked, sitting back down. “It seems to me that we might as well just tattoo ‘I did it’ onto our foreheads if we’re going to be that obvious.” 
Riley smirked. “Don’t worry about that. I can keep us completely anonymous. We’ll get our money with no one the wiser.” 
Crossing one leg under her, Jill said, “So you really don’t have an ulterior motive, do you? This is just plain old doing crime for money.” She fidgeted with the hem of her jeans as she spoke. 
“Yep. I like it that way. All I have to lose is a shit ton of money I don’t need.” 
“But if you’re the insanely talented hacker Nikki said you are, then why don’t you work for the government or something?” She pushed up her oversized glasses. “Why not use your skills for good?” 
“I have no interest in wasting my life behind a desk.” 
Pressing on, she said, “Then become a spy or something. I’m pretty sure the CIA hires nerds like you.” Eyes widening, Jill realized her mistake as soon as the words left her lips. 
“Nerds like me, huh?” Riley toyed, enjoying Jill’s discomfort. The blonde’s confidence was always so short-lived. “I’m just a common criminal,” Riley said in a low, confident tone. “I get my rush from stealing stuff. Do you know where the CIA gets it’s rush?” Jill shook her head. “From toppling foreign governments and premeditated murder.” A pause. “I’m a lot of things, Jill Morgan, but a murderer is not one of them.” 
Jill seemed to think it over for a few seconds before murmuring, “You might not be a murderer, but you are anything but a common criminal, Riley Davis.” 
Silence. 
The moment passed, and Jill looked more confused than ever. Riley fed her empty answer after empty answer, but it seemed the new recruit saw right through her facade to the impenetrable wall between the real Riley and the world. For a long time, that wall was her only source of safety, and Riley wasn’t too keen on taking it down. Especially not with someone new.
Clearly Jill hadn’t figured that out yet. “What am I missing?” she probed. Jill studied Riley like she could see right through the wall if she just looked hard enough. Riley didn’t like it. “I know why I’m here. You’re still trying to decide whether to trust me.” She paused. “But what you haven’t done is give me a reason to trust you.” 
“You trust Nikki,” Riley said matter of factly. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” 
“That’s true. But Nikki isn’t the one walking around like the living embodiment of a loaded gun.” Riley arched a brow in challenge, and surprisingly, Jill didn’t back down this time. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you’ve been gone for a while, and I bet your friend leaving the team had something to do with that. So tell me, what am I missing?” 
Sucking her teeth, Riley shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
With way more authority than she actually had, Jill said, “I’m going to refill my water bottle, and when I get back I expect an explanation.” 
“And when you don’t get said explanation?” 
“Then I will walk out that door and rat you all out to my friends at LAPD.” Taken aback by the threat, Riley said nothing. The coldness in Jill’s eyes and the set of her jaw made Riley think she wasn’t bluffing. Riley managed to school her face into neutrality, but her hand twitched, and Jill saw it. And suddenly they both knew Riley was backed into a corner she couldn’t get out of—not without this becoming very messy, anyway. 
Perhaps she had misjudged Jill completely. 
The thirty seconds it took Jill to fill her water wasn’t enough time for Riley to improvise her escape. Begrudgingly, she settled for the truth. “You want to know where I’ve been? Fine. I was in prison for the last two years. I’ve been out for almost a week.” 
“Why.” It was more of a demand than a question.
“During our last job, Nikki and Leanna—who you’re replacing—got caught. I bailed them out. Everyone else made it out just fine, and I got arrested.” 
Jill’s expression softened. “You sacrificed yourself for them,” she said, almost in awe. “Do you regret it?” 
Riley swallowed. Her pre-prison self would’ve rescued her friends—her family—every time, without a second thought. But after prison...she would rather die than go back. Jill looked at her expectantly, awaiting an answer. 
Telling Jill wasn’t the same as telling the others. She’s practically a stranger. But the others...telling them would make it all real. So in a rare moment of honesty, Riley finally admitted, “Sometimes.” 
A beat. “Thank you for telling me.” 
The air was thick with the murky truth Riley had revealed—and the implications that went with it. Confessing didn’t make her feel any better. Mostly Riley just felt like she’d lost something she could never get back. 
“So in a big crowd, huh?” Riley said to break the tension. 
The unreadable expression lingered for a moment before Jill finally looked away with a muttered “Uh, yeah.” She mindlessly pushed up her glasses with her middle finger. A nervous habit, Riley realized. Jill babbled, “I heard that some designer is renting the Louvre for an afterparty during Fashion Week. Apparently they’re unveiling some diamond and sapphire jewelry set at the party, in the same room that holds the French Crown Jewels. I think that it’s super tacky comparing something new to something so old and beautiful, but supposedly the new jewels are worth millions.” 
A thought began forming in Riley’s head. “How many million?” 
“Hundreds.” 
Nodding her approval, Riley said, “That’s not a bad idea, Blondie.” 
Jill seemed almost comically lost. “Idea?” she questioned. “What idea?” 
“Since you all hated my crown jewels plan, why don’t we get the next best thing?” 
Her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh.” 
Riley asked, “Where did you hear about the party anyway?” Jill chewed her lower lip, hesitating, but Riley didn’t have much patience these days. “Well?” she demanded. 
“Nikki.” 
Of course that’s who she heard it from. Nikki kept up with the fashion industry like her life depended on it. “I see,” Riley said. So much for escaping awkward conversations. 
“You should talk to her,” Jill blurted. “I know things are weird between you right now, but they won’t get better by doing nothing.” 
Riley hated how small her voice sounded when she whispered, “I know.”
~ Tag List ~ (let me know if you’d like to be added!) 
@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @incorret-macgyver-quotes / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay 
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gallivantingheart · 4 years
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Me, a Princess? Shut Up!
masterlist | previous | next
⏮️ chapter 4: amelia ⏭️
who?: jihoon/woozi x (f)reader
word count: 1522
genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au
warnings: coarse language
synopsis: Life’s pretty good for y/n. Easy, even. Until someone claiming to be her grandmother says she is the queen of a small island country - and y/n, a princess.
a/n: thank you so much for your patience! I’ve been pretty swamped with work, seeing as my hours have been upped. but I’m glad this is finally out - I hope you like it!
**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**
TAGLIST: @strykiss, @karrotkarrotkarrot, @3sriracha​, 
don’t hesitate to send an ask or dm to be added!
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When you round the corner of the stairs for your art history lecture, you're still fussing over your hair, oddly put together and feeling better than you can remember. Your shoes are a bit stiff from the newness of it all. There is a strangled cry and your head snaps up. Two pairs of round eyes meet yours and you dash over as quiet as you can before Mingyu can make any more fuss.
"Shhhh, shhhhh shhhhut up!" You hiss.
Minghao squints, giving you the once over. "Oh that’s a new one."
You nod and roll your eyes, slumping against the curved window that walled the hallway. There is no grip on your shoes, so you have to stand back straight to save yourself from falling.
"Yes. The Queen Mother deemed my normal, twenty-something look unfit for the potential public eye. Even if I’m only going to class.” You grumble.
You rifle in your bag - the only thing you wouldn't give up - for a stray hair scrunchie. At least she deemed those within fashion, seeing as they didn't strain your hair too much.
Hao crosses his arms. "You obviously don't like it."
The lecturer opens the door and the three of you ease into the theatre, planting yourselves in your usual spot. You shrug, pulling out your stuff.
"No, I’ve told you guys. It's not like that. I liked the stuff I wore before and I like what I'm in now...most of it, anyway. But, it's all just a bit much."
Mingyu knocks your shoulder lightly with a grin. "You're just not used to the royal treatment. Imagine when you get to try on the really fancy stuff."
In retaliation you flick at one of his pens with your own, watching his lips quickly drop into a pout as Mingyu fumbles to catch it back.
“That’s if I even get that far. I can’t even remember my own great grandfather’s name.” You grumble.
There is a collective hiss of the class to be quiet as the lecture starts, attendance being passed up the rows. Your name still fascinates you as you write it on the roll, so innocuous yet in plain sight. How does no one know who you are?
As you head through the campus for lunch with the boys before splitting for your next lectures, you notice that a lot of heads are turning your way. You can’t help but tug at the lapels of your coat, examining your outfit again. None of it was obviously designer - no brands labelled, etc.. The conversations dying at the sight of you. You can’t help but shrink a little into Mingyu’s side, worry turning down your lips.
“Psst.” You hiss up at them. “Is it just me or are people looking?”
Minghao rolls his eyes. “Don't be silly. It’s just you being paranoid.”
Now someone was pointing at you, gesturing to their phone. The food court is no longer as hustle and bustle as before. A lull in noise before erupting into something a little more frantic, like the rising buzz of a beehive. It feels like a beehive too - the honey white paint and low dingy ceiling from the old part of the university buildings. It’s Mingyu’s shout for lunch today - serves him right - so you keep your head in your phone, scrolling through Amaide’s embassy twitter in case anything about your grandmother pops up. All you’re getting though is weird tabloid articles. You jump, almost flinging your phone from your hands when the embassy’s phone number shows up. This early and so suddenly - it can’t be good.
“H-Hello?” You say, cringing Minghao’s way.
When he frowns, you mouth Queen, and he instantly falls quiet.
“Y/n, come to the embassy immediately. We have an escort waiting at the west entry. An issue has arisen.”  Soonhee’s voice is firm and louder than usual.
You stand up, shoving your stuff together, phone pinned to your shoulder. Covering the bottom mic you tell Hao, “gotta go. Royal Emergency.”
He nods. “We’ll talk later.”
You dash out, grabbing your sandwich roll out of Mingyu’s grasp on the way past and jamming it into your backpack for later. Your shoes aren’t gripping the worn brick that lines the pathways of your campus, so you resort to power walking as reasonably as you can.
“Grandma, what’s the matter?” You say breathless.
“Your position has been compromised. We will talk more when you arrive. Hurry.”
She hangs up as quickly as she rang and you swear harshly under your breath at her abruptness. Turning the corner, there is a car parked in a loading zone, flags snapping gently in the breeze.
You tumble in and before you even get a chance to right yourself, the envoy speeds off. The driver doesn’t say a word, so you know it's not Junwoo - that worries you even more. The Queen Mother had put him in charge of you, so why wasn’t he the one picking you up? The car crackles over the round gravel driveway and you spit yourself out as soon as you line up with the door, all sense of propriety out the window. You barely have a chance to settle your posture, reminding yourself of your grandmother’s expectations of arrival when the door flings open to an attendant. He takes your bag, gesturing down the long marble hall.
“Down the end and to the door on the right to the Conference Room, Miss.”
You give him a double take. You’ve never been in that part of the embassy before, unnecessary for your lessons. But you see a series of people rush in and out, phones glued to their ears.
The queen stands at the far end of the oval table, laptops and papers scattered. The screen behind her has a twitter feed up. Wood panelling makes the corporate room deceivingly warm, as does the lemon painting mirroring the tv. From the heavy air condition though, you know better.
“G-Grandma?” You mumble.
She straightens up to stare at you. “Y/n, come.”
“Wh-what’s the matter? Who are these people?”
You take a seat next to her. Junwoo is scanning a manila file, tipping his chin at you in greeting. People, places, numbers. They were looking for someone.
“Amaide Intelligence. But that isn’t your concern. Someone leaked that you are the heir. It’s blown up all over the media.”
You feel as if your stomach drops out of you, sinking and sickly. “When?”
“This morning.”
You think back to not even half an hour ago when it felt like the campus’s eyes were on you - now you know why. But the boys would never spill that kind of secret. You trusted them.
“So, why am I here? Could I not just have gone home?”
You’re feeling exceedingly small and naïve amongst the top secret hustle and bustle around you. Even the queen’s attention is not, for once, fully on you. Tucking a stray strand of grey behind her ear, she glances at you to shake her head.
“No. Not without an escort. You are to stay here for the day until we can find out who has done this. As a matter of safety. See if you can study while you’re here. Or help out if you can.” Dismissive, as usual.
You stand up, tempted to stomp and stalk out the room. Instead, you wait and listen, thinking. If your safety is in danger, therefore so is your family’s. And the boys. You decide to pick up a stray file - Mingyu’s, actually - to see if you can make out what the intelligence team is looking for. But not before sending a message to Mingyu and Minghao to summarise the situation.
It feels like hours of papers and google maps when the door to the room flings open.
“Antoni. Antoni leaked it to The Daily Mail.”
You look up to the unfamiliar voice. A young man with fluffy blonde hair and round cheeks grips a phone in one hand, a scrap of paper in the other. Kwon -
The Queen smiles. “Ah, Soonyoung. Thank goodness. Thank you very much. Junwoo, please call -”
He smiles. “Already did it. He’ll be over at seven.”
Soonhee stands up, hand clasped together. Junwoo is beginning to clean up the files, shutting down computers. You flop your own information closed, sighing in relief. You shoot to your feet though at the glare from the elderly woman, still severe in the dwindling natural light.
“Perfect timing as it is for tea.” Soonhee glides over to the young man, gesturing with a thin hand at you. “Soonyoung, this is the source of all this mess. My granddaughter, Y/n. Y/n, this is Soonyoung, our South Korean ambassador. Very good at his position, as you’ve just seen. A valuable member of your political team.”
He holds his hand out. “Pleasure to meet you!”
You shake firmly, smiling politely. “And you. Tea?”
Which you only offer because your grandmother is staring intently at you. It already feels like another lesson. But with the way he perks up at the mere mention of it, you don’t feel so sour.
“Absolutely!”
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Bonus:
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direnightshade · 3 years
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Steve
“Knock! Knock! Knock!”
This is the only warning that I get before the quiet of my office space is invaded by the far too loud, too intrusive presence of the man who steps in past the threshold with a smile that I decide, upon immediate judgement, that I do not like.
“The rumor mill was in full force this morning with word that we had a newcomer in the office. I just had to come and see for myself.”
Still seated behind my desk, I take a moment to assess the man as he moves further into my office. He is airing on the shorter side, perhaps only a little taller than myself, with dusty blonde hair and a freshly shaved face. The black slacks that he wears are nicely pressed and the light blue button down’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. I also note that he is lacking a tie.
He steps even closer with his hand extended out in greeting, and now I find that I must do the polite thing and rise up from my seat to do the same. “Steve,” he says. “I’m the Copy Editor.” In return, I introduce myself and take my seat again, but not before he pipes up with a most obvious observation.
“That’s Mrs. Barber, is it?”
“It is.” My response is accompanied by the lifting of a single brow and not even a hint of a smile though Steve, on the other hand, is all teeth.
“Word around the water cooler is that your husband was a hot shot play director back in the Big Apple. Any merit to that? I fancy myself a bit of a theater snob, myself.”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to allow my inner annoyance to show like the world’s worst poker face. I have barely been in this office for a full day and already I find myself severely missing the privacy afforded to me by my colleagues back in New York. Whatever happened to the rude attitude this area of the nation is so notorious for? And more importantly, why is he so goddamn friendly?
“Well, you’re in the wrong city for that, I’m afraid,” I fire back with a rather solid attempt at overplaying the friendliness to mirror his own.
This move, I will come to find, is a grave mistake.
The sun rises on a new week, and though I have only been in the West Coast office for a little over a month, these last couple of weeks have already begun with a sudden shift in our operations. Now I am no longer working from an office building downtown, and instead have set up shop in the home office that you have so meticulously set up for the two of us.
Beside me, with your desk pressed right up against mine, you are seated in front of your own computer, reading this morning’s news whilst you nurse your first cup of coffee with one hand and have the other placed gently against my stomach. I know that in only a few short minutes you will be rather irritated with the fact that your reading will be disturbed by what will be the first of my many Zoom meetings, but for now, the house is filled with a peaceful silence and we are basking in the calming presence of one another.
By the time that I have joined the myriad of familiar faces on my computer screen for our virtual meeting, the tea that you have fetched me earlier in the morning has been half consumed, the remainder of it now resting cold in the mug that sits nearby. You are already well underway with whatever masterpiece you have begun to craft, though it is not lost on me how your fingers seem to slow and then stall altogether when the sound of one coworker in particular rises up from the rest.
“Well, well, well. Look who looks fully rested and ready to take on the day. You look absolutely radiant.” Steve’s grin practically stretches from ear to ear, though all I can muster is a pleasant, but small smile in return. “Did you get that meme I texted you? The one with the dog?”
Out of my periphery, I can see how your left hand curls into a fist, and I don’t even have to look at you to know that your jaw is working overtime, teeth undoubtedly grinding with the agitation that I can practically feel radiating off of you in droves.
“I did,” I reply, soft, polite laughter following the reply. “Hilarious as per usual.”
You invade my space rather suddenly, your head coming into the camera’s frame with a rather broad grin of your own plastered onto your features. “Yes, Steve. It was quite comical. My wife showed it to me last night and we both had quite the laugh.”
In one of the other small video squares, Tammy—another coworker and new friend of mine—shifts uncomfortably in her seat at the abrupt posturing.
Steve clears his throat and utters a quiet ‘that’s good’ before falling silent just as you disappear from view again to recline back into your chair. He engages in conversation with a few other coworkers just as they pop up onto the screen until, finally, the meeting begins.
***
The meeting lasts all of twenty-minutes, and once it is over, one by one, the squares disappear as coworker after coworker hop off of the call, until it is only Tammy and myself.
“Hungry,” you ask, the question earning an emphatic nod. You chuckle and rise up from your spot beside me, murmuring that you’ll be right back before disappearing from the study altogether.
The door clicks shut softly, plunging the room into silence once more, but when I turn back to the laptop, I find that Tammy is staring at me with a strange look on her face. Her brows are pinched, and her lips are pressed together in a thin line, as if she is concerned, or at the very least, displeased.
“What’s wrong,” I ask, placing a hand atop my stomach as I lean back into my chair.
Tammy exhales a breath and shakes her head as if to dispel whatever unpleasant thoughts were just swirling around inside. “It’s nothing, I…” Another sigh, and again I can see her re-evaluating. “I know that we’ve made fast friends, but it’s really none of my business.”
Now it is my turn to furrow my brows, though it is in confusion rather than concern. “What do you mean?” A nervous laugh escapes me. “Tammy, what’s going on?”
Papers shuffle unseen off screen, and Tammy’s eyes slide off to the side to look to her right whilst she chews her lip nervously. A stretch of silence continues on until, finally, she gives in and looks back to me through her screen. “It’s just… Don’t you think it’s a little strange?” Her gaze flickers, I assume, to the still closed door behind me. Even still, her voice lowers to a whisper so as not to be heard in the off chance that you return sooner than expected. “Charlie’s behavior with Steve,” she elaborates.
For a moment, I say nothing. I am completely caught off guard by her observation of what has commenced during the call. Never before have I dared to call into question the jealousy, the possessiveness that you have displayed over any interactions I have had with anyone else. In fact, I have been known to egg it on a time or two, if I am to be quite honest. I like the attention, crave it, even. It is nice to know that I am wanted every bit as I still and always will want you and your affections.
However…
Tammy is right.
I suppose that initially I had excused the behavior as nothing more than my being pregnant and your...proclivity towards my recent state. But the recent behavior displayed any time that Steve makes an appearance on screen or, god forbid, is brought up in conversation I find you bordering dangerously close to accusations that I wish to have Steve in my bed rather than you.
Unbidden, a thought enters my mind.
This isn’t fair. Nothing about this is fair, nor is it right. For the entirety of our relationship, you have done nothing but take bedmate after bedmate, going to great lengths to hide every relationship—one night or otherwise—behind my back, whilst I have remained dutifully devoted and loyal to you. Yet the moment that I have one person show even a modicum of interest in me, I am suddenly subject to an inquisition and hawk-like monitoring any time that I am on a work call.
This is troubling.
My hand rubs light circles against my stomach absentmindedly as Tammy calls my name, pulling me from the thoughts that I seem to have gotten myself swept up in. I put on a smile and hope like hell that she cannot tell just how forced it is in the moment. “It’s nothing, Tammy. Steve has been...aggressive in his advances,” I reply in truth. “I’ve told Charlie, of course, and he has done nothing but make sure that Steve knows that I am perfectly content and well taken care of here at home.” I exhale a soft sigh as I adjust my position in my seat, now frowning at the sudden ache in my lower back. “If anything,” I start, fiddling about with the pillow I have placed between my back and the chair before getting comfortable once more, “it’s Steve’s behavior that I would consider to be strange. Continuing to make passes at a married woman, a pregnant married woman at that, well… That’s not exactly a good look, is it?”
Tammy’s lips purse, and she takes a moment to consider my words before conceding with a nod. “I suppose you’re right. Forget I said anything,” she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Anyways…” She trails off, heaving a great, put-upon sigh. “I better get back to what I was doing before the call, and undoubtedly you have more manuscripts to read. Talk tomorrow?”
I smile, a genuine one this time, just as the door to the office creaks open with your arrival. “Of course. Talk tomorrow. Bye, Tammy.”
Exiting out of the call, I turn my smile to you as you set down a plate of last night’s leftovers beside my laptop before taking your seat beside me. It does not go unnoticed how your eyes have traveled to my laptop, which now displays my work e-mail before returning to your own where you have a Word document open in preparation of working more on your own manuscript.
“No more call,” you ask nonchalantly.
“No,” I reply, the smile fading as my voice evens out into a neutral tone. I can feel your gaze on me as my finger taps idly against the edge of the plate just before pushing it further away from where I sit.
You shift in your seat, and I wonder if it is because you are unhappy that I have temporarily rejected your offering. “Aren’t you going to eat,” you prompt, testing the waters.
I take a moment, debating. I have long since lost my appetite, and though I am no longer hungry, I know what a prolonged rejection would mean. So, instead, I reach for the plate and pull it back to me. “Thank you,” I finally reply, turning my head to look back over to where you sit, mustering a smile.
You are looking back at me with a strange expression, one bordering on concern. In response, just as I had done earlier, I reach for your hand and settle it atop my stomach. Keeping my own hand on yours, I gently graze my thumb along your knuckles, watching as you visibly relax from the contact. It isn’t until I take a bite of the leftovers, however, that you finally return my smile, clearly pleased that your help has no longer been rebuffed.
Though we both return our attentions back to the screens in front of us, the issue raised by Tammy sits at the forefront of my mind, screaming out for me to pay careful attention.
Try as I might, I will get little work done today.
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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years
Text
Creep part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)
Pairing: Bakugou x fem!Reader
Genre: Spice!
Sequel to Creep (part 1)
Summary: Your roommate forces you to a dorm hangout with her boyfriend where you get hit on by a creep, only to have Bakugou come along and help you with the situation.
Word count: 2,835
Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog
a/n: More spice than the first part ;)  This one took a different turn from the first part, so I hope you all like it!  The ending might be a little rushed because I’m really exhausted and I wanted to finish this before I pass out on my keyboard.
This part was inspired by a Tiktok that was going to be a completely different scenario, but it ended up fitting perfectly as a sequel, so I used it!
Also I hit 100 followers!?  In 2 weeks?!  What are y’all following me for, I’m trash!?  Nonetheless thank you for supporting my tiny blog out of the vast world of Tumblr, I really appreciate it.  100 followers may not seem like a lot for some of you, but I never expected this to happen and I’m so grateful for each of you 😘😘  Ok enough of the mushy stuff, onward to the sequel!
Maybe I was hit by cupid's arrow.  Or the devil's, considering the type of thoughts I'm having.
I'm not usually the kind of person who lusts over people or their appearances.  I'll at least acknowledge them as hot and then move on, but I don't dwell on them.  Until I went back to our shared dorm still wearing Bakugou's hoodie and started having flashbacks of our few moments together.  His scent coupled with the memory of his smirk and those intense crimson eyes left me with a lingering high.  We had left things unfinished, and that little nagging in the back of my head drove me to do something I wouldn't normally do.
And that was stalking him.  I ended up scrolling through Ochaco's following list for his profile, and finding it was akin to discovering a hidden treasure.  From the outline of his build in that long-sleeve shirt I last saw him in, I knew there was something there.  While his profile displayed mostly pictures of his friends hanging out, there were also clips of him training in the gym.  Only when I chose those to watch those and scrolled to the end of the set would I be gifted with a beautiful mirror selfie of him in a black tank top.  Even just standing there, hands in his pockets or arms crossed across his chest, the curve of his arms and veins straining underneath entice me.
But that wasn't what stands out to me the most.  It's actually his neck.  In the small amount of time I'd spoken to him, the moment that he removed his hood and exposed it to me is the image that replays the most.  The structure of his muscles and his collarbone melding together into a perfect sculpture of a man.  That's what mostly haunted me.  To think it's one of the more sensitive parts of him makes my heart pound a little harder.  In every picture, it was the first thing I looked for.
"You planning on taking that off anytime soon?"
I jolted when Ochaco's sly comment awoke me from my reverie.  "Yeah, I just needed to check something first," I tried to play it off before - reluctantly - ripping the hoodie off of me.
And now, the day after that, I have to give it back to him.  This morning, a rogue though flashed into my mind: instead of simply handing it to him, I could wear it to class and have him watch me peel it off my body.  Such a thought never occurred to me before, startling me for being brash.
I did wear it though. I told myself it was cold in the classroom and I would need it.
When I walked into the classroom, I didn't dare to glance at the back for him since my thoughts haven't been the purest and I think I might've choked if I didn't mentally prepare myself.  If he was nice enough, he would have respected that sign, but he wasn't.
As soon as I turned around from getting a pen from my bag, there he was leaning on my desk, earning an embarrassing squeal from me.
His head tilts against his arm.  "That's a lovely shade on you."
My breath stops for a millisecond.  Huh?
Bakugou twirls one of the strings on the hoodie around his finger.  "The black matches your nails."
Oh.  Duh.  "Yeah?  I might keep it then."  Just to make my point, I pull the hood up on my head.  "You're probably not getting this back."
"Hording my clothes now?"  He clicks his tongue, "Sounds like you're the creep now.  Or just a thief."
Haaa, you don't know the half of it.  From the position he's in, leaning down on the desk and resting his head on his arm, there's a very perfect view of his neck and collarbone right in front of my eyes from under his black shirt and denim jacket.  I try not to linger on it and force myself to concentrate on his face instead.  "I'll give it back after class, this room is always too cold for me."  But today it feels just a bit hotter.
We agree to get lunch and head to the library after class until the professor arrives and he returns to his seat, but not before sending a wink my way.  I clutch the neck of the hoodie, stunned as the gesture spirals be back to us almost kissing, before the fire alarm rudely interrupted everything.  For the rest of class, I'm more concerned with how to take off an oversized hoodie in a sexy way than any kind of modern British prose.
.
We decide on staying on one of the library floors where a moderate level of talking is allowed, taking over a small, private study room where the door is transparent and there's a rectangular glass window to see inside.  I'm partially thankful for the extra insurance keeping me from possibly jumping on him, but that doesn't keep me from staring and letting my mind run wild.
Bakugou chose the seat at the head of the table and I chose the seat adjacent to him.  "I can't get over how the old hag typed out an entire 7 page guideline on how to write this paper.  Does she expect us to write a dissertation or something?!"
I slurp my udon.  "She needs to chill.  I thought her sarcastic humor was funny the first week of class, but she's getting on my nerves now."
"Then why do you keep laughing at all her jokes?"
"Because I need to kiss up to her so she can at least remember me to give me a good grade for one."  I put a piece of chicken in my mouth.  "And also, I'm low key scared of her killing my first born child."
Bakugou almost chokes on his Mapo Tofu laughing at that, throwing his head back and slamming the table.  The image of me kissing his neck flashes through me and cuts my laugh short.  Calm yourself!  I clear my throat.  "Speaking of scary people, if I had met you at the party, I would've had a very different impression of you, since you were much more...aggressive there."
He has a confused expression before he looks down at his food.  "You mean how I was screaming playing that game?"
"Yeah."  I note how uncomfortable he looks on the subject.  "I guess people usually think that of you?"
"Something like that.  I was kind of a loudmouth in high school, I think I've gotten better."  He turns to me, twirling his chopsticks in his hand curiously.  "What was your first impression of me?"
I shrug.  "You're quiet, you have a brain in your head, and you like to sleep in class sometimes."
The blond snorts, "People don't usually associate me with 'quiet,' you'd be the first."
Should I be flattered by that? I wonder.
We finish our meals without another word.  I pull out my laptop and start looking through the guidelines for our paper again.  "I don't even know what book I want to write about, they're all so boring."
Bakugou shrugs, still peering into his laptop screen.  "I would just pick the one with a theme you can bullshit the most about."
"I guess," I slump down onto my arm.  I always liked reading growing up so I didn't think I would have a tough time in this class, but the professor really drains the energy out of me.
I feel a bit hot in his hoodie, perking up at the opportunity to pique his interest.  Maybe I can lift it up so my shirt underneath slides up and shows my stomach a little?  Would that be sexy?  How do I remove it casually enough in one swift movement without fucking it up?  Maybe he'll find any way I do it attractive, because hopefully that's how guys think.
I decide to just try it an see how it goes.  Lifting it with both hands from the bottom, I drag the hoodie up and almost get it over my head, feeling my shirt underneath lifting below it.  I try straightening my back to make my posture look a little more curvy than I probably already am.  The problem I face is getting it off my head, which immediately dampers my effortlessly-sexy act into an awkward one.  I have to slip my arms out from the sleeves and push it up from underneath, messing my hair up slightly in the process.
I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction in case he saw it.  There is none, his eyes are still glued to the screen.
Well, that was kind of a fail, I think, throwing the hoodie onto the space between us.  I'm just a bit disappointed that I can't channel my inner flirt around boys I like, but it's not the end of the world.
"Too bad, I thought you look pretty good in my hoodie," he spares me a smug grin.
I freeze up at the statement, heat rushing to my cheeks.  "I think so too," I murmur, "Maybe I should steal your jacket too."
He stops tapping on his keyboard and stares at me with an unfamiliar emotion.  I'm about to ask what he's thinking before he removes his jacket and hands it to me.  "I'd like to see that."
I almost think it's a joke, but I take it from him anyway, draping it around my shoulders without putting my arms through the sleeves.  I get the sense that it might be too big on me if I put it on.  A fresh bout of his scent comes with it, sending me into another spiral of unhealthy thoughts.
"I think the universe is trying to tell me something, because you look good in all my clothes," Bakugou leans back in the seat, looking down his nose at me.
The implication makes my heart flutter.  "Yeah, they're actually mine and you'd stolen them from me before.  Or you just have a really girlish figure."  Like hell I believe that, you were probably sculpted from stone by the gods.
"Pfft, whatever you say," he rolls his eyes and looks back his laptop, scanning over the notes he wrote down.  "So, this is the list of themes for each of the books we read for class, wanna hear it just in case it triggers something for you?"
My mind is still hung on the sculpted from the gods thought, so I absently nod  while staring at him to make him think I'm paying attention.  In reality, my thoughts wander to the pictures I'd seen of him a few nights ago, the gym mirror selfies in his tank tops.  His arms are definitely just a teaser for what he probably has underneath that shirt, and I'm betting on there being a washboard waiting for me to run my hands over, judging by the brief glance I had down his shirt earlier.
Unconsciously, my eyes trace down to his black button down.  It practically teases me, his top 2 buttons undone to expose all of his collarbone and the top of his defined chest.  I don't have to go by the low quality mirror posts on his profile or the fuzzy memories from the party, it's right there for me to see.  Flashes of me running my fingers over his neck as I nibble on his ear, rogue noises of his hypothetical sighs of bliss, my hands spreading his shirt open to allow for more space to kiss down his muscular neck.  Each new image quickens my heart rate and sends a new tremor down my body.
I'd love to just devour him.
"Hey!"
Both his voice and the rational one in my head snap me back to reality.  Did I really just-
Annoyance creases in his brow as I recompose myself and sit up straight.  "Sorry, I didn't catch the last thing," my voice comes out noticeably strained.
"What's wrong with you-"  Just like that, his face crosses with an awareness that only morphs into a smirk.  "I guess you're letting your mind wander."
My eyes widen.  Shit, he knows, I'm caught!  "No, I'm just-"
"We've only known each other for a day and you're already obsessed with me, aren't you?"  He leans forward, only to have me lean back, but he pulls the collar of his jacket on me to keep me in place.  "That might be a little unhealthy, don't you think?"
I'm staring at his descending lips, part of me holding a desire for them to quell the feeling I've locked up.
Bakugou hums low, breath caressing my face.  "I think we have some unfinished business from the other night.  You must've been thinking about that."  His gaze flickers down to my slightly agape lips before slamming his down on them.  Though it's not delicate by any means, it still feels like a tester.  Electricity shudders through me at our long-awaited reunion, and when he pulls away for a moment to look down at me with half-lidded eyes, I know he feels the same thing.
And something breaks free inside me.  I hurriedly press my lips back against his, catching him by surprise.  I take the lead, quickening the tempo of our kisses as one of my hands tangle in his soft hair, not giving either of us time to breathe.  Leaning forward into him, my stomach presses into the table corner between us, and I break away from him.  Allowing only a few pants, I jolt from my seat and round the corner to take the place of his lap and join our lips again forcibly, my knees on either side of him, pressing our bodies together against the back of the chair and swiveling into the table for stability.  He was caught off guard before, but he melts into me and allows his hands to grab my waist.
I trail my tongue onto his lower lip before tracing my lips across his jaw.  "You weren't expecting this, were you?"  I breathe against the shell of his ear, his natural musk filling my nostrils.
A low groan escape him.  "I didn't think you wanted me this much.  Must've driven you a little crazy somehow."
My hand tangled in his hair drags down his neck, my nails grazing it ever so slightly, eliciting another growl from him and his grip me tighter.  "I'll show you some of what I was just thinking about."  Starting at the base of his ear, I pepper more open-mouthed kisses down the same neck that's haunted me, sometimes tickling my tongue over the spots he  stiffens up at.
Once I reach the base of his neck, barely caressing that taunting collarbone, I move the opening in his shirt away to expose more of his chest to me, continuing up to where his shoulder and neck conjoin, remaining there to massage it with my lips and lightly graze my teeth on it.  "This little creeper wanted to taste this neck you love to flaunt."  I pull away and meet his wanton gaze.  "I wonder if I should mark it."
Calloused hands dig under my shirt as he catches his breath.  "Depends.  What kind of relationship do you want from me?"  He's holding himself back.
I never stopped to think about it.  He's a pretty great guy, we have pretty strong chemistry, and we bounce off each other really well, not to mention he's the only guy to have awakened such new feelings from me.  Looping my arms around his neck and joining our foreheads together, I mutter against his lips, "Let's go on a few dates maybe?"
He smirks and gives me another slow kiss before pulling away.  "Deal.  But let's take this slow.  I can very easily do something like this to you too, but then how will I get to know you?"
I sit back on his thighs.  "Fair point.  And, just an aside," my face gets warmer at my admittance, "I don't normally do this.  I'm usually more reserved, but you're different, I guess."
"I think you were just really thirsty for a real man," he winks, earning a shove in the chest from me.  "That was an impressive show though, I'll give you credit.  Maybe later, I can show you what goes on in my head.  Except, it's a lot more than just a few neck kisses."
I almost choke on that, my cheeks growing even hotter.
Bakugou's expression softens, the teasing disappearing.  "But before that, we can enjoy ourselves in calmer things.  Like dinner?  Or bowling?"
My chest swells with something lighter than desire.  "Sounds like a plan."
He plants a kiss on my nose.  "Okay, now get off before someone walks in on us.  It's a study room, not a make out room, creep."
I get off him and settle back into my seat.  "I think I prefer the term 'perv,' thank you very much."
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yourmcu · 3 years
Text
Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)
Request: 
Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.
Word count: 1,627
A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao
hella big update: the continued version is here!
Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad
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gif not mine! credits to the owner^^
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Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.
You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.
The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.
You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:
“I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”
“Maybe later.”
At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.
You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.
There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.
“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.
He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.
But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.
And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.
As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.
“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.
He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”
You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”
“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.
Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”
“I’m... I’m sorry-”
“Just get out of here.”
Your arm remained untreated after that.
Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.
You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.
“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.
“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”
“Y/N Stark.”
Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”
You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”
After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.
Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.
The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.
You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”
Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.
“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”
“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”
Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”
On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.
“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”
You let out a snort. Of course he would.
“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”
“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”
“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”
“That’s not what I-”
“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.
Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.
You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.
“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building. 
Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”
“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”
You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”
----
The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.
Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.
“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.
“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”
The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”
Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.
“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”
To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.
----
You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.
Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?
565 notes · View notes
neohighwayv · 4 years
Text
Good enough
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Characters: WayV’s Yangyang x fem reader
Genre: angst, fluff, bff!au
Word count: 4.1k
Description: In which you think you’re never good enough – and Yangyang does not know what to do when the strongest person he’s known breaks down.
------
“Hey, you can put your work aside for now, I got us dinner.” Yangyang announced he enters the shared apartment, closing the door with his foot as his hands were full of plastic bags filled with takeout food. He walked over to place the food on the kitchen’s island counter, right beside your pristine sleek silver laptop. He started unpacking the food from the red and blue plastic bags, making sure to buy your favourite dumpling soup from the stall at the end of the street, even though it took him a good 20 minutes to get there; he’ll do it for you – his best friend and roommate. He knew you’ve been working hard this semester, and whilst he can’t help with lightening your workload, he figured he could at least make you slightly happier by keeping you well fed.
You, however, ignored his presence entirely. Your eyes remained glued to the glaring laptop screen, the pages upon pages of words practically screaming at you to read them, yet the dull throb at the back of your head made it hard to get anything done. You’re reading the words but you’re not processing them. You’ve been going at the snail’s pace for the past 2 hours, only getting through 5 pages of this article. Yet, you’re not even sure if you’ve understood everything from the past 5 pages of it. Could you even tell a difference between Freudian theory and humanistic psychology now? Ask a toddler and they might be able to give a better answer than you can. Still, you’re the stubborn type – you truly never knew when to stop or take a break for your own good – and so you keep going.
Till the end of this chapter. Just 2 more pages before I take a break and have dinner with Yangyang.
You tune out the noises that Yangyang made beside you, tightening the grip on your mouse and fixing your stare on the screen more firmly. You will your heart rate to go down, torn between not wanting to keep Yangyang waiting versus finishing the chapter.
When all the food has been placed neatly into plates and scooped perfectly into bowls, Yangyang prompted you to take a break again.
“Let’s have dinner together now?”
“I know, Yang. Just 5 more minutes.” You snapped back immediately, tone clipped and tense.
That’s when Yangyang knew that he’s hit a nerve. He wanted to protest against your statement but he knew better than to do that. He’ll just anger you further. Hence, he bit back his remark, opting to chew on his inner cheek instead. Being your best friend for years has its pros and cons. The pro: You’re smart, which meant that he’s always got someone to help him whenever he got stuck with his assignments and a sharp eye to catch his mistake. After all, you’re not a double major in Psychology and Sociology for nothing. Not everyone got to boast about that. The con: Yangyang knew you well. Too well. In fact, better than he knew himself. He knew that you won’t back down from anything you say once it came out from your mouth. He also knew that you’re always determined to finish what you started. So when you said 5 more minutes, he knew that you actually mean “Till you finish that chapter” and that no matter what he said, you would not move from your seat or touch your food until you’re done doing what you’ve set out to accomplish.
Plopping down in his seat diagonally across you, Yangyang had to make do with eating dinner alone again (for 5th night in a row that week) At least this time he got to sit in your presence – the previous nights, you had simply brought your food into your room, typing away on your laptop between mouthfuls for food.
-
Throughout dinner, Yangyang chewed silently so as to minimise disturbance to you. He stole glances at you from time to time, trying to gauge when you’re about done with your article. He knew how to observe when you’re almost done – your eyeballs would move rapidly from side to side, rushing through the last paragraph before closing your laptop shut. But even as he swallowed his last bite of dinner, he knew you’re not done. You’re still stared intently at the screen, eyes unblinking and posture stiff. Your head is propped up on your knuckles as you used your other free hand to move your hair away from your face before resuming its original position against your mousepad, slender fingers moving smoothly across the surface of the pad. Yangyang thought he saw the faint outline of a vein against your temple and the tight clench of your jaw. You’re tense, extremely tense. You clearly need a break.
Gently, he prodded again. But he doesn’t get another word in before you snapped at him again.
“Hey, maybe – ”
“I know, Yang. I know. Just... just give me another 5 minutes...”
He heard the exasperation in your voice, noticed the way you seem to became smaller in stature; your chest collapsing into itself as your voice becomes so incredibly small that he could barely hear you despite the silence in the apartment. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or were the edges of your eyes red? Something wasn’t right.
“Are you ok?”
“No, Yang. I’m not. I’m not ok.”
You snapped your head up to stare at him dead in the eye so quickly, that Yangyang worried that you might have snapped it into half. Your chest is heaving violently now, the silver necklace on lying on collarbones now glinting as it caught the artificial light from the lightbulb that hung above you. Your eyes got redder and glossier by the second, rare tears pooling around the edges.
“I’m not ok. This semester is going terribly and I just want to be done with it! It’s a groupwork but I’m the only one doing something. If I don’t say a thing, no one else does anything. Work meant for 5 ends up being done by 1. Yet there’s nothing I can do except suck it up because we’re at this stage where no higher authority would care if you can’t work with others. Just submit the work and be done with it! So, I suffer silently and hope I don’t break before I submit the thing.
 Gosh, I feel like I can’t even breathe because once I submit one assignment, I get another message saying that the new one is due at the end of the week! Just great!”
 At this point, you stopped to collect your breath, the first tears streaming down your face, the tinge of saltiness staining the tip of your tongue.
 “Professor Wang is not happy with my paper and she’s ‘extremely disappointed’ with my work. So much for being a damn straight A student when I can’t even submit a satisfactory piece of work. Oh, not to mention. I failed my driving test. For the 3rd time in the row. How pathetic. Went home and I got vindicated about it the entire weekend! ‘Your sister did it in one try. So did the rest of your cousins. Why can’t you?’ Well – it’s just too bad isn’t it? Driving doesn’t come easy to some of us. I’ve been trying so hard and not a word of acknowledgement from them – I just get blamed for wasting money and time.”
 At this point, you stabbed the tip of your pencil down hard on your blank piece of paper, causing the pencil lead to fly across the table top. Your knuckles were red from the vice grip you had on the pencil; your head bowed to prevent Yangyang from seeing the waterworks on your face. This entire time, Yangyang’s heart cracked with each revelation, never knowing how much you were hurting inside from all the pressure others were putting on you. Most importantly, the pressure that you were putting on yourself. He saw you every day... how could he be so blind to all the signs? The late nights, your quieter self, your bloodshot eyes. How could he possibly miss all that? He heard you suck in a deep breath, head still bowed as you place your head against your palm. From beneath the curtain of your hair, he heard your weak voice filled with hurt, voice wavering as you choked on your own words.
“I get it. I get it ok? I get that I’m not good enough. For anyone. For... anything. No matter what I do... what I try... I’ll never be good enough. I could try till I break myself but I’ll just never be good enough. I’ll just never, never, never be good enough and it hurts to be so painfully, aware of that.”
You finally looked up to face him - and Yangyang swears; he sweared on his life that he’s never seen you look so broken before and the sight immediately made tears prick the corner of his eyes.
 And that sight makes you cry even harder.
 You didn’t think that you were capable to producing more tears, not when your eyes were burning and you’re already so physically exhausted – but you do. You hated seeing him sad because he’s worried about you – the thought of making someone worried because of you showing your weakness – brought fresh tears to your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was to make your friends or family worried for you, and you absolutely hated being the cause of their pain. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop your strangled cry from leaving your throat, you didn’t want to make Yangyang anymore worried that he already is.
“Oh, I can’t do this anymore. I need to stop hurting people around me.”
That was the last coherent line that you managed to get out of your throat before you stumbled out of your chair, making a beeline for the bathroom so that you could cry alone. If he saw you break down anymore, you were certain he would start crying too and you didn’t want to be the cause of his pain anymore. You slammed the door shut behind you and proceed to slump down against the door, your weak body not even registering the heavy contact with the floor. The chilling bite of the cold tiles quickly seep through the floor to reach your body and your body shakes violently, but at this point in time, you’re not sure if you’re shaking violently from the cold, or the crying that is currently wrecking your body in waves. Strangled cries bubble in your throat, threatening to escape you but you clamped your lips shut tight, hoping that no sound would escape you. But you're not sure if that does the trick – you can't hear anything else over the wild thumping sound of your heart that currently filled your ears. You cried and cried and cried, the endless tears falling to stain your brown shirt into a darker shade of brown. In the past, you would have fought your tears, hating to show such a weak image in front of others and detesting yourself for doing so. But today, after months of fighting yourself and others, you're finally willing to concede – and for once in your life – you're willing to admit that you're too tired to fight anymore. You let your body does what it has to do to help you feel better – even if that meant crying yourself dry and hoping that all the pressure you've placed on yourself will be expelled through your tears.
 Throughout this entire ordeal, Yangyang sat shell-shocked in his seat, unable to move an inch. He can't really make sense of the mess of emotions he's feeling right now – but one particular emotion does stand out compared to the rest – shock. I mean – what does one do, when the strongest person you've ever known broke down in front of you? In this entire time of his 10 years knowing you, Yangyang might have seen you cry, but he's truly never seen you completely break down and reduced to tears by the pressure. Sure, he's seen you cry – when both of you are watching a particularly sad movie or you're listening to the harrowing history told by war survivors. But Yangyang has never – never ever, ever – seen you broke down from the pressure. That's why this episode was particularly shocking for him, because for you to do so, Yangyang knew that you must be under an immense amount of stress, to the point where you can't cope with it anymore. He thought back to all the times he's spent with you, and he cannot even conjure up an image of him comforting you. In fact, all he seemed to remember is being comforted by you. The countless amount of times he's called you over the phone to rant about someone's stupidity or a particularly infuriating incident – which usually ended with both of you eating dessert as he finished making his complaints between bites of ice cream. The infinite amount of post-it’s you left all over his belongings when you know he's going to have a rough week. He remembered when you showed up at his doorstep without him having to ask, immediately opening your arms to wrap him in a hug as he freely cried into your shoulder – the first time when his dog died from old age, and a couple more times after when he failed important things; tests, auditions and interviews that at that time, meant the world to him. In this friendship, you've always been the strong one, never once admitting that you're having a hard time. But Yangyang knew better now; should have known better earlier, that no one could be a superhuman. No one is truly invincible against the harsh realities of life – not even the strongest person he knew – and Yangyang wished that he had noticed the changes in you earlier. Of course, he knew that he's not fully responsible for you – you're an adult that should know how to manage herself and ask for help when she needed it. But as your best friend, maybe he should have checked up on you sooner. After all, that's what friends do for one another – to remind each other that they're always there should they need it. Maybe things would have been better if he had checked up on you earlier but it's too late to think about that now. Right now, you've locked yourself inside the bathroom to cry your heart out, and Yangyang's main priority as your best friend is to make sure that you're not left alone with your own self-loathing thoughts; to make sure that you're comforted – just like how you've comforted him so many times before. Yet Yangyang still can't seem to move an inch. He does not know exactly how to comfort you, he's never had to do this before.
Come on Yangyang, think. What should you do?
He fumbled over his few options – play you your favourite music, or buy you your favourite peppermint ice cream with bread from the uncle with the pushcart, or crack a joke. In the end, he decided to go with what he knew the best – comforting you like how you comforted him and Step 1 involved not leaving you alone with your own thoughts by having someone from your side.
Yangyang bolted from his seat, pacing quickly towards the bathroom before stopping outside the white door to rap his knuckles against the door, the rattling motion jolting you out of your stupor.
"Open up. Don't stay in there alone ok?"
"No Yang, please just leave. I'll be fine-" You catch yourself at this part. Are you truly fine? Were you ever truly fine? Whenever others asked you how you're doing, your default answer would be that you're doing fine. Even though you were struggling, the answer would be – "I'm fine." or "I'm doing well." You never wanted others to probe or ask too many questions, admitting to your struggles often made you embarrassed. Worse still, you didn't want family and friends to worry about you. "I'm fine" soon became a reflex, something you said without even processing the question that the other party had asked.
Your train of thoughts were broken when you heard Yangyang's voice travel through the door separating the both of you.
"No, you're not fine. I'm not leaving you alone so please open the door now."
"No Yang, I'm fine- I- just give me a few more minutes. I'll be out soon."
You heard Yangyang sigh heavily, his last words reaching your ears followed by the sounds of his footsteps walking away.
"I'm getting the keys."
"No Yang, don't you dare!"
You tried to raise your voice, but it betrayed you instead, cracking from being overused just now. You stomp your feet in frustration, feeling helpless once again. Yangyang was going to see your wrecked self soon, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it.
 Yangyang quickly sifts through the keys hanging by the front door before making his way back to the bathroom, slotting the key into the lock before twisting the door open. Once again, Yangyang was met by the harsh bite of your tone and words, but he brushed it aside. Your cold words directed against him is the least of his worries now. Comforting you, however, was his main priority.
"I said I'll be alright Yang, why-"
"You're clearly not ok. I know now. You're not ok. You haven't been ok for some time now."
You stood still when you heard him say such things, the words feeling foreign to your ears. No one has ever said those words to you because no one has ever saw through the strong front that you've put up before. Or even if they did, no one thought it was important enough to mention it. Someone finally noticed and cared enough to talk about it, and somehow that revelation made you want to cry again. Seeing you standing there unmoving, Yangyang decided to say something to break the silence again.
"You don't have to be ok all the time. So, would you just stop putting up a front for once, admit that you're not alright, and let me in? Come here."
This time round, you no longer resisted, allowing Yangyang to gently draw you into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing comforting strokes up and down your arms. Fresh tears streamed down your face at Yangyang's gentle gesture; you probably made a mess of his clean shirt but he could care less, that's not important now.
"Cry it out. Cry it out if you have to."
"Stop saying that! You're going to make me cry more."
"And that's completely alright. There's nothing wrong with crying."
"It's so embarrassing to cry – what do you mean there's nothing wrong with crying?"
You heard Yangyang take a deep breath, feel the rise of his chest against your cheek and you mentally prepared yourself for his lecture.
"There really is nothing wrong with needing a good cry to let out all your pent-up frustrations. There's nothing wrong with admitting that you need help, and asking for it. Can you internalize that and remember to come and find me when you're having a hard time? You do the same for me when I'm having a rough time, can you let me do the same for you? Even if you don’t come and find me, make sure you find someone else. Promise me that."
You stayed silent, not sure if you could ever bring yourself to admit being so weak in front of him again.
"Promise me." He shook your shoulders to elicit a response from you and you decided to grace him with a disgruntled muffle; not exactly the response that he was hoping for but he'll take that as a yes for now.
"Good. If you're ready to talk, we can work out how to go about dealing with your assignments and driving ok? Tomorrow we'll go see Professor Wang and get her to elaborate on how to improve your essay. As for driving... maybe take a break first. Like you said, you've been practicing a lot. Maybe too much. Knowing you, you probably went for tons of lessons before your tests. Am I right?"
You nodded weakly against his chest, a wry smile lifting the corners of your lips as memories of your driving lessons are brought to the forefront of your mind.
"Knew it. So, yea... maybe you should take a break. Give yourself time to absorb all that you've learned before you go back for lessons. The break will do you good – trust me on that. I'm only so carefree because I take more breaks than I should." Yangyang chuckled at his own words and you followed suit, your chest rising and falling as you let out soft puffs through your nose.
"Now that we've got a plan out for you, we should do one last thing."
"What is it?"
"We should get ice cream. And then you can rant about your teammates over ice cream. I want to get all that hot piping tea."
For the first time in a long while, you found the heart within yourself to let out a laugh, memories of Yangyang and his animated storytelling of terrible groupmates tickling your sides. Oh, how the tables have turned. It was finally your turn today. 
“So… are we going? Just waiting for your reply now.” 
There was no way that you were going to be able to say no to that, eating ice cream and complaining about people whilst eating was something that you and Yangyang always did; a sacred part of your relationship.
“Alright we can go, but let me wash up first and give my eyes some time to stop being red.” 
“WOOHOO! Ok, we’ll go once you’re ready.”
Both of you fall into comfortable silence again, Yangyang still held onto you in an embrace. 
“Thank you, Yang.”
“You’re welcome. I’m always available if you ever need me. Even if I’m busy, I am going to make time for you so come find me anytime ok?”
“Ok, I’ll remember to come find you next time.”
“There – you said it. You got to promise me. With a pinky swear and stamp.”
Yangyang removed an arm from your shoulder to place his hand in front of your face, his pinky finger sticking out from the rest of his fingers. You lifted your hand to hook onto his pinky before pressing your thumb against his own, using a little more force than usual and Yangyang smiled at that, knowing that it’s your way of saying that “I’m feeling better now. You don’t have to worry so much about me anymore.” 
“Pinky promise is done so you can never break the promise anymore. Oh, we’ll get extra-large scoops of ice cream later, my treat today!” 
“Sounds like a good plan, because I’ve got loads to say about my trashy group mates.”
“Awesome. Been dying to get some gossip lately, and now I’m finally going to get it.” 
You let out another hearty laughter at your best friend’s dramatic self, him following suit but when the laughter finally died down, you got some quiet time to be with your own thoughts again. 
 They often said that your worst enemy is yourself, and maybe that’s true for you. You constantly placed so much pressure on yourself, tearing and beating yourself up when you fell short of your goals because your failure is all that you could see, never the commendable effort that you put in or your perseverance to pull through with all your various responsibilities. You suffered silently by yourself even when the pressure became overwhelming, never one to admit your struggles because you didn’t want to be a burden to others – even when no one ever said you were. But today, you had been proven wrong. No one thought of you as a burden, and no one would say that you’re weak or embarrassing when you asked for help. And that if you did ask for help, those around you would actually come forth to render you their support. That’s what friends are for, to share the good times with, and to pick you up when you fell – and you were extremely lucky to have an understanding friend like Yangyang in your life. After all, no man is an island living in this harsh world alone – it’s easier to get by with help from friends and there will be someone willing to help you, if you’d only just remember to ask. You knew that old habits die hard, and perhaps even after this, you would go back into your shell and old ways. Yet, you’re confident that with a friend like Yangyang, someone would be there to look out for you, and coax you out of your shell whenever you forgot to take care of yourself again.
190 notes · View notes
smolkooks · 4 years
Text
croissants and pomeranians
pairing: kim taehyung x female reader
genre/s: college!au, dancer!taehyung, dancer!jimin, non-idol!au
word count: 5.5k
warnings: none! :) lots of fluff
summary: you want to adopt a puppy, and come across a pair of pomeranians. they’re absolutely perfect, the only problem is that your apartment building only allows one dog, and the two puppies are brothers that cannot be separated. luckily, kim taehyung has a solution for you, which happens to involve dates at the dog park, froyo and strawberry croissants.
*
You never thought you’d say it (or rather, think it) but the sound of rowdy traffic was oddly nice. Well, not nice, per se, but just—a reminder that the outside world still existed.
That was nice to know, after having stayed at home, doing work for your finals for the past two weeks.
Your friends had called you multiple times, each call more desperate as you refused their offers each time. It’s not that you didn’t want to go with them. It was just that it was your final year of college and you couldn’tfail. You didn’t have anything to fall back on, and this was it, for you.
“Y/N,” Jimin, your best friend and classmate, had whined on his third call to you earlier that day, “Pleaseeeee come with me to Seulgi-noona’s party. I need a friend to go with me!”
“Jimin,” You’d sighed, and he immediately started on his next, pre-prepared spiel, anticipating your rejection:
“Please, please, please! You won’t fail from just one night out, I’ve done all the calculations for you, you’ll be fine! You get good grades, anyway, you’ll be fine, you’re way smarter than me—,”
“Jimin, I really can’t,” You’d cut him off, genuinely upset at having to disappoint your best friend. But you seriously didn’t have a choice. Contrary to what Jimin had said, you got mediocre, passing grades—that wasn’t going to cut it for you to make it into what you wanted to do. “I’m sorry. I’ll go with you after the exams are over!”
“It’s not good for you to be alone up there all the time,” He’d said after a short moment, “I would visit if I could but I lost my train card and I live too far away to walk—,”
“It’s okay,” You’d told him with a laugh, “Seriously, thanks, but don’t worry about it. I’m okay alone, and besides, you call me like seven times a day.”
“I just miss you,” He’d said, his voice suddenly very small, and your heart clenched a bit, “At least get a puppy or something. I don’t want you to come out of your apartment after finals and be completely insane.”
You’d chuckled, “I’ll think about it, Jimin.”
And it was partially Jimin’s speech that spurred you to actually, finally leave and take a short break outside.
Well, you were still going to study—just, at your aunt’s coffee shop instead of cooped up in your apartment—at your aunt’s insistence, of course. So, never one to refuse her, you’d packed up your laptop and books and headed out.
The café was very small, but its quaintness was what made it homely to you. Although you didn’t have much time to visit, this had been your favourite place to go after school as a kid.
Pushing your way through the door with your elbow, bag in hand, you said a quick hello to the cashier—who was just your cousin. She loved working here, as far as you could tell, and she gave you a very excited wave in reply, before returning to the customer who was speaking to her.
You pulled out a chair by the window, on the stools, and sat, spreading out your schoolwork and putting in your earphones. Admittedly, though, you found yourself more than distracted by the cars zooming through the streets outside. Maybe it was a coping mechanism from the stress of exams that felt like they were going to break your back—the want to find some sort of distraction. You hadn’t talked to anybody in weeks.
Come to think of it, that very short exchange with your cousin was the first human interaction you had had in a whole fourteen days. That brought a scoff to your lips, and you sighed, letting yourself sink into your chair, your posture sagging. What were your friends up to? You’d declined their past two invites to parties because there was just too much work to do, and they had seemed to give up after the second…
It was only when somebody put a hand on your shoulder and said, “You’re studying English?” that you were finally shocked out of your daydreaming and whipped around to see a curious face peering at your laptop screen. He didn’t do it rudely, but just in a purely inquisitive way. So, while you might have rushed to shut your laptop in any other situation, his shining eyes and the quirk at the corner of his mouth made you do otherwise.
Instead of panicking, you forced yourself to be calm, and then said with a smile, “Yeah, I’m planning on moving out of Korea once I graduate.”
You took this moment to take a good look at his face—his light-brown hair looked freshly-dyed, curls falling into his eyes. His eyes were pretty; he appeared to have some sort of coloured lense in, and immediately your interest was piqued. By the lense, yes, but also because his face was very handsome.
He made a look that seemed almost…impressed, and then set his things down in the seat next to you, moving to sit, “I wish I was smart enough to do that.”
You flushed, “I’m sure you are! I’m struggling as it is anyway—finals are next week and this is the first time I’ve left my apartment in ages.”
He leant with one elbow against the table, chin on his hand, and replied, “Nah, I gave up on school ages ago,” he grinned mischievously, “Barely made it out of high school in one piece.”
“You know some basic stuff though,” You blurted in your rush to find something to fill the silence, and immediately your face flustered red, “Sorry, that’s not what I meant—I’m sure you—,”
“It’s okay,” He laughed, and when he playfully reached over to lightly push your shoulder, “You’re cute. I doknow some basic stuff, fortunately.”
Cute. Cute.
“Uh—yeah,” You stuttered, tongue-tied, “Um, did you want to get anything to eat?” At this point, your laptop had long since fallen asleep, its screen darkened, and you glanced at your reflection. You were met with your pink flush and suddenly felt very embarrassed so you shut your computer quickly, “I could buy us something—,”
“I already got stuff,” He said, waving you off with a boyish smile, “It’s all good. Thanks, though. I hope you like strawberry croissants.”
You furrowed your brows, tilting your head in confusion, “Yeah, I do, but I didn’t buy anything—,”
Suddenly, your cousin was walking towards you with two plates—sure enough, confirming your suspicions—containing a strawberry croissant on each one. This boy was toosmooth.
“Hey,” You said in an almost scolding tone, “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” But as your cousin set down the plates in between you, shooting you a suggestive wink, you couldn’t protest much more. They really did look really good, and you’d skipped breakfast…andlunch…
“I wasn’t going to just eat and let you go hungry,” He said, with a pout in his tone—like a puppy. It was too much for your heart, so you caved—not that you were going to fight against the croissant much anyway, but you took the plate anyway, sliding it over to your side of the table, as he took his one.
“Thank you,” You said graciously, shyly, “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” He said, cheeks dimpling, “Let’s eat. This is my favourite croissant from here.”
“You’re a regular here?” You said, genuinely surprised, “I hadn’t realised.”
“I’m a dancer and our studio is just around the corner,” He explained, as he took a bite and gestured for you to do the same. He chewed with his mouth closed—which you appreciated very much—and swallowed before continuing, “My friends and I come here a lot. They were going to a party though, and I didn’t feel up to it so I just decided to get something to eat instead.” He shot you a wink, “And you happened to be here. Better than any party could have been.”
“And now we’re here,” You said, doing your best to fight off the blush, even as your heart pounded, “You’re being very smooth for someone I met five minutes ago, you know?”
“Five minutes?” He pretended to look affronted, glancing at his watch, “Excuse me, it’s been a solid eleven minutes, thank you.”
“Eleven minutes,” You said flatly, raising a brow and taking another bite of your croissant, “Same difference.”
“I thought youwere the smart one here,” He said, humouring you, “Seems almost like,” He paused, pretending to count on his fingers, and you interrupted him when he got to his ninth finger.
“You won’t have enough,” You said, in that baby-tone that you would use to speak to a puppy—jokingly, “Trust me. There’s a solid ten fingers and eleven minutes won’t fit on there.” You patted his hand and he scrunched his nose.
“I have toes, too, you know,” He said through his pout and shining, amused eyes, “That makes twenty.”
The conversation was going so well—you would have liked to stay there for hours just talking, because it really was a nice break from all the work you had been doing, but it wasn’t five minutes later that your aunt burst through the back door and offered you to go upstairs for a quiet place to study.
You were going to decline—you really were, but she had apparently called ahead and asked your cousin to make you a coffee already, which was already upstairs, so you couldn’t say no. Your aunt was sweet, really, and she just wanted to help you out. It was well-appreciated, but…you glanced at the brown-haired, pretty boy as you stood to leave.
“Well, since you’re a regular, I’ll see you around, right?” You said, running a hand through your ponytail and giving him a smile.
“Yeah, you will,” He said, grinning softly, “Happy studying.”
It wasn’t until you were already upstairs, and halfway through your introduction paragraph for your essay due in three days that you realised you never asked the guy for his number, or his name, for that matter. But when you rushed downstairs to check if he was still there, his seat was empty—only two empty, strawberry-jam-stained plates remained on the tabletop.
***
The day after your last exam, you decided to take on Jimin’s advice. Your best friend gave plenty of advice, regularly, in his constant rants about all sorts of things, but today you were at the animal shelter to adopt a puppy.
Although you hadn’t thought much of it when Jimin had suggested it to you, after a few days you’d decided it was probably a good idea to adopt a puppy—especially now that you were done with school. Your apartment building allowed a small dog anyway, and you thought it would be very nice to have a companion.
It did get lonely sometimes.
There were a few in a pen on the floor, where a couple of kids were watching the dogs excitedly, reaching into the pen while a few of the volunteer workers frantically stopped them with strained smiles.
It was a weekday, so you’d expected that the shelter wouldn’t be so crowded so that you could stay for longer without feeling claustrophobic, but it was unexpectedly quite filled—that wasn’t going to stop you today, though. You were on a mission.
Unable to restrain the urge to cuddle a puppy, you began to make your way over, and upon glimpsing the cluster of fluff rolling around the pen your heart melted. There were two, in particular, who were particularly close to where you were standing, a bit separated from the other bunch, and you knelt down to get a closer look.
They were little Pomeranian puppies, you noted, as you cooed at the way the two dogs both looked up at you with their (literal) glowing, puppy-dog eyes. One in particular, the slightly bigger one with a less symmetrical face (but equally as cute), got up and sniffed at you, and you ‘awwed’ aloud, unable to hold back. You knelt down by the pen and reached in a hand gently and slowly, for the little puppy to sniff at.
A volunteer worker quickly approached you—a nice-looking woman who gave you a warm smile, “These two are brothers. Do you want to hold them?”
“Oh, yes, please,” You said eagerly, glancing up to meet her eyes even though it was almost impossible to tear your gaze from the little puppies, “Um, can I hold the bigger one first?”
“Of course,” The woman said, picking up the puppy with ease, “He’s really good. Cheerful and very friendly, I think you’d get along with him.”
You hummed as she passed the puppy to you, and the Pomeranian snuggled into your arms as you stroked his black-and-orange fur. Immediately, you were in love—how could you not be? The little dog was too endearing, and he started whining when you stopped petting him to get a better look at his cute little face.
However, it wasn’t long before his brother, the smaller but practically identical Pomeranian, who was left in the pen, started whining—and you couldn’t keep them apart anymore.
Instantly, the problem hit you. This puppy was it for you—he was the one you wanted, but…there was no way you’d be able to take in two dogs with the restrictions that your apartment building had on pets, and also just your budget and time. But…you couldn’t find it in yourself to separate the two.
Especially when you put the puppy back and his brother snuggled right back into his side, nudging him with his button nose.
Heaving a sigh, you forced yourself up to your feet and told the woman, “I don’t think I can adopt them both…”
“Ah, well,” She said, with a comforting smile and patting you on the shoulder, “There are always other puppies!”
And then she was gone, off to help somebody else, but your mind was still consumed by the thought of the Pomeranian puppy and his smaller brother. You knew you had to leave; there was no way you could adopt two dogs—
You didn’t even want to entertain that idea and tempt yourself. It was too much, but…the little puppy was still looking up at you and it was too much for your weak heart to leave him.
So instead of making any sort of decision, you just decided to sit there, thinking, and stroking both of the Pomeranians longingly, trying to figure out a solution.
You were sure you were there for so long that the volunteers started giving you strange looks.
It must’ve been almost an hour later when somebody sat down next to you. Their presence didn’t even register in your mind; you were lost in thought and absently stroking the now-asleep dogs, but then they spoke.
“They’re cute, right?”
For a second you thought it was another volunteer worker, and you prepared yourself to apologise and explain that you couldn’t take both—you didn’t want to look away from the puppies, so instead you glanced at the stranger’s shoes, noting that they weren’t the compulsory boots the volunteers had to wear, and your well-rehearsed (not really) rant was stopped before it escaped your mouth.
“Oh, yeah, they really are,” You said instead, sighing deeply, “But I can’t take both so I’ve been sitting here for ages just trying to decide what to do. They’re too cute but they’re brothers and my apartment building only allows—,” and then you cut yourself off, realising that you were sharing too much information. When you glanced up, finally, though, your eyes widened, “Wait, you’re the strawberry-croissant guy from the café?”
“Strawberry-croissant guy?” He said with an amused gleam in his eyes, “I guess I am. You’re the girl who’s studying English and wants to leave Korea after graduation, huh?”
“Yeah,” You said, suddenly feeling elated at seeing this guy again, “Sorry for rambling to you just then.”
“No, it’s really okay,” He said, his expression genuinely interested, and your heart warmed when he motioned for you to continue.
You cleared your throat, feeling a bit embarrassed but encouraged, “I’m only allowed to have one dog, but I can’t separate them and I’m in love with this guy,” you pointed at the slightly bigger puppy, the one you were in love with, “So I’ve just sat here for an hour.”
“Well,” He said after a brief moment of silence, reaching a hand in to pet the other puppy—the smaller one, “I think I have a solution for you.” The puppy sniffed at his hand and then practically leapt in, fitting perfectly into his palm.
“He likes you,” You cooed, picking up the larger puppy and taking him into your lap, where you sat cross-legged on the floor. The guy did the same, and so you each had a small Pomeranian cuddled up to you.
“I’d say the same about yours,” He said, his eyes creasing into a smile, “I’m Taehyung, by the way. I can’t believe I didn’t get your name the other day.”
“I’m Y/N,” You said eagerly, “And he’s not mine yet.”
“I’ll adopt Tannie if you adopt yours,” Taehyung said, looking down at the little puppy in his lap affectionately, “So they won’t be apart from each other.”
“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows, looking to your side to meet his eyes, “We don’t live together…um, right?”
“Yeah, I know, I’m pretty sure we don’t—,” He suddenly started sounding a bit flustered as he avoided your gaze, “I mean, like, if we each take one of them then we can let them meet and have little dog dates for them? I mean, if you’d like…” He bit his lip nervously, eyes finally flitting up to gauge your reaction.
You smiled, endeared by his adorableness, “Of course, I’d love that. And, wait—you already named him?”
A smile brightened Taehyung’s face again, and although you couldn’t see his mouth, it was obvious he was happy by the way his eyes lit up, “Yeah, I chose a name on the way here. Yeontan. How about yours?”
“I haven’t actually chosen one,” You said, suddenly feeling sheepish. Were you supposed to name your dog beforehand? “I’ve never owned a dog before so I don’t know how that all works.”
He chortled, bumping you with his shoulder, “Y/N, you just choose a name. There’s nothing special about it.”
“Hey, it’s special for me,” You said defensively, though you felt the heat rise to your cheeks when he scrunched his face jokingly and responded, “It’s like adopting a child, isn’t it?”
You sighed dramatically as you glanced down at your puppy, your new child, “It really is.”
***
y/n: i named my puppy
taehyung: finally! what did you decide on? i was getting all tongue-tied calling him ‘the big one out of the two small pomeranians we decided to adopt together’
y/n: his name is byeol :)
taehyung: ahhhh cute
taehyung: tannie’s been whiney lately :(
y/n: aw, why? byeol’s been good so far
taehyung: he misses his big brother, he wants to go to the dog park with him
y/n: lmao so now you understand dog hm?
taehyung: hey hey you understand english and i understand dog, people are different okay?
y/n: of course of course, there’s no judgement here lol
y/n: dog park by the café tomorrow, noon?
taehyung: how about this afternoon? three?
y/n: okay
y/n: you’re too smooth it’s unfair
taehyung: see you there ;)
Setting your phone on your bedside table, you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips and you let out a little giggle. Even Byeol, curled up in your lap, seemed intrigued by whatever had made you happy, and he lifted his head to nudge your hand.
“We’re gonna go see Tannie,” You cooed to him, scratching his head gently, “Do you miss your little brother?”
In answer, Byeol’s eyes lit up, and you laughed as he started doing excited laps around your bed. Having a companion was definitely worth it.
You didn’t know why but an hour later, at 2:30pm, you found yourself staring at your closet for much longer than you had anticipated. At this point, you wouldn’t make it to the dog park on time to meet Taehyung. You didn’t even know why you felt the need to even entertain the idea of dressing up—you never would have even considered it on any other trip to the park but for somereason your mind was deciding to be stupid—
Frustrated, you let out a groan and Byeol, who had been circling your feet for the past ten minutes you had been standing at your closet, turned his head up at you curiously.
“Byeol-ie,” You grumbled, sitting down on the carpet and tugging your little puppy into a hug, “I can’t find clothes to wear.”
Of course, Byeol didn’t reply—he was focused on cuddling into your arms and you didn’t object. You would never object to cuddles with Byeol. He was super soft and far too cute to be true, and your frustration was immediately forgotten as you nuzzled your face into Byeol’s fur, “I love you, Byeol-ie.”
In the end, you collected yourself, sucked it up and just picked some damn clothes, put Byeol on his leash and then began the walk to the park.
It was just Taehyung. Right? Yeah.
Byeol was a good distraction from your thoughts—what even were these thoughts? No, there were no thoughts. No thoughts. Definitely none about Taehyung. None about his pretty eyes or his curly hair. Or his boxy smile. Or—
sdlkfjskdlfjdkfjlsdfjsdfksjdlfsdfqeejiwofksfdl
No more of that.
You focused on Byeol, who was absolutely giddy with energy. He was bounding around in all directions, although you kept his leash at a safe length so he wouldn’t run onto the road or get lost somewhere. His excitement seriously reflected that of a small child and it was super endearing.
You got to the dog park at five past three, and spotted Taehyung immediately, on his phone, sitting on one of the benches, already in the little dog pen that they had for the small dogs.
He glanced up every few seconds to check on Yeontan, but the little puppy was waiting at his feet, looking around shyly every time he looked up (or rather, down). He kept trying to encourage the little pomeranian to interact with the other dogs, but Yeontan was adamant on waiting, which made you giggle.
You took a quick look at him and noticed that he had on one of those black headbands that athletic people wore, his bangs tucked over it, hair catching the sunlight in just the right way that made it look sparkly.
Almost exactly at that moment, you got a text from him:
taehyung: i’m here, are you close?
y/n: look up, to your left :)
He glanced up and when he caught sight of you, his face immediately lit up with a boxy grin, and you waved at him, a laugh spilling from your lips. Byeol spotted him then, and immediately he started barking excitedly and tugging on the leash to meet Yeontan.
Finally, tugged along by Byeol (who was surprisingly verystrong when he was excited), you approached him and pushed open the gate to the dog pen. Once the gate was securely shut again, you unclipped Byeol from his leash and he was bounding off immediately off to Yeontan. Said puppy had also started barking and running towards Byeol instantly—and when the two dogs met in the middle they excitedly circled each other and seemed to converse with each other very happily.
You went over to Taehyung, and you spoke first, “Hey! Sorry, I got caught up at one of the crossings.”
“It’s okay,” He replied with a smile, putting an arm over your shoulder and squeezing you close for a second, before letting you go, which surprised you—it made your heart spin in a way you weren’t sure how to interpret, “I thought you were going to ditch me for a sec,” He joked lightly.
“I’m sorry,” You said genuinely, meeting his eyes, “I wouldn’t ditch you, Byeol was way too excited for me to not come. The moment I told him we were going to see Tannie he was practically out the door.”
“Tannie was too shy to play with any other dogs,” Taehyung said with a little chuckle, “He really missed his brother. Thank you for coming.”
“It’s okay, I wanted to,” You said with a half-smile, “I like talking to you.”
“I like talking to you, too,” He said sincerely, his eyes gleaming euphorically at your words, “You’re good at talking.” He suddenly did a double-take, “Sorry, that was really strangely-worded lmao I think I—,”
You burst out laughing, “Did you seriously just say ‘lmao’ out loud?”
He flushed, “Sorry, it’s a habit, I talk to Tannie like I’m texting him, so I just um, slipped, I’m sorry that was really weird.”
“It’s okay, it’s kind of cute,” You said, unable to hold back your giggles, “I think it’s weird but in a cute way, you know?”
“Um, I think?” He said, his cheeks still rosy, “I think I get what you mean. You’re weird in a cute way, too—damn, I screwed up again didn’t I—,”
Suddenly feeling brave, you silenced him by taking his face gently in your hands, taking a brief second to admire the way his eyes shone in the golden sunlight, before you leant up and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft and nice and more than enough to make your heart skip a beat—or two, or three. He put an arm around your waist gently, and although the kiss was completely innocent, the feeling of his lips on yours made you feel weak in the knees. Suddenly you were thankful that you were sitting, or you would most certainly have lost your balance.
When you pulled away, a few seconds later, you were exhilarated and there was a long silence where you stayed in his arms, breathing soft, until he broke it and murmured, “Your eyes are so pretty in the sun.”  
Before you could respond, a pair of pomeranians called Yeontan and Byeol who ran into your legs, yapping excitedly as they hopped around each other.
Catching your breath, you leant down and picked Byeol up, immediately cooing, “Aww, little Byeol-ie wants to play!” He excitedly licked at your hands, his eyes wide and almost smiling, “I love you Byeol-ie, aww, yeah, I love you—,” you kissed his head and he barked happily. Setting him down carefully, you told Taehyung, meeting his eyes but suddenly feeling a bit shy, “I think they want to play.”
He was looking at you already, a smile in his eyes, and he replied, “How about we take them on a walk on the way to froyo?”
“We’re getting froyo?” You said, eyes widening—you tried not to make it obvious, but based on the way Taehyung’s expression changed to one of pure amusement, you assumed that you weren’t successful in hiding your immediate excitement, “I love froyo! Do they allow puppies though?”
“I know the owners so we can just bring them in,” Taehyung said reassuringly, and you were on your feet in an instant, clasping Byeol’s leash back onto his collar.
“Let’s go, then,” You said, cheeks dimpling into a smile, “Come on, Byeol-ie!”
Too distracted by the thought of frozen yoghurt, you missed Taehyung’s adoring gaze as he watched you skip over to the gate.
***
The froyo shop was very cute—it was small, kind of like your aunt’s café, but it was set up like an icecream shop. After ensuring that Byeol and Yeontan were secure and their leashes were looped onto one of the poles right on the doorstep of the shop, you excitedly rushed to get into the shop. The fruity smell immediately engulfed you. It had been a long time since you’d gotten any sort of dessert, and the thought of eating frozen yoghurt made you more excited than you would have liked to admit.
But when you looked up, your jaw dropped—
“Y/N, what?”
“Jimin?”
Sure enough, your best friend—Park Jimin, the one and only, your classmate and tutor and advice-giver, was standing behind the counter, his eyes wide. And then, his gaze drifted to the figure behind you—Taehyung, and Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed.
“You two know each other?” Jimin said, astonished, “I didn’t realise you’d ever even met.”
“We met a week and a bit ago,” Taehyung said, putting a hand on the small of your back and encouraging you to approach the counter, probably so that you could actually start looking at the flavours, “We adopted dogs together. Are we allowed to bring them in, by the way? Tannie and Byeol are waiting outside.”
“You have dogs? You don’t live together, do you? Wait, Y/N, how could you go to the animal shelter without bringing me?” Jimin said, looking affronted.
“I just took your advice about getting a puppy,” You said, still in shock, “Why are you at a froyo shop? And how do you know Taehyung?”
“I’m a dancer, remember? We dance together, and his dad owns this shop,” Taehyung explained.
“You dance?” You spun to face Jimin, drowned in surprise, and Jimin exclaimed, “Y/N, dude, I’ve told you before, I swear I have.”
“Okay, to be honest you probably have,” You sighed, reminding yourself that you had a terrible memory and it was more likely that you’d forgotten—to be honest. Not only that, but the topic of dancing didn’t come up often with Jimin; since it wasn’t something you had in common. But still—Seoul was a pretty damn big city, how did thishappen?
“Bring the dogs in, I need to meet them immediately. You can put them in the backyard,” Jimin demanded, before motioning for the two of you to come forward, “What flavour of froyo do you want?”
***
The next week, you were sitting with Jimin on campus at school, during break. It had been a pretty lazy week for you, since most of your assessments were finished and these were just conclusion lessons for you. You’d had much more time to take care of Byeol, and also—of course—Yeontan, and by extension also talk to Taehyung.
“So, wait, I don’t see you for like two weeks and you made outwith my dance partner andadopted a dog with him? And you didn’ttellme?” Jimin exclaimed—his tone teasing, as he took a bite out of his sandwich.
“We didn’t make out,” You sighed, even though you knew it was useless—Jimin was very stubborn about teasing you, “And I would have told you when I saw you next. On a much more important note, why didn’t you tell me you owned a froyo shop? You knowI love froyo.”
“I literally did,” He rolled his eyes, tone light, “Your memory just sucks, Y/N. I can’t believe my two best friends betrayedme and got together.”
“Jimin, I didn’t even know you were friends with Taehyung,” You said, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I swear I’ve told you,” Jimin began, but you rolled your eyes playfully.
“Oh, stop using that excuse, I know my memory doesn’t suck thatmuch,” You said with a scoff, narrowing your eyes jokingly, and Jimin laughed, “You can’t get away with everything, Jimin-ie.”
Before he could respond, your phone lit up, and Jimin was immediately leaning over eagerly, “It’s Taehyung, isn’t it? I swear you two are always texting.” He returned to eating his sandwich as he waited for you to finish texting Taehyung back.
taehyung: i’m at the pet shop, how many cans of dog food do we need
y/n: i need three and you need four so
taehyung: but i can’t use my fingers to add them up :( i’m texting you with my fingers
y/n: use your toes, remember you have twenty in total?
taehyung: dang it i knew you were the smart one
You giggled before switching your phone off and finally opening your bag to pull out the lunch that you had bought for yourself this morning—two strawberry croissants.
The sunlight was soft and nice and pretty; the thought brightened your face with a smile, especially when your phone lit up with a new text:
taehyung: dog park by the café, 3pm?
101 notes · View notes
jasontoddiefor · 4 years
Note
can i have some jason and tim bonding? thank you! p.s. what is your ao3 so that i can follow you
Of course, you can if you ask so nicely! My AO3 is in my description as well, but here’s a link!
“So, Tim, you know that you’re my absolute favorite brother even though Duke saved me breakfast this morning?”
Tim looked up from his laptop and found Jason standing in his door. He had expected the other to be leaning against the door frame, sporting a mischievous smirk, but instead the smile Jason was sporting looked strained and forced. There was nothing relaxed in his posture and Tim forced himself to sit still instead of rushing over to Jason’s side. Jason broke easily if he felt threatened and to him everyone perceiving him as weak and in need of help was a threat.
“I may be convinced if you brought me-“ Tim couldn’t even finish his sentence as Jason already fished a small box out of his backpack and closed the door behind him. He threw the box at Tim, who caught it carefully, and dragged his desk chair over to the bed Tim was sitting on.
“You came prepared,” Tim observed and opened the box with the floral print. Inside, he found a note, written quickly in the handwriting of Tim’s favorite person in Little Italy, the owner of a small patisserie with the best sweets.
“Yes, of course,” Jason retorted sharply, then winced. “Sorry.”
Tim put the first macaron in his mouth and suppressed a moan. Yeah, still the best. Steph was going to be so jealous he had gotten another batch and hadn’t shared it with her.
“So,” Tim said when he’d swallowed. “How can I be of service?”
Jason bit on his cheek and leaned back in the chair. He was already a head taller than Tim, he didn’t need to make himself seem even bigger. He was acting defensively.
“You’re kinda good with photos, right?”
Tim stared at Jason, then slowly turned his laptop so that Jason could see the editing program he was currently running.
“Yes,” Tim said drily. “I’m ‘kinda good’ with photos.”
“Okay, good, great. So you can make photos better? Their quality, I mean.”
“Sure.”
Jason mustered the screen of Tim’s laptop a little longer, not saying a word. Then he sighed and Tim wasn’t able to tell whether he did it because he was giving up or had assembled all his courage. Once more Jason reached for his backpack and took out another box. This one looked much older, dirty and used. He took off its lid and set it on the bed, pushing it over to Tim.
Tim glanced at Jason once, checking if it was alright, then peaked inside the box. To no surprise, he found photos. They were old and damaged, and the quality wasn’t anywhere near Tim’s standards, but Jason obviously cared about them.
“Can you also fix those?”
Tim took out one photo. It depicted a tired-looking woman, holding onto a toddler with messy black hair and bright blue eyes- oh.
Tim had seen a photo of Catherine Todd in Jason’s files, but this was completely different.
“Of course, I can,” Tim assured him. “I’ll get started right away.”
Jason let out the breath he’d been holding and deflated. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Do you want to stay?”
“If it’s no problem?”
“Not at all,” Tim replied and made space on his giant bed. “Get me my scanner from my desk and I’ll show you ‘kinda good with photos’. These will look as if they’d been taken by a professional in a studio.”
And they did.
152 notes · View notes
sopewriters · 4 years
Text
Mιɳԃ Gαɱҽʂ | 02
Summary: With a murderer prowling the streets, and a charming villain on the loose, all bets are off.
Pairing: Jaehhyun X Reader; Hero x Villain AU
Word Count: 4.9K
Warning(s): None yet.
Previous: 01
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“Joker.” His name leaves your parted lips in single breathless whisper.
He grins at you, having heard it anyway, and steps closer. At your side, Mark tenses up. “Right in one. Mind if we had ourselves a little chat?”
You frown, immediately suspicious. Everything in you screams at you not to take the man in front of you lightly, knowing just how tricky he can be; plus, the fact that he’s come to you is really rubbing you the wrong way. Why would a villain ever approach a hero? Or, well, a vigilante, in your case, but your point still stands.
“That depends.” Mark finally answers for you, seeing as how your eyes are still narrowed at Joker’s still form. “What makes you want to talk, all of a sudden?”
“Gravitas.” Joker’s smile grows a little sharper, less cheerful. “Don’t tell me you’re still hung up over what happened last time. You’re the one who ran into that billboard, you know; I really had nothing to do with that one.”
Mark’s body thrums with tension, muscles pulled taut, and despite your terse conversation, you reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder. Getting him strung up right now is a bad idea, especially because he’s usually the one calming you down and there’s nothing in the manual for it happening the other way around.
“Yeah, well, could you get to the point, maybe?” You pull away from Mark, crossing your arms threateningly. “Listening to you beat around the bush like this is really starting to tire me out.”
“Your guy started it first.” Joker says with an exaggerated shrug; mostly for your benefit. “But, if you insist, I’ll move on. You have always been extraordinarily straightforward.”
The muscles of your legs tense as he scrutinizes the two of you, prepared for every possibility if things went south. Joker must like what he sees, because a little smile quirks the corner of his lips, making him look, all too suddenly, very attractive.
You flush immediately at the thought, grateful for the darkness and your shadows for keeping the blush from being visible on your burning cheeks. Where the hell did that come from?
“I’ve been looking into the both of you.” He admits easily, and all thoughts of his appearance fly out the window. “Our last encounter was pretty interesting, even if it was laughably easy – maybe because stupid Gemini didn’t show up, for once.”
Under the feelings of offence that immediately sprout up, you register that he must be talking about Mark’s superhero idol. Based on the way Mark clenches his fists, this is most likely true.
“Yeah, it must be pretty difficult for you, what with him always foiling your plans.” Mark shrugs delicately, voice suddenly cool. It sends a ripple of shockwaves through you because wow, you’ve never heard this tone of voice from him. He’s always been too – too bubbly. Joker must really be pushing his buttons. “I can understand that.”
Joker finally frowns, for the first time tonight, stepping back. And while the sight should fill you with delight, it doesn’t. It makes you feel a little guilty, actually, and you have no idea why.
“I’m starting to see I should’ve thought this through.” He tilts his head slightly, meeting your eyes. Despite how penetrating it is, you do your best to meet his stare unwaveringly; though, admittedly, it’s a lot harder than you thought it’d be. “Maybe I should try and come by again some other time.”
His smirk is sharp enough to cut, but his eyes... they look sad. “For the only competent one of the two of you, obviously. Wouldn’t want to waste my time talking to a stick in the mud.”
With that, he vanishes – yet another illusion. Unlike last time, however, you’re expecting it and, so, don’t bat an eyelash at his sudden disappearance.
Instead, you turn to Mark, finding him clenching his jaw in obvious frustration. You shouldn’t be able to see that even through the mask, but it stands out prominently and, admittedly, has you a little concerned. Why is this bothering Mark so much? You’ve seen him take more serious ribbing with a smile.
At your questioning gaze, Mark’s posture eventually loosens up and he sighs, shaking his head. “I – I’m sorry. I should – I should probably go, huh?”
“Not when I’m the one giving us a lift back.” You raise a brow, perturbed by the sudden 180. “You want to talk about what that was, back there?”
“Not really, no.” Mark’s eyes are beginning to glaze over from the cold breeze. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s just… something about that guy really rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t take anything seriously? It frustrates me that he has the nerve to badmouth J-Gemini when he’s a villain.”
“We’re not really the type to have warm, mushy feelings for the superheroes either,” you point out, though with a sigh you do admit, “I do see your point, though.”
You really only add that last bit for Mark’s benefit. Even though he’d never admit it to you, what he has for Gemini is nothing short of, well, hero worship. And it still doesn’t make sense to you that he’d get that offended over it, what with the constant debates over superheroes on the news. They’ve said worse about Gemini.
Letting his excuse slide for now, you decide to move onto the next most important thing. “What should we do about Joker, though?”
Mark just barely lifts up his mask to rub at his face. “I don’t know. He said he’s going to come to you, didn’t he?”
“He did.” You confirm, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “I guess I’ll be fine; he didn’t seem like he was going to try to pull anything stupid.”
“He’s still dangerous.” Mark reminds you, beginning to look a little concerned himself. “Maybe we should ask for help? I know you don’t like involving actual superheroes, but—”
“Then you know my answer.” You say stiffly. “I’ll wait for Joker to contact with me whenever. For now, let’s go find some people to help.”
Your fingers twitch sporadically against their resting spot on your thighs as you force yourself not to think about it – about heroes and their stupid, unwavering morality.
And their mortality.
When Mark moves to say something, you hold up your hand. “You can’t change my mind, so don’t even try. Leave it alone.”
Mark pauses, blinking lightly.
“I was just going to say that I’m looking forward to, uh, beating some people up.” He’s probably smiling timidly at you from behind his mask. “Want to race to see who can stop more crimes tonight?”
Now this is more like it. It provides you with ample distraction – probably enough to last you the rest of the night.
“It won’t be much of a competition if we know who’s going to win.” You grin at him, bad mood almost entirely forgotten. “Meet you at the clock tower in an hour!”
“Oh, it’s on.”
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When you slip back into your room, shadows melting away your suit and replacing it with the clothes you were wearing earlier – shorts and a comfortable t-shirt – you immediately chance a glance over your shoulder. There’s no way you could have been followed, what with traveling through the shadows, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.
Besides… ever since you’ve taken up vigilantism, it’s been getting harder and harder to fall asleep. The shadows are your allies, but they seem to creep in on you as you lie in bed, looming tall and making it difficult to breathe. They whisper at you, taunt you; they question everything you’ve done, every choice you’ve made.
Was it really for the best? They murmur into your ears, poison. You could’ve done better. You know you should’ve.
For that reason, you resolutely choose to crawl into bed and not sleep until you can no longer put it off; at least, then, you won’t have to listen to them.
You crack open your laptop, typing in your long, elaborate password – hello, paranoia – before biting your lip. Your cursor, the source of your conundrum, hovers uncertainly over your browser window as your eyes dart between it and the video file you’ve minimized for later.
Said video may or may not have been ripped from the police tape you had, uh, borrowed earlier. It’s not stealing if you’ve given it back.
But the point is… should you? It’s incredibly tempting, to be honest, to just do away with the tape for one night and spend time perusing Netflix instead. The more you think about it, the more you like the idea. Yeah, you should definitely do that.
Satisfied with your apt decision-making, you settle back into your pillows, pulling up Netflix and setting yourself up to marathon the second season of How to Get Away with Murder. It’s going to be a long night, sure – but at least it’s going to be an enjoyable one.
Somewhere through the season, you realize a little blearily that there’s some weird buzzing noise filling the air. Frowning, you reluctantly pause the episode and grope around your bed until you find your phone; funnily enough, it’s pretty much under your butt.
Blinking at the harsh light that comes from your screen, you quickly lower the brightness before actually reading the notification.
Jung Jaehyun, it reads. Regarding Open Lab Positions.
Your eyebrows fly up, and you quickly squash down the sudden excitement that flares up in you; there’s obviously no way he’s sent this email to just you, and you have no idea why you’re getting this worked up over it. You open the email anyway.
 Hello all!
As I’m sure you’re aware, Professor Kim has a couple of volunteer lab positions open starting next quarter, if any of you are interested. As she explained at the end of last class, you’ll be starting off with basic jobs – cleaning equipment, etc. – but will slowly work up to actually assisting other researchers – like myself! – with laboratory procedures. If you feel this is something that you could do, please send in your resumé to my email, in a separate thread.
Cheers,
Jaehyun
 Holding back a snort at his closing phrase, you evaluate your options.
You’ve worked at a couple of labs before, so you know for a fact that you can do this. It’s just… cleaning things up? You’ve been there and done that and, while you still have to do it even once you’ve worked your way up, that doesn’t mean you want it to be the only thing you do. But, well. Building experience is important, isn’t it?
You ignore the tiny voice in your head that (correctly) informs you that you’re doing this because of Jaehyun. That’s – psh – that’s absolutely ridiculous. Totally.
It’s for your work experience and nothing else, shut up.
You quickly pull up your resumé and give it a lazy once-over – something you would normally never do – because you’re honestly just too tired to give it a deeper glance. Waiting until tomorrow gives your rationality a great opportunity to kick in, which you’re not particularly keen on; plus, you’ll probably give in and ask F/N, who will definitely say no.
You quickly compose a short email saying you’re super interested and would love to join the team; you nearly forget to add the attachment but, thankfully, you end up remembering just as you’re about to send it.
There. You’ve done it. You’ll probably regret it in the morning, but… you’ve done it, and that’s what matters, obviously.
Sighing, you put away your laptop. You’re tired enough to fall asleep now, you think, and a cup of coffee in the morning will fix whatever lingering regrets this burning the night oil has left you with.
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It turns out that not even a cup of coffee can help your mood this morning. And it’s not just because of the idiotic decision you made last night either.
“Did you hear?” F/N accosts you first thing, latching onto your arm as you take your first sip of salvation. “About what happened last night?”
You squint at her, taking in her pale face, trembling lips. “No, and I don’t particularly care. I have a 9am to go to, so if—”
“There was a murder.” The words die on your tongue, the bitterness of coffee all-too-suddenly exploding in your mouth when F/N meets your eyes, serious. “Last night, someone was murdered.”
You nearly drop your cup, setting it down faintly. “What?”
“Yeah.” F/N worries her bottom lip, glancing off to the side, looking decidedly pale. “There are pictures all over the internet. There were even some on our school’s SNS, but they’re being taken down as soon as they’re popping up.”
“And?” Your eyes are wide, but you’re giving this your full attention, headache be damned.
F/N exhales through her teeth. “It… it wasn’t pretty. They’re saying that the victim was dead after the first strike – but there are so many wounds on him… stab wounds, but not from a knife.”
She looks vaguely sick as she recalls this and you figure it has to be a really gruesome sight, if it’s unsettling her this much. You’re starting to feel a little nauseous yourself as you realize you were out for a good part of the night – and you didn’t see anything happen.
“Which sector was it in?” You ask hurriedly. “Did they say who did it?”
“Our sector.” She confirms your worst fears and fuck, fuck, fuck, you should’ve – you should’ve been there, should’ve been able to do something. “And, they think… well. Hold on.”
She hurriedly pulls out her phone, pulling up a news site as your heart thunders loudly in your ears, before showing you an image of the victim.
Your eyes grow wide, not at the smears of blood that stain the women’s skin – nor the angry, deep wounds littering her throat – but at the patch of burnt flesh right above her left breastbone. A vivid, elaborate J.
“Joker…” You breathe out horrified, head spinning at the implications. “What – but – no, that doesn’t make sense!”
“I thought so too, but it’s his mark and everything!” F/N looks just as anxious as you feel. “It’s exactly like the one on his calling card and, and – and—”
“And what?” You snap harshly when she flounders, before horror rushes through you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you!”
“I know, it’s okay. This is pretty… disturbing.” It is, but not for the reasons she’s thinking. F/N swallows before adding, softly. “They think something must have pissed Joker off pretty bad that he – that he resorted to this.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.” You stare in disbelief at her. You might not know Joker pretty well, but isn’t this just too much? “He’s – he’s just a thief! A mastermind criminal, to be fair, but he’s never murdered people before.”
“Well, people change, don’t they?” F/N says, matter-of-fact. “I’m not saying I believe he’s done this, but… what if he has?” She begins to look a little pale again at the implication, and shakes her head. “I think I’m going to take a breather. I’ll catch you after classes.”
You can’t find it in you to respond, mind whirling with the possibilities. What F/N said is stuck in your head, on a dizzying loop.
What if, what if, what if, what if he has, what if—
What if Joker’s the one who really did it? Your hands tremble as you realize that this happened last night; that too, after he came to see you and Mark. You tuck your fingers into fists as you desperately wrack your brain for any signs you could’ve noticed to prevent this. Was he shaky, pale in any way? Was he behaving erratically?
You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration when you realize there’s no way you could know; you’re not – you’re not acquainted enough with Joker for that. Fucking damn it, damn it, then why’d he come to see you? To ask for help… help doing what? Murdering someone?
That doesn’t sound—
“Hey, uh, could you maybe move? You’re kind of in the way.”
You blink at the sudden interruption, eyes growing wide as you register a weight on your shoulders – your backpack – and the chilliness of the breeze against your skin. You’re outside? Another glance tells you that you’re right outside your lecture hall and that, yes, you really are blocking the way.
You stumble aside, breaths stuttering in your chest as you realize you have no idea how the fuck you got here, but. Maybe you just zoned out? That’s got to be it. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Mentally shaking yourself, you start walking into class, wondering how on earth you managed to think so hard about the Joker problem that you didn’t even notice walking all the way to class. You wouldn’t put it past yourself; sometimes you get really lost in thought. Still, you shouldn’t be as preoccupied as you are about this. There’s just something… something about it that begs for your attention.
You snap yourself back to attention as your professor walks into the room.
“We’re going to be starting on the subject of Icarus – and his fall.” He claps his had together cheerfully, pulling up the appropriate slide on the projector. Finally. “Pay attention guys; you’re going to want to, trust me, because your paper on this is going to count for 15% of your grade.”
That certainly warrants some serious focus, and you adjust yourself in your seat, new document sat ready for you to type some pretty detailed notes into your laptop.
Your professor smirks at the rustling that fills the room, as everyone panics and hurries to do what he’s asked. “Great. So, as always, we aren’t going to read the whole thing out in class – that’s for your TA to do – but we’ll discuss the key ideas that crop up throughout…”
You try to pay attention, you really do, but it’s not your fault that your professor’s voice is so sleep-inducing (though it is your fault for also not getting a full eight hours in last night like you were supposed to).
Your eyes flutter weakly, finally drifting shut.
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You dream of hands. The run up along your sides, gentle even as they caress you – before their grip tightens by a fraction. Something warm curls over the skin of your throat as teeth graze over your shoulder. Your own hands come up to cradle his head as he mouths at the juncture of your shoulder, hot and insistent – and you tilt your head back, encouraging him.
“You’ve always been so beautiful.” The reverence in his tone lights a fire under your skin, in between your legs. “My darling Nyx, so fucking gorgeous.”
You don’t get to answering him, because his fingers are slipping between your thighs to caress your clit gently, making you gasp and arch into the touch. He feels so good, familiar in the way his free hand rubs circles into your hip as he slowly takes you apart on his fingers.
“Please…” The words fall from your lips easily, and you cant your hips desperately, aching to have his fingers inside of you already.
“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart.” There’s a smirk in his voice – you could recognize it in your sleep. “Look at you, absolutely stunning. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a slut for my cock.”
His fingers pull aside your underwear, finally dipping into your hole. Sweet, sweet relief courses through you as the heat in your veins grows unbearable, and you spread your legs wider, trying to encourage him to touch you more, take you – every part of you, anything he wants.
“Ah, I forgot.” He sounds smug, but he’s still so incredibly hot, even as he retracts his fingers, making a choked whine catch in your throat. “You are a slut for it, aren’t you? You’re even trying to ride my fingers, you’re so desperate.”
He’s right, he always is. You don’t care anymore for your pride or your dignity – you just need his hands on you, his mouth, his fingers, his cock. You need all of him.
“You make it so fucking hard to hold back.” He growls upon seeing your eyes dilate in pleasure, pinching your clit and allowing a strangled moan to escape your throat. “Shh now, darling; wouldn’t want to get caught, now, would we?”
“C-Caught?” You whimper as he catches your skin with his teeth, gently tugging at it, marking you – like you’re his, you think a little deliriously. “W-What?”
He pulls back then, though you fruitlessly try to pull him close again; as he does, his features are slowly illuminated by the light of the moon, highlighting his pink lips, strong jaw, piercing eyes and—
 You jolt up when the girl sitting next to you clears out her desk, letting it retract into her seat with a loud bang. Your breathing’s a little quick, sweat beginning to dot your neck, and you have an uncomfortable ache between your legs. If you were alone, you’d waste no time in touching yourself to get the edge off – you’re so close – but you can’t, and it is excruciating.
Discretely, you rub your thighs together, praying to whatever higher power is up there that you can actually stand on your feet without collapsing. You duck your head, hoping no one can see your flaming cheeks. You feel so dirty, dreaming something like – something like that in the middle of class. You really need to get out of here, maybe get some air.
You quickly shove your things into your bag, clambering to your feet and booking it out of the lecture hall; hey, you haven’t tripped even once. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to figure out who the fuck it was in your dream, who took you apart so beautifully. Despite its inconvenient timing, your dream was actually really hot, and you’re lowkey regretting waking up.
It’s just… it all felt so real. And you really want to figure out who this mystery person is, so that you can at least gush to F/N about it. Maybe it’s one of your numerous celebrity crushes?
Your cheeks heat as you consider the thought in your head briefly, before shaking your head. No, something about that seems wrong. The familiarity in their movements, gestures, isn’t something you could just replicate in your head off a movie star or something. It’s someone you’ve at least met in real life, if not someone you know well.
The thought disturbs you a little, so you resolve to living in denial; you have no idea who this mystery man is, and that’s fine. Totally fine.
You have a discussion for one of your Gen Ed. classes now, but you don’t really plan on going. There’s no way you could possibly concentrate, with where you’re at and, quite honestly, you don’t feel like. It’s a really stupid class anyway, and you’re honestly taking it only for an easy A.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, making you jolt, and you fish it out, checking your home screen for the notification. And, oh, it’s Jaehyun.
A smile creeps onto your lips, entirely of its own volition.
Re: Open Lab Positions
Hey ______!
I was thrilled to receive your application despite a couple of typos I spotted in the actual email you sent me. Don’t panic! I saw your timestamp – you sent it around 3AM, I believe – and I have been where you are right now. I’m not judging you for it.
Unfortunately—
 Your throat closes up here, but you force yourself to keep reading. Might as well rip off the band aid, even if it makes you bleed worse.
 Unfortunately, I’m required to forward your email and resumé after I’ve accepted them to the professor, which is why I want to ask you to send in another email – this time after some proof-reading, of course. I’d love to have you on our team, and I’m sure the professor will agree once she sees your resumé. Does that work for you?
If it does, please make sure to do this by no later than 7pm today. I look forward to working with you!
- Jung Jaehyun
 “Oh my god.” You nearly walk into your apartment door as you shakily read over the email. You applied on a total off chance; you didn’t think it would actually work and land you the job! Honestly, the only thing that could make this better is if you’d get paid for it too, but that’s probably a bit of a stretch.
You hastily type in your entry code, swinging open the door with much gusto and speeding to your room. You don’t run into your other roommate, which is great, really; you probably wouldn’t have paid them much mind. Hell, you might not even have paid F/N much attention, and she’s the love of your life.
You quickly pull out your laptop, barely remembering to shrug off your backpack so you can type properly. You read over it a few times, to be sure, before sending it to Jaehyun with a happy little noise escaping the back of your throat. This is super exciting – you don’t think you’ve ever been this excited.
And okay, yeah, maybe you don’t have a chance to be with Jaehyun. Scratch that, there’s probably no way you could ever do that. Jaehyun’s pretty much a God among men, and no one can change your mind about that. Still, spending time near him would be fun and, well, educational, if nothing else.
Letting out a happy sigh, you settle in your bed, drawing the covers tightly around yourself. With that, you’re feeling pretty great about yourself, which is a welcome change, and nothing could possibly ruin the rest of your day. You don’t even have to patrol tonight – it’s Mark’s turn to slug the night away on his own.
Now that you have nothing in particular to do – and a whole three hours to kill before your next class – your mind wanders. Absently reaching out a hand, you twist the shadows falling in the corner of your room into intricate shapes, smiling wryly when you unconsciously replicate Joker’s mask. You’ve only met him once and he’s already made quite the impact on you, hasn’t he?
You remember, then, that Joker is a murder suspect. That the smiling, playful man you met only yesterday is a cold-blooded killer, one who’s taken innocent lives. It’s – it’s fucked up, is what it is. You’ve actually conversed with a murderer, and that’s a chilling thought.
A tremor wracks through you.
You click open the video file you were supposed to look at last night; the copy you took from the police. In it, Joker’s slinking quietly in the shadows cast by the house’s impressive figure, back pressed to the wall before he darts inside, lightning-quick. There’s no sound, but there doesn’t seem to be any sort of commotion either.
Joker darts back out again, just as quick, but you now know that’s just an illusion meant to throw everyone off his trail. The real Joker is still inside the house, possibly searching for some more items to steal… but you don’t know where he exits from. The camera that monitors the back of the house doesn’t catch anything of substance either; only a clumsy raccoon that knocks over a trashcan.
“Where the hell did you go…?” You wonder quietly to yourself, watching both the tapes again, still finding nothing. Maybe he used a blind spot? Or was it something else?
A little investigation into the matter wouldn’t hurt now, would it? Standing up, you figure: ah, why the hell not. To hell with your day off. While Mark’s keeping an eye out for people needing help, you can do the grunt work for this particular case. Something tells you Joker’s sudden inclination for murder isn’t actually all that sudden.
There must be more.
You shut your laptop, shoving it back into your backpack. You still have time for your next class, but you should probably make yourself a decent lunch; you aren’t sure whether dinner’s still in the cards, not when you have a (half-developed) plan in mind.
Starting your investigation from when he’s supposedly committed his last ‘normal’ crime is going to help you. Maybe you can track what he’s probably done since then, or, at the very least, figure out his method of operating. Whatever the case, you’re going to figure it out, no matter how terrified you are. He’s a known murderer, pretty much, and that means – regardless of the truth – you’ll have to treat him carefully.
Maybe, if you’re lucky – or not – you’ll even get to meet Joker himself. You aren’t sure if you really want to, at this point, but you’ll take whatever you can. You’re grasping at straws as it is; you can afford to do whatever you must to crack down on this.
Tonight, you vow to yourself. Tonight, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
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