#DON’T give the TARDIS caffeine
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nuttersincorporated · 1 year ago
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What if they’d made the 14th Doctor a mix of all the previous Doctors?
David Tennent is playing the Doctor again and they are trying to make it an in-universe mystery about why he has his ‘old face’ back. I would have gone further. I’d have made the 14th Doctor a mix of everyone who came before.
I’d have had made the regeneration into him stranger. It could have been a mix of both the way new who has done regenerations and some of the Doctor’s classic regenerations.
If I was going to have the clothes change too (I would have been fine with them staying the same), I would have had them be a mishmash of past Doctors’ outfits. 14 would have looked down and been suspired to realise his clothes had changed too.
When he got to actually look at his own reflection, he would have found ‘this old face back’ and a mix of old outfits. He could be wearing 5’s stripped pants, 7’s jumper, 8’s coat, 11’s bowtie and in his pocket would be 2’s flute and 4’s jelly babies.
When 14 speaks for the first time, he realises he has a Scottish accent, which would remind him of 12. I’d love it if they let him use his own accent and this would be an in-universe reason it could work, while still having 14 look like 10.
The Doctor would be confused by all of this. He’d feel more like a mix of those who came before rather than a continuation and someone new. He wouldn’t know why it had happened or who he is now. Does this new regeneration of him have anything that is specifically ‘him’ rather than just a mix of his previous selves?
Even his sonic screwdriver seems to be a mix of older models (it is and he never comments on it or shows surprise in the actual show).
The 60th Anniversary episode could still have been mostly the same but with Doctor trying to find out who he is now. It could have been a celebration of everything that came before as well as the start of something new.
Near the end of the episode, the Doctor would actually pick his new outfit. He’d take off the mishmash outfit, while reminiscing about old times. Then he’d pick something new to wear. Donna could help him choose.
14: How about this?
Donna: No
14: Why not? What’s wrong with it?
Donna: You can wear an outfit that tight until you’re 35 and no older.
14: I’m over 1000 years old, Donna!
Donna: Then you are far to old to wear that that so try something else.
When he’d chosen his new look, he’d hit the randomizer on the TARDIS console letting it choose how it wants to look.
Then Donna would love the new look before they have the same conversation and Donna still drops coffee on the console.
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biletdoux · 4 years ago
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stages of love | j.jh
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Pairing | jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader Rating | M Genre + Tropes | college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut) Warnings | explicit language, alcohol consumption, instant love?, sexual content (drunk sex, receiving and giving oral, penetration, cow girl position, nipple play), greyzone fidelity Length | 15k+
Summary | A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart
(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)
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Note: ahhhhhhh!!!! we finally did it boisssss. this fic has been a long time coming and honestly im sick and tired of jaehyun. i’ve spent too long thinking about him for this fic smh. this is also my first time writing smut so we’ll see how that goes lmao. anyway this was a long labor of love so please let me know what you thought of it !!! <333
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1. Peach by IU
smitten at first sight.
“How can I explain this feeling?”
“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be on your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 
Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.
“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he has a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you have agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 
You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 
“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”
You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 
Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 
You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 
Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserves for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano��� kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.
After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 
Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a performing arts college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.
Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 
“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.
“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 
Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 
You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”
Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”
Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 
You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 
“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you are cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.
The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.
He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.
Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 
He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 
Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”
She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up or something.” 
Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 
They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 
“So…” you start.
“So?” She returns.
“He’s cute.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”
Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”
Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 
“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.
“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 
The reaction is almost instantaneous. 
“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.
When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.
Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 
“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 
You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.
How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.
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2. Shadow by f(x)
adoration from afar. 
“I’m really really into you.”
The next few weeks are packed to the brim with assignments and papers, but despite this, you still find time for your personal research into the boy who was with Mark that day. 
Being the obvious first and easiest option, you beg Yeri to ask Mark directly about his friend, but she immediately shoots you down. 
“No. Absolutely not. At least not anytime soon anyway,” she huffs. “I’ve barely held two full conversations with him, like hell the next is gonna be about his friend just cause my best friend started thirsting over him after one glance. I mean come on, girl.” She shakes her head at you. 
Yeri’s right and you apologize to her for being thoughtless of her situation. She doesn’t say it, but she seems really hopeful about the music theory project and what might bloom from it. You would not want to impede on such possibilities of happiness for your friend, so you let that option go, but Yeri promises to help in other ways and she does. 
Somehow between caffeine fueled cram sessions and sleep deprivation, you, with Yeri’s help manage to find out more about the boy. You casually ask around in your contemporary writing and production department and she offers help by searching her vocal performance department. 
You find out his name is Jung Jaehyun and he’s a third year in the musical theatre department and that he’s a member of the local chapter of the performing arts fraternity on campus. You also discover his Instagram handle and you find yourself skimming through his page throughout the day more often  than you’re willing to admit to any living soul. 
You occasionally see him around campus since you first saw him at the cafe and each time, you can feel your heart hammer in your chest and you become so flustered to the point of your sympathetic nervous system activating. Unfortunately for you, your body unconsciously chooses flight each and every time at the sight of Jaehyun because you can always feel your knees go weak and your body lurch away to escape in any direction that isn’t Jaehyun’s. You kind of hate yourself each time you do, but you can’t help it. He’s just so pretty that it’s intimidating!
You try to think positive after the bouts of shame you experience after each escapade. 
Well there’s no way to embarrass yourself in front of him if you run away before having the chance to, right?
Even thinking about it now in the comfort of your bed, you can’t shake your self-consciousness and bury your face in a large pillow resting on your knees. Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to do. 
“Hey, why don’t you just talk to him, instead of moping all day and stalking his profile like a creep.” Yeri’s crisp words cut through your musings and you glance up to see her entering your shared room in the dorms.
“Shut up. It’s not like I have a benevolent match-making professor who happens to pair me up with my crush for an end-of-semester project.” You retort back before sighing dramatically, “I literally have no excuse to talk to him. We’re not in the same year or major. We don’t even have mutual friends. Unless, y’know, you and Mark hit it off, who knows.” 
Yeri sits down next to you on your small twin bed, resting her head on your shoulder while letting out an equally dramatic sigh, “yeah, well, Mark’s so dense, all the divine intervention in the world isn’t going to help me.” 
You let out snort, “what’s up with you two anyway?”
“Y’know, I could’ve sworn he was into me and I had a chance with him, but every time we meet up we literally only work on the project and nothing else. Every time I sort of tried to do something I get shot down. Like I told him I was kind of chilly today in the library, and he looks all thoughtful for a moment but all he ends up saying is ‘yeah, all the buildings on campus are always cold, huh? Good thing I always bring a jacket with me. You should bring one too next time, I don’t want you getting cold.’ And then he just turns back to the project like nothing. Can you believe him?” Yeri complains and you swear her annoyance is palpable. “And every time I text him to hangout, he thinks it’s to work on the project. I honestly can’t tell if he’s really that stupid or if he’s just not into me.” 
You laugh at her unfortunate, but undeniable state of love affairs. 
“Really? That bad? I remember him being all blushy when he asked for your number,” you recall. “And you should’ve seen how he looked when he showed off he got your number. Well that’s what it looked like anyway, I could be wrong.”
“Well, at least I’ll get a good grade though. Mark is nothing if not diligent and hard-working, with him being a double major and all.” Yeri sounds resigned however, she sighs again, this time more frustrated and you hear the determination in her voice. “Alright, after finals, for sure we’re gonna hit the clubs. We need to let loose, have some fun.”
You agree with her to appease her short temper, but deep down you feel disappointed. You feel sorry for your friend, having genuinely wanted Mark and her to work out, but a small and selfish part of you felt sorry for having no bridge to Jaehyun at all if it didn’t work out between Yeri and Mark. Looks like you were stranded now and you’d have to find a way to Jaehyun one way or another, but your line of help ends here.
Shaking away such negative thoughts, you think to yourself how soju bombs and dance floors don’t so bad after such an intense exam period after all. It will definitely take your mind off of things for sure.
And even though you say this to yourself, you know your mind will still be plagued with Jung Jaehyun no matter how much you try.
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3. What Is Love by EXO-K
careful contemplation. 
“I can’t explain what I feel.”
“Mark, tell me you did not.” The disbelief in Johnny’s voice made the situation all the more hilarious and even Jaehyun, who’s the calmer of the two, couldn’t suppress the guffaw from escaping his lips. 
The tips of Mark’s ears flush a light pink and he tries to deliver a convincing argument, but all that comes out is a meek stammer, further driving Johnny up the wall.
When Mark came up to his and Johnny’s room asking for advice, Jaehyun had an idea of where it was going to lead, considering Mark’s clueless disposition and inexperienced track record, but Jaehyun had no idea it was going to be this bad. 
Mark, having developed a crush on a fellow vocal performance major in his music theory class, came to Johnny, his frat big, to spill his guts and ask for advice constantly. Being Johnny’s roommate, meant Jaehyun was also privy to all the details of Mark’s love life and he had no problem giving advice to the amusing first year student, which Mark appreciated because going to Johnny meant a clowning session before he could get any useful nuggets of information. 
When Mark’s music theory professor randomly assigned the two for the end of semester project, Mark was one part excited and two parts nervous, resulting in a frazzled mess. He has been going up to the second room on the right of the second floor of the frat house almost every other day to ask for advice since then. 
Johnny was thrilled when he initially heard of the project, already envisioning his little’s love prospects, stating something along the lines of “my little’s gonna get laid!” 
However, now looking at Johnny rubbing his temples in exasperation, Jaehyun can tell that his roommate’s initial enthusiasm has dissipated. 
Mark’s daily roadblock today consisted of his crush giving him the cold shoulder and being much more snappy than before in the project meet up earlier. Mark recalls Yeri’s anger toward him and racks his brain for an answer. Even Johnny and Jaehyun are stumped at the sudden behavior, assuming that things were going smoothly from Mark’s previous reports filled with clumsy, but endearing and ultimately positive signs. It’s only when Mark offhandedly mentions her so-called ‘strange’ comment about the temperature, does it become clear why Yeri’s attitude suddenly shifted so drastically.
“I mean, I don’t know what I did wrong.” Mark’s second attempt to defend himself has Johnny flaring his nostrils in indignation and Jaehyun has to turn away in an attempt to stifle his laughter.
“Dude, she’s so into you. Or, at least she was, I don’t know about it anymore.” Johnny starts after calming down. “She left herself wide open for you to take a clear shot and you effectively said to her face, ‘thanks but no thanks’ and then walked away. No wonder she’s pissed, I’d be pissed too.” 
“Well, what was I supposed to do then?” Mark counters. 
“Mark,” Johnny begins, his tone dry and coarse, “you’re killing me.”
Jaehyun deems this the perfect time to step in, the laughter about done coursing through his system at this point. He clears his throat before offering his input, “It’s not too, too bad. Johnny’s just being dramatic. If she likes you enough, she’ll probably forgive you if you play your cards right from here on out.” 
Mark perks up, his attention solely on Jaehyun. 
Jaehyun hums absentmindedly to himself, gathering and organizing his thoughts to properly explain exactly where and how Mark went wrong and what to do moving forward. When Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, Mark is glued on to every word and Jaehyun can see the gears in his brain whirring at high speeds. 
By the time Jaehyun is done, Johnny has calmed down and Mark nods his head fervently in understanding. 
“Ah, that makes so much sense now! I got it now.” 
Despite his assurances, both Johnny and Jaehyun know Mark will be back soon. 
“Alright little, listen up,” Johnny starts. “Here’s the game plan from here on out.” 
Johnny goes off on a sermon, determined to help his little ‘get some’ as Johnny so delicately puts it. Jaehyun can see it’s not the most tasteful of word choice for Mark to hear, but the youngest says nothing. 
Lounging lazily in the bean bag on his side of the room, Jaehyun knocks his head back and thinks of a few weeks back when he accompanied Mark and some other frat members to the rec center for some basketball. Jaehyun remembers Mark was bemoaning the fact he forgot to ask for some girl’s number and it was as if a higher entity heard the boy’s laments and felt especially gracious, because right as they were passing the cafe, Mark stopped in his tracks and suddenly ran off into the busy building. 
The group of frat boys watched him excitedly weave his way through the crowd of bodies and occupied tables to reach a table with two girls. When they saw the girl putting her number into Mark’s phone, Johnny elbowed Jaehyun, and like a proud parent Johnny exaggeratedly acknowledged his little. “They grow up so fast, don’t they, Jaehyun.” Johnny even wiped an imaginary tear from his eye to really send the message home.
It was only a few moments later and Mark came bounding out of the cafe, eager to show everyone how lucky it was that he happened to see her. “I mean what are the odds, right?” the said boy exclaimed so happily, his cheer so infectious, Jaehyun couldn’t help himself from letting out a laugh of his own. 
Jaehyun turned to give Mark an encouraging pat on the back and it’s when he notices a pair of eyes on him. He turns fully to come in the direct line of sight of a girl whose eyes, Jaehyun imagined to have been very warm, had they not been burning holes into him. Her intense gaze slightly unnerved him, but not to the point of pulling away. He found himself entranced and the only thing that broke the quick spell was Johnny’s voice, calling him to move it along. 
Jaehyun recalls easily breaking eye contact and giving little thought to the strange girl with fire for eyes, but as the days passed, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the thought of her from his mind. 
Even now in the comfort of his room and with Johnny and Mark not even a foot away, carefully planning Mark’s love endeavors, all Jaehyun’s mind can really focus on is the thought of you. 
Jaehyun is sure he’s only looked at you for less than a minute, but somehow he’s able to clearly trace out the image of you that day, like a perfect snapshot. 
“Yo Jaehyun,” Johnny calls. “You good? You’ve been spacing out, bro.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Jaehyun answers offhandedly, before contemplating to himself. Was he good? Jaehyun wouldn’t necessarily say he’s bad in any way, but it isn’t normal for him to have the thought of a girl remain so clearly engraved in his mind for so long, and even less common for it to actually be a girl he doesn’t even know nonetheless. It’s not a pressing issue, but it does bother him. He weighs over the next steps in his mind. 
“Alright, just making sure.”
With one last thought, Jaehyun concludes to himself that it’s time to tackle his concern at hand head-on. 
“Actually,” he starts, “Mark, do you remember the girl next to Yeri the day you asked for her number?” 
Mark quirks his head in thought and Jaehyun can see Johnny raise his eyebrows in sudden interest. 
“Uh kinda,” Mark answers. “I think she’s a CWP major. I’m pretty sure we shared an arranging class last semester, but like, I don’t know her personally or anything; it was a large lecture. To be honest, I don’t even think she recognized me at all, judging from her reaction that day. Why, what’s up?”
Jaehyun nods, absorbing the information, giving Johnny ample time to fire away. 
“Yeah Jaehyun,” Jaehyun can visualize the glint in Johnny’s eyes just from hearing his mischievous tone. “What is up? I haven’t seen you ask about a girl in a hot minute. Thought you suddenly went abstinent without telling me or something.”
Jaehyun isn’t quite sure how to reply. Without a doubt you were cute to Jaehyun and he wouldn’t be opposed for things to happen between the two of you, but he doesn’t even know you! Well, not that it’s been a problem for Jaehyun in the past, but your lingering presence bothers him in ways he cannot communicate. Why is that the thought of you won’t leave him and why does it bother him so much?
Jaehyun decides to be straightforward, as straightforward as his muddled brain allows him to be. “She’s cute. I wanna get to know her.” 
“Okay, Jaehyun.” Johnny whoops obnoxiously. “I see you.” 
Mark is surprised and suddenly Johnny is all fired up again. Abruptly, Johnny shoots up and the determination that burns in his eyes is admirable. 
“I��ve got it!” He declares proudly. 
Jaehyun and Mark are quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. They say nothing, knowing there is not a thing that can reach him when Johnny gets like this. 
“We’re throwing a party and you bet your ass your two girls are gonna be there.”
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4. Heaven by Ailee
walking on Cloud 9. 
“When I hear your voice, it feels like I’m dreaming.”
You look up at the two-story house before you and wonder how you got here. Actually, you don’t wonder at all because you know exactly how you ended up at the steps of the local performing arts fraternity at your college, but you sigh regardless, as if someone had weaseled you into being here. Your nerves gnaw at you and you feel your stomach doing all types of aerobic tricks, the feeling reminiscent of the sensation before the roller coaster drops. 
Yeri grabs your hand and pulls you excitedly to the front door. You can feel the thrum of music emanating from the building.  
You recall how Yeri almost jumped you to tell the good news. 
Finals flew by without any major hitches, ignoring sleepless nights and caffeine crashes. You don’t know how you’ll do, but you’re satisfied with your exam performances. You were in the clear and were just waiting for Yeri to present her joint music theory project before the both of you could finally let loose as a celebration to end the school year. 
You waited for her outside of the classroom building as promised, playing with your phone to past time until you were suddenly engulfed by a delighted pair of arms. Yeri hugged you tight; she was in high spirits, seemingly from acing her presentation and you hugged her back in congratulations. She pulled at you closer and whispered in your ears, “just say yes.” 
You were confused, but looked up to see Mark headed toward the two you. Yeri released you, leaving one arm still slung casually over your shoulder.
“Hey guys. My frat’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate finishing exams. I was wondering if, uh, you guys wanted to come? I mean you don’t have to, it’s totally optional.” 
You didn’t say anything at first and Yeri interjected, “Of course!” She smiled at you innocently despite harshly pinching you to respond, her action hidden from Mark’s sight. “We’d love to, right?”
“Uh,” you answered distractedly. “Y-yeah, sure.” 
“Great.” Mark beamed. “Party starts at eight. I gotta go help set up, so I’ll see ya there!” 
And with that, he left as soon as he arrived and you looked at Yeri questioningly for answers. “I thought we were hitting downtown tonight. What happened to club hopping?” 
Yeri smiled devilishly, “change of plans. I’ll tell you more about it later. The most important thing is finding the perfect outfit for you tonight, cause Jaehyun’s gonna be there.” 
And so, here you find yourself dressed in high-waisted shorts and a cute top that took an embarrassingly long time to decide on. You are greeted by the fraternity president at the door of the house, Taeyong you think his name is, and he gives you two a quick verbal tour of the place, really emphasizing where to get drinks. Yeri thanks him for the both of you and you enter the crowded house. You think at least half of the performing art majors must’ve been here judging by the sheer volume of packed bodies. 
You remember Yeri explaining how she and Mark may have been making a breakthrough and this party was imperative for its success. You were completely okay attending for that reason alone, because after all, what kind of person sends her best friend to a frat party alone? However, your resolve to go was set in stone after she explained that the frat that was throwing the party just happened to be the same frat Jaehyun was a member of. 
“And y’know, seeing as how you’ve been obsessing over him the past few weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity.” 
You frown remembering her words and make your way to the kitchen with Yeri in tow. Various beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, crowd the table and you recognize the guy standing nearby idly chatting with others. It’s Jaemin, an acting major in your history lecture with whom you frequently exchange notes with when either one of you decides to flake for the day. You vaguely recall him mentioning his fraternity association, but didn’t realize it happened to be this one. He sees the two of you approaching the drink table and he smiles widely.
“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jaemin greets casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you think you did in the history final?” 
You groan. “I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s important is that we’re finished and I won’t ever have to think about the WWII timeline for, hopefully, forever.”
“Amen,” Jaemin laughs. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises up his red solo cup to cheers, before realizing both you and Yeri had nothing to drink. 
“Oh shit, I’m a pretty bad host, huh? First thing I should've done was get you two something to drink.” He chides himself, but his tone is playful. “What can I get for you, ladies?”
Before you can think about what you want, Yeri cuts you off, her tone matching Jaemin’s. “How about some shots to start off and we’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”
Jaemin laughs again. “Alright, I like it.” His hands are adept at weaving around the table and finding the paper shot cups and the vodka. “Svedka’s okay, right?” 
“We’re not picky.” You and Yeri agree. You take the shot in one gulp and the unpleasant burning in your throat makes you wince. 
“Can I get you two anything else?” 
“Yeah,” you say. “I think another shot and then a mixed drink. Anything’s fine, but preferably on the stronger side.” You look over at Yeri and she nods in agreement.
“Coming right up.” Jaemin agrees easily. 
He pours the two of you another shot and you think he must be a generous guy because the shot is overflowing. You and Yeri cheer once more while Jaemin gets to work mixing a cherry bourbon with some Coke. He tops off the drinks with some ice before handing it over to the both of you. “Here they are. Enjoy, ladies.”
You thank him and take a sip before excusing yourself to make your way around the party. The drink is sweet and the smoky aftertaste of the bourbon gives it a pleasant edge. You and Yeri are attached to the hip as you drift from one part to another around the party, making easy going small talk along the way. You are sufficiently buzzed by this point and feel much lighter as though the party was somehow two degrees removed from your senses. You look over to check on Yeri and she’s noticeably drunker than you are, giggling about the simplest of things and slurring her words just the slightest bit. You make a mental note to ease the drinking, wanting to be sober enough to look after her in case anything were to arise. 
The two of you are at the base of the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice calling Yeri’s name. You turn your attention upward to see him ambling down the stairs with excited fervor. His cheeks are flushed, more so than usual around Yeri, and you can tell it’s due to alcohol because Mark is holding her hands and you know he can never be so bold without the help of liquid courage. 
“Yo Mark, slow down there.” A voice calls out and you look up again and you feel your breath caught in your throat. 
There in front of your eyes is Jung Jaehyun in the flesh. He looks heavenly dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. You unconsciously swallow the lump in your throat and your heart beat gallops a mile a minute in your chest. Your mouth goes dry and you mindlessly gulp down swigs of your drink. You know Yeri would’ve sniggered at your current state had she not been so tipsy and completely preoccupied with Mark. 
Jaehyun catches up to Mark and when he reaches the base of the stairs, he notices the two of you.
“Oh Jaehyun, lemme introduce you guys.” 
As promised, Mark introduces everyone quickly and Jaehyun shoots a smile that seems to be aimed at you. “Nice to meet everyone.” 
“Cool, now that everyone knows each other,” Mark starts. “Yeri, can I show you something?” 
“Uh, y-yeah.” 
You give Yeri a hard look and she takes your hand to squeeze it in reassurance. She looks at you pleadingly and there’s a confidence in her eyes that you can’t argue with. You relent and let her go. 
Mark takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs while you watch, slightly worried. 
Jaehyun seems to have sensed your apprehension because the words that leave his mouth snaps you out of your perturbed state. “Don’t worry. Mark’s a good kid, you have nothing to worry about. You have my word on it.” 
And suddenly the situation dawns on you. The boy of your recent all-consuming infatuation stands here before you, and it’s just the two of you alone. Any social skills you have, leave you and you’re unsure of what to do. 
Jaehyun notices the awkward tension in the air and works quickly to dispel it. “Your drink’s looking low. Can I get you something else?” 
You look down to your drink to see that he was right. Only a few sips remain. You didn’t realize you had drank so much at the sight of Jaehyun. 
“Um, some water would be good. I don’t want to be too hungover tomorrow.” You answer shyly. You also need to be sober enough to look after Yeri, but you decide to leave that out.
Jaehyun chuckles, “sure thing. Here, come with me. I’ll get you some water.”
Jaehyun leads you to the kitchen with ease, seamlessly weaving through the crowds of people. Every group of people he passes greets him loudly to be heard of the pounding bass of the music. You are not surprised to see how popular he is. 
Once in the kitchen, he grabs you a bottle of water and a beer for himself from the fridge and you thank him. The cold water is refreshing, but it does little to cool your nerves. The awkward tension is high and still ever present. You feel as though you’re drowning in it and you also feel like running away from here despite this being what you’ve wanted for more than anything for weeks on end. 
“So,” Jaehyun starts, clearing his throat. “Mark told me you’re a CWP major?” 
“Uh, y-yeah, actually.” You hate how you’re so flustered around him. “How’d he know? Did Yeri tell him or something?” 
“He said you guys shared an arranging class last semester.” Jaehyun recalls.
“Wait, really? I had no idea.” You start going off on how you could’ve missed such a thing and Jaehyun smiles. You’re much more comfortable when a rhythm has been established and the words flow out of you easily. You’re not as relaxed as where Jaehyun wants you to be, but he thinks it’s a good start. 
You continue with small talk from there, much less uptight than before and you feel glad. Jaehyun is as radiant in person as he is in your imagination. You find him to be very kind and your heart flutters even more. Jaehyun mentions he’s a musical theatre major and you do your best to act surprised despite it being one of the only things you know about him prior to this moment.
Before he gets a chance to tell you more about himself, a tall boy with long limbs calls out to Jaehyun that it’s his turn to join the next game of beer pong. Jaehyun looks reluctant to leave and you don’t want him to leave either, but you’d hate to hold him back from prior engagements. 
“Would you,” Jaehyun licks his lips in consideration, “like to play with me? I don’t have a partner.” 
You nod your head and readily agree, eager to spend more time with him.
You’ve only played beer pong a handful of times and being around Jaehyun makes you nervous, so you miss the first few shots. You feel embarrassed, but Jaehyun is patient and assures you that it’s no problem at all. His little words of encouragement mixed with the beer you drink helps melt your tension, and halfway through the game, you’re whooping and hollering with everyone watching the game. 
You high-five Jaehyun without a second thought after nailing a perfect shot and Jaehyun smiles even wider. The two of you are leading when Taeyong comes in to kick everyone out. 
“Sorry guys, party’s over.” 
Groans of complaints could be heard throughout the crowd, but Taeyong’s words are firm and he ushers everyone to leave. He has a few other frat members behind him helping out. He reaches the beer pong table and pulls Jaehyun aside. After a few exchanged words, Jaehyun nods in agreement and ends the game completely, apologizing to his opponents. 
You’re confused, so you carefully ask Jaehyun what’s going on. He sees you and his gaze softens, he quietly explains, “apparently, the campus police have received multiple noise complaints and since the fraternity already has a strike, Taeyong doesn’t really want to risk another. “
“Ah, I see.” You nod. You’re saddened by the turn of events, having finally eased into a relative comfort around Jaehyun and you yearn for more. “Well, I better go look for Yeri then.” 
This is a goodbye and you’re unsure of what else to say to him, your disappointment mixes with alcohol making you feel even more miserable. You want to ask for more, but can’t find the words to reach him. Luckily, Jaehyun does it for you. 
“Are you free sometime this week?” He asks. “I feel like we didn’t get a chance to really talk and I’d like to.” 
Your heart hammers and the blood rushes in your ears, but you still find yourself uttering a mousy agreement.
“Great,” his smile is dazzling and you feel dizzy. “It’s a date then.”
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5. 24 Hours by Sunmi
rushed minutes. 
“Time goes by so quickly.”
“Hey,” a distant voice calls out and Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see your approaching figure. Your cheeks are rosy from the summer sun and stray pieces of your hair escape from your loosely styled updo. Jaehyun takes all of you in with careful appreciation.
“Hey yourself.” Jaehyun chuckles, slipping his phone casually in his pocket and standing up straighter to greet you properly.
Jaehyun sees the red of your face flush brighter, the soft color bleeding across your cheeks and onto your nose. Cute, he thinks. He watches as you tighten your grip on your clutch, knuckles white with nervous tension, in an attempt to gather your composure and calm your nerves. You clear your throat, “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon. You should’ve texted me.” 
“It’s all good, I finished early.” Jaehyun notices you no longer stutter around him like the first night you two met. He’s glad the days and nights of sober texting after exchanging numbers at the party did wonders to make you feel comfortable around him. He’s not too worried about your current ‘first-date’ anxiety, knowing it’ll be dispelled soon enough. “Shall we?” He moves to open the door and the cool rush of air from the cafe greets the two of you. 
The cafe is quaint and cozy, tucked away in a small corner of intersecting back streets and crowded buildings. Jaehyun discovered the little spot not too long ago and something, Jaehyun assumes his instincts, compelled him to take you to it for the first official date. It just felt right.
The two of you walk to the order counter and you take it all in. You can hear the quiet chatter of the cafe occupants mixed with the rattle of espresso machines being put to work. Your eyes scan over the decorations and several potted succulents hanging from the ceiling. It’s incredibly homey and you feel at ease. 
“Hiya, I can help the two of you whenever you guys are ready.” The barista is cheerful to a fault and Jaehyun watches you shoot her a grateful smile before your eyes move to the menu to decide on what to get. 
Jaehyun knows what he wants, so he waits patiently for you to decide, but seeing your eyebrows scrunch together in indecision, Jaehyun chuckles to himself. “I hear the iced lattes here are really good, particularly the caramel latte,” he offers. 
You perk up in surprise, but you recover quickly, “okay, that sounds good then. I was between that and the iced cocoa.”
“No problem, I’ll order then. Today’s on me.” Jaehyun says. 
Jaehyun walks up to the barista and quickly places the order. He reaches for his wallet after the barista recites the order, but he falters slightly when he sees your gaze glued to the cake display, particularly the crepe cake. 
“Can I get a slice of the chocolate crepe cake over there too?” 
“Of course! Here’s your new total,” she turns the touch screen display over to Jaehyun and he readily inserts his card to pay. When finished, Jaehyun turns back the screen and after a few taps from the barista, a receipt is printed and she hands him a buzzer. 
“Your order will be out shortly.” She informs him.
Jaehyun smiles and says a small ‘thank you’ in return before turning his attention to you. You look up to meet his eyes and you smile, “can we sit over there by the window?” 
You head to the little corner table first with Jaehyun steadily in tow. You sit at the chair that leaves your back to the window and Jaehyun is mesmerized by how the afternoon sunlight refracts through your silhouette. You’re glowing and Jaehyun swallows thickly. 
“So,” he starts. “What have you been up to?”
“Celebrating finishing my first year of college in one piece.” You laugh lightly. “I got by with passable grades, but other than that Yeri and I just finished moving into our new dorms. We’re no longer freshmen, so first year dorms are off limits. I’m gonna miss the convenient location.” You jokingly mope. 
Jaehyun laughs easily with you and before he gets a chance to reply, the buzzer goes off so he excuses himself to go pick up the order. 
A different barista places down a tray with your two drinks and a small slice of cheesecake with two dessert forks resting on some napkins. “Enjoy your order!” 
Jaehyun smiles in thanks and picks up the tray to bring it back to the table. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see the mille crepe cake and true to his expectations, your eyes light up at the sight of dessert. 
“Surprise.” He says. “I saw you looking at it earlier.” 
Jaehyun watches as you immediately grab a small fork and try a piece of the cake with unrestricted child-like excitement. Your eyes light up at the taste of the delicate layers of fresh whipped cream and thin crepes and the smile you shoot in his direction has Jaehyun’s heart beating a little faster than he’s willing to admit. 
“Thank you!” You look up at him. “It’s so good, you should definitely try a bite too.” 
“Yeah? I’ll try some then.” Jaehyun sits down and leans even closer to you over the table, his mouth open and expectant and his eyes staring straight into yours. 
You try your best to bite back the scarlet fighting to stain your cheeks as you cinch off a small section of the cake with your fork. Your hand falters just the slightest bit when delivering the small confection to his awaiting mouth, but you push through and feed him despite the embarrassment you feel. 
Jaehyun chews slowly and deliberately, taking his time to lick the stray whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You lose the game of chicken, breaking eye contact first. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s good. We should definitely come back.” 
You let out a little awkward cough, desperate to ward off your cloud of emotions. “Uhm, yeah sure.”
Jaehyun has always thought you were cute, but he thinks you’re especially cute today. 
“Anyway,” you start. You want to change the topic because you don’t think you can survive this tension without your brain frying. “I feel like I’ve just seen you around recently. I should’ve run into you a long time ago since the performing arts college is so small.” 
“Oh,” Jaehyun is a little taken aback. “I used to be over at the East Campus. I was a business and administration major for two years before I switched over to musical theatre.”
“Wait really?” Your surprise erases any tension you felt earlier. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation.” 
“Why’d you switch over? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
Jaehyun contemplates his reply for a second as takes a sip of his coffee. “Well, when I entered college, I didn’t really know what I wanted, so I just followed whatever my parents wanted me to do. I actually knew I liked musical theatre for the longest time, but it took time for me to build up the courage to switch. My parents weren’t happy with it at first and we fought for the longest time, but I think they’ve warmed up to it enough by now. I’ve never really talked about this though, I just tell people I transferred from a different college and the conversation just ends there I guess, but it’s really no big deal.”
“Thank you for telling me this, Jaehyun.” Your voice is sincere and Jaehyun believes you.
“What about you, hm?” Jaehyun returns. “Why CWP?” 
“I don’t really have one point that changed my life and helped me find my calling or whatever,” you ponder with a tilt of the head and the taste of cream dissolving in your mouth. “But ever since I was little, I always knew I was gonna end up doing something in music. I was never good at singing though, so vocal performance was out the door and I wasn’t that interested in classical instruments either, so that helped me narrow stuff down. Actually, what really helped me decide was during orientation, my group leader was a contemporary writing and production major and she told me all about it and I’ve been sold ever since. I really like it though, and have no intention of switching.”
“That’s good. Sometimes I wish I switched earlier.” Jaehyun muses. “I feel so behind sometimes. Most people in my class have already been in at least one musical and an internship, except for me. I think about it a lot, but I try not to let it get me so down.” 
“You shouldn’t feel that way!” You try your best to cheer him up, and Jaehyun appreciates it a lot more than he thought he would. “Everyone has their own pace, that’s what college is all about! Nothing is ever wasted time. You can think of your time as a business admin major as a way to help you make up your mind on your true passion. You told me you’ve always liked musical theatre, but I’ve bet without the time in business, you would’ve never known you liked it enough to pursue a career out of it.”
Jaehyun laughs at your earnesty. He thinks you’re a touch naive, but your words make him feel light. “You’re right. I can say for sure I wasn’t happy as a business major.”
“See? Nothing is ever wasted time if you can discover your true happiness out of it.” 
The two of you exchange easy chatter after that and between small bites of cake and sips of coffee, Jaehyun thinks you’ve become prettier and prettier.
“What was it like?” You ask absentmindedly.
“Hm? What was ‘what’ like?”
“Being a business and administration major.”
Jaehyun has to think about it. He recalls constantly dressing up for group presentations and boring lectures, but his mind wanders to his activities outside the classroom. He remembers the constant partying and the blur of faces that helped him keep his bed warm. He remembers brief flings and relationships cut short. He doesn’t want to think about those things when he’s next to you. “Uhm. It was okay, nothing special, but that reminds me–”
“Yeah?”
“Are you free next weekend?”
“I should be. Why, what’s up?”
“Great,” Jaehyun smiles while taking the last sip of his coffee. “I’m having a housewarming party at my new apartment. You should definitely be there.” 
--
The day of the long awaited housewarming party rolls up sooner than expected between settling into your new dorm with Yeri and the occasional small ‘get-togethers’ with Jaehyun. They’re actually dates if you're being honest, but you don’t want to put a title on anything in case he wasn’t on the same page as you. Being with Jaehyun made you giddy in more ways than one, but that means the anxiety that pools at the base of your stomach grows larger each day when the relationship between the two of you goes unnamed. You feel greedy when you desperately grasp at the shred of time you share with him, always unwillingly to let go.
“Are you ready?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your small reverie. Her hand is poised, ready to knock on the black door of Jaehyun’s apartment, waiting for you to gather your composure. Yeri is dressed to the nines in a cute skirt with a top to match. She wants to look good for her new boyfriend and you teased her endlessly for it when the two of you were getting ready.
“Mark’s one lucky guy.”
“Shut up. Worry about yourself.”
“All I do is love you, yet you’re so mean to me.”
Regardless of her harsh words toward you, she helped you toss your closet inside and out for the perfect outfit to woo Jaehyun, even if it meant showing up late to the party. 
The two of you leave your dorm twenty minutes later than you intended and it also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s apartment was difficult to find, tucked away in a small building between towering skyscrapers, but now is finally the moment of truth. 
“Yeah, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter as you watch Yeri knock on the door. 
It takes a minute before the door creaks open and Jaehyun’s head pops out. His smile is radiant and you’re absolutely ensnared by the way his fringe falls over his forehead. 
“Hey, glad you two could make it.” Jaehyun opens the door wider to allow you and Yeri to enter. He greets Yeri with polite warmth while he wraps an arm over your shoulders. When Yeri heads in the apartment first with her back against the two of you, Jaehyun steals a quick peck to your temple and whispers, “you look pretty tonight.”
His touch is fleeting and he pulls back quickly, as if you imagined the whole thing, but his cheeky smile tells you that it really did happen. Your heart hammers and you force yourself to focus on the steady thrum of mellow R&B that reverberates throughout his apartment to calm yourself. You take his apartment in steady strides with your full attention. It’s sleek and modern with a few pops of his personality here and there in the form of trinkets decoration choices. 
“Hey!” Johnny calls over from the couch. He has a beer in hand, but he’s far from tipsy. Flanked on one side is Doyoung with another beer to match and on the other is Sicheng. Seulgi, the girl, who you assume is Sicheng’s significant other, by the way his arm is casually wrapped around her waist, is also there and she nods at you in greeting. You've come to know about all of them after hanging out with Jaehyun so much. “Did you guys get lost or something?” 
“Yeah,” Yeri replies as she moves to sit next to Mark who’s on the adjacent loveseat and resting a drink on the coffee table.  “Something like that.”  
She places a sweet kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth in greeting and you swear you can hear him crooning at the attention. 
“Doesn’t matter, Johnny. The important thing is that they’re here now.” Jaehyun interjects. “Do you guys want anything to drink?”
“That’d be nice.” You hum.
Yeri laughs in agreement, “yeah, the two of us could never say no to a drink.”
“Alright, I’m on it.” Jaehyun calls while moving to the kitchen. “Any preferences?”
“No,” you say. “Surprise us.”
Jaehyun works to mix drinks and you take a seat on the floor next to the coffee table to observe the party. Perched on the shelf of a slender bookcase in the corner of his living room is a bluetooth speaker playing music, the rhythm quiet and bass steady as everyone chatters away once introductions are made on the sofas. You remember him offhandedly mentioning that he doesn’t want any noise complaints on his first week in the new place and it makes sense. Jaehyun’s housewarming party is a quiet affair that is far different from the wild party at the frat house in which you met him, but you think this vibe fits Jaehyun more.
Jaehyun returns shortly with two drinks in tow for you and Yeri and sits himself snugly next to you on the floor. He picks his idle beer from the coffee table and once Johnny realizes that everyone in the proximity has a drink in hand, he raises his voice and beer in a toast. “It sucks that Taeyong couldn’t make it tonight, but here’s to having fun without him. We’re gonna get twice as fucked up to make up for his absence, cheers!”
Everyone lets out a chuckle, but obliges to humor him anyway and joins to connect their drink to his in cheers. 
You pull your cup back and take a big gulp of the drink. It’s sweet and carbonated, but the sting of alcohol at your throat leaves you wincing just the slightest bit.
A few pleasantries are exchanged here and there, but it’s only then does Doyoung pull out a deck of cards with a devilish glint in his eyes that deceive his looks. 
“Ring of fire, anyone?”
--
After who knows how many rounds of ring of fire (and maybe a few other drinking games here and there) with too many drink refills for you to remember, you somehow find yourself splayed on the couch and leaning over Yeri’s shoulder in support. Seulgi is on the other side of you leaning on you for support, the same way you’re doing to Yeri, but you don’t mind it one bit. The three of you have grown surprisingly close with one another throughout the night.
Your mind is lucid enough to still be conscious and completely aware of where you are and what you’re doing, but the alcohol in your system eats away at the details in your memory. 
You vaguely recall ridiculous punishments that involved Johnny twerking on the dining room table and Mark taking a shot of Jack Daniels mixed with ketchup, and you can’t help but snicker to yourself. 
“I think we should get going now.” Sicheng is the first to speak as he moves to help Seulgi up. “It’s getting late.”
Doyoung looks a little groggy, but when he checks the time, he perks up immediately, “oh shit, you’re right. I need to get going too, I’ve got something in the morning.”
With that everyone shuffles to clean the remnants of the party with as much grace as they can muster while intoxicated, which wasn’t much, but in twenty minutes, Jaehyun is already walking half the party to the door in goodbye. Only you, Mark, and Yeri are left. 
“Hey Yeri,” Mark calls softly to Yeri as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Are you ready to go too?”
Yeri is still sprawled on the couch with you, but mumbles a small response. “Yeah, I should be. Give me a second.”
She turns over to you and nudges you just the slightest bit. “I’m gonna go back to Mark’s tonight, are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah,” you assure her. “I’ll be fine, just go have fun.”
“She’s free to rest here until she’s ready to leave, don’t worry. I’ll call a cab for her when the time comes.” Jaehyun pipes up. 
Yeri gives you a look, but you squeeze her hand one last time to give her some peace of mind. “I’m a big girl, Yeri. I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll walk you to the door, Mark’s waiting.”
You give Yeri a tight hug in goodbye and you find your way back to the couch. The fact that you’re all alone in Jaehyun’s apartment doesn’t hit because of the remnants of alcohol in your system melts away your nerves. 
You’re pleasantly buzzed, lost in your own thoughts when Jaehyun comes up to you with a glass of water in hand. “Here, so you don’t feel as bad tomorrow morning.”
You accept it gratefully and take in big gulps, the water refreshing, but your skin feels hot. 
Jaehyun takes a seat next to you and the proximity makes your head spin. You turn to look at him, and he flashes you a smile.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You might’ve mentioned something.” You tease. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“Well,” he hums. You’re not sure, but you think the distance between the two of you is decreasing. “You really do look stunning tonight.”
You flush at his words, but you look straight into his eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Yeah? I try to impress.” Jaehyun’s eyes are hooded and your throat goes dry. “Can I kiss you?”
You say nothing at first, his words not registering into your muddled brain, but when you feel his breath ghost over your lips, you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you. 
His lips are slightly chapped and you can taste the vodka on his breath, but to you it’s perfect. Jaehyun’s perfect.
Jaehyun kisses you with reserved passion and practiced expertise. His tongue sets the rhythm against yours and his roaming hands have you feeling as if you’ve been set ablaze. He pulls back just the tiniest bit and the intense longing for his touch that hits you is indescribable. 
You pull him back in your arms and your lips reconnect in a desperate fervor. Jaehyun adjusts his arms around you and the next you know, you’re in his embrace and he’s carrying you to his bedroom. He places you down gently, his bed is plush and comforter soft. 
Jaehyun’s touch is gentle as he gathers your face in his hands. He kisses you again and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer. He pulls back and looks at you earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
Everything’s moving so fast and you’re dizzy, but you don’t want whatever this is to stop. You want to be as close to Jaehyun as possible.
“No,” your voice is hoarse. “Don’t stop. I want you, Jaehyun.”
He kisses you again, this time unrestrained. His tongue is hot, but you can only savor it for a minute before he starts trailing kisses down your neck and tugging at your shirt. You let out a breathy moan in response to how his touches make you feel. 
Jaehyun reaches at your shorts and makes quick work at unbuttoning them. You help him remove the article of clothing and his slender fingers dart inside your panties. You’re slick to the touch and Jaehyun must be made of magic because you think you’re seeing stars. You unravel before him embarrassingly quick, but he kisses you at the base of your clavicle in sweet reassurance. 
Your chest is heaving, but you want more. You grab at Jaehyun’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The expanse of his abdomen is a sight to behold, but Jaehyun is cruel and doesn’t give you the time to take it in. He’s on top of you again, lips crashing onto yours once more. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and while he’s pre-occupied, you unbuckle his belt and steal a moment in his boxers. He feels thick and hot in your hands as you run your finger over the tip to feel a drop of pre-cum. He buckles just the slightest bit and it emboldens you. 
Jaehyun helps himself out of his jeans and you push him onto the bed wanting to be on top this time. He’s straining against his boxers and you want to help relieve the tension. When you pull off his boxers you can feel his inaudible groan. You stroke his length gingerly and look up to see him with hooded eyes look right back at you. 
This excites you so you take him in your mouth in a moment of unfiltered courage. Your tongue starts at the base before tracing your way up to his sensitive head. You tease him accordingly to his quiet grunts and groans and when you feel like he’s had enough, you take all of him in until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but push through.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun stutters out between stacatoed breaths. “Babe, you’re so good.”
You hum in pleasure at his praise and he grabs your hair. This goes on for a few more minutes before he reaches down to stop you. “Not that I don’t love this,” the look in your eyes nearly has him faltering his words, “but I don’t want to cum just yet.”
You relent with a slick pop and Jaehyun shifts over to rummage for a condom in his nightstand. You settle back down in his pillows. Jaehyun gives you a soft kiss on the lips before he enters you. 
“Tell me when it’s okay to move,” he whispers and you place a small kiss at the base of his neck. 
He starts off slow to let you acclimate to his size, but neither of you are very patient, so he ends up pounding into you a lot sooner than he anticipated and you find yourself getting caught up in the pleasure.
It feels like you’re dreaming, but if this was a dream, you never want to wake up.
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6. Hush by Miss A
shh, no talking, just us.
“I can’t think straight.”
You and Jaehyun don’t become official until a few weeks later. 
He asks you one day when you’re naked and out of breath. You’ve gone one too many rounds with him and a thin layer of sweat coats your body as you lay on his heaving chest. You absentmindedly draw shapes on his skin and he gives you a chaste kiss to your temple.
“We should date.” He hums. “I think I’d make a good boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You raise your eyebrow in teasing.
“Yeah,” he ascertains. “Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”  
“Hmm,” you pretend to think it over as if this wasn’t you’ve been hoping for since the first moment you laid eyes on him. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.”
Jaehyun laughs and you feel the world fall into its right place. “Alright, girlfriend.”
And the rest is history as they say. 
Jaehyun isn’t your first, but you experience many firsts with him. You’re not exactly inexperienced, but he really opens your eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans into your neck. His hands grip at your hips to help guide you along, but you’re fully in charge. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just like that.” 
You didn’t see yourself as someone who liked to take charge during sex, but after that one time Jaehyun asked you to top, you’ve never looked back since. 
You roll hips into him and at a pace you know drives Jaehyun wild and you pull him into a sloppy kiss. It’s all tongue and no grace, but you love it the same regardless. You capture his bottom lips between your teeth playfully before pushing him flat on his back until he’s firm against his plush mattress. You place a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh to balance yourself and Jaehyun immediately knows you’re close. 
A hand rests on your hip to steady you while the other snakes over to play with your clit to further stimulate you toward your climax. Jaehyun knows what you like and his timing is impeccable, so before you know it, both of you are reaching your highs together. You collapse on his chest and you allow yourself to stay in his warmth long enough to have your breaths synchronize before you extricate yourself from him to head to his bathroom. 
When you come back out, he’s disposed of the used condom and opens your arm wide for a hug, which you gladly indulge in.
Time stops when you’re in his arms.
--
On the surface, it looks like Jaehyun likes to mix it up. He seems like  an elusive guy with varied tastes, but the more time you spend with him, you realize he likes the control of seeing you unravel before him.
He likes the intimacy of missionary. 
The close proximity to your body has him looking into your eyes and leaving you feeling the most vulnerable of ways. He has full access to your neck, which he lovingly claims as his own and you chide him the next day when you see scattered purple blooms. Jaehyun changes his pace on a whim and you fall to his mercy. When he takes you fast and hard, you see stars, but when thrusts in you with languid leisure, he has you begging for more. 
He likes the intensity of taking from behind. 
When you’re on your knees with your ass in the air, he takes it as a guarantee to fuck you senseless. Your muffled moans makes his dick twitch and you swear you can feel him fuck into you even faster. Jaehyun always makes sure to wrap his arms around you to finger your clit until you go into sensory overload and he doesn’t stop pounding into you until there are tears in your eyes. He kisses each one away before taking your lips in his and you can taste the salt water on his tongue.
He likes the dominance from eating you out.
He laps at your core like a starved man and makes good use of his adept fingers until your head is spinning. Jaehyun makes it a habit to eat you out until you’re satisfied before he gets his turn. When your thighs are on either side of his head and your hands tangled in his hair, he swears he can stay there forever.
Above all, Jaehyun just likes you. He likes being with you and he definitely likes fucking you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
--
“Mmmh,” you breathe out.
Your back is flush against Jaehyun’s back as you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. You grind your ass back even harder when he pinches your nipple between his fingers. 
He kisses your shoulder blade from behind and bucks his hip upward to meet you in the middle. 
The afternoon sunlight is streaming in from the gaps of his blinds and you want to take it nice and slow today. The television in front of you is playing a movie, but you’re too enraptured by the feeling of him filling you to the brim to pay it any mind. 
“I love it when you’re on top, babe.” he hums as he plays with your clit. 
You let out another breathy groan before you can find the composure to bite back at him. “What happened to no sex today, hmm? I thought we were just going to have innocent quality time together and watch a movie.”
Jaehyun must’ve not liked your sass, so he bucks up harder. He’s telling you to pick up the pace and you oblige. Before you know, you’re practically bouncing on his dick and you can feel your impending high about to crash down on you. He can sense it too and maintains his tempo. When you cum, Jaehyun rides on the tail of your climax in pursuit of his own. He cums shortly after with stuttering hips and a bite on your shoulder. He gathers you in his arms and runs his tongue soothingly over where he bit you and the various love bites that he’s littered on the expanse of your skin. 
“Just being with you is quality time in itself.” He says. “Besides, class is starting soon, so I won’t get to see you as much.”
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7. Disturbance by BoA
a ripple on the surface.
“I didn’t know at first.”
“So I do have a roommate after all,” Yeri’s voice calls out and you turn over to see her standing by the doorway. You roll your eyes at her, but quickly turn back to gather your things. 
She lets out a chuckle, but you don’t miss the sour edge to her tone. “I thought I got a single dorm since it’s so empty all the time.”
“You say that, Yeri,” you retort. “But I know you’re over at Mark’s constantly so I don’t wanna hear it from you.”
“Yeah, but I make time to come back here and I always let you know when I’m going out. I feel like I’ve only seen you maybe once or twice the past few months. I feel like the only reason I see you these days is ‘cause of classes.”
“You’re just exaggerating, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
She looks displeased, but nothing leaves her lips as the two of you head out for the day.
--
It’s late. 
When night falls, shadows come out to play and your college campus is riddled with them. The school auditorium is situated in the far corner of the campus and the lamp lights of the main walkways do little, but you pay it little mind. Jaehyun should be getting out soon.
It takes another ten minutes to see him emerge from the double doors and you perk up immediately at the sight of him. He looks a little shocked to see you, but greets you with a warm hug and small peck regardless. 
“Hey,” his voice is small, almost reserved. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was finishing late tonight.”
“Oh, you did, but I still wanted to see you.” You explain, eyes bright and tone undeterred.
“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he licks his lip. “But it’s really late and I still have more stuff I need to work on. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”
“Oh, okay.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe. Next time.”
--
“Oh hey,” you smile, but Yeri’s fury is palpable and cuts through you.
“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” She spits out. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
Sheepish, you reply, “oh sorry. I forgot to fully charge it before leaving and Jaehyun and I have different phones, so I couldn’t charge it at his place.”
“You were at Jaehyun’s?” Yeri is glaring at you at this point and you feel a bit peeved. 
“Yeah. What of it?” 
Yeri’s been getting angry at you recently, losing her temper at the drop of a hat, and you can’t seem to pinpoint why. You’re getting tired of being her punching bag. 
“We made plans to go shop for Seulgi’s gift today. You promised you’d be there, don’t you remember?”
“Oh shit.” It completely slips from your mind and you open your mouth to apologize, but Yeri cuts you off before you get the chance.
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Yeri turns to leave before you can say anything back.
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8. Symptoms by SHINee
something’s wrong.
“The worse it gets, the more exhausted I get.”
Jaehyun feels off.
He can’t pinpoint exactly what he is that he’s feeling, but he thinks it’s reminiscent of his world being tilted by six degrees. It’s not immediately jarring and takes little time for his eyes to register, but he’ll occasionally bump his toe, signalling that this isn’t right. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. His head spins just the slightest bit and he feels woozy, but he doesn’t know why.
Jaehyun just feels off.
--
Jaehyun checks the bulletin board of his school auditorium almost religiously. 
Each time before and after class, he’ll swing by and peruse the flyers that hang from haphazardly stuck on pins. He ignores the tutoring offers and the part time jobs scams, his main focus is almost always on the center of the board where they post the upcoming musical theatre production and eventually, the cast list. 
This semester, the chosen production is La La Land and Jaehyun has been dead set on landing the role of Sebastian Wilder. He stays back extra late each day to practice the script and to work on his singing and annunciation. 
On the day of the audition, he’s sure he’s nailed it and thinks to himself the world must be ending if he weren’t to get the leading role. 
When he leaves the auditorium in a rush, excitement flows through his veins and he drinks in the night air as a toast of victory. He’s tipsy on his excitement and wants to laugh out loud, but in the corner of his vision, he sees you. Your eyes light up the sight up, outshining the moon and the stars, but your visage does not elicit the reaction he thinks it should. He expects his heart to swell and burst, but somehow he feels heavy. 
He pulls you in for a hug and a quick kiss to quell his weighted heart, but he thinks he’s starting to sink so he calls you off for the night. He’ll see you next time. 
Yeah, next time will be better.
--
You’re snuggled up close and personal on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun notices you fill every nook and cranny of his being perfectly to a tee, and yet that feeling. It’s there again. 
Jaehyun feels off. 
You laugh at something one of the characters say and you cuddle harder into him. He feels heavy again and it makes his throat itch, so he swoops down and captures your lips.
It’s hard and fast to scrub away at his uneasiness and before he knows it, his clothes are missing, but so are yours. The foreplay is brief and almost impersonal, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to be inside you. 
When Jaehyun has you begging and writhing, he feels like the world is where it should be. No longer is he living at a slight angle when he’s buried to the hilt inside your warmth, so when he sees you, he does what he can to get you out of your pants. 
Today is no different from any other. 
After a satisfying session you roll on his chest. Your kiss is soft and sweet despite the sweat that covers both of your bodies. He hums quietly as he taps melodies on along your exposed spine.
“Jaehyun?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I love you.”
Ah. Jaehyun thinks he’s getting it now, why he’s feeling off.
Jaehyun thinks he’s being suffocated.
--
To the surprise of no one, and especially not to him, Jaehyun gets the leading role of Sebastian Wilder in La La Land. He was a shoe-in for it anyway and he made sure to put in the work to get it. 
His leading lady is someone by the name of Park Sooyoung, but at the first rehearsal she introduces herself as Joy.
“It’s nice to meet you.” She offers her hand out in a friendly greeting. “Here’s to a successful show together, Jaehyun.”
Her smile is blinding and he thinks Joy is a fitting name. He grasps her outstretched hand, grip firm and sure. 
“Yeah,” he smiles back. “Here’s to a good show together.”
--
Rehearsals span over blurred minutes and long hours. 
Jaehyun sees less and less of you and spends more and more time with her. 
During a quick water break, he scans his phone briefly to see a text notification from you. He takes another swig of water and returns to the rehearsal.
It’s okay, he can always text you back later.
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9. Before U Go - TVXQ!
letting go.
“I will leave now.”
“Come on!” You tug both Mark and Yeri along excitedly. “I want to get good seats.”
Yeri rolls her eyes, but obliges anyway, pulling Mark along. It’s opening night for Jaehyun’s big musical and you wanted to be there no matter what to support him. Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Sicheng, and Seulgi are already inside waiting and you’re not sure if they were able to save the three of you a spot. 
After a long chat with Yeri, you apologized profusely to her. You did get blinded by your relationship with him and prioritized him over everything, forgetting your friends and other responsibilities in the process. Yeri forgave you easily and helped keep you in line when you went to head over heels for Jaehyun. 
However, after patching things up with Yeri, you begin to notice a shift in your relationship with Jaehyun’s. You’re not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost feels like a distance almost. 
You chalk it up to his busy rehearsal schedule and choose not to dwell on the topic, in fears of your wandering imagination. It should be fine. After his musical is over, he’ll be less busy and things will fall back into place. 
Right?
“Over here!” Seulgi waves over excitedly. 
The auditorium is starting to fill up and you want to get comfortable before the show starts. 
Everyone greets each other in hushed tones and soon enough, the show starts. 
Right. Everything will be fine.
--
Jaehyun does amazing. 
Your eyes are trained on him the whole time and his singing has goosebumps pricking your skin. You can see the passion pour through him every time he’s on stage and you couldn’t be more proud. 
A nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach points out the undeniable chemistry between him and his co-star, but you push it deep down and suppress it. 
They’re actors, and they’re good at what they do. 
Yeah. They’re just acting. Yeah. Acting.
--
When the curtains close, you’re the first to shoot out of your seat, eager to meet him backstage. You weave through the endless crowd of people, murmuring your ‘sorry’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ as you pass by. You reach the base of the backstage and shoot a message to let him know you’re waiting. You hum to yourself when you happen to overhear a conversation playing out. 
“You did so good, Jae.” 
“No, you definitely carried the show.” 
You turn up and you see them. Her eyes are almost soft and loving as she pulls your boyfriend in for a hug. They linger in the embrace longer than necessary and you clear your throat to catch his attention. 
He jolts just the slightest bit when he sees you and immediately lets her go. 
“Everyone’s waiting,” you say quietly. 
“Okay,” he nods. “Let me go get my stuff in the back.”
Jaehyun leaves the two of you alone and you wait for him to get back. 
When you leave, he waves goodbye to her and she smiles back.
--
Jaehyun’s celebration party is rowdy, but it’s to be expected when Johnny is the one hosting. 
He books a table at the local club and even orders bottle service. The eight of you work your way through two whole bottles of tequila and are already on your third. Jaehyun is downing the shots at a quicker pace than usual and you’re a bit concerned, but you’re unable to say anything because when you try, he whisks himself away to the dance floor and strikes up a conversation with someone else. 
You’re perturbed, but you say nothing. This is his celebration night and he can choose to enjoy it how he wishes. 
By the end of the night, Jaehyun is noticeably drunk and you haul him outside to get a breath of fresh air in hopes of sobering up. He’s heavy, but you make it out the side door. You prop him up on your side as you lean on the grimy brick walls. 
Months have passed and the weather is chilly. 
Jaehyun’s body sways and he murmurs something in your ear. You don’t catch it the first time, the overwhelming smell of tequila overtaking your senses. 
“What was that?”
He grumbles beneath his breath, steps staggering once more. He tries again, this time his words are crisp and clear and they cut into you in more ways than one. 
“I think we should end it.”
For someone so drunk, he sounds so sober.
You’re at a loss for words. A part of you knew this was coming from his lack of enthusiasm around you and his decreased texts. Even the cold night air couldn’t keep your heartbreak at bay. You say nothing, but you understand the both of you knew it was a silent agreement.
You breathe out wisps of chilled air as Jaehyun’s inebriated body stays slumped over on your side. 
--
You volunteer to take Jaehyun home.
You tuck him gently in bed making sure to prop him on his side in case he vomits during the night. You pour a glass of water and place an ibuprofen on his nightstand drawer for him in the morning. 
You kiss him on the forehead one last time. You hope it conveys all of the things brewing in your heart at the moment, but you know it doesn’t. 
Later, you leave his apartment with all of your belongings that you ever left there with the stars as your witness. 
You never return to his place again.
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10. Coffee Shop by B.A.P
what could’ve been.
“So without knowing, like a habit, I came here.”
Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed.
Morning sunlight streams through his blinds and burns at his skin as a sign to get ready for the day. He blinks the drowsiness from his system and stretches his weary joints before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 
On his rare day offs, he allows his body to go on auto-pilot. He completely shuts his brain off and allows it to do whatever it chooses.
Today, it takes him back to the cafe. 
His body knows where it’s going before it registers in his mind. 
The barista manning the order counter is different, but the decorations are the same, still the same succulents hanging from the ceilings. He mulls over the menu and goes up to order.
“Can I get an iced caramel latte?” Jaehyun doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s feeling nostalgic today. 
“Of course! Here’s your total.” 
He pays with a swipe of his card and the barista goes to work making his drink. He waits around by the counter and soon enough, his drink is ready. That particular table is empty, so he grabs a chair to sit. His first sip is overly saccharine, but he appreciates how the flavor mellows out by the end of it. 
It’s been nearly a year since that night. 
Jaehyun remembers waking up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He thought nothing of the prepared setup as he gulps the ibuprofen and the glass of water in one go. Nothing seemed amiss really until a few days later. 
No one mentioned your name around him and he caught Seulgi giving him a look every now and then. Mark didn’t say much either, but Jaehyun felt him drifting away.
He thought he’d feel a lot more, but he didn’t. One day you were a part of his life and then the next day you weren’t. It really was that simple.
He kept in contact with Joy even after La La Land was over and maybe they were something more, but it didn’t last longer than a few weeks. 
It didn’t feel right when he was with her. Again, something felt off, but a different kind of off.
Joy was the one to end things with him, but he didn’t mind too much. 
He filled his days with study and practice and it wasn’t until he landed a job at his local theatre company that he realized.
It was you. It was always you and perhaps it still is you. 
Maybe you were different. Maybe you were the one, but Jaehyun didn’t try.
He recalls feeling smothered. You were always there at the beginning, but he took that for granted. 
There are a lot of things he regrets, but above all, he regrets not talking with you. He regrets not trying to work on it. He regrets being a coward and running away at the first signs of true emotions. 
You weren’t perfect, but neither was he, but he should’ve stayed so the both of you could work it out together. Jaehyun always did take too long to find the courage to pursue what he wanted.
With a final sip, he finishes the drink and moves to throw it away. Then, he sees you. Here, in the flesh, in almost a year. 
Your hair is longer, but your cheeks are still as rosy as ever. You walk up to order and Jaehyun thinks it’s a sign. He moves to greet you, but the doors open again and in walk Yeri and Seulgi. He watches you greet them warmly with wide open arms. 
You always did give the best hugs.
Jaehyun watches the three of you chatter away and he feels acutely out of place in the little cafe. You look happy and he should move on. 
He throws his finished cup in the trash can and moves to exit through the side door, but he moves too slowly.
“Jaehyun, is that you?” You call out. He looks into your steady gaze and almost feels shy. 
“Yeah,” he’s quiet. “It’s been awhile.”
“It has,” you agree. “You look well.”
The smile you give him has him believing in second chances and maybe he’ll get it right this time.
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Note: i am so sorry that the second part is a hot mess express smh… there were a lot of things i planned and intended that didn’t happen, but i’ll just take this as a learning experience and write and better story next time. thanks for taking the time to read this !! <3
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masterlist.
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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years ago
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Avery the Fae/Reader, Lemon
You don’t dress up for Halloween.
Not your fault, though, really, because your professors show no mercy for holidays, especially not ones that don’t land them a day off. Classes go on as usual, and so you wake up the latest you can without risking a tardy and go off in the comfortable clothes you slept in. Except for some cat ears and one superman, everything is perfectly normal, and the day passes like almost every other, save for a ‘spooky drink’ coupon at the local cafe.
I probably don’t even need a costume, anyways, you think as you catch your reflection when passing those special mirror-like windows on one of the campus’ buildings. Frankly, you look like you crawled out of hell itself. Dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, hair all askew and uncooperative, mouth in a permanent stressed line.
A zombie, probably, you decide, taking a sip of that hot caffeinated mess you ordered from the cafe. A hot zombie, for sure, but a zombie no less. A part of you wants to skip your next class and take a nap, but you’ve already used up your one absence, and you aren’t in a position to risk your grade for sleep. No rest for the wicked, right? Right. Everything else goes as smoothly as can be expected for being sleep deprived, and the night class seems to drag on for a fully stretched eternity, but you are finally free to go home and do your five hours of homework. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can squeeze in two or three hours of sleep.
It’s because you’re tired, you think, stopping for a hot minute when you realize that you’re lost. You hadn’t been paying attention to campus’ many twists and turns in its paths, and so you must have wandered away from the buildings and onto the forest trail that hugs the dorms, except there’s no cement beneath your feet. Not even a dirt trail marks a way out, and you take a full moment to come to terms with being lost, on your own damn campus, no less. You aren’t any kind of simpering pansy, so you turn around and begin to retrace your steps. Which doesn’t work, unfortunately, because after a couple of minutes of walking, there’s nothing to suggest that you’re only a couple of paces from civilization.
Except a drum beat, behind you. It’s faint, probably a half-mile away, but it’s the closest thing you have to a way back, especially since your phone can’t seem to pick up any signal. Maybe one of the school’s many bands are practicing? Right, you’re just going to stumble out into the football field, twigs in your hair, looking very much like you’ve gotten into a fist-fight with the entire forest…
And… Not a band, you realize, stepping into a clearing, but a party.
A costume party, too, by the looks of it, with everyone in soft, flittery clothing and fitted masks. Interesting how everyone seems to be on the same page with the dress code, there’s usually that one dick who shows up in a hotdog suit, regardless of any previous agreements. Elegant is the word you’re looking for, you decide, running into something tall and solider, correction: running into someone tall and solid.
“Oh, hey, sorry,” you apologize, shifting your weight on either foot, “I’m a little lost.”
“I think that you are right where you want to be,” your stranger says, mouth turning up into a strange, fanged smile. His black mask is trimmed with gold, and it doesn’t seem like he’s costuming as anything specific; rather, it appears to be just for anonymity.
“I think I really want to be in bed,” you say, trying to share a mutual we’re in college and want to die of exhaustion moment, but he doesn’t respond with the same energy.
“Perhaps a drink of wine before you go?” He offers, holding out an actual goblet of some kind. Maybe the metal-working students pitched in? Or accepted a particular commissioned order? It looks like genuine gold, which adds to the whole aesthetic of the party.
“Uh,” don’t accept drinks you haven’t seen made, “I’m good for now, really. Just trying to get back home to study.”
“Hm,” he says, taking a good swig from the goblet he had just offered, “good question. Through the trees from whence you came, most likely.”
Of fucking course, he’s drunk and doesn’t know left from right. Great. What an excellent position you’ve put yourself in. Frustrated and confident he wouldn’t roofie himself, you snatch the goblet from his hand and down several large gulps of shockingly sweet wine, maybe a sangria? Or something sugared up to be palatable?
Swirling the goblet around, to seem sophisticated, you ask, “so is this some kind of rich person party? Like an Illuminati meeting or something?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you speak of.”
“Right.” You draw out the single syllable, landing hard on the t. LARPers, probably, but not unattractive ones. Those masks don’t hide everything, and the shape of his jaw is not something to balk at, and those lips? Not to be forward in your own brain or anything, but they’re certainly decent to look at. This has to be some kind of weird-ass club, or like a rich dumbass ritual or something, definitely not your average frat party with a variety of random drugs mixed into the mystery punch. “Do you go to school here?”
He looks down at your university sweatshirt, cocking his head slightly. “A place of learning, is it? No, I’m afraid I have not attended such an institution, but I must admit that I have been tempted.”
“Well,” you take another sip of wine, “it’s not bad, as far as universities go. With decent financial aid, too.”
“Best not to drink too much of that,” your stranger says, “it’s much stronger than it tastes, and it’s best you stay clear-headed for the evening’s festivities.”
“One cup can’t hurt,” you say, and then realize that he’s just volunteered you to join in on the fun. Which is kind of weird, you guess, but then again, you aren’t going to complain. This is a way more interesting place to spend your evening, but might as well prop your backpack underneath one of the tables, hiding it beneath the skirt of the pale white cloth. You eye the unmarked bottle that one of the party-goers holds, but set your goblet down by the expensive-looking chinaware, flexing your fingers as they begin to tingle with the warmness that comes with alcohol. “What’s the party’s theme?”
He cocks his head, as though confused.
“Like a…” you try to think of a different way to phrase it. “A topic you pick, and everyone has to adhere to it. The people here all look like they’re, like, what Victorian thought the fairies looked like or something. I think it’s the clothes.”
“We are Faeries, though,” he says, the sides of his mouth curving upwards.
“Hm,” you say, “of course you are.”
“Join me for this dance?” Your stranger asks instead of any rebuttals, holding out a hand.
You look over at the band that plays, masks of distinct animal-like features flickering in the light of the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, all instruments vaguely familiar, yet not. Some of them you think you’ve seen before, at maybe renaissance-themed festivals, but the others must be from some kind of distinctly obscure genre of music.
The heat from the fire seems to lick out at your fingers, or maybe it’s the alcohol, already making its way through your system, but you stare, transfixed, at the way the lyre player plucks at the strings of their instrument. The quick movement plays too much with your eyes, you barely see anything more than the blurs of fingers, and you suddenly realize that you are swaying in place.
“I don’t know how,” you say, snapping out of whatever trance you had been in.
“It’s rather simple, come here,” he takes one of your hands, shockingly not unwelcome. Perhaps the warmth of his skin against yours brings you a kind of peace that you need during this period of your life. “I will teach you.”
Your stranger is correct; the dance is fairly simple to learn, mostly because there are very few rules. Sway your hips. Let your feet bounce against the soft forest floor. Let him spin you around and around until your head almost feels light. You’ll be honest, he’s the one doing all the work, guiding you, adding more flair to your steps, one hand resting on your waist, the other weaving its fingers with yours. Now, you may not be one to go out and ballroom dance on the fly, but you would be alright admitting that this is kind of fun.
So you dance. And you dance. And you continue dancing, letting the music remove you from time and space, everything else fades away except for the thrumming drumbeat, the wind in the trees, and your partner. You don’t feel the need to gasp for air, nor do your legs give out and collapse, but you aren’t even aware of how much time has passed. You dance out your pain, your stress, and any alcohol that lingers in your system, a layer of sweat keeping your body cool in the autumn night’s air. An eternity, perhaps, a small piece of infinity shared between you and this stranger, or the briefest of moments that still yield the most intimate bit of time that two people can share.
The song ends- or perhaps, the band finally runs out of music to play. You don’t know what time it is, but you aren’t finished with the party, not yet. The stranger sets his hands on both your hips, eyes as red as the fires of hell, and offers you a promising smile, his shirt loosely clinging to his body, having lost the fancily embroidered vest at some point while dancing.
“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, making a snap decision not to let the night go to waste.
His smile widens.
The trees are your only audience when he brings you away from the rest of the party, the moon staring over the tops of the red and yellow leaves. The chill of the night might have discouraged anyone else, but you are broiling with energy and ready to continue moving wildly to keep warm. Despite barely being out of sight, you’re already working on his clothes, trying to find velcro or snaps of a cheap costume and failing rather miserably. He seems amused with your attempts, guiding your hands to find a variation of ties and buttons. Soon enough, you have his shirt off, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, revealing a chest etched in dozens of tattoos, red like blood against his pale skin, though it’s too dark to make out precisely what they are.
He seems to have a destination in mind, even though you steal most of his attention with kisses and touches. Even though you are in a place you’re sure no one would bother finding you in, he still seems determined to herd your desperate body further away from the camp, until the both of you get to a clearing, free of roots strangling the ground. Jupiter and Saturn stare blankly down from their perches in the sky, the stars surrounding them twinkling, as though applauding your conquest.
“I didn’t catch your name,” you gasp after a breathless kiss.
He pauses, almost put off by the request, like he’s startled you would even ask. Before you can even regain the ability to feel nervous, he says, “Avery.”
“Avery,” you repeat, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s a nice name.”
“And what may I call you?”
Like a fool, you give up your first name without much thought, but you are too excited about where the night is going to remember what you said even a second later. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because his mouth is against yours, and your back is on the cold, dewy grass before you even register that he pulled your legs off balance. He’s a good kisser, you think hazily, his lips traveling down from your mouth to your collarbone. His mouth is nice and hot against your skin, already sending pleasant little shivers down your spine as he works, and you find yourself grasping at the cold, dying grass of the earth in order to pull your spirit back to reality.
The insides of your belly melt as he lifts your shirt up over your breasts, and you’re quick to discard the garment as he sucks at the skin just above the hemline of your pants. He needs help with the button and the zipper, his lithe fingers struggling to figure out the mechanics, so you undo everything for him. After letting out a thankful grunt, he leans forward, pressing his lips right on your stomach, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark that may bruise in the morning.
Then he kisses the skin just above where your underwear ends, a jolting shiver pulsing through your core at the contact. When you glance down at him, the barest light emanating from the roaring bonfire only a few meters away, he seems so… focused, you think, at his task of slowly stripping the last bit of fabric away from your body. Methodically, he tugs, fingers threading through the straps at the side, his eyes glimmering in the light bleeding out from the moon herself.
Slowly, steadily, he presses his mouth where your leg and torso meet, nibbling at a bit of flesh before moving ever so slightly downwards, opening your legs and seemingly liking what he finds down there. Carefully avoiding any of your puckered, wet skin, he instead moves his lips just to the side, clearly enjoying the act of driving you to the brink of insanity. You can feel the smile he wears as he teases you further, switching over to your other thigh.
Almost impatiently, you wrap one of your legs around his shoulder, arching your back when he finally lashes his tongue out to trace the outline of your flower. A heated spark ignites through your nerves, a charge of fiery need flooding your body and into your core. He seems to enjoy the breathless whine you offered in response because he does it again, inching closer and closer to your clit.
Roughly, you tangle your fingers into his long, flowing hair, pulling him closer and begging with no words for him to stop teasing and finally give you the pleasure you need. Avery finally complies, pressing his tongue right up against your clit and tracing little circles on and around it. The heat of his breath only helps further stir the coals in your womb, your back arching against the gentle curve of the world as you cry out.
He seems to deeply enjoy your keening, popping off your puckered flesh in the brief moment it takes for him to smile up at you, like a beast satisfied with the tortured screams of its prey. The way his tongue moves up, around, and down your clit makes you want to die, dirt clinging underneath your fingernails, bits of grass tearing as you claw at the ground. Still, he takes your keening reaction to double his efforts, using his fingers when his mouth is busy elsewhere, rubbing gentle little patterns in the opening of your slit.
There, you can feel your orgasm approaching as he begins to explore your core with his thumb, pushing and rubbing against the throbbing folds with some level of curiosity in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, a passing observation.
You’re so beyond the point of return that you could barely even draw in the words to thank him before you’re overcome with shaking trembles emanating from your very core, your insides quick to bend and break at his beckoning. It doesn’t take much more teasing from Avery before you’re crying out for him, voice cracking with pleasure and desperation, your fingers threading through his hair so tightly you don’t know where you end, and he begins.
When you are nothing more than a heaping, teary-eyed mass of trembling flesh on the ground, he crawls up from between your legs, kisses your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, your collarbone, all the way up to your mouth once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and lips, warmer than the wine and almost twice as intoxicating, and by the wild stare in his eyes, he’s drunk with your nectar. And, quite frankly, ready to devour you, his kisses all teeth and heat, mouth dexterous against the curves, rises, and plateaus of your body, like he knows so very intimately every square centimeter of you.
There’s a hard rock length against your stomach, one that you can feel, almost tragically against your skin as he lavishes your lips and chest with his blessed attention. Even though you walked into this situation expecting a one-night stand, you don’t know, this feels light it could rocket through your life and end up becoming
“More,” you rasp, surprised that your voice is even working, ” more.”
He understands that rough and demanding command, stroking your hair with one of his free hands, mouth offering up a myriad of kisses to your neck and collarbone, an odd, overcoming need to please you emanating off of him, one like you’ve never dealt with before. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the familiar masks of those at the party earlier, but Avery turns your wandering gaze back to him with his insistent, feral kiss, his chest trembling with heated need.
“Do you want my cock inside you?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.
“Please,” you almost snarl, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Hmm,” he almost manages to fool you that he could care less, but by the way his body grinds and presses against yours, he’s so, so close to traveling the radius of the earth itself to comply. You can hear the rustle of fabric as he strips away what’s left of his ensemble, moving away from your body and leaving you almost horrifically cold.
It doesn’t take a lot for him to angle your legs properly, your thigh rubbing up against his throbbing member. He’s at least gentle with how he impales you, his entrance slow and gradual, kaleidoscope eyes staring so intently into your very being that you wonder if you’ll survive the next time pleasure crashes down around you. And he feels so good, the crisp, autumn grass against your back the only thing keeping you from becoming so lost beneath his trembling body.
He must share your thoughts because even though he’s only eased in, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing is short and shallow like he could hardly believe the pleasure your body gives him. Once he’s fully sheathed, he swears, voice quiet, yet filled to the brim with lust. You wrap your legs around his waist, hoping to feel him further, your voice and your body begging him to continue, to move, but he’s almost in a trance.
You’re impatient for movement, for that slick friction between your thighs, so you quickly take matters into your own hands. With no finesse, fueled only by spite and determination, you shift, switching positions using your legs and arms. Avery simply rolls with it, a ghostly smile on his mouth as you pin his hands to the ground, chest heaving from the effort, a layer of sweat misting your skin despite the chill of the night.
That seems to break whatever space he had retreated to, eyes lit like a roaring forest fire as he beholds your body from beneath your legs. His voice is raspy, but the demand is calm, collected, like he’s waited for thousands of years for this, for you. “Use me.”
You let out a breath, steadying yourself on his body to comply, and grind. His eyes roll back as you do, starting slowly, his back arching off the ground, his chest heaving with pleasure at the loss of control. Careful to control the pace, you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, the joining slick and hot, your core roaring with approval and greed. More, more, more.
Everything is suddenly vibrantly alive, the forest rustling with a wind you don’t feel, crickets singing hymns in the open field, the moon herself licking at your bodies with her soft, precious light. You think you hear chanting in the distance, your brain muddled with his delicious praises and lust that you don’t try to investigate, too focused on feeling his length pulse and move through your folds. Tears prick at your eyes, not from sadness, no, and you couldn’t possibly know their purpose because this feels so good, like his body was made for you.
This climax almost hurts, you felt it approaching and you knew it would be a lot, so you brace yourself, both hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline. You look into his eyes, and you see… more, than just fundamental attraction, more than pure, unadulterated lust, but you’re so far gone you can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, before you’re overcome.
Everything in your body is aflame, your core quaking enough to make you think, for just a brief moment, that the earth itself is tearing apart, you cry, you whine, you scream for him, and he’s there, holding onto you for dear life. Telling you that you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, that you’ll never want another man so long as your legs are wrapped around him so tightly like this. You think you believe him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, though he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
It takes a lot of concentration to bring yourself back into your body, your soul and spirit so besotted with desire, but you manage it, feeling his hands grip your thighs so tightly his fingers may leave bruise marks. You bend forward, letting him take the reins as you try to stay present enough in the moment to kiss and nip at his neck, teeth tugging at his skin, the aftershocks still moving through your nerves like waves on a storming night. Still, though, you want him to feel what you did, to become undone by your hand.
And he does, his thrusts becoming so uneven that you begin to grind, ghosts of your orgasm weaving through your flesh and womb. A crescendo of noise seems to overtake the clearing, the air becoming like static, the hairs on your arms standing on end. Overcome, he curses and snarls in a language you don’t understand, his voice hard and soft at the same time, his hips jerking as something warm and wet pulses out of his member, filling you up and spilling out onto his pelvis.
Avery sits up, still joined within you, shaken, but startlingly and brilliantly alive, chest heaving with the effort of breathing. He presses his mouth against yours in a myriad of kisses, soft, possessive, tender, needy. There is still some amount of desire on his lips, but without the same uncontrollable yearning broiling just beneath his fevered skin like before.
Then he says your name, and a shiver goes down your spine, your very being somehow attentive to whatever he says next, as though your entire universe suddenly floods down and descends on this one, single person. He says it again, rolling it over his tongue like a wine taster, trying out each of the letters as though they offer a different kind of sweetness, his eyes just as wild as they had been when you held him pinned to the grass. A sliver of fear pierces your chest, making you want to push him onto the ground and take him again, but he has other plans.
“I’ll walk you back, dove,” he says, pressing his mouth against your collarbone, though he doesn’t kiss you again, not yet. “The sun will soon be up.”
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knifekatt · 2 years ago
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My Customer is My Roommate!
Preview: After Denki’s roommate is hospitalized, Sero takes it upon himself to let the poor guy live in his apartment.
Includes: A character sick with Cancer, hospitalization, mild angst, hurt/comfort, college-aged characters and more
Cws: Cancer, grief
_______________________________________________
Chapter 1: an “unprofessional” customer-barista relationship
Shit. Shit. Shit. Sero couldn't believe his alarm hadn't gone off. It was only his second week working in that damn Cafe, and he was already going to get another tardy. He rushed out of his car, and into the Cafe.
“Sorry I’m late!” He shouted.
Mina, the girl he worked with, was at the counter, taking orders. She had curly cotton-candy colored hair, along with round orange sunglasses.
“Damn, talk about an entrance!” She grinned. “Start working on these orders, would ya?”
Then he remembered. Mina didn’t give a shit about him being late.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes.
He went up to the counter and began pumping out the fancy drinks they made, and then serving them to the right tables. Most people there were reading books or on a laptop.
A boy with bright hair around his age (college) came up to the counter and took the drink with the most caffeine. Sero saw Mina smile at the boy, and then she turned and handed Sero the order. Sero got to work, finishing it off with some latte art like always. He put the drink on a platter and carried it out to the boy’s table.
“Here you are, sir.” Sero smiled.
The boy took the drink and smiled back. Sero was about to walk away when he noticed that this boy was crying.
Fuck, I don’t know what to do, customers don’t normally cry. Should I ask him what’s wrong? No, that’s weird.
“Is the coffee not good?”
There was no way that sounded reassuring.
“Oh, yeah it’s really good! I just… Have some stuff going on at home.” The boy answered.
“Well, if you need anything, just ask for Hanta Sero at the counter.” He gave him a thumbs up.
I did everything I could. Now, back to work!
“Alright Mina, gimme the next order!”
Work had been lengthy, but it was finally over. He split the tip jar with Mina, and she had left ten minutes ago. It was already dark, but to be fair, it was winter. He put on a jacket and scarf, and then went outside. But he noticed a very familiar looking blonde in the corner of his eye. He was holding his phone, and the tips of his fingers were slightly blue.
“What’re you doing out there?” Sero asked.
The boy looked up in alarm, and then sighed in relief to see it was him.
“Nothing much. My Uber just cancelled. So I don’t know what I’m doing at this point.”
Sero thought for a second, and then sat next to him.
“Want a ride home?” He asked.
“I don’t have any money on me.”
Sero looked at him in confusion.
“Then why’d you order an Uber?”
“I thought I had money… But he cancelled when he found out I didn’t.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t charge.”
“Really?” The boy looked up at him.
“Really.” Sero confirmed.
They went over to his car and Sero turned the heat on. The boy put his hands out to the vents and a big goofy grin came across his face.
“It’s so warm!” He said, seemingly amazed.
“It’s called heat for a reason.” Sero started the car.
“Pfft, heat.” He leaned back in his chair.
Sero eyed him, but didn’t say anything about his dumb joke.
“What’s your address?”
The boy’s grin was gone.
“Drop me off at a hotel or something, please.”
“But you don’t have any money.”
“I know.”
A memory cane to Sero. “I just… have some stuff going on at home.”
Sero began driving, keeping his eyes on the road.
“So, what's your name?”
“Denki.”
He nodded. Then he pulled into the driveway to his apartment.
“This doesn’t look like a hotel…” Denki said.
“It’s not, it’s my apartment.”
Suddenly, the blonde looked terrified.
“Don’t give me that look, I’m not kidnapping you. But I’m not letting you sleep in the street, either.” Sero said.
He nodded with caution, and then followed him inside. Sero opened the door, and held it for him to come in.
“You can have the couch, this apartment is small as shit.” Sero told him. “I’ll get you some blankets from my room.”
Sero went into his room and gathered all of the extra blankets, and came out a few moments later. The blonde was sitting on the couch, he had taken his shoes off at the door, and he was glancing around at his surroundings. Sero tossed the blankets next to him.
“Thanks.” Denki smiled.
Sero nodded, and then started going back to his room when he felt Denki tug on his shirt.
“Can you stay for a bit? You don’t have to… but it’s just…”
“I get it.” Sero sat down next to him.
Denki squeezed a blanket gently, before pulling out his phone and scrolling.
“Do you… Wanna talk about it?” Sero asked.
“Wanna talk about what?”
“Why you were crying.”
“Y-yeah...” He nodded. “My best friend was admitted into the hospital today. He has cancer, and it’s getting worse. I just don’t know what to do.” Denki hugged the blanket Sero had handed to him.
This poor guy. I don’t know what I would do if Mina got cancer.
“There’s not much you can do, bud, just give your friend the support they deserve.” He patted Denki’s back.
“Thanks man.” Denki smiled.
“Again, just ask for Hanta Sero at the counter. I have classes in the morning, do you have anywhere you have to be?”
“No, they gave me some time off as soon as they found out. I have no idea where I can go, I had to sell the apartment for money to pitch in for my friend’s treatment.” Denki started crying again.
Damn it. I’m going to regret this.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok, you can stay here as long as you get a job and pitch in, k?” Sero tried to soothe him.
Fuck, I don’t even know this guy.
“Why’re you being so nice to me?” He asked through tears.
I don’t know.
“Because that sounds tough. Why wouldn’t I help you?” Sero shrugged.
“You don’t pity me, do you?”
“If I’m going to be honest, yes, I can’t imagine what that’s like. But don’t worry about it, I was lonely anyways.” Sero said.
Sero looked at the clock. It was already nine.
“Ready to go to sleep?” He asked.
Denki nodded and laid down. Sero went to his room and collapsed into bed.
What a day… I can’t believe my customer is my roommate. Sero sighed, closing his eyes.
Sero woke up to a burning smell. He jumped up, and rushed out of his room and into the living room, turning towards the kitchenette. He stared face-to-face with his new roommate… burning the egg he was cooking.
“Sorry! I just wanted to make it up to you…” Denki said nervously.
“What you can do to make it up to me is help pay the fucking rent. Please don’t burn my food.” Sero said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Ok, I’m sorry.” Denki threw the egg out and began washing the pan.
Meanwhile, Sero poured himself cereal. It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst either. He preferred coffee.
“So, where are you going to get a job?” Sero asked in between bites.
“I’m planning on applying to the corner store nearby.” Denki answered.
“You do that, after you wash the dishes. After work, I can drive you to your friend’s.” Sero said, putting his now empty bowl into the sink.
Sero walked over to the door when he felt Denki hug him from behind.
“Thank you! I’ll do my best.”
He turned around to see Denki smiling brightly, he looked just like the sun.
Cute..! Wait, no, that’s gay. Sero scolded himself.
“Of course.” He grinned warmly in return.
As he closed the door behind him, he felt his face get red.
Stop it! He’s not cute! Sero tried to stop thinking about his smile, and was eventually able to.
Sighing, he got into his car and blasted heat into the vehicle. The warmth was nice. With that, he began driving to his classes.
It was snowing lightly outside. Sero had the window seat for this class, so staring out onto campus felt peaceful. His professor was rambling on a story that had happened a hundred years ago, and a few of the students were scribbling notes while others were reading along. Every now and then, the echo of page turning would come. Sometimes, footsteps would come from the hallway.
Then the bell rang.
I hope Denki is doing ok.
Sero picked up his many books and went into the wide halls. He could hear chattering and laughter, and he could feel others bumping into him. Once he had cleared the crowd, he pulled out his phone.
-
Denki
I got the job :)
Great job!
I’ll be right over after work.
Kk
-
Sero felt relieved as he put his phone back into his pocket. He went back down to his car, and went to the usual Cafe. He may call it shitty, but it was like home to him. Nothing could change that. He walked into the Cafe confidently.
“Good afternoon, Mina!” He said, one hand in his hair.
“Sero! Your outfits in the back!”
Today, Mina had a white and orange bandanna to keep her cotton-candy hair out of her face. Her glasses were thin and wiry, and she wore the Cafe’s official outfit.
Sero got dressed and began making and serving drinks. And in the corner of his eye, he saw a certain blonde.
Hurrying on drinks, he went to serve Denki what he had ordered.
“Why the fuck are you here?” Sero whispered loudly.
“I felt like a latte.” Denki shrugged.
“What about-“
“My first shift starts tomorrow and I had like two bucks left. The coffee here is cheap man.”
Sero gave up and handed him the coffee. Sero went back over to the counter.
“Sero, is that your boyyfriennnnnd~?” Mina asked, putting her hands on her cheeks and swayed in a mocking way.
“No, no it’s not. He’s my roommate.” He groaned.
But he is kinda cute… Wait, stop that!
“Then… Why are you blushing?” Mina smiled and raised her eyebrows.
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Sero pushed her lightly, slightly embarrassed.
Then Denki started waving. “Sero, why don’t you come drink with me.”
Mina eyes Sero up and down. “Uh-huh.”
Sero sighed, but made himself some coffee and went to sit down with Denki. The blonde seemed super excited and was talking about his super dramatic time in Highschool, and in most of the stories he told he was the one being stupid and dramatic, but that was ok. The stories entertained Sero. He often found Denki laughing at the most stupid of things, and Sero couldn’t help think that was adorable.
And too soon, the Cafe has to close. They walked out together and got in the same car, which only made Mina pester him over text.
He sighed, before getting in the car with Denki and looking at his watch.
“You ready to see your friend?” Sero smiled.
Sero tightened his grip on the wheel, and he kept glancing over at Denki and back at the road. Denki had a certain aura of nervousness to him, with his hands twitching and fingers fidgeting with the laces on his soft pikachu hoodie.
“You ok?” Sero asked.
“Yeah.” He replied, but his voice was distant.
Sero reassuringly put his left hand over Denki’s wrist. He flinched at the touch, but seemed grateful.
It was then Sero made a turn into the hospital driveway, before turning the car off and pausing. He let out a sigh.
“We’re here.”
Denki nodded slowly.
The two walked down the quiet halls. It was late evening, so there weren’t many visitors. The scent of sickness and cleaning products was thick in the air. Sero looked over to Denki, who still seemed a little off. He wanted to reassure him, and let him know everything was going to be alright, but he wasn’t sure how. He clenched his fists, slightly frustrated.
Denki came to an abrupt stop in front of a room. He looked over to Sero and nodded. Sero’s brows furrowed before he nodded back. The door creamed as it opened, and the loud heart monitor became apparent in the background as they entered the room.
In the room, a bald boy with red eyes laid in a bed, along with a platinum blonde leaning back in a chair beside him, his head bent over and his mouth gaping open.
“Hey, Kiri.” Denki smiled.
“Denki! Hey, bro, it’s been a minute.”
Denki nodded.
“Who’s the guy standing behind you?”
“Oh!” Denki has seemed to have forgotten about Sero, but Sero thought his reaction was cute nonetheless. “This is Sero, my new roommate.”
Denki looked over at the platinum blonde before seeming to realize something.
“Can we talk to Bakugo?”
‘Kiri’ shook his head. “He’s been worrying about me all day, let him rest.” His eyes became sad. “I really wish I could be strong enough for you two.”
“Don’t say that.” Denki whispered. “You're strong enough already. You always have been.” He looked at him straight in the eyes.
His expression softened. “Thank you.”
Denki looked away for a few moments. Then said, “How did the surgery go?”
“It went great! I’ll be out of here soon, I promise.” The teen said while smiling brightly.
Denki nodded, and then left the room. Sero looked a little shocked, then followed.
“How’re you holding up?”
“I don’t know. I’m happy. But I’m also scared. I… I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”
Sero put his arms out. “Would a hug help?”
Denki looked up at him and nodded. Sero pulled him close to his chest as Denki let out a shaky breath.
“These words may not seem like much, but it’s going to be okay. Maybe not right now, maybe not tomorrow, but within the near future.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do. Have some confidence in me, alright?” Sero shrugged, and then let his arms fall, but Denki grabbed them.
“No, this is nice. Can we… Stay like this? For a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
“And Sero?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The next morning was a lot more calm. And even though Sero had never seen Denki mentally stable, he was acting what Sero would think as his normal. He seemed a little all over the place, making random jokes, being clumsy, and doing lots of finger guns.
Wow, he really is cute no matter what he does… Sero smiled warmly.
“Do you have work today?” Sero asked.
“Nope!” Denki said.
“Yeah, Saturday’s my day off too. Wanna go out to eat?”
“Alright!” Denki exclaimed loudly, his hands forming fists as he looked at Sero excitedly. “Can we get ice cream?!”
“You're going to ruin your teeth.” Sero sighed.
“Please?! Please, please, please, please?”
“Okay, okay. Ice cream.”
“Thank you!” Denki rushed forward to hug him, before rushing out the door and towards the lot where Sero kept his car.
Sero sprinted after him, and he couldn’t help but grin to himself. Denki was like a puppy. An adorable, excitable puppy.
“Brrrrr,” Denki murmured while shivering as Sero arrived.
“Forget your jacket?”
Denki nodded.
Sero unzipped his own and handed it to him.
“You're the best.” Denki rubbed his shoulders in relief.
“Anytime.”
Denki hummed while looking out the window, seemingly daydreaming, while Sero tried to figure out which ice cream place was the best one to go to. Since the one he picked ended up being just around the corner, they got there pretty quickly. Sero grabbed his wallet and got out of the car, and looked over at the small shop.
It was very colorful, with bright signs to attract customers and some plain tables outside. Sero saw Denk lick his lips before speed walking inside, Sero following close behind him while smiling to himself.
He’s so easy to please. I wonder how else I could brighten his day..? Sero thought, and then shook his head. Stop that! Even if I was gay, which I’m not, Denki is probably straight. I’m just going to end up hurting myself.
“Sero?” Denki asked.
‘What?”
“Oh, nothing, you just stopped right at the door and started looking at your feet. It was weird, that’s all.” Denk shrugged.
“Sorry, I dazed off.” Sero said while walking in.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Since there was a pretty long Lin they had to wait patiently at the back. The silence was a little awkward, so Sero tried to think of conversation starters.
It’s easy. This is easy. You’ve had conversations with him before, it’s not any different. Just ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask him! Sero’s mind buzzed.
“Are you gay?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.
Fuck! That’s not how you start conversations! He scolded himself as he felt his face get increasingly red by the second.
“I mean, kind of?”
“Wait, what?” Sero turned quickly, almost shocked by his response.
“I don’t really care about gender, I just want my partner to be hot.” Denki grinned while nodding off into the distance.
Sero sighed with relief, but then he turned into a tomato. It was possible. If he wanted to, and if Denki wanted to, they could be together. He covered his face quickly, not fond of the idea of Denki seeing him like this.
“Next!”
Finally, a way out of this situation.
“I’ll take vanilla please.”
They sat in a booth right next to each other. Sero let his mind wander as he ate his ice cream. And to his surprise, the first thing that came to mind was Denki’s sick friend.
“He was worrying about me all day.” That’s what his friend had said, and then after that he said he would be getting out of the hospital soon. But why would someone be worrying about a teen that was just about to get out? Well, he could be a worrywart. What was his name? Bakugo?
“Is Bakugo a worrywart?” He asked
“Not at all! He never really actually worries unless he knows it’s serious, and when he does worry he never really shows it. It’s stupid, really. We’re his friends! He should trust us with his emotions.” Denki said, looking rather annoyed.
Well, looking back, the equipment in Denki’s friend’s room wasn’t light. He had a heart monitor, an IV, something to help him breathe, and a few other machines Sero wasn’t able to identify. That wasn’t something someone who was “about to get out of the hospital” would have. Then it clicked.
Denki’s friend had been lying.
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Text
EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 21 - SECRETS AND TRUTHS
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Hello all, Finally the new chapter of Edinburgh to Boston is ready.
As I said in my update this has not been betaed. Therefore, any mistakes. lack of continuity or general mess-ups are all mine. I hope you will forgive me and overlook them. It took some re-writing when I read it over several times and I hope I caught all the mistakes.
This has been my baby for a long time and honestly, I think that was another reason that took so long to finish it as this is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue to clean up some things that are hanging around.
Just because this is the last chapter, does not mean this is the end. I can't really let go of these two people. They are so dear to my heart. Besides that, as I wrote this I realized that I did not totally address the opening premise that I made. If you recall I said that Fate and Destiny had their hands in seeing these two come together. There are other stories to tell about how such forces brought them together. I do plan a Part II but how I will do it has yet to be planned out.
I can't thank you all enough for being patient with me during times of difficulty when it took so long to get a chapter posted. I am so honored that so many of you liked this story which I honestly thought was going to fall flat on its face. I never dreamed I would get the response to it that I did. I thank you all for reading, commenting, giving the story some love. I am truly overwhelmed by your kindness.
As always I need to thank my betas who helped me along the way and gave me the encouragement to continue when I didn't think I could do it. @scubalass you're the best.
Without further ado and a tear in my eye, I give you Chapter 21 Edinburgh to Boston.
Edinburgh to Boston
Chapter 21
Secrets and Truths
“Come On! Come On! COME ON!” Claire groused at the tardy lift. It really wouldn’t do to be late for surgery on her first day back to work. She wanted to give the damn thing a good kick but thought better of it since she would be standing for most of the day. The idea of standing on a sore foot did not appeal to her.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what is taking this thing so long? For a new building, you would think they would have installed a better lift system.” Finally, the doors slid open on the fifth floor where the cardiothoracic surgery department offices were located.
She ran down the corridor trying to free herself from her coat while hanging onto the bag containing her morning fix.
Claire ran through the building’s front door shouting a greeting to Eddie, the security guard on duty. She made a beeline for the Cafe to get her morning coffee before going up to her office. It would be a long and trying day and the caffeine jolt would serve as her means of survival.
Niall stood behind the counter and grinned at her. “Late Dr. B?”
“Whatever made you think so?” she replied rather dryly. Her face was flushed and her hair exploded out from her wooly cap.
“Just a wild guess,” he smirked.
“Humph!” she snarled. “I would love to stand and chat with you but I have surgery in an hour. I’ll have a…”
“Here it is Dr. B. Large black coffee with one sugar and a raisin scone.” Niall smiled showing her the takeaway bag with her name on it.
She looked flustered, “How did you…”
“Dr. Fraser came by earlier. He ordered for you thinking you might be...um, in a hurry.”
“You say Dr. Fraser’s here already?” Claire grimaced ashamed of her lateness. It seemed, however, that curiosity got the better of her. Doing her best to look nonchalant, she casually asked, “Um, how did he look? Tired was he?” Dark smudges rimmed her eyes from lack of sleep. Claire would have liked nothing more than to curl up in bed and pull the covers over her head.
“Nay, no’ at all. Dr. Fraser said he worked out in the gym first then ran here. He looked quite hale and hearty actually. A wee bit pink from the cold, but truly well.”
“Of course, he did,” mumbling with annoyance to herself, “the man is made out of steel.”
Opening her overstuffed slouchy bag, she began the ritual of hunting for her wallet.
Cocking his head to the side, Niall pushed the bag toward Claire, “Oh, and he paid for this too.”
“Thank you, Niall and I’ll thank Fraser when I see him.”
Grabbing the bag, she made a mad dash toward her arch-enemy, the lift.
As usual, the ride to her floor became an act of slow torture and unmitigated agony. Once the lift doors opened, she sprinted down the corridor shaking one arm out of her coat while juggling her purse and the bag with its precious contents in the other hand. As she arrived outside her office door, her other arm managed to jiggle out of its sleeve. Finding the key to her office would require a balancing act considering the disordered state of her handbag. Placing her coat between her teeth and the bag containing her coffee and scone between her knees, not the soundest of ideas mind, she rummaged inside her handbag. Of course, the key could not be found being buried in the deep recesses of the purse. Needing a little extra stability, Claire leaned against the doorway. The door swung open making her lose balance and stumble into the room. Her mouth opened, squawking in surprise causing the coat to drop to the floor. Flailing hands pinwheeled around trying to maintain equilibrium rather than land ignominiously on her arse. She managed to keep her footing but lost the grip on her purse and watched as the contents tumbled out spilling haphazardly around the room. By some miracle, the sack with the coffee and scone remained intact. Not a drop of the rejuvenating liquid spilled. Which, of course, was the most important thing.
Surveying the mess she had inadvertently created, Claire concluded it was going to be one of those days. No doubt about it. And to make matters worse, she would have to operate without Fraser. Not to have his strong capable hands there moving in concert with hers, well the thought just soured her stomach. Of course, Pound would be there to help, but he was still in training even if he was Chief Fellow and she would still have to monitor him.
Mumbling words that a lady should not use, Claire picked up her coat and tossed it on a chair. On her hands and knees, she crawled around picking up the scattered bits and bobs shoving them back in the purse.
Standing, she walked toward her desk and saw it. In the middle of the desk stood a small beautifully cut crystal vase filled with forget-me-nots, white heather, and baby’s breath. A handwritten card placed in front of the flowers was written in a distinctive script declaring, Tha gaol agam ort, J. Claire could not read Gàidhlig but she instinctively knew what it meant. Her eyes misted over as she touched the delicate blooms.
How do you do it, Jamie Fraser? You take a terrible day and turn it into something magical.
Claire put on her lab coat, grabbed the bag with her coffee and scone, and walked out closing the door behind her. She strolled toward her nemesis, the lift, smiling and humming happily.
****************
“Aye, that’s right. See how Dr. Beauchamp keeps her field clear. It gives ye an unobstructed view and prevents postoperative infection.” Jamie turned to look at his students and they all dutifully nodded in appreciation.
“Watch how Dr. Beauchamp creates the anastomosis. Then she’ll tie it off. See how she makes her knots! ‘Tis a thing of beauty, is it no’? Perfect technique!” Jamie praised. Peering at his beloved, he saw her eyes crinkle with pleasure and her cheeks blazed red above her mask.
He came alive while he watched her work. As a surgeon, she was smart, talented, and highly sought after. Not only because of her skill but because she deeply cared about her patients. Some colleagues thought her “too involved” or believed her gender would make her“too soft” to become a competent cardiothoracic surgeon. Other critics thought her involvement with her patients would undermine her professionalism.
They had made love. Legs twined together; her head rested on his shoulder while his arm curled around her protectively. Jamie turned on to his side just enough to allow him to see her nakedness gilded by the moonlight. She curled into him clinging to him like a limpet anchored to a rock. Her muscles tense where normally she lay in his arms boneless after their intimacy. Finding a particularly tight knot he massaged it and felt it go slack.
“Is something wrong, my own? Did I no’ please you?” he asked anxiously.
“No, you were wonderful, really, Jamie. It’s just me. I started thinking. I don’t know why. But it’s nothing at all truly. I’m fine, just fine.”
“Sassenach, I ken well enough what ‘I’m fine means. Why dinna ye tell me what’s upsetting ye.” Jamie pulled her closer, tucking Claire’s head under his chin.
“We need to go back soon,” she said in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible. “And I’m so happy here with you,” she looked up into those startling blue eyes. “Then I started thinking about what it took for me to get this far in my career. My residency. My Fellowship. And suddenly I wondered if it was all worth it. I wondered if they were right in the end.”
“Who was right, Sassenach?”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire shared her trials as a cardiothoracic fellow. The competition for the position had been fierce. Only the top five candidates were called back to interview for the one open position. Even though she was highly ranked among the candidates for the fellowship, her prospective mentors suggested that perhaps she would be more suited to pediatrics, dermatology, or aesthetics as one of those specialties might suit her female sensibilities better. They had suggested cardiothoracic surgery might be too rigorous for a woman. The hours too demanding for a married woman. What would her husband say? Wouldn’t she like to have a family someday?
“The only qualification I didn’t have was I didn’t have a prick,” she said with some bitterness. She never expected an easy time. A distinct amount of sexism existed in medicine and women were not welcomed with open arms. She worked the worst schedule and given the most complex cases. Evaluations were harsh and judgmental. All done in the hopes that she would quit. Instead, it just made her work harder. And she turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the mockery heaped on her. Claire succeeded where many others failed. She became their first female Chief Fellow; won several prestigious awards for her research. More importantly to Claire, her patients thrived.
“I am beginning to think they were right about some things. There is so much more to life. Much, much more,” she said drowsily. “And I want to have it. All.” Yawning, her eyes fluttered closed, and fell into a contented sleep.
“Aye, mo nighean donn, ye will. I’ll see tae it,” and leaned over kissing her brow.
Truly Claire is a woman of rare spirit, he thought. A woman who overcame many challenges and obstacles from an early age and was better for it. After all, she survived a plane crash that claimed the lives of her parents, lived like a vagabond with her archeologist uncle, and prevailed over a nightmare marriage. Many people would have been crushed under such hardships. But not his Sassenach; she endured. She managed to overcome them and emerge victoriously. A woman of rare spirit indeed. And one who deserved to be loved and loved well.
Jamie’s narrative kept pace with Claire’s every movement. Occasionally, he fired off questions at various intervals to his followers which they answered to his satisfaction. They remained throughout the entire procedure until skin closure finished and the patient made ready for transfer to the CSICU.
“Dr. Pound will accompany the patient to their room and start to write the postoperative orders. Please go with him. I will meet you over there.”
“Dr. Beauchamp, a word if ye please about yer next case,” called Jamie.
“Of course, Dr. Fraser. I would be delighted.”
The doctors exited the operating room on the pretext of being nothing more than two colleagues engaged in a discussion about a patient scheduled for surgery that afternoon. They approached an out-of-the-way corridor between the OR and the CSICU stealing down the passageway like two thieves in the night. Jamie’s head spun around looking for anyone who might have observed them. Deciding that they had not been seen, he seized her hand and pulled her into a little-used utility room. He locked the door behind them and drew her close, kissing her thoroughly.
“I missed ye.”
Claire cuddled into him resting her head on his chest. “I missed you too.”
Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. “Come here,” she whispered as she tugged his head down toward her.
Claire kissed him once, then twice.
“No’ that I’m complaining but what’s that for?”
“One was for the coffee, the other was for the scone. This one,” her voice turned provocative, “is for the flowers.” Her mouth latched onto his giving him a proper thank you kiss. The kiss, a searing flame, igniting them like a match to dry kindling. It left them both breathless and wanting for more.
She pressed firmly against him. He could feel her nipples rigid and taut through the thin scrub top. He knew she felt him; his hardness pressed against her body. If only I were home with her I’d carry her off to bed. This thought, naturally, made things much worse for him.
“How did you manage it?” she asked, her voice a sultry husky tone.
“Ewan gets the credit.”
“Be sure to thank him for me.” Claire crushed her body closer to his taking in his warmth. She buried he nose against him absorbing his smell. His scent was masculine, with the tang of antiseptic and just a dash of laundry starch hovering around him. Some things completely stirred her soul.
Clearing his throat, Jamie asked in a shaky voice, “Will ye, ah, will ye… Christ Claire, I canna think with ye so close tae me. Will ye take yer lunch with me?”
“Yes,” she said breathily.
“Why don’t ye go dictate yer op notes while on check on Pound? I’ll meet ye in about thirty minutes.”
“That’s a fine idea,” she leaned forward giving him a quick kiss. “Don’t be late.”
Jamie opened the door enough to peek out and found the corridor remained empty.
“Ye go first, I’ll follow after ye shortly.”
Claire slipped through the door while Jamie watched as she left. He noticed a little extra sway to her hips as she walked away. Damn little vixen. She did it on purpose. Sighing, he closed the door and leaned his head against it. He would have a wait a minute or two until his “problem” disappeared. It was becoming truly uncomfortable as he sought to adjust himself. “She’ll be the death of me yet.”
***********************
Walking into the CSICU after completing a successful surgery always filled Jamie with a certain satisfaction. He felt overjoyed that he and Claire helped patients return to their life, their work, their family, and without pain. He would tell patients, when he first met them, that this surgery was “enabling”. It would enable them to return to the life they wanted and not become a bystander.
With that thought in mind and a large grin on his face, Jamie swiped his badge across the electronic keypad granting him entrance into the Unit. The sounds of controlled chaos greeted him, voices raised, ventilators whooshing delivering needed oxygen, the soft beeping of heart monitors keeping time with healing hearts, IV pumps clicking as they delivered medication critical to the patient’s recovery.
He walked briskly toward the nurses’ station with gladness in his heart for he was back where he belonged.
“Fiona, ‘tis good tae see ye. How have ye been?” he inquired of the Unit’s charge nurse.
With the sound of his voice all conversation, all activity ceased, and every eye fastened onto him. The silence in the room would have been deafening if not for the continued mechanical sounds. Jamie became keenly aware of the absence of sound and the staff rooted in position. And just as quickly as it started it ended with activity resuming at its normal pace.
Fiona MacGowen kept her eyes glued to her computer screen, deliberately not making direct eye contact with the doctor. “Oh just braw, Dr. Fraser, just braw. Dr. Beauchamp’s patient is in Room 10 with Dr. Pound, Elspeth, and Iona getting him settled,” she said with her lips slightly turning up in a smile. “They’ll be waiting on ye.”
“Thank ye, Fiona. I’ll go and see how they are getting along.”
Jamie walked away, stopped, and turned back to look at Fiona once more. He thought her behavior a bit strange. Generally, one would say Fiona was a gregarious person with the reputation of being a chatterbox. Today, however, she acted more like a nun under a vow of silence. But to be honest, as he gazed around the Unit once more, everyone’s behavior seemed strange. And he had yet figured out what to make of it.
As Jamie approached the room the sounds of busyness gave the impression of a beehive humming with activity. As he stepped into the entryway, activity ceased. Again, all that remained was the soft mechanical sounds made by the life-sustaining equipment.
Elspeth stood quite still and uttered a little gasp. Meanwhile, Iona took a step back bumping into the ventilator; her eyes round with surprise. Dr. Pound cleared his throat glaring at the two nurses. They resumed their usual pleasant expressions with lips curling up into crooked smiles.
Jamie looked at the three of them thinking his team had gone daft.
“‘Tis good to have ye back Dr. Fraser,” declared the Fellow. “The ladies and I were just finishing getting Mr. MacNichol set up.”
Pound grabbed one of the portable workstations and began reviewing the patient’s current vitals as well as the orders he had written with the surgeon. They discussed the ventilator’s and pacemaker’s current settings, and when to call Dr. Beauchamp with any changes to her patient.
“Well-done, well-done. Mr. MacNichol is in very capable hands,” he smiled at his team. “I am off to lunch. Ye ken how to reach Dr. Beauchamp or me.”
Jamie walked out of the room and on impulse turned back to see the three heads buried in whispered conversation. He shook his head and left thinking about having lunch with Claire wanting to discuss the staff’s strange behavior with her.
Preoccupied with his thoughts, Jamie walked smack into his cousin Rupert almost knocking him down. Extending his arm quickly he caught his cousin by the shoulder steadying him.
“Sorry about that Rup. Doing a bit of wool-gathering I suppose.”
“Oy must be something awfully important to have ye so distracted.”
“I promised Claire I would have lunch with her and I dinna want tae be late.”
“Tae tell ye the truth, I am on my way tae find Geillis. We’re supposed to have a bite together too. Suppose ye two join us, aye?” He grinned broadly, “Twill be interesting to see if the plan
succeeded.”
“Sounds like a good idea cuz,” Jamie clapped an arm around Rupert’s shoulder as they strode off in search of the lasses.
************************************
Seated at one of the dictation corrals, Claire began her op notes. Her cardiac anesthesiologist, Geillis Duncan took the hutch next to her.
Dr. Duncan was a beautiful woman, with a trim figure, flaming red hair, and eyes as green as spring grass.
“Claire, ‘tis good tae have ye back. I’m sorry I dinna have much of a chance tae speak with ye this morning before the case. Did ye enjoy the conference?” Dr. Duncan gave Claire a sly side-long look.
“Wouldn’t you know it, Boston had a blizzard and the speakers weren’t able to make it.”
“No. What a shame. Ye flew all that way for nothing,” she sympathized.
“Too bad, right? Dr. Fraser and I were looking forward to hearing about those peripherally inserted heart valves.”
“Aye, but ye had the fox cub with ye. Perhaps it wasna so bad after all,” she leaned over jabbing Claire in the side. “Did ye maybe get tae share a room and have a go at him between the sheets, um?” She gave Claire a wicked smile. “I ken if I was snowed in with him, I would.
“Geillis!” Claire swore. She blushed from her hair roots to her toes.
Geillis gave her a sly smug smile. “After all, Georges X is an exclusive luxury hotel. Verra private, and verra, verra discrete. Or so I’ve heard,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “They have those flowers, all over the place. What are they? Orchids? she asked while tapping her nail against her white teeth feigning an attempt at recalling. I understand the lobby is decorated with a fortune in artwork. The rooms are quite grand, are they no’, with a fireplace, champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, fine whiskey. And I hear the bed is big enough to sleep an entire family. How could ye no’ entice him into yer bed, is what I want tae know?”
Claire glared at her friend, “What I want to know is how you know I stayed at Georges X. I know I never told you.”
Geillis chuckled nervously, “Why of course ye did. How else would I ken that?” Geillis became uncomfortable under Claire’s scrutiny.
“Spill it, Duncan. You know more than you’re telling.”
Geillis affected a look of innocence, “I swear tae ye Claire, I dinna ken anything.” She nervously scanned the area looking for any means of escape from further questioning. Her eyes latched on to Dr. Rupert MacKenzie ambling directly toward her, along with Jamie. “I need tae go. I promised tae meet Rupert for lunch. See ye later, Claire.”
Reaching out, Claire grasped Geillis by the forearm, “That’s a load of rubbish and you know it. I suspected there was something dodgy about that trip right from the beginning. I need answers and you have them, Duncan. You’re coming with me.”
************************************
The two male surgeons walked amicably through the corridor talking and laughing as Rupert entertained Jamie with tales of hospital gossip. As they approached the physician workstation, they noticed a loud commotion that seemed to be attracting a crowd. Jamie wondered what caused the kerfuffle this time. Most such squabbles centered around obtaining a certain OR room or available time for surgery. This behavior bordered on the ridiculous in his opinion.
As the men came closer to the center of the fray, they saw two female doctors engaged in a struggle. One of them had wild brown curls bouncing around her head. Claire? The second doctor had hair the color of flame. That head of hair belonged to the fiery Geillis Duncan. He quickened his pace needing to reach Claire.
“Claire! Claire,” he called, “What’s amiss?”
“‘Claire’ he calls her now. No’ Dr. Beauchamp,” Geillis snorted.
Claire’s posture had all the hallmarks of frustration and anger as she tried to drag her colleague toward the doctor’s lounge.
Claire’s eyes locked on Jamie, “It seems that Dr. Duncan knows a great deal about our trip. Particularly where we stayed and I want to know how.”
Rupert took Geillis firmly by the elbow and leaned over to hotly whisper in her ear, “Wha’ have ye done woman!?”
Cold green eyes glared fixedly up at him disliking his insinuation. “I may have spilled a bit of tea is all,” she said, wrenching her arm free of his grip.
“Sounds more like ye spilled the whole damn pot,” he growled at her. “Ye ken they were never supposed to find out, at least no’ this way. We were supposed to tell them gentle like. Now what?”
Dr. Duncan gave her shoulders the tiniest of shrugs. “Dinna fash. We’ll think of something,” and walked toward the lounge.
He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, “Aye, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
Rupert held the lounge door open for his co-conspirator trying to usher her quietly into the room. Geillis, however, turned to observe Jamie and Claire huddled deep in discussion.
“Are ye both going to stand there all day blethering, or are ye coming? I’m hungry and I want my lunch.” she snapped.
The crowd lingered about waiting for the fuse to be lit and the fireworks to begin. Dr. Duncan had a very volatile reputation easily flying into pieces like an unstable explosive device. Whereas, Dr. Beauchamp was a genial person, kind and caring. But, the one thing she was not was a meek individual. When pushed beyond her tolerance limits, she could be as ruthless as a she-wolf defending her pups.
Jamie placed his hand firmly on the small of Claire’s back giving her a little nudge forward. The crowd began to murmur heads close in a whispered discussion, Some rudely pointed a finger at his hand on her back, while others outright stared. Jamie flushed. He should have known such an intimate placement of his hand would draw attention. They saw he claimed her. Not knowing how Claire would feel about this public display, he thought he needed to break up this crowd before someone accidentally said something.
“Show’s over everyone. Just a private meeting among friends. Nothing tae see here. I’m sure ye all have some work tae do. Patients are waiting for ye. Go on with ye.” Jamie said dismissing the loitering group.
Following behind Claire, Jamie entered the room and shut the door.
Claire wanted to get to the bottom of things quickly and stormed up to her colleague in a blazing fury. “Alright Duncan, spill what you know.”
“I already told ye. I dinna ken anything about ye trip. As I said either you or Jamie must have mentioned where ye were staying. Beyond that, I dinna ken anything.”
Jamie looked at Claire and shook his head signifying that he had never mentioned the hotel to anyone.
“Um-hm. Since when does this institution send a chauffeured car to pick up two staff surgeons? For the Chief certainly but not for ordinary staff personnel. And we’re supposed to believe that the hospital made five-star accommodations with all expenses paid for us? Hmm? I think not. Did I not say so, Jamie?”
“Aye, ye did. Several times.”
“Claire began to pace while considering the other strange occurrences surrounding their trip.
“And what about my clothes? I most certainly did not pack away that nightgown. It was a mere scrap of silk and lace. And that lingerie! Those panties and bras were not something I would have packed for a conference trip.”
“I’ll bet he enjoyed it,” Geillis muttered under her breath a sly grin curling up on her lips lighting up her face.
Jamie leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, staring intensely at the female doctor, “I am inclined tae agree with Dr. Beauchamp that the circumstances surrounding our trip tae Boston were, tae say the least, most unusual. I also had clothes in my suitcase that I ken I dinna pack and I’m wondering how they got there. Can ye shed any light on this mystery?”
As Jamie questioned Geillis, an acrid odor caught Claire’s attention. Being a very astute doctor, she was used to the various malodors emitted by humans and knew what they meant. She raised her nose into the air and sniffed delicately. The pungent smell seemed to be coming from the direction of Rupert. A light sheen of sweat glossed over his forehead and there was a distinctive musky odor about him. Fear. Anxiety. Her intense scrutiny seemed to worsen whatever internal conflict plaguing him. Unable to withstand the intensity of her stare, Rupert turned away not wanting to meet her eyes.
Claire jabbed Jamie in his side with her elbow gaining his attention.
“I think Rupert has something to add to this conversation.”
Jamie walked over to his cousin and stared at him intently. Rupert took a few steps back, feeling the unconscious need to put some distance between them.
“Aye, I think yer right. Rupert, ye look like ye have something ye’d like tae get off yer chest. Out with it man.”
Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Rupert widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I dinna ken what yer talking about Jamie lad. As the lady said, I dinna ken anything about yer trip either. And dinna ask if I ken anything about how yer jeans, duck boots, and down jacket got into yer suitcase,” he replied, a self-satisfied look plastered across his face.
“Ye great dunderheid! Do ye ken what ye said?! Ye just gave it away,” Geillis shouted giving him a slap upside his head. “And ye were worried about what I said.”
“Wha’ are ye talking ab…” He had that startled look that one has when they realize they stuck their foot in their mouth. “Oh! Oh, shite.”
“Ye just admitted that ye changed Jamie’s clothes in his suitcase.”
“Dinna blame me for everything. You changed Claire’s clothes,” Rupert countered.
The two combatants escalated the argument going at each other nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, tooth, fang, and claw.
“And whose ideas was this? Mine. Who made the hotel arrangements and spoke tae Joe Silverberg in Texas to get him on board with the plan should one of them call to discuss the meeting?” Geillis boasted as she swung her hair over her shoulder. A dreamy look took over her as she recalled the conversation with Dr. Silverberg. “I invited him to come to Scotland, ye ken. Told him I would show him the sights and a good time. Said he may take me up on that too.”
“Mmphm, so ye did,” Rupert grumbled with annoyance. He did not like the suggestion of Geillis showing the American surgeon a good time. “Ye forget I made the plane arrangements and got Kenny to print up the fake conference brochure. And who enlisted their secretary’s help to slip the vacation request under the Chief’s nose and have him sign it? Cost me a night out as payment for that,” Rupert griped.
The two doctors continued in their game of one-up-manship, oblivious to Jamie and Claire standing in the room.
Unable to take the bickering anymore, Jamie bellowed, “Haud yer weesht!!!”
Geillis and Rupert looked up in bewilderment having forgotten where they were and that Jamie and Claire stood listening.
“Do ye two realize that what ye did invaded our privacy? That ye had no right to interfere in our lives?” Jamie growled.
“So, that’s it then? The whole thing was a setup, some sort of game? None of this was real? ” Claire said as she looked at Jamie.
“I beg tae differ, hen,” Gellis walked over her expression softening and gently took hold of Claire’s hand, “it’s as real as it can get. We all saw the lovesick eyes, the secret peeks ye two gave each other, and the way ye fuss over each other. If two people were meant to be together it’s ye two. We just nudged things along is all, ” said Geillis.
“Aye, yer right,” Rupert chimed in. “‘Tis the truth that NO one could take watching ye two anymore. The whole hospital wanted tae see ye together.” Rupert smiled at Claire. He quickly turned his vexation on his cousin. “And if Fraser here was no’ going tae be a man about it and make the first move, well by God someone had tae,” he snarled at Jamie. “What are ye then, cuz, a man or a moose?”
Jamie ran his hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders as if trying to loosen his shirt that had suddenly become too tight. A shy crooked smile flashed over his face; his lip curling up on one side.
“Aye, yer right. I, ah, I… Well, tae tell the truth, I am a bit of a coward. Ye ken, I dinna think um, I dinna know if Claire felt the same about me.” Jamie turned and looked deeply in Claire’s eyes, “I was afraid tae lose ye. If being yer friend would be the best of it, then that would have been enough.”
“I was afraid of losing you too, Jamie. I’ve had feelings for you right from the start. Only now do I dare to admit them,” Claire turned toward Rupert and Geillis giving them a look of gratitude. Moving closer, placing her hands on his chest. “I love you and I always will.” Her arms went up around his neck, standing on tiptoe, she leaned in, and kissed him soundly.
The kiss finally ended, each blushing from making a display of themselves.
Geillis stood there making gagging noises as she watched their affection. Rupert looked at Geillis with a smirk on his face.
“What’s the matter, lass, jealous?” Rupert said with a grin on his face.
“Certainly not,” Geillis waved off that idea with a flip of her hand and turned away.
“Well then, ye won't be minding this. I've wanted tae do this for a long time.” Rupert turned her around, took her in his arms, and kissed her.
“And I dinna want tae hear about ye showing any other men a good time, either.” He gave her a look that told her he would not brook no for an answer.
Geillis, looking dazed readily agreed.
Jamie coughed loudly, reminding the other couple they were not alone.
Wrapping his arm around Claire and pulling her into his side, Jamie smiled at their friends, “We want to thank ye, both, for bringing us together. We are truly grateful.”
Claire nodded in agreement, forgetting about her anger with the unorthodox methods they used to bring her the love of her life.
“Since we are all telling the truth,” Rupert reluctantly admitted, “there’s a wee bit more to it.” “We were not the only ones involved in this. When other staff members heard what we about they wanted tae be part of it. And so...”
“And so everyone began to contribute money tae help pay for the trip. So that’s how ye had such fine accommodations and such.” Geillis huffed, “We told ye that people could no longer stand tae look at ye. They wanted ye two as a couple, no’ apart. Now can we stop havering about and get some lunch? My wame is empty. Besides, everyone is waiting in the canteen tae see ye both.”
“Oh, God,” Claire groaned as she grew red and buried her face in Jamie’s chest.
Jamie chuckled and rubbed her back in long soothing strokes.
“Are ye ready then, Sassenach? Let’s go give these good people their money’s worth,” he grinned.
“Yes. We should thank them all, don’t you think?” Claire replied, running her fingers through her hair trying to tame her wayward curls.
“Ye look fine, lass,” he bent to kiss her gently on the cheek and took hold of her hand.
Rupert and Geillis led the way, laughing and talking. Claire and Jamie walked behind them holding hands. Nerves were getting the best of her and her hands became sweaty. She surreptitiously wiped her free hand on the scrub pant leg.
“Dinna fash. Ye’ve faced worse and ye’ll no’ be doing this alone. We’ll face them as one.”
One.
ONE, he said. But. What did that exactly mean?
“What do you mean by that? Being one?” She held her breath waiting for an answer.
Jamie frowned, crease lines set upon his forehead.
“It’s like I’ve kent ye my whole life, even before that, if that’s possible. I mean yer part of me. I ken that sounds crazy, but I…”
“I know what you mean, Jamie. I feel the same way too. It’s hard to explain, but it’s there.”
“Aye, lass, it’s most definitely there.”
Approaching the canteen seemed a surreal experience. Normally, one would call the dining hall a lively place, with the sounds of laughter, chatter, mixed with the scrape of dinnerware against plates. Today seemed different. A thrum of excitement and perhaps expectation filled the air as if waiting for something to happen. As Jamie and Claire approached the door a steady vibration emanated from its core.
Geillis waved them back signaling she and Rupert would enter first. Rupert lifted his hand spreading his fingers indicating they should wait five minutes before entering. Jamie nodded and Rupert and Geillis entered the dining room.
Jamie and Claire waited in companionable silence. Who would think that five minutes could feel like an eternity? But it did.
Jamie looked at his watch; it was time.
“Are ye ready, Sassenach?”
“Je suis prest,” she acknowledged.
Their fingers reached out seeking their mate bonded the two hearts and souls into one. Turning they gave each other a nod and walked through the door only to meet with absolute silence.
All eyes turned upon them and it became unnerving. Claire inched closer to Jamie, if that was even possible, drawing on his strength.
Then the cheers began along with the whistles and applause. Someone from the back of the room called out, “It’s about time, Fraser.”
“Och why don’t ye just give us a bit of peace, aye?” came his laughing response.
They were rushed by a mob of well-wishers. Men clapped Jamie on the back wishing him well. Others made jokes, at his expense, about his manliness for taking so long.
The women embraced Claire telling her how happy they were for her. Some gave her sly looks while others made off-color jokes causing her to blush.
Eventually, people began to amble back to their tables and lunch, and the couple discovered themselves alone. Finding a table in an out-of-the-way corner, they sat to eat.
“I guess we are out as a couple officially. It’s no’ how I would have wished it tae become common knowledge, but…” Jamie shrugged. “They are good people and they meant well.”
Claire nodded in agreement as she moved her salad around on the plate not eating.
“It’s a strange feeling. Knowing that someone orchestrated this relationship. I know how this will sound, but I feel like this happened to me, to us before.”
Claire looked up at Jamie, eyes pleading for understanding.
“Forget what I said, it’s silly.” She stabbed a particularly tender piece of lettuce and ate it.
“Nay Sassenach, it’s no’ silly at all. I feel it too. It’s as if I am drawn to ye as if I kent ye from another lifetime. Like we were meant to be together, bonded if ye like.”
“That’s it, exactly.” Claire looked at him with a sense of relief. Looking up, she noticed the clock on the wall, reading 12:55 PM.
“Damn, we have to go. We’ll barely make it in time for Dr. de Gascogne’s appointment for your hand.”
Jamie muttered something in Gàidhlig which Claire really didn’t want a translation of.
“I dinna ken why everyone is making such a fuss over my hand. It doesna hurt and it will heal in a few more weeks.”
Claire blew out a breath of exasperation, “You know very well why Dr. Fraser. Your one of the best cardiac surgeons in all of Scotland. Well, next to me you are,” she said teasingly. Besides, the hospital needs you, your patients need you but most of all I need you. So that’s why.”
“I ken, but I dinna like being fussed over.”
“Yes, I know; you’re a doctor and doctors make terrible patients. You think you’re supposed to do the healing and don’t like when you need help,” Claire said with a raised eyebrow. “Now, let’s get your hand attended to, shall we?”
They hurried through the corridors, making it to the appointment with seconds to spare. Jamie was whisked off for X-Rays then he and Claire were escorted to an exam room. He sat on the examination bed while Claire took the chair next to him awaiting Dr. de Gascogne’s appearance.
Jamie studiously inspected an anatomical chart of the hand and wrist hanging on the wall in the room.
“Ye said ye need me,” he said almost inaudibly. “Do ye mean as yer surgical partner or as something more?
Claire noticed him drumming his fingers on his thigh anxiously.
“I need you, Jamie, in every sense of the word. As my partner, my friend, my lover, my everything. I. Need. You.” Claire stood and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck pressing her forehead to his.
“Aye, weel I wanted to make sure, is all. Yer the prettiest lass in the hospital. Any man would want tae be with ye,” and gave her a shy smile.
“Jamie Fraser, you say the most…” There was a knock on the door, the knob turned and Dr. de Gascogne entered the room finding the lovers locked in an embrace.
She looked at the two, raised an eyebrow at Jamie’s hands on Claire’s hips, “Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez. I believe congratulations are in order. My secretary tells me you have announced that you are a couple. You two made quite a stir in the dining hall?”
Claire jumped away returning to her seat cheeks and nose bright red. While Jamie’s ears went pink.
“Well, um, ah, yes. Thank you. I believe that we made quite a spectacle of ourselves and continue to do so, it seems,” Claire replied mortified having been caught.
“Ah, mon chéri never be ashamed to show that you are in love. We are born of love and seek out love. Many have sacrificed greatly for love even died for it. It truly is a treasure to enjoy. No?” Dr. de Gascogne said with a smile. “Now to business.”
Dr. de Gascogne opened the electronic medical record and began her inquiry. Jamie explained how he injured his hand - twice - causing Dr. de Gascogne to raise her eyebrows in total disbelief.
She reviewed the X-Rays; then removed the splints. She moved and wiggled the fingers finding them healing well and moving to her satisfaction. The splints were replaced and Jamie was dismissed with a caution not to hit any more people or trees. She instructed him to see her again in one month for a further follow-up.
The two surgeons graciously thanked Dr. de Gascogne for her time and casually left the examination room. As soon as they could not be seen, they bolted toward the operating suites as quickly as they could eager to leave behind another awkward situation.
The remainder of the afternoon went on as planned. Claire completed her second surgical procedure without incident. Jamie’s students doggedly followed him from place to place. Finally, the day came to an end. The surgeons tiredly returned to their offices, checked in for urgent messages and for their schedule for the next day. Each too exhausted to do much of anything else, except want the comfort of a bed, chose to go home. It was a short walk to Claire’s flat from the hospital and Jamie escorted her home. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned into him. They spoke of this and that sharing different events of their day. Arriving at Claire’s flat, they walked up the stairs toward the front door. Jamie stood one step lower than Claire allowing them to be of an equal height.
A wave of fatigue washed over her, but Claire did not want Jamie to leave despite her tiredness.
“Would you like to come up? I have some soup in the fridge. Mrs. Bug made it. She’s quite the cook. Won’t take more than a moment to heat up. Or maybe a glass of wine or a dram? To help unwind?” she said looking at him hopefully.
He unzipped both their jackets and pulled her into the depth of his wrapping the jacket around her. He wanted her close to him and to share his warmth with her.
“Mo chridhe, yer completely knackered and ye need yer rest. If I come up with ye, ye ken neither of us will get any sleep,” he said pressing himself against her his desire completely apparent. “It’s no’ that I dinna want tae, but it wouldna do tae have ye fall asleep tomorrow during yer procedures.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked with little sleep, just like you have, during residency and fellowship,” she pouted.
“Aye, but ye need to set an example for the students and fellows. And what about yer patients? They need Dr. Beauchamp at her best. They’re counting on ye.”
Claire luxuriated in the radiant heat of his body and the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But, she still did not want him to leave. For to be alone with Jamie was bliss but to be alone was, well, to be alone. She racked her fatigued brain for anything that would keep Jamie with her. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I love you.”
“I ken ye do, mo nighean donn. I feel it every time ye touch me,” Jamie took her hand tenderly placing a kiss on her palm. Gently, he folded her fingers over to seal his kiss against her skin. “And when ye kiss me,” he brushed his lips over hers. “Most of all, when ye lie with me. I ken the truth of it in our lovemaking,” he pulled her even closer to him until no space existed between their bodies. “Woman, ye’re like a live wire. Yer body fairly pulses with yer love and it flows out from you into me. It’s no’ just lust between us. ‘Tis love that brought us together and binds our souls. ‘Tis a thing that I never knew I wanted or needed until I found ye,” his hand moved to cup her face.
“It’s the same for me. I never knew it could be like this. Especially, after Frank. I thought all relationships would end up like that one. I see how foolish I had been to keep myself closed. To close my heart from love. If not for this trip, this may have never happened. We may have never happened.”
“Mo leannan, I would have found ye somehow. Whether I found ye now or even if I had to wait two hundred years to find ye, I’d find ye. We are meant to be together. I ken it.” His forehead pressed to hers each inhaling the other’s breath.
It began to rain lightly; a mizzle he had once called it. Tiny droplets of water clung to his hair. In the light of the streetlamp, his hair looked like a ruby adorned with sparkling diamonds.
They stood locked in an embrace for several moments; neither truly wanting to part from the other.
“Sassenach,” he whispered into her ear, “go on up. Ye need yer rest. Yer poor wee eyes are closing and there are dark smudges around them. Go on then. I’ll see ye tomorrow.”
He kissed her on the forehead and she nodded her head in agreement. Claire walked up the last two steps and slid the key into the lock of the front door. She turned to watch Jamie as he disappeared into the night walking toward his home and it occurred to her that this was just the beginning of their life and of their story.
The End - Part I
Tha gaol agam ort: I love you. (As if you didn’t know already.)
Anastomosis: An anastomosis is a surgical connection between two structures. It usually means a connection that is created between tubular structures, such as blood vessels or loops of the intestine.
CSICU/Unit: Cardiac Surgical ICU.
Blatherer: Chatterbox.
Dunderheid: An idiot, a stupid person.
Haud yer weesht: Be quiet.
Moose: mouse
Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez.: One day someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else, my dears. And it seems that you have. (Google translation. If it’s wrong I apologise.) The quote is attributed to anonymous.
Mo nighean donn: My brown-haired lass
Mo leannan: Darling
Mizzle: A light rain
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This Jamie and Claire will return. When I don't know. I also have several other stories in various stages of completion sitting in my files. I would like to give them a little attention too. And I still need to get through all the other stuff going on in my life.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading. 🧡🧡🧡🧡
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago
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I’m Always Curious Part Thirty Two
Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕
Warnings: Cursing, a lil fluff, a lil angst. Y’all know me. Summary: That was one thing that I had learned during the course of the war: saying goodbye never got any easier. 
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Reaching for my Communicator was almost automatic as its beeping roused me from my sleep. I tugged it out of my pocket and groused, “What?”
“...Were you sleeping?” Eli asked, sounding stunned. “I’m as shocked as you are,” I mumbled, tipping my head back against Christopher’s shoulder, “What’s going on?” “Report’s filed—” “Great.” “You’re beaming down with me at Starbase 338. Command needs to speak with us.” I felt Christopher’s arm tighten around me as I realized, “The second eject.” “Yeah.” “How long until we drop out of warp?” “Three hours.” “Alright. Thanks, Eli.” “Sure, kid.”  I closed my communicator and dropped it onto the cushion beside me before I wrapped my arm back around Chris’ middle. “...How long was I out?” I asked after a few moments. “Couple’a hours,” Was his soft answer. “Are you needed on the bridge?” “Saru has the conn.” “Was that a yes or a no?” “Things are in hand.” I took my time coming to properly, adjusting from my rude awakening. At some point in my slumber, Chris had undone his collar. I could see the freckle on his neck over the fold over the fabric, just as I remembered it. Maybe that was a silly thing to notice; it wasn’t the sort of thing that would change. I fought the urge to skim my fingertips along it, just lowered my eyes back to the fabric of his jacket. “Did you get any rest?” I asked. “Some,” Christopher admitted, brushing his lips against my forehead. I felt my eyes close at the contact, sighing softly. “Good,” I mumbled. “What was that about Command?” “They’ll wanna talk about the Tag and Run. The authorization was an emergency one, anyway— so was the manual eject.” “You were cleared for it.” “I was cleared for one,” I clarified, “Every eject needs its own clearance— wartime holdover.” 
“It was an emergency,” Chris argued; I was sure if I lifted my head now, I’d find a frown and a furrowed brow, “Were you supposed to stay in the ship with the damaged warp nacelle and the punctured cabin?” “Are you worrying?” I asked, unable to help the amusement that wove into my tone as I finally peered up at him, “It’s just standard procedure, Chris, nothin’ outta the ordinary. I’m used to these.” Chris was quiet for a moment before he lifted his hand from my shoulder, sweeping his fingers back to neaten my misplaced hair. “Well,” He muttered, “I’m not used to your being used to them.” “So you are worrying.” “That is not the word I’d use.” “What is the word you’d use?” “... Not that one.” 
I rolled my eyes a little bit, setting my head back down against his shoulder. “And Eli calls me particular,” I teased. The two of us settled back into quiet for a few minutes. Chris’ hand drifted over my back in soft, slow movements. “I just got you back,” He finally murmured. I cuddled closer, turning my face into his neck as he added, “Now I’ve gotta let you out of my sight again like everything’s fine?” “You say that as if you’re not the one tasked with a dangerous mission from Command.” “Don’t worry about me.”
“You’re kidding, right?” “Don’t start—” Chris stopped himself, but I felt the stalled term of endearment all the same. My gut churned with it. Though we’d come to a better place of understanding, I wasn’t this man’s sweetheart anymore. I just patted Chris’ side reassuringly, freeing him of what he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say. “Come on,” I mumbled, carefully disentangling myself from his arms, “I need a new coffee. I’m sure that one’s cold.” 
-- “Well?” I asked lightly. “Pressure is fine, and your heart rate has returned to normal,” Pollard reported, setting her tricorder aside and folding her arms, “But I’d watch that caffeine intake.” I shot looks between Pike and Eli, brow raised. “Alright, who do I have to thank for that?” Both men shook their heads, glancing at one another, and I scoffed out a laugh. “You know what, that’s incredible,” I said, straightening up. “What is?” Eli asked. “I don’t believe either one of you.” 
--
It was just as hard to part with Jett and Tilly this time. That was one thing that I had learned during the course of the war: saying goodbye never got any easier. “Where to next for you all, then?” Eli asked as we made our way to the transporter bay. “Time and signals will tell,” Christopher answered, “I trust you and the Commander will have the briefings with Command in hand? I’d be happy to assist, if needed.” “I appreciate that,” Eli nodded, smiling a little bit and glancing back at me, “Pretty sure we both do, but I would not presume to speak for the Commander—” “Nor would you dare,” I tacked on, “Because it would not end well for you.” “Precisely,” Eli chuckled. He shot me a quick wink before stepping away from the two of us. Pike and I stopped at the door of the transporter bay. The uneasy feeling that had buzzed through me, that had settled so deeply in my gut after I’d first seen Chris on the Discovery, was back. “Well,” Chris spoke up first. “Well,” I echoed, eyes set on the floor. Well— Well, I was suddenly quite sure I was going to be sick. My palms were sweating, and I’d give anything to be curled back into the man’s side and on that loveseat again. I already found myself grappling for the memory of the feeling. I took in a deep breath and pushed it back as I said, “Be careful.” “I will if you will.” 
I looked up at Chris and found a small, teasing smile on his lips. I couldn’t help mirror it. 
“You know, this is uncanny,” I shook my head.
“What’s that?”
“It’s the second time in as many hours that I’ve wanted to call bullshit on something you’ve told me.”
Chris chuckled softly, and I felt the knot that my stomach had twisted itself into begin to untangle a little. I glanced over at Eli, who nodded toward the transporter pads. I gave him a small nod in turn.
“Let me know where you wind up,” Chris implored as I stepped deeper into the transporter bay.
“I will,” I agreed, walking up the steps to the transporter. Eli and I stood side by side, and Chris tucked his hands behind his back.
“It’s been a pleasure, Pike,” Eli smiled.
“It’s been an experience, Durling,” Chris retorted, and Eli laughed. I grinned, shaking my head a little.
“Energizing,” I heard the transporter engineer speak up. Chris’ eyes shifted to me again as the transporter beam began to energize. And maybe he thought that I couldn’t see him anymore, or maybe he just couldn’t manage it any longer, but I saw his smile falter. I felt mine fell away, too, and I lowered my eyes. The knot in my stomach took form again as he disappeared from sight. Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner  ; @tardis-23  ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel ; @blueeyesatnight ; @hotchswifey​
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chocolatequeennk · 4 years ago
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Wired to Love You
In which the Doctor gets a caffeine high and gives away more than he intended.
Ten x Rose
For @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas. This is Day 2: Ginger.
AO3 | FF.NET
The Doctor didn’t spin around the console with his usual manic energy as he set the coordinates for their next trip. He wanted to be sure of the landing this time—Rose deserved a fun trip. They’d spent a week in London, letting the TARDIS recover from her side trip to the parallel universe, and Rose recover from losing Mickey.
Mickey Smith, defender of the Earth, he mused. Not such an idiot after all.
He’d been through this before—had one companion stay after losing a friend. It was never easy, and he wanted to give Rose something that would make her smile.
He twisted the last knob, then gave her a wide smile. “Are you ready for this, Rose Tyler?” he asked dramatically as he grabbed the dematerialisation lever.
Rose rolled her eyes, but he knew he saw a hint of a smile playing with the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, all right. Impress me, Time Lord.”
The Doctor threw the lever then put his hand on his chest in mock indignation. “Rose Tyler, it almost sounds as if you don’t think I’m impressive.”
She laughed, the musical sound echoing in the console room. “You are the same man, but so different. ‘I am impressive!’ he insisted. Three words. And here you are, spouting off a sonnet practically.”
The Doctor sniffed. “It’s not my fault this particular incarnation is a trifle more loquacious than I was in my last body.”
“Loquacious?” she asked, giggles rippling through her body.
The Doctor warmed to his subject. He was making Rose laugh, which was all he wanted out of the day. “I am a wordsmith, Rose Tyler. The wordiest of smithy wordsmiths.”
Rose mouthed the words, and he grinned at her. The TARDIS landed, and he spun around and offered her his hand. “Come on! I think we’re ready for a party.”
He tilted his head and studied her attire. “But I think you’ll need a warm coat or something,” he said, realising she was dressed for a much warmer climate.
The ship hummed around them, and the Doctor and Rose both looked at the coat rack by the door. To neither of their surprise, a Rose-sized coat was hanging there.
“The TARDIS is looking out for me,” Rose said as she jogged up the ramp.
The ship hummed again, the sensation feeling like a warm blanket. The Doctor patted a strut; he had no doubt the ship had taken him exactly where he had asked for once. They both knew Rose needed a smile.
Her giggles caught his attention. “What is this?” she asked, holding up a scarf.
A familiar scarf. A very familiar, very long, very colourful scarf.
The Doctor groaned. “That… That should have been buried in an archived version of the wardrobe room. Why’d you bring that out?”
The ship whistled, even though the question was rhetorical. It had made Rose laugh. That was exactly why she’d brought it out.
He shook his head and watched as Rose draped it around her neck three times. The purple stripes matched her coat almost perfectly.
Rose grinned at the Doctor. She hadn’t been quite sure she was ready to travel again, but the warm laughter had eliminated most of her lingering sorrow.
She held her hand out to him. “Come on,” she said. “I hear there’s something impressive outside these doors.”
The Doctor’s answering grin eased what was left of her lingering melancholy. He bounded up the ramp and pulled the door open, gesturing for her to go outside first.
Rose took a step towards the door, then tilted her head. She heard something familiar… She sniffed. And smelled something familiar.
Excitement beat in her heart and she darted past him, out onto the snow-covered street. “Oh, brilliant,” she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
They’d parked on one side of a wide square. A Christmas tree dominated the space, with garland spanning out from the tree to the buildings lining the square.
“Where are we?”
The Doctor took her hand and they started walking towards the centre of the square. “This is Parolin in the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
“You mean we finally made it?” Rose cast him a sideways grin. “Not to some satellite or something where we’ll have to figure out who’s trying to end humanity as we know it?”
The Doctor huffed, and she giggled in delight. He hip checked her, and she burst into full on laughter.
“If you’re finished,” he said after a moment, “I could tell you the rest. Or you could continue to tease me.”
Rose tapped her chin with her finger. “Hmmm… tough choice.”
The Doctor pouted, and before he could work himself up, Rose slid closer to him and hugged his hand to her. “Nah, you know I’m teasing. Tell me more. The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire…”
He nodded. “Human festivals have almost been forgotten.”
“Doesn’t sound very great to me,” Rose muttered.
“Except for once a century, when the nostalgists are able to have their day—or days.”
“You mean, they go 99 years without celebrating anything, and then once every one hundred years, the whole empire celebrates every human holiday… ever?”
“Yep!”
Rose shook her head. “Barmy,” she muttered.
Then she realised what he was saying. “So, this is literally the Christmas festival of a century.”
He made the little happy giggling sound in the back of his throat that she loved so much. “Exactly!”
Rose sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t stupid; she knew why the Doctor had brought her here. But the fact that he knew exactly what would put a smile on her face didn’t make it any less meaningful. In fact…
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He smiled down at her, all the giddiness gone, leaving only warmth in its place. “Anything for you, Rose Tyler.”
Then he tightened his hold on her hand and tugged her through the crowds. “Come on, Rose! The party awaits!”
Rose laughed helplessly and let him pull her along with him. They moved from table to table, enjoying the chocolates and biscuits and eggnog and hot buttered rum.
At one point, they joined an impromptu group of carollers and roamed the surrounding streets, singing at the top of their lungs.
When they were done, the song leader handed everyone a slice of gingerbread. “Brilliant work, everyone. I’d say we’ll do it again next year, but well…” The crowd all laughed at the joke that must be old now, at the end of the year of festivals.
The Doctor hesitated just a moment before he devoured the gingerbread. He was hungry, and as long as he didn’t have alcohol, he should be fine. Ginger on its own didn’t get a Time Lord drunk—it just lowered their ability to metabolise the alcohol, letting it actually reach their system and intoxicate them.
“Where to next?” he asked Rose, once they’d finished the dessert.
“Can we go into a shop?” Rose asked. “I’m getting cold.”
The Doctor nodded. “The main indoor shopping area is this way,” he said, leading her to the booths lining the streets.
A stand along the way caught his eye, and he slowed down and snagged two cups of coffee. “This should help you warm up, too,” he said, offering one to her.
She wrapped both her hands around the paper cup and held it up to her nose. “Mmm, perfect,” she murmured.
The Doctor sipped at his coffee, trying to ignore the way his hearts were racing. That was par for the course when he was with Rose Tyler. He needed to learn to just… get used to it. Somehow. Even though no one had ever made him feel like this and…
He shook his head quickly to stop that thought in its tracks.
Rose looked up at him oddly, and he just grinned and bounced on his toes. “Come on, Rose Tyler!” he said, sounding a little too… energetic even to his ears. “Shopping awaits.”
The longer they were inside, the more antsy the Doctor felt. He always felt a little… bouncy in this body. Like he had slightly too much energy for the amount of limbs he possessed. But right now he felt like he was literally vibrating out of his skin.
And Rose was starting to notice. After the third time he went on a ten minute ramble about the shopping centre, the town origins, and the exact placement of the planet in the galaxy, she stopped and looked at him, her hands planted on her hips.
“All right, what’s going on with you?” she said. The words were stern, but the voice was concerned and he just loved it when Rose cared about him. Rose cared about everyone but it mattered the most when she cared about him.
He blinked and held his breath, hoping he hadn’t actually said that out loud. He wouldn’t normally, but today wasn’t normal and why wasn’t it normal? Rose had asked and he was going to tell her but first he had to figure out why himself. He couldn’t really tell her something he didn’t know the answer to.
(Contrary to her opinions, he did not actually just make up stories about the planets and people they visited. If he told her something, it was because he knew it—or at least, he believed he did. Sometimes he was wrong, and he was Time Lord enough to admit that.)
The Doctor stopped and put his fingers to his temples. His normally rapid thought process was out of control. What was he supposed to be doing? Oh right, figuring out why he was like this.
He took a deep breath, holding it for ten seconds, then letting it out slowly. That centred him just enough to focus on his body. Clearly, something was affecting…
The Doctor groaned and buried his hands in his face.
Rose blinked in concern when the Doctor groaned and buried his hands in his face. “Doctor?” she asked, feeling more worried by the minute. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong?” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He sighed and straightened up. “No, nothing is wrong, unless by wrong you mean embarrassing and too revealing, in which case yes something is wrong and you are about to learn more about Time Lord physiology than I had intended for today.”
Rose sucked in a breath and hoped she wasn’t blushing. She was almost certain that wasn’t what he’d meant—if he meant that kind of physiology lesson, he surely wouldn’t be talking about it in public.
“I never should have eaten that gingerbread. But it smelled delicious and I was hungry and I knew I wasn’t going to drink any alcohol, so I thought, ‘What’s the harm?’ How was I supposed to know that ginger would make caffeine affect me, just like alcohol.”
Rose blinked, trying to keep up with that rapid-fire speech. “What’s ginger got to do with anything?”
“Oh, everything. Well, not everything, just everything that is related to this particular conversation, in which case I suppose I really could just say everything because we were talking about this conversation, weren’t we?”
Rose blinked at him, and the Doctor groaned again. “It’s getting worse.”
“What is?”
She watched him take another deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Ginger,” he said, enunciating the two syllables in a way she knew meant he was trying to control his rambling again. “Time Lords are able to metabolise substances faster. It’s why I don’t get drunk. But ginger impairs our ability to metabolise the alcohol.”
Rose frowned; what did that have to do with anything? Like he’d said, they hadn’t had any alcohol.
Then she remembered the coffee, and it clicked. “Caffeine,” she said. “You can’t metabolise the caffeine, and now you’re completely wired.”
He pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. Rose could see how hard it was for him to stay silent, and she could only imagine what their life would be like if the Doctor talked more than he already did.
“All right,” she said slowly. “Do you want to go back to the TARDIS?”
His shoulders slumped. “No, I don’t want to ruin this for you. This trip is supposed to be for you, to make you smile. You should always smile, Rose—your smile is so pretty.”
This time, Rose knew she was blushing. “Well, thanks,” she stammered. “But we can always come back to the party later, yeah? Like, we can go back to the TARDIS for a bit, or even overnight, without leaving the planet?”
The Doctor blinked so rapidly Rose swore she could feel a breeze from his eyelashes.
“I guess we don’t,” he said. “Do you know, I’ve never really though about that before. It’s always one day, one city. Unless we’re arrested or made guests of the king or something. Then we stay longer. But usually, I just do what I came to do and then leave. I never thought about just… staying.”
Rose took his hand and led him out of the shop, hoping he couldn’t see her rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you’re playing domestics,” she muttered. “I’m not saying we could set up house here. I’m just saying we could rest for a bit before coming back to the party.”
“Oh, I completely agree!” he said breezily. “I wasn’t arguing, I was just saying it wasn’t something I’d ever considered. Do you know, after over a thousand years in the TARDIS, I really thought I was done being surprised. Not by other planets, of course, because I’m always surprised. Day I know everything, that’s the day I quit travelling. But I’m not very often given just… a different way to live. It’s a paradigm shift! That’s you, Rose Tyler, a paradigm shifter.”
Rose breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw the TARDIS. She loved listening to the Doctor ramble, she really did, but his constant talking was hard to keep up with, especially as he jumped from topic to topic without warning or explanation.
“Here we are,” she said, pulling out her key. “Home again home again.”
She unlocked the door and turned around to look at the Doctor. To her surprise, he swept her up in a hug.
“What’s this for?” she asked, her words muffled by his coat.
“You called the TARDIS home,” he said. “I was worried… Well, it doesn’t matter. But you called the TARDIS home and now I know that I don’t need to worry.”
Rose was pretty sure she knew what he’d been worrying about, and he definitely did not need to worry.
“Yeah, she’s my home… as long as that’s okay?”
The Doctor pushed open the door and let Rose enter the ship first. “Of course it’s okay!” he replied, sounding almost indignant. “If it wasn’t okay, I’d say it wasn’t, would’t I? And I wouldn’t give you a key. Bit stupid of me to give someone a key if I didn’t want to them to feel at home.”
Rose shook her head. “Yeah, all right. Listen, Doctor. I’m going to go take a bath and go to bed. I’ll be up at eight for breakfast, and then we can explore the second half of the market.”
“Molto bene!” The Doctor bounced on his toes, then danced around the console. He just could not contain the excess energy that was building up in his body. Was this what humans felt like when they had caffeine? If it was, then why did they ever do it?
“Or maybe this is just special because of the ginger. Just like I’ll get totally sloshed on a single glass of wine if I’ve had ginger.”
The Doctor spun around to talk to Rose, and he blinked a few times when he realised she wasn’t there. But then he remembered that she’d told him she was leaving the room.
He pouted. Well, how was he going to stay busy if his busy partner had left him all on his own?
Without any real thought, he dug around under the console and started building with the pieces he found there. It was good to have something to do with his hands, but that project only took ten minutes.
Next, he walked a lap of the TARDIS. Or at least as much as could be ran in a lap. Several of the corridors weren’t really connected to the rest, unless either he or the TARDIS felt like they needed to be.
He blinked when he spotted a familiar door. It wasn’t really a surprise that he’d gotten himself to Rose’s room, he figured. After all, he would much rather be with her than alone, although he thought maybe she’d been getting a little tired of his rambling and he really didn’t want to annoy her.
He caught his lower lip between his teeth and thought for all of 30 seconds before he knocked at the door. “Rose? It’s me. Well, who else would it be? We are the only two people on the TARDIS after all.”
He snapped his mouth shut with a click. He wasn’t going to annoy Rose.
“Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m trying not to ramble. If I don’t ramble, can I come in?”
Rose bit her lip. She was really pretty comfy in her jim jams, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear all about the Mongol invasion or who Merlin really was or anything else the Doctor happened to latch onto.
But on the other hand, she didn’t want to turn him away, either. It was really so sweet that he wanted to be with her while he felt a little out of sorts.
“Yeah, gimme a mo,” she called back. The cami top was enough, but she grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms and pulled them on over her knickers. “Okay, come on in, Doctor.”
The door swung open, and the Doctor hesitated on the other side for a moment, his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I might talk your ear off.”
Rose tugged on her ears. “Nah, they’re attached.”
The Doctor giggled and bounded into the room. He flopped down on the big armchair Rose kept by her vanity. “Your room is nicer than mine,” he said, scanning the room quickly.
“Maybe because she knows I’ll actually use my room, unlike you.” Rose giggled when the ship whistled her agreement. “See? What’s the point in spending her energy giving you a nice room if you’re never in it?”
The Doctor hummed noncommittally. Rose had a suspicion that he’d just managed to hold something back just then, but she couldn’t fathom what it might have been. Still, if he wasn’t just blurting out every thought that came to mind, that was at least some improvement.
“I suppose,” the Doctor said, and it took Rose a moment to remember they were talking about their respective bedrooms.
He bit his lip again, and Rose turned to face him fully. “What is it?” she asked.
“Well… I don’t know how long this is going to last and I’m trying to not say every single thought in my head because despite what you might think, I do actually appreciate my privacy.
“But I’m just sitting here and I can’t stop thinking… did you always have that cute mole on your shoulder, Rose Tyler?”
Rose blinked several times and felt her face turn hot. There was something about the matter of fact way he said it made it feel like he’d made a far more intimate discovery than the small mole on her left shoulder.
“So tell me more about Parolin,” she requested. “You said Fourth Great and Bountiful, yeah?”
The Doctor nodded absently. “Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
He was still staring at her. “How did I not know you have a perfect little mole on your left shoulder?” he said, almost petulantly. “I have catalogued every aspect of your appearance and personality, and yet here is this mole that has taken me completely by surprise. What other surprises do you have for me? Do I want to know, or should I just be… I don’t know, surprised.”
Rose blinked at him. “What all do you know about me?” she asked, thinking to call him on his bluff.
The Doctor leaned forward, his eyes lit up. “Rose Tyler Facts,” he said dramatically. “Tea: hot with milk and a little sugar. Chocolate: the darker the better. Movies: eclectic tastes. Rom com, and historical fiction, and especially in places where they blend.”
Rose felt her face grow warm as he continued rattling off everything from her favourite colour to the classmate in primary school who had pissed her off by ratting the whole class out to the teacher.
“How do you know even know so much about me?” she asked, when there was finally a moment of silence.
The Doctor blinked at her owlishly. She knew what had happened; she’d interrupted his train of thought and he was going to have to find a new one, or a boat or a car or something.
“Well, I love you. Why wouldn’t I know all of those things?”
In the silence that settled in the room, some of the Doctor’s caffeine daze lifted. He reviewed the last five minutes, and felt his face turn hot.
Rose was staring at him, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. The Doctor’s hearts stopped. He hadn’t really ever planned to tell her that, but in the times he’d let himself imagine it, he’d always thought she would… well, feel the same way.
Wasn’t that what she’d been trying to say outside the cafe? That she thought their relationship was something more than just friendship?
Apparently not, he thought glumly.
“And I think I’ve outstayed my welcome,” he mumbled. He got up and walked to the door, anxious to be alone with his embarrassment.
To his surprise, Rose reached the door before he did, sliding in just before he could grab the door knob.
“Rose?”
She poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare leave this room,” she ordered. “You can’t say something like that, and then just… just… walk away!”
The Doctor looked down at her, trying to understand what she was saying. “Well… I hadn’t really meant to say that,” he said hesitantly.
Rose’s face fell. “Oh. You didn’t mean it, then?”
The Doctor paused, trying to think through the lingering caffeine fog. Something important was happening here, and if he could just focus instead of letting his brain go in forty-five directions at once, he might be able to figure out what it was.
“Doctor.” Rose’s voice gave him a point of focus. “Did you mean it?”
And finally, the important thing clicked. The only reason she would be so set on knowing if he meant it was if she wanted him to mean it.
The hearts that had stopped only a few moments ago were racing now. “Yes.”
He held his breath, watching her intently. When a smile spread across her face, the breath whooshed out of him.
Rose rolled her eyes as she stepped closer to him. “Were you really that nervous?” she asked.
“Wellllll…” The Doctor cautiously rested his hands on her waist, waiting for her to tell him that wasn’t what she wanted. “You haven’t really said much, except to demand an answer from me.”
She blinked up at him, and he had to hold back his delight that she’d gotten that wrapped up in the conversation.
“I mean… I might ask you how you feel,” he said casually.
“Oh! Oh my god, I can’t believe…”
Rose closed her eyes and shook her head, and when she opened her eyes, the warmth in them spread all through the Doctor.
“I love you, too,” she told him quietly.
The Doctor giggled then—he couldn’t help it. Rose shook her head and stepped closer to him, sliding her hands over his shoulders. “Is that funny?” she asked.
“Nope.” He bent closer and bumped his nose against hers, getting her to giggle this time. “Not funny, just happy.”
Rose tilted her head, and for a long moment, they hovered there, almost kissing but not quite. The intimacy of their breath mixing made the Doctor’s hearts race.
Air from my lungs, he thought, remembering a long-ago adventure.
And then Rose’s lips were on his, and he decided this was the only adventure he wanted to think about.
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scribbling-stiks · 4 years ago
Text
OS - Date Interruptions and Meetings
'Thoughts' / "Speech"
Russia wasn't quite sure what to expect on the second date, but America seemed to have planned it all out. They are seated across from each other in a fancy French restaurant, and both were dressed to the nines. Russia had a hard time keeping his eyes off his partner.
"Ya know, it's not every day that I see you with your hair styled," America comments.
"And what about it?" Russia questions, nervous.
"I don't know. I think I like it," America replies with a grin. Russia smiles proudly, and his cheeks turn light pink.
America's smile falls briefly, but it returns before Russia can question its absence, and their flirting continues until it's interrupted by the shrill noise of America's phone.
"I'm sorry, Russ, I gotta take this," America apologizes before answering the phone with a quick, "Hey, what's up?"
Russia listens to America curiously, trying to discern what the phone call was about. America had no problem ignoring France's phone calls earlier that evening, so Russia wonders why this was more important.
"What's going on?... Slow down. I can't understand what you're- ... okay..."
Russia sees America's face fall, and his eyebrows furrow. He can't make out what's being said on the phone, but it worries America. America stands up
"That's a lot worse than I thought it was... yeah, I'm okay... no... yeah, I'll leave now. I'll be there in a few hours. Can you wait that long?... Okay, I'll see you then. Bye," America says, hanging up the phone, and he moves to grab his jacket, and Russia spots something on the dress shirt he's wearing.
"Wait," Russia calls, and America pauses, "are you okay?"
"What are you talking about?" America asks, perplexed.
"You're bleeding," Russia remarks, standing up.
"Oh... listen, I'm fine," America says, trying to wave off Russia's concern and cover the dark red stain on his side.
"Let me at least check first," Russia insists.
"Fine, but be fast," America relents.
They walk back to the bathroom and, thankfully, found it to be empty. America pulls up his shirt to expose the wound. Russia looks at it carefully. It doesn't look like a scratch or puncture wound. It looks like a fresh gash that, had it happened normally, it would've damaged the cloth covering it.
"What happened?" he asks.
"Domestic problems. Can we hurry this up? Please?" America replies impatiently.
"Let me wrap it up, and then you can go," Russia insists.
America sighs but doesn't fight against it. Russia retrieves a roll of gauze and bandages normally saved to cover his arms, and he begins expertly wrapping America's injury. Russia forces himself to focus on dressing the wound and tries not to look elsewhere, despite the urge to explore. Being this close to America is distracting in and of itself, but he knew that he had to finish.
As soon as he backs up, America drops his shirt and throws on his jacket to cover the bloodstain.
"Thank you. Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to go," America says, exiting the bathroom with Russia on his heels.
"Okay. Go, it seems important. Will you be back for tomorrow's meeting?" Russia replies.
"Yes, but I might be late," America sighs, "but it's the best I can do right now. Bye, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodbye. Good luck," Russia says, waving. He does feel disappointed that their evening had been cut short, but wasn't going to force America to stay. He sits back down at the table alone and wonders if the injury and the phone call were somehow related.
He returns to his hotel room later that night, trying to keep his worry at bay. 'America can handle himself,' he thinks, reassuring himself as best he can.
When he goes to the meeting the next day, he doesn't see America. Just before the meeting begins, Russia informs UN that America is currently dealing with a domestic issue. UN nods and the frustrated expression he had worn fades into one of understanding.
UK looks pleased that America had not yet arrived, but Canada looks worried. Russia returns to his seat and finds himself watching the door more than listening to the meeting.
About two hours after the meeting started, America arrives, exhausted. He falls into the empty seat next to Russia with a mumbled "hi."
Russia nods in acknowledgment.
"Finally, the brat arrives!" UK mumbles sarcastically. Russia narrows his eyes, and America ignores the comment.
"He was dealing with a domestic issue. His tardiness has been excused," UN announces, looking at UK in particular.
UK rolls his eyes and glares at America. America slumps in his chair and sighs. Russia was positive that had it not been for the sunglasses; he would see large bags marred under America's eyes from another sleepless night.
"Are you okay?" Russia whispers.
America looks up before smiling softly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired, you know? Didn't get any sleep last night and forgot to grab coffee on the way here," he replies quietly, shaking his head, "'sides, I don't think I'll be able to go and get any with UK here."
"I could get it for you," Russia offers, and America stares at him like he's some superhero.
"Really?" America asks, his tone hopeful. Russia nods.
"Do you care about what's in it?" Russia asks.
"Not really. I like cream and sugar, but at this point, as long as it's caffeinated, it's fine," America answers.
Russia nods and stands. UK looks up at him, suspicious of the exchange he had seen. Russia gives him a glare in return before leaving the room. He returns shortly after with a disposable cup and sits back down, handing it to America.
America takes it as if it's full of gold. Russia smiles, but his smile falls when he turns back and sees UK scowling at him.
'It was going to be a long day,' he decides.
~ Table of Contents
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marlinspirkhall · 5 years ago
Text
I Know What Your (Sci fi) Fandom Is By The Constructed Language You Speak
(and psychoanalyse you in the process)
Esperanto: You’re either a Red Dwarf fan, very enthusiastic about keeping out the Nazis, or both (and, really, what could get more Red Dwarf than that?). You get the romance languages confused on a regular basis and cry about it, but at least you know how to call the hall porter, because there’s a frog in your bidet. Unfortunately, no-one in this hotel speaks Esperanto. You’re a cat person, and you’ve got a keen sense of style and sophistication.
Gallifreyan: You’re a Doctor Who fan, and you don’t care who knows it. You grew up on Doctor Who content and you either lived through The Hiatus, or you’ve trawled through enough parts of the internet to feel like you’ve experienced it firsthand. You have a very loose definition of “canon” and get confused by fanon wars, because consistency? You’ve never heard of her. You would never be caught saying “I was born in the wrong generation,” but you’ve thought it, at least once. Your friends believe you may be a cryptid, but you’re just British, and gay. You’ve managed to watch episodes that don’t exist anymore, and you’re very cagey about the location of your TARDIS.
Heptapod: You are Amy Adams, and I claim my prize. Not only does your unique understanding of language give you a different perspective of time itself, but you’re a skilled calligraphist and you’ve studied Linguistics at least once. Caffeine makes you tired, somehow, but you drink it anyway. You secretly think it’d be cool to meet an alien, and you’re all for Nuclear Disarmament, but you’ll settle for world peace, and creating a universal translator within your lifetime, instead... Which adds up to the same thing, really. You have a passion for academia, but you don’t really have the energy for it. You’re comfortable with losing people over time, and accept it as a natural part of life, but sometimes you bottle your feelings up a little too tight.
Huttese: You’re a huge Star Wars: Expanded Universe fan, and you wrote several strongly-worded tweets to the Disney execs when they declared your favourite comic books non-canon. Those sleemos can prise Mara Jade out of your cold, dead hands. You have friends in powerful places, although you wouldn’t always describe them as friends. At your most vulnerable, you need someone to take care of you like you’ve just lost a hand and been told the villain was your father all along, but you can be terrifying when you need to be.
Judoon: You’re a Doctor Who fan, but only for the memes. You die a little inside when people take it too seriously, but you also own at least one Too-Long-Scarf. You don’t have a favourite Doctor, but you get an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for your childhood when someone cracks out this version of the Doctor Who theme. You’ve never had a crush on David Tennant, but Captain Jack made you realise you were Not Hetero. Sometimes people accuse you of being a little loud, but you’re certainly no crashing boar. You’ve heard of the elephant in the room, but what about the rhino?
Klingon: You’ve watched Star Trek: The Next Generation seventeen times over. You never set out to learn the language, but, one day, it stuck. You still can’t get the apostrophes in the right place on Duolingo, though. Your friend once complained that the Netflix version of TNG doesn’t have subtitles available when Klingon is spoken, and you felt smug for exactly 30 seconds, before realising you don’t know what a baQa' is, either.
Na’vi: You’re not an Avatar fan, because the more you learn about the worldbuilding of this movie, the sheer wasted potential of this movie, the angrier you get. No, my friend. The fandom you belong to is Lord Of The Rings. You’re fascinated by the way that language informs storytelling, although you watched the film Arrival (2016) and thought it was pretentious. You’re an avid writer and plan to write at least seventeen epics in your lifetime, and have notebooks upon notebooks dedicated to your intricate, meticulous worldbuilding. Now, if only you could finish that first chapter...
Vogon: You’re a Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy fan, and have listened to Pink Floyd and Dire Straits more times than you care to admit, though not by choice. No, you’re trying to find the album that Fenchurch and Arthur made love to. If you could ask Douglas Adams one question, it would be: “Where’s the sexy Dire Straits album?”, and he wouldn’t tell you. You’re still searching for it. You really know how to hold a grude, and you like celebrity gossip more than you’d care to admit. No one understands your poetry, and you feel justified in torturing them over it. Don’t worry, though. Listening to your poetry is torture enough.
Vulcan: You live and breathe Star Trek: The Original Series, have blocked/muted (or been blocked) by William Shatner on twitter at least once, and think it’s homophobic that Duolinguo has Klingon, but not Vulcan. (It is.) You have many OTP’s, but nothing beats This Simple Feeling. (It’s beyond V’Ger’s comprehension.) You respect other fandoms, but if someone dares to suggest that Star Trek TOS isn’t the best, your blood begins to boil. Luckily, you are in control of your emotions. Your fashion sense is a little Out There, but you’re an unrecognised trendsetter and your eyebrows are always perfect.
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justskulkingaround · 4 years ago
Text
OS - Rusame: Date Interruptions and Meetings
'Thoughts' / "Speech"
Russia wasn't quite sure what to expect on the second date, but America seemed to have planned it all out. They are seated across from each other in a fancy French restaurant, and both were dressed to the nines. Russia had a hard time keeping his eyes off his partner.
"Ya know, it's not every day that I see you with your hair styled," America comments.
"And what about it?" Russia questions, nervous.
"I don't know. I think I like it," America replies with a grin. Russia smiles proudly, and his cheeks turn light pink.
America's smile falls briefly, but it returns before Russia can question its absence, and their flirting continues until it's interrupted by the shrill noise of America's phone.
"I'm sorry, Russ, I gotta take this," America apologizes before answering the phone with a quick, "Hey, what's up?"
Russia listens to America curiously, trying to discern what the phone call was about. America had no problem ignoring France's phone calls earlier that evening, so Russia wonders why this was more important.
"What's going on?... Slow down. I can't understand what you're- ... okay..." 
Russia sees America's face fall, and his eyebrows furrow. He can't make out what's being said on the phone, but it worries America. America stands up
"That's a lot worse than I thought it was... yeah, I'm okay... no... yeah, I'll leave now. I'll be there in a few hours. Can you wait that long?... Okay, I'll see you then. Bye," America says, hanging up the phone, and he moves to grab his jacket, and Russia spots something on the dress shirt he's wearing.
"Wait," Russia calls, and America pauses, "are you okay?"
"What are you talking about?" America asks, perplexed.
"You're bleeding," Russia remarks, standing up.
"Oh... listen, I'm fine," America says, trying to wave off Russia's concern and cover the dark red stain on his side.
"Let me at least check first," Russia insists.
"Fine, but be fast," America relents.
They walk back to the bathroom and, thankfully, found it to be empty. America pulls up his shirt to expose the wound. Russia looks at it carefully. It doesn't look like a scratch or puncture wound. It looks like a fresh gash that, had it happened normally, it would've damaged the cloth covering it.
"What happened?" he asks.
"Domestic problems. Can we hurry this up? Please?" America replies impatiently.
"Let me wrap it up, and then you can go," Russia insists.
America sighs but doesn't fight against it. Russia retrieves a roll of gauze and bandages normally saved to cover his arms, and he begins expertly wrapping America's injury. Russia forces himself to focus on dressing the wound and tries not to look elsewhere, despite the urge to explore. Being this close to America is distracting in and of itself, but he knew that he had to finish.
As soon as he backs up, America drops his shirt and throws on his jacket to cover the bloodstain.
"Thank you. Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to go," America says, exiting the bathroom with Russia on his heels.
"Okay. Go, it seems important. Will you be back for tomorrow's meeting?" Russia replies.
"Yes, but I might be late," America sighs, "but it's the best I can do right now. Bye, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodbye. Good luck," Russia says, waving. He does feel disappointed that their evening had been cut short, but wasn't going to force America to stay. He sits back down at the table alone and wonders if the injury and the phone call were somehow related.
He returns to his hotel room later that night, trying to keep his worry at bay. 'America can handle himself,' he thinks, reassuring himself as best he can.
When he goes to the meeting the next day, he doesn't see America. Just before the meeting begins, Russia informs UN that America is currently dealing with a domestic issue. UN nods and the frustrated expression he had worn fades into one of understanding.
UK looks pleased that America had not yet arrived, but Canada looks worried. Russia returns to his seat and finds himself watching the door more than listening to the meeting.
About two hours after the meeting started, America arrives, exhausted. He falls into the empty seat next to Russia with a mumbled "hi."
Russia nods in acknowledgment.
"Finally, the brat arrives!" UK mumbles sarcastically. Russia narrows his eyes, and America ignores the comment.
"He was dealing with a domestic issue. His tardiness has been excused," UN announces, looking at UK in particular.
UK rolls his eyes and glares at America. America slumps in his chair and sighs. Russia was positive that had it not been for the sunglasses; he would see large bags marred under America's eyes from another sleepless night.
"Are you okay?" Russia whispers.
America looks up before smiling softly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired, you know? Didn't get any sleep last night and forgot to grab coffee on the way here," he replies quietly, shaking his head, "'sides, I don't think I'll be able to go and get any with UK here."
"I could get it for you," Russia offers, and America stares at him like he's some superhero.
"Really?" America asks, his tone hopeful. Russia nods.
"Do you care about what's in it?" Russia asks.
"Not really. I like cream and sugar, but at this point, as long as it's caffeinated, it's fine," America answers.
Russia nods and stands. UK looks up at him, suspicious of the exchange he had seen. Russia gives him a glare in return before leaving the room. He returns shortly after with a disposable cup and sits back down, handing it to America.
America takes it as if it's full of gold. Russia smiles, but his smile falls when he turns back and sees UK scowling at him.
'It was going to be a long day,' he decides.
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biletdoux · 4 years ago
Text
stages of love | j.jh TEASER
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Pairing: jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader
Rating: G (teaser), M (completed work)
Genre + Tropes: college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut)
Warnings: none (in the teaser), full warning list will be posted with completed work
Length: 1.7k+ (teaser), TBA (completed work)
Summary: A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart.
(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)
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Note: I didn’t intend to post a teaser, but maybe it will motivate me to write faster if I at least just put something out?? maybe lol. Story is based on an 8track playlist I found years ago which has been lost over time. I tried writing this story many times, but I finally got to it, so we’ll see how it goes. Let me know what you think ! <333
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1. Peach by IU
smitten at first sight.
“How can I explain this feeling?”
“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be in your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 
Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.
“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he had a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you had agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 
You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 
“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”
You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 
Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 
You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 
Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserved for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.
After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 
Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a music college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.
Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 
“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.
“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 
Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 
You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”
Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”
Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 
You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 
“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you were cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.
The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.
He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.
Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 
He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 
Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”
She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up.” 
Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 
They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 
“So…” you start.
“So?” She returns.
“He’s cute.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugs. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”
Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”
Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 
“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.
“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 
The reaction is almost instantaneous. 
“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.
When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.
Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 
“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 
You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.
How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago
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My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader
*Author’s note*
Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.
NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).
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Taglist:
@plethora-of-things​
@waddles03​
@psychosupernatural​
@dancingcoolcat​
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​
@ixchel-9275​
__________________________________________________________
There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met.  They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another.  But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.
Her name was (Y/n) (L/n).  And she—is and will always be the love of my life.
For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone.  As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.  
Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best.  In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards).  Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.
And won’t she be surprised when she sees me.  It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.
I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.
*My POV*
April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm.  It had been a long day.  5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor.  I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.
“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang.  She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together.  She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.
I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs.  We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.
So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had.  For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.
“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”
“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”
“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.
“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me.  We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.
“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.
“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.
I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.
“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.
“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.
“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.
“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”
“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”
“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”
“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”
“It sure did, thank you my love.”
“Anything for you my life.”
That was a thing between us.  When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself.  For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.
He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him.  I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.
So we both try to be each other’s support system.  We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life.  You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.
“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”
“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”
“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”
“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.
“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.
“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.
“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.
“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”
“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.
“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her.  Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them.  Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.
“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”
“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”
“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.
“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.
I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on.  Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.
“What have we got?”
“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.
“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.
“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.
“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”
“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”
“Lucy….”the man groaned out.
“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy.  I nodded and came up to the man and said.
“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”
“Yes. Where—where am I?”
“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”
“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.
“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”
“Barry.”
“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”
“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”
“I know, I know.”
“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered.  Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm.  Barry hissed and I said to him.
“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”
“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly.  I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.
As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet.  With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.
All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.
“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”
“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.
“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”
“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.
“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.
“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”
“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.
“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.
“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”
“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU.  From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.
Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.
“Nice job keeping him talking.”
“Just doing my job sir.”
*Doctor’s POV*
Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress.  I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive.  But not for himself, for his sister.
This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s.  She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.
Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life.  You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future.  She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose.  Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).
By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery.  His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.
I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted.  I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.
“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her.  I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.
“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”
“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”
“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”
“How did you—”
“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly.  God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice.  I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.
“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”
“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded.  I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”
“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.
“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”
“You mean…..”
“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.
And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.
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bitemealiienboy · 5 years ago
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Sonder | D!Master x F!Reader (Pt 1)
Summary: The year is 2014, The Master has been posing as O as MI6 for a year and is slowly but surely gaining the trust of the most important members of MI6. He is asked to work on a new project where he meets Agent S (the reader).
Word Count: Over 2300
Warnings: mentions of death.
Notes: Should probably warn you now that this is gonna be a slow build. The Prologue to this series and any other parts (providing they have been published) can be found here.
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“With a thousand lies and a good disguise.” — The Offspring
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Earth, what an awful planet. The Master hated every moment of his life here. He struggled to understand why The Doctor loved this planet so much, why they would even go as far as to befriend some of its inhabitants. He couldn’t wait to destroy this pathetic planet. He couldn’t wait to show The Doctor the charred and burnt remains of this insufferable planet. In his dreams he could clearly see the look of horror on The Doctor’s face, the moment of realisation when they find out that every human they have ever loved and known is gone with their planet. 
The Master had been working at MI6 for just over a year now and was still yet to meet a human who he found tolerable. He wished that he could miniaturise the whole lot of them. Acting like kind and sweet O all day long was draining and boring. Was it too much to ask for a little bit of excitement? 
The last time he had done anything remotely fun was the day he ambushed the MI6 Agent on his way to work. He would often think back on that day, his last act of brilliance in over a year. Shame there was no one there to see it. He remembered how he stalked the man on his way to work. The Master couldn't even remember his name. Either way, it wasn't important. As far as he was concerned the man was just collateral damage. A means to an end, at the time he didn’t care if the young man had a family who’d miss him. He still doesn’t care. 
The Master couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how he held up MI6 Agent against a wall forcing the man to give him all of his ID cards and his tie. He remembered how he let the man go, watching the man run for a small second, long enough to give him hope before pointing the TCE at him and killing him at the simple push of a button.
    The Master would re-live that day, a lot. Especially when things at his job got incredibly boring. 
    ~
The last thing you wanted was to see C first thing on a Monday morning. It was way too early for another one of his long and boring meetings. You needed a coffee or at least some sort of caffeine in your system to have the strength to sit through a pointless meeting.
You despise your new role at MI6. Your fall from field agent to an analysis wasn’t graceful. Despite it being over a year ago, you were still annoyed at C’s decision to remove you from the field over a minor injury.
You let out a sigh of annoyance as you reached the door to C’s office. You knocked on it a few times before opening the door and poking your head round. Much to your relief it wasn’t a meeting. C was sitting at his large desk, opposite him was a man with dark hair and a white shirt on.
    “Oh, If you’re busy I can come back later.” You said, about to close the door.
    “No, no. S, I would like you to meet, O.” C said getting up from his chair.
“O?” You said walking into the room. You walked toward the man called O. He stood up, he turned to face you. He has a warm and welcoming smile as he places his hand out to you. You shook it.
    “I’ve asked O to join you and your team,” C explained.
You turned to face C, raising a brow at him. “No one told me about this,” you said.
    “It was a last minute decision.”
    “Of course.” You said, trying to hide your doubt.
The meeting, if you could call it that, didn’t last long after that. C asked you to explain to O his new role and introduce him to the new office. So you did exactly that. You rushed through the office politics first. Small but important things like how you're expected to get everyone a round of tea and coffee once in a while.
After that you went on to explain what he would be expected to do. Your team's work mainly consisted of researching the public, in particular anyone who seemed suspicious or dangerous. Most of the time you and your team were wrong with your suspicions, the flaw of working in a somewhat dangerous job was that everyone was suspicious.
O followed you into the office kitchen, you put the kettle on to make yourself a much needed coffee.
    “Want anything?” You asked.
    “A tea please,” O said rather quietly.
You leaned back onto the kitchen counter as you waited for the kettle to boil. You glanced at O, quietly studying him. You could tell that he was still relatively new to MI6. The shy way in which he carried himself. There was also a certain naivety about him.
    “So what were you doing before?” You asked.
    “Same role but for a different department.” O said as the kettle finished boiling. “What about you?” He asked, helping to make the drinks.
    “I was a field agent. Undercover work.”
    “What happened?” O quickly said. He paused and quietly said “sorry, I’m being nosy.”
    “It's fine,” you reassured him. “I got an injury and C insisted on putting me on desk duty.”
O simply nodded. He could read your mind, well parts of it anyway. Upon meeting you he knew small fragments about you, bits of your mind that were on show to him. Of course there were some bits of information he would like to know, but he would get them from you in good time. The best part about it was that you would never even know about it.
    “So who are you currently looking into?” O asked, taking a sip of his tea.
    “Several Politicians and some ex-spies,” you said. “But if you’re asking about the most known person then it would be Daniel Barton.” 
O quietly and quickly noted how direct you were. He presumed it was a part of the job or perhaps the fact that you had no time or patients for wasting time.
    “So,” O looked at you as you spoke. “Are you ready to meet the team?”
O nodded. In reality he didn’t want to meet ‘the team’, he didn’t want to be a part of ‘the team’. He didn’t even want to be here for that matter. He would much rather be back in his TARDIS, or miles away from Earth terrorising a planet. He knew it was going to be a long few years. He knew he was going to hate every moment of it. But the look on The Doctor’s face would make it all worthwhile.
Upon meeting them he didn’t think much of ‘the team’ which consisted of S and three other agents named G, L, and M. There was nothing special about the three agents. They were all predictable and weak humans, they would all become collateral damage once his plan had begun.
    “O?”
He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to face one of the agents, it was L. Agent L was the tallest of all the other agents. He was lanky and looked younger than the rest of the team. You could see the acne scars on parts of his pale face, although most of his face was covered by a curly mop of brown, greasy looking hair.
    “I’ve heard of you before,” L said. “Use to work with a mate of mine.”
    “Oh really who?” O asked.
    “He said you did a lot of research on Aliens.”
He withheld a frustrated sigh. It annoyed him that L completely ignored his question. But what annoyed him more was the smirk of the boy's face when he said Aliens. He thought the urge to strangle him right there and choose to innocently smile and nod.
    “Well I can save you a lot of time,” O bit down on his tongue as L continued to speak. L’s tone was mocking, he made a small laugh before saying, “Aliens don’t exist.”
O faked a laugh and smiled. He walked away from him and went to greet the other agents. He didn’t want to but anything was better than L being am embarrassment. 
    He silently decided that L was going to have to disappear.
O kept to himself for the rest of the day. He had a small conversation with M and G but quickly knew all that he wanted to know about the two agents. M was a kind-hearted woman who hates her room mate and has a cat. As for G he was a man of average height but was incredibly built, he insisted on performing every task to perfection and had dreams of becoming a field agent.
    “Just ignore L. He’s only picking on you because you’re new.”
He looked up to see S holding two mugs. He smiled as you handed him a cup of tea and went to take a seat opposite him. To O smiling seemed like the simplest reaction for most situations. No talking was involved, meaning he wouldn’t slip up by accident. Also humans seemed to appreciate it a lot. “It’s like being back at school.” He said. It was partly true, one thing Earth and Gallifrey had in common was that school was a nightmare for some people.
    “That’s because L still has the mental age of a 15 year old school boy.”
O laughed at your comment. It was genuine, not a fake smile like before. You were the most bearable out of the team. Perhaps he would be nice for once and you wouldn’t become collateral damage in the years to come.
    “L is rather young. He still looks like he’s at school.” He decided to keep the conversation going.
    “Straight out of University. L might be childish but he’s smart.” You said, taking a small sip of your drink.
    “So he’s still got a lot to learn?” 
    “Something like that.”
    ~
The next few months were not fun at all for O. The work was fine, the work was bearable. What he hated was the people. Listening to his colleagues talk about their personal lives and to act like he cared about them was perhaps one of the greatest challenges that he ever faced.
But none of that compared to L and his constant jokes about Aliens. O wished that he could show L everything. To prove the smug git wrong. He imagined what it would be like to show him the stars and then to throw him into them and watch the fear on his face as he slowly died. O dreamed pushing L into the sun or a black hole.
His desire to kill L was endless. As O realised that his lust for murder wasn’t going to end anytime soon he had to take a week off. Just a week to leave Earth and become The Master again. He thought that perhaps burning a world would stop his need to kill L for a while. He thought wrong.
    “Hey!”
O sighed as he saw L. He was on his way home. He really didn’t want to deal with L. “What?” O grumbled in annoyance.
    “Why didn’t you give C my research pack?”
“Because it’s not my job to.” O watched in boredom waiting for L to reply. He didn’t. “If you have nothing else to see then—” O didn’t finish his sentence. He started to walk off.
But he couldn’t shake off the darkness that overcame him this time. He turned around and marched up to L. His hand went to his throat as he pushed the agent up against the wall. He watched L struggle and whimper for a second, feeling a warm buzz.
    “You know nothing,” He spoke darkly. 
He smirked at L, his grip on the man slowly got tighter the more he struggled. As soon as L realised this he became limp. All of sweet and innocent O was lost. He was The Master again. The Master used his free hand to touch L’s temple, he was going to prove him wrong. He sent him a flash of images of burning worlds and creatures from other worlds. He stopped once he decided that L had seen enough, he let go of the man and watched him run. He let out a laugh of excitement.
But that came to a quick halt. He ran a hand through his hair, his heart's racing as he slowly began to realise how big he messed up. Adrenaline began to run through him as he thought about what he was going to do. He had to get rid of L before Monday morning. He couldn’t risk the possibility of L telling on him.
   
It was Friday morning. L hadn't been in work for a few days and The Master was still buzzing from what he did earlier that week. For the time being, that feeling kept his mind off of the worry that L still told someone or that someone saw him.
He continued to carry on with the week as normal, he would do his work quietly and not bother anyone. Occasionally he would glance over at L’s empty desk, he would lock eyes with M or G who were doing the same thing. He would mirror their look of confusion and mouth a “I don’t know,” when they asked if they knew where L was.
It was late afternoon on Friday when S came into the shared office asking for everyone’s attention. O looked up at S, he took his earbuds out. From the look on her face he could tell that it was about L.
    “S, what’s going on?” M asked.
    “L has gone missing. . .”
O watched to see what G and M were doing. He saw Agent G put a hand to her mouth in shock. He slowly copied, he placed a hand to his mouth and kept it there. It hid the grin he couldn’t help but show.
    “You’re joking,” O gasped.
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cordonia-continued · 4 years ago
Text
Captivated
Chapter 20
AU - TRR Liam x MC (Riley Taylor)
A/N - Set after the Tariq scandal is cleared. Liam ends his engagement to Madeleine and proposes to MC as per the original story, but Riley turns him down. This AU follows their life from then on.
Word count - 2,885
@kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @amandablink @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30​ @mom2000aggie​ (let me know if you no longer want to be tagged)
catch up here
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“Max I’m running late already!” Riley calls out to her friend as she makes her way to the waiting car in front of the house. “We’ll talk about it later.” Maxwell was talking in that rapid quick-fire way of his that exhausted her, she puts her finger tips to her forehead and takes a deep breath before opening the back door of the car.
“Ok Little Blossom, just think about the navy blue silk dress that Cara Cavoletti sent over for the charity gala tomorrow night, I think it really suits you, and her clothes are so hot right now! And send my regards to Drake and Olivia, apologise to them that I can’t join you but Bertrand is being a real grump today, there’s no way in hell that he’ll let me out of the mountain of paperwork that he wants me to help him with!”
“Will do Max. See you later!” She calls out and waves back with far more energy than she possesses at this moment in time, slipping into into the back of the sleek black Mercedes she already feels utterly exhausted.
The black ribbons of the highway roll hypnotically before her as the air conditioning vents blast Arctic air over her. Riley fidgets in her seat anxiously, she can’t think straight this morning. Her stomach shifts uneasily and she notices that her clammy hands are clasping and unclasping each other as if in constant need of touch and reassurance. She’s thankful for the cloudless July day that means the oversized sunglasses she’s wearing to hide her tired eyes can be considered a summer fashion statement. When she rose out of bed this morning the sheets were in a knot and aside from a few fit-full half hours of vivid dreams she didn't sleep a wink. She’s on her way to meet Drake and Olivia in the capital for lunch, they’ve finally managed to all get an afternoon free to catch up. She was disappointed when Liam couldn’t make time to join them, but right now she’s relieved, she knows he would see through her too bright smile and notice her restless hands, and she really doesn’t want to answer his questions; not until she’s sure of the answer herself anyway.
She blinks dry eyes behind her sunglasses and yawns so widely her jaw clicks. The security detail that Liam put in place includes a personal driver, always at the ready to safely deliver her to wherever her heart desires. As the landscape outside her window changes from the monotony of straight roads and fields to the bustling traffic and crowded pavements of the city centre she decides that she needs to either put her mind at rest or face up to reality. She can’t take another restless night. She addresses her driver.
“Greg, can we make a pit-stop on the way, I really need to pop into a shop and pick something up.”
“I can do that for you Lady Riley.” Her bodyguard Mara annoyingly pipes up from the front seat. Riley grits her teeth and tries not to snap back at her.
“No it’s ok Mara, I can do it myself. I don’t need you to run errands for me. Greg can you just pull over here?”
“I can Lady Riley but there’s nowhere to stop and the traffic down Main Street is really heavy.” Greg warns.
“It’s ok Greg I’ll hop out. Circle back round and by the time you get through the traffic I’ll be here for you to pick me up.”
By the time her driver pulls over Riley’s hand is already gripping the door handle in anticipation of a quick get away. She quickly hops out onto the sidewalk hoping that Greg pulls away before Mara can follow. Unfortunately the bodyguard springs out of the passenger seat before the car pulls back into the traffic.
“Mara can you do me a favour and go and grab me a coffee from that coffee bar over there please?” Riley points to a distant coffee shop.
“I can’t do that Lady Riley, my orders are to be with you at all times.”
“Mara, I am perfectly capable of going into a store on my own, I’ve managed well enough up until now. Please just go and grab us all a coffee, I’ll be right out. Look there’s no one in there.” Riley gestures to the drug store in front of them devoid of customers. “And you’ll be like 50 feet away from me. I really need a caffeine fix right now, and we’re late already, I don’t have time to do both. Pleeease.” She pouts her plump pink lips and moves her eyes into what she hopes resembles a cute puppy dog look. A flash of doubt flits over Mara’s face. She’s conflicted between following Bastien’s orders to the letter and doing what Riley wants. Slowly she nods.
“Very well. But wait here for the car. Do not go anywhere else.”
Riley rolls her eyes.
“Of course I won’t. I am a grown adult Mara, I can look after myself you know.” She states with more venom than she intended. She doesn’t wait for a response before turning and entering the shop. She takes a deep steadying breath glancing around to make sure no one’s near her as she locates what she needs. The box shakes in her trembling hand as she takes it to the empty checkout and pays. She’s suddenly very glad for the dark glasses and cloak of long blonde hair that give her the anonymity she needs right now. She buries the box in the bottom of her handbag and pulls out her phone as she exits the shop. She texts Drake that she’s running late and will be with them in 20 minutes, she smiles to herself as she imagines him grumbling about her predictable tardiness to Olivia.
With her head down in her phone Riley doesn’t see the lanky man in front of her until it’s too late. She goes careering into him, losing the grip on her phone, it goes crashing down onto the pavement. Apologising profusely she bends down to retrieve it from the side walk. As she leans down she feels a hand grip the hair on the back of her head firmly. They pull on it, yanking her hard backwards. She opens her mouth to scream just as a gloved hand covers it. She kicks her legs out in any direction she can as she’s suddenly and forcefully bundled into the back of a van. She hasn’t even had time to register what’s going on before she feels a sharp pain in her neck and everything goes black.
                                                       ****
Mara walks back to the front of the store with a cardboard cup holder filled with 3 cups of coffee in her hands. She’s expecting to see Riley waiting for her by the road where Greg had dropped them off not ten minutes earlier and is annoyed when she sees she’s not there. Sighing in frustration she walks into the drug store looking down all of the aisles. When she fails to spot Riley down any of them she quickly walks to the checkout clerk.
“Excuse me, did you happen to see a blonde woman in here wearing a grey blazer, white t-shirt and jeans?” The young clerk looks at her blankly. “Tan leather peep toe pumps, tan leather tote bag?” Mara vaguely wonders why it is that she can conjure up a picture of exactly what Riley was wearing today but quickly dismisses the thought and puts it down to just doing a thorough job.
“About so high?” She raises her hand up to Riley’s height. He continues to stare at her as if she’s talking in a foreign language and she wonders if she should repeat herself in Greek. “Wearing sunglasses indoors? She was just in here a minute ago.” She adds, this seems to jog his memory.
“Oh yeah, sure, I just served her. She left a couple of minutes ago.” He shrugs.
Mara curses under her breath and runs out on to Main Street looking in the nearby shop windows for a sight of Riley. She’s mumbling to herself about Riley wandering off to go shopping as their car pulls up alongside the sidewalk. Mara runs over and yanks the back door open, hoping to see the petite blonde in the back seat impatiently waiting for her. However the back seat’s empty. She asks their driver if he’s seen Riley, he shakes his head in response complaining that he’s going to get a parking ticket if he has to wait much longer. Mara curses Riley for wandering off when she specifically told her not to go anywhere else. Placing the coffee cup holder on the roof of the black car she pulls her phone out of her back pocket. She finds Riley’s mobile number and jabs at the call button. She hears it ringing on the other end just as a nearby tinkling sound catches her ear. She moves away from the car listening to where the sound’s coming from. She follows the sound until she locates a phone face down on the black asphalt, picking it up she notices the screen is smashed like it’s been dropped.
Mara’s heart jumps into her throat as she taps a finger on the phone screen and it lights up with a background picture of King Liam and Lady Riley at the top of the Eiffel Tower. A text from Drake Walker and a missed call from her own number cut through the picture in notification banners across the screen. Panic begins to rise steadily in Mara’s chest, her breathing quickens as she leans into the car and yells “Where the fuck is she?” at their driver Greg who just stares at her blankly. She moves quickly as she looks in all of the nearby shops. She once again takes her own phone in her hand and with shaking fingers she hits the speed dial number for Bastien, she can hear her heart pounding as it rings, knowing he’s not going to like what she’s got to say.
                                                            ****
“What do you mean you can’t find her? Have you tried ringing her phone?” Bastien asks pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He leans back in his black leather desk chair, away from his computer screen, where he’s already preparing tomorrow’s briefing.
“Sir I have it here in my hand. I found it on the sidewalk, the screen is smashed. I’ve looked in all of the local shops and cafés. It’s like she just disappeared. I was gone literally 5 minutes.”
“What do you mean you were gone? Where was Greg?” Bastien asks between gritted teeth. He can feel a headache beginning to pull at his temples.
“We stopped on Main Street in the capital sir. Greg couldn’t park so he circled. She asked me to go get her a coffee while she went into a shop. She was insistent that I didn’t go in with her and that I go and get the coffee sir.”
“Mara you should have waited outside!” He yells. “I gave you very clear instructions on what this Close Protection Officer role entailed. The keyword here being close!”
“I know, I’m sorry sir but we were running late and she was really insistent.” She runs a shaking hand through her cropped brown hair. She knows she’s fucked up on this one and could kick herself for agreeing to go and get coffees. There’s something utterly captivating and endearing about Riley that makes Mara want to please her just so she can feel the warmth of one of her genuine smiles. Her eyes brim with tears. Guilt and regret churn up from her stomach. She clears her throat and swallows all other thoughts down as she pulls all of her training to the forefront of her mind.
The head of the Kings Guard barking orders at her down the phone interrupts her thoughts.
“Have you searched the vicinity? Have you spoken to anyone in the surrounding area? People don’t just disappear. Get the security footage from every shop along Main Street and the ones opposite. Text me your exact location, I’ll call the highways agency and see if they have any traffic cameras on that strip. Don’t leave the area in case she comes back. Do you understand.”
“Yes sir.” She answers, her mind already planning her next steps.
“Where were you going? Maybe she’s gone on ahead?” Bastien asks.
“She was on her way to meet Drake Walker and Duchess Olivia Nevrakis for lunch sir. The location is the Meraki Estiatorio on Limes Avenue.” She checks her watch. “We were due there 30 minutes ago.”
“Ok leave that with me, I’ll call Drake and see if she’s there. Mara you know I’m gonna have to tell the King if she’s not located in half an hour right?”
“Yes sir I know. She can’t have gone far, she’s probably just shopping or something. I’ll keep looking.”
Drake’s phone rings and he fishes it out of his pocket expecting it to be Riley calling to tell them she was late as usual. He’s planning his sarcastic retort when he glances at the caller ID noticing Bastien’s name.
“Hey Bas, what’s up man?”
“Drake is Lady Riley with you?”
“Nah not yet, she text me about twenty minutes ago saying she was twenty minutes away, you know what she’s like she’s always late. She should be here any minute, you want me to get her to call you when she gets here? Is Liam ok?”
“Drake don’t leave there until you hear from either me or her, do you understand?” Drake hears the gravity in Bastien’s low gravely voice.
Drake sits forward in his seat. “Bas what’s going on? Where’s Taylor?”
“I don’t know.” Bastien sighs.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Haven’t you tried calling her?”
“Drake listen to me, just stay there and let me know if you hear from her ok?”
“Why do you want us to stay here? Bastien tell me what’s going on!” Drake raises his voice. Olivia quirks a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.
“Drake I need you to stay calm ok. I don’t know what’s going on yet. Just stay put and call me as soon as you either see her or hear from her. Ok. I need you to do that for me. And don’t call her. We have her phone with us. And give me a chance to speak to the King first before you call him.”
“Bastien you’re worrying me now. Where the fuck is she? Why do you have her phone?”
“Drake I will call you when I know more. I have to go.” He hangs up abruptly not waiting for a response.
“Drake?” Olivia questions. Drake’s forehead creases in confusion.
“They can’t find Taylor. I’ve no idea what’s happened, they wanted to know if she was with us. Asked us to stay here in case she turns up. They’ve got her phone. I’m guessing she must have left it behind or something. But that doesn’t make any sense, she text me 20 minutes ago. Maybe she left the Beaumont’s without them and they’re just panicking. I’ll give Max a call and see if he knows what’s going on.” He finds Maxwell’s name in his phone and calls his friend putting it on speaker so Olivia can hear.
“Drake!” Maxwell answers enthusiastically. “Don’t tell me you’re all missing me and couldn’t live without hearing my voice?”
“Yeah something like that Maxwell. Listen, when did Taylor leave?”
“Oh, maybe an hour ago. She was running late, don’t worry she’s only like ten or twenty minutes late, I’m sure she’ll be there in a minute. What colour do you think goes best with navy blue? I can’t decide between silver and blush pink.”
“Max, now is not the time to discuss fucking mood boards. I need to know where Taylor is.”
“Jeez Drake, I was just after an opinion. Have you tried calling her? They’re probably just stuck in traffic, you know what it’s like in the city at this time of day. She’s not even that late. Remember that time that we kept you waiting for an hour on your own at that R&B club and you got accosted by that girl with more facial hair than me?” Maxwell laughs at the memory of entering the club and seeing Drake trying to unsuccessfully extract himself from the clutches of the bewhiskered woman.
Olivia smirks at Drake and he narrows his eyes at her. “Max, focus. Did she leave on her own?”
“Who Hairy Mary? No we had to hide when she went off to use the restroom remember?”
“Maxwell! For fucks sake, Riley. Did Riley leave on her own?”
“Oh! No, Mara and her driver were with her.” Drake looks up at Olivia, concern on his face.
“If you hear from her can you call me right away?”
“Sure thing. Is something up?”
“I don’t know to be honest Max, just call me yeah.”
“Yeah will do. When you see her can you ask her opinion on the navy blue situation please. Speak later Drake. Bye.”
Drake shakes his head.
“Something’s going on Liv.”
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anteroom-of-death · 5 years ago
Text
Life, For Dummies p4
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a/n: any one out here wilding? i’m just vibing and writing comes when you ave zero braincells left...
Waking up was a struggle, you’d never slept that deeply or that well. The combination between a long, hot shower and Earth-shattering sex made it all too easy to sleep. You were so, so sore, but it was good. You admitted you hadn’t been fucked like that, heavens, at all if not for a long while. You looked at the large mirror across from your bed, lifting up your shirt. You had a few book-related bruises. 
Stretching and feeling out the fact that you obviously didn’t have your sea legs yet. Your knees and thighs were wobbling and weak.
Then you caught it in the reflection. The collar- your collar. You half- thought it was just a fever dream. But it was real, and it’s weight was light but suddenly very noticable. The ring pressed against your larynx, the bow at the back felt oddly graceful as you flexed your neck to get a better look. 
You finally allowed yourself to cry- this was what dreams were made of. (hey now, hey now!) You were exhausted already, you were happy. You felt light years away from where you were before the Master whisked you away. Hell, the last time you saw the Doctor seemed just a memory. 
So much had changed. You felt completely different. Yes, you had all your same traits, likes and dislikes. But a week with the Master? Chaotic, mind blowing, devastating, beautiful, enriching and most of all, beyond your wildest dreams and even your deepest darkest wishes.
You definitely were different. The collar around your throat and the bruises and sore, stiff muscles proved you were. Not only were you having a tea party with the Devil, but you were the Devil’s whore. 
It was wicked, and all too amazing. He treated you well for the most part. Very well. For only knowing you a week, he seemed to harbor no true ill will. 
You got dressed and wracked your brain, reconciling everything finally and putting thoughts in boxes where they needed to go. It was slow, but needed. And time really did not matter anymore. You splashed yourself with cold water from the sink and prepared yourself mentally for outside your solitary walls. You had no clue what was waiting outside and you needed to put yourself out of any more revieries that might pop up. You had a lot of thoughts, and a lot of places to add up. Obviously, pro and con lists were out of the questions these days.
You supposed if this was a standard exchange of power, that rules and limits would be in place, but there was already the imbalance of aliens with knowledge of all of history, time travel, and space. Humans were simpler and had an equal footing. Therefore it was always up for debate.
You were halfway through finishing your daily SPF and thought about what if’s. Where was this all going? You couldn’t ask, obviously. He made it all up as he went along as much, if not more than the Doctor.
Poor Doctor, you allowed yourself to think, picks you up from your mundane routine only for you to better fit in with her best enemy. 
Her loss, his gain.
Things added up, morals and ethics wise. The Doctor could be just as callous and just as insane, yet hid behind the greater good. She was a spoonful of sugar whereas he was castor oil. Twin sides of a coin…
You shook yourself from these thoughts. Too much to process in one morning for you, especially without caffeine to mainline. 
You finished up and made your way out after stretching and taking a few excedrin you found rattling around the medicine chest. This TARDIS was incredibly intuitive and even materialised all your usual products you used. Or maybe the Master read your mind and supplied them. Either way, it was a big help…
You made your way out and sat down to an already piping hot mug of coffee and a tinkering Master. Your heart and stomach gave a flutter. You rolled your eyes at your over-eagerness.
“You’re finally up, I was worried that I’d have to physically go in there…”
You sloshed into yourself, “How long was I actually asleep?”
“19 hours. I think that qualifies as a coma with you humans.” 
“I obviously needed to sleep.” You talked into your coffee mug. It tasted good. Strong, a little crunchy, very much the perfect cup you didn’t have to add anything to.
“Mmn, you made this?” You asked, pointing to the mug held loft in your hand.
“Of course, I know how to make coffee, spent years on the Outback of Australia, I got bored, I know how to be perfect at everything…”
“Yeah, sure, perfect at everything.” You rolled eyes again, this time at him. 
“I am the Master.”
“Alright, alright.” You gave a concessional hand. You stared into your coffee and contemplated breakfast. You weren’t usually a big fan of eating in the morning, but all things considered you scraped yourself away from the coffee and started looking through the cupboards to see if anything was appealing to you in the moment. Nothing seemed terribly tasty so you just grabbed a bowl of random cereal and some sort of liquid you assumed was oat milk by the scent. 
You felt his eyes studying your back the entire time, you didn’t know if it was in an observational manner or just perversely taking a peek at your backside. 
“You like the show?” You demanded jokingly. 
“Of course, pet…” He leaned back and placed the device he had down. It was a long silver and gold rod with three prongs at the tip. “I see my pretty little pet has found her pretty little treat.” He went over and flipped a strand of your hair and fingered the collar at your neck before stroking at your sternum. He smiled down and flexed his lips open. The lighting made his teeth glitter dangerously. 
The dim lighting really brought out a beautiful tone to his lips. You tried to return to your cereal, but you pecked him on the cheek and steered yourself to a seated position. Temptation could take a temporary back burner. You had to get some semblance of nutrition into you.
He joined you at the table. 
“I was thinking of a few ideas, but I wanted your input.” 
“Really?” 
“Yes, really, I can more than enough make my own choices, but to spice it up, why not get some feedback? What chaos shall be wrought today?” He bent over the table, disregarding the personal space needed to eat a bowl of cereal and let actual brain-processing happen. 
“What all did you have in mind?” You scooted back infinitesimally and tried to finish breakfast quickly. 
He quickly pointed to some post-it notes, “Here’s the name of an intergalactic crime boss who owes me a few favors, figured we could go and rough him up until he squeals, giving me the powerful weaponry we all know he has. Or, here’s a plan to visit a certain set of pepper pots and make some deals that most definitely will backfire, but it would be great fun to see them get frustrated and deny the fact that they can get frustrated. Or I was thinking of visiting Earth and teasing Torchwood and UNIT around early 2000’s Cardiff, you know, for funsies. Oh! What if we went back to Raxacoricofallapatorius and destroyed their nursery?” He was spinning around and fluttering between notebooks and sketches including one where he was strangling a person in an army uniform and a handlebar moustache. 
“Jesus, how fast does your brain go?” You massage your temples…
“Too much? Huh? What would you suggest then?” He pouted, placing a hand at his hip and jutting it out.
“Why don’t we just start slow and nothing Earthly? Crime boss seem good? Simple even…” You slurped the milk off the spoon, “But lemme finish Breakfast first!” Pointing it at him, “Slow your roll. Savor the day. Do you Time Lords even sleep?”
“Rarely.” 
“Wow, that explains so much.”
He querched an eyebrow, “And what would that be, love?” The love felt oddly formal, not like being called a pet. 
“I’ve only met two of you, mind, so I might be generalizing...but the high energy. Like... “ You pressed your fingertips together, “Napping? Don’t you enjoy finding a good place to sleep during the day and just sleeping and enjoying the restfulness and sensations of the sun through a window and maybe a breeze if you open it a bit.”
“No, I’d love to try it, sounds pleasurable…”
“And you said that you were the Master of Everything.” You false-scandalized then laughed, cupping his face and smiling at him. It was great. He really made you laugh in one of those cheesy, stupid ways.
“I could punish you for talking down to your Owner…” He teased right back.
“Oooh...dirty.” You gave a salacious wink.
You could feel the “You have no idea…” radiating from his pores.
“Come along, my pet…” He pulled you from the table and over to the console, “We got a crime boss to torture…”
He punched in the coordinates and grabbed his jacket, then pulled you out the door…
You were toasting your success in the newly acquired weapons-room that now belonged to, as he poured you a little more champagne. 
You oddly enjoyed helping torturing the poor sap. He squirmed and you enjoyed him blanching from pain. 
The machine you saw him working on was a laser screw-driver? And he gave it to you as he was attaching some high tech hand-cuffs to the man. He told you that the controls were intuitive and to “give it a whirl...see how that grabs you…” Watching the gross little green man scream and shake around, flushing and pleading- felt good. Felt powerful. It brought you a tingle of pleasure and you could see why the Master was fond of it. The device felt good in your hand and after the second whorl of your wrist, it felt like a natural extension. It felt right to hold it in your hand and be able to grasp such power. 
A bit of sadism? Then champagne? And the thrill of a steal? All felt like an adrenaline rush.
What were you becoming?
A shred of our conscience echoed about the fact that you, obviously, had to kill him, something the Master allowed you to turn into him and avert your eyes as he shrunk his body and flicked it into a drainage gate. He knew your limits and didn’t go past what he knew you could currently take. You grimaced a bit as you heard a tiny clink. That was a tad harsh. 
All in all, a busy day... 
He was busy cataloging and cooing at all the tech he had access to his as he put it “fun, evil plans”...
It was hilarious and so endearing to watch. He was like a kid in a candy shop. Soft, feral, incorrigible. 
You determined that a small nap whilst tipsy and moonstruck was a great gift to yourself. You felt the collar and played idly with the diamond heart until you blacked out. 
You woke up to him watching you. “One of those fabulous little naps you talked of?” He stroked your thigh and massaged the fabric of your shorts. You pulled yourself up and propped yourself up on your elbows and coyly smiled, “Care to join me?” You winked, “Take a walk on the wild side. It’s a real treat. After that...who knows?” You teased him. 
He considered it and then loosened the buttons, and took off his jacket before laying it down and rolling up his sleeves. He laid down and you offered him to slide up to you. He obliged stiffly but soonly gave in. You spotted his chest hair and stared at it for a moment. You then acted, you traced it, mildly twirling your finger in its mass, he shuddered and then left you to continue. You laid down your head on his chest and felt his hearts pounding between two different beats. 
He murmured, “Keep the screwdriver. A little gift. From me to you…” You felt his hearts hitch a bit.
Sighing, you told him, “Relax." You let out a sleepy little moan. You embraced the warmth of his body and soothing echoing in his chest like a whitenoise machine. "You're doing excellent.." The Master eased up and you felt yourself ease up and drift off. You dreamt of falling through water and waves and the scent of fires and musk. You could feel a pair of eyes watching you, but they felt nonjudgmental, just guiding you deeper down. Deeper under the spell of sleep and total darkness. 
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sunniebelle · 5 years ago
Text
Surprises In Store
She thought it was a mistake, at first, but it seems destiny is determined to bring Rose and James together.
(tagging @doctorroseprompts)
Ten x Rose AU
Ao3
Rose’s morning had not been going well. Sleeping in was a luxury she was rarely afforded, yet her alarm failing to go off on time had allowed her to indulge an extra fifteen minutes this morning. The rush of adrenaline when she discovered this made it easy for her to beat her record for quickest clothing change and make-up application she could remember, though she chose not to fuss with her hair aside from flipping it upside down and teasing it to give it volume.
And of course, this would naturally be the day for her to realize she’s out of both tea and coffee—though to be fair, there really wasn’t time for either, already needing to run to catch her bus. Scarfing down a piece of toast, she ran out the front door and tore down the stairs, thankful that her job allowed her to wear trainers.
The only thing that kept her from giving up and wanting to return home to hide from the expectations of the day was the fact that she managed to make her bus, though just barely. And there were far fewer people boarded today than normal. She hoped that might allow her to make up some time.
A few minutes later, bright smile lighting her face, she stepped off the bus with still several minutes to spare. If she hurried, she’d have time for a coffee run at the recently opened coffee shop adjacent to Henrick’s. She’d not been in there yet and this morning she could really use the caffeine.
She made her way through the front entrance of Kasterborous Coffee, thankful there was only one person queued before her. Smiling pleasantly at the young woman helping her, Rose made quick work of paying for her coffee and moving to retrieve her drink.
So anxious was she to get to work on time, she turned hastily to exit the coffee shop and ran directly into a solid body, her coffee spilling down her front.
Her momentum bouncing her off the man, as well as the shock of hot coffee drenching her, resulted in her losing her footing slightly. Strong, long fingered hands grasped her biceps in a gentle but firm grip, helping her regain her balance.
Her gasped sputtering and muttered curses were suddenly drowned out by the smooth sounds of an Estuary accented voice talking quickly and apologizing profusely.
Her eyes traveled up the lean figure of the brown pinstriped suited man, all her anger, and any temptation of shouting at him to watch where he was going, suddenly flew from her mind. She was immediately captivated by his handsome face, hair styled in a modern sticky-uppy fashion, and deep brown eyes that looked at her sharply but with genuine concern. He suddenly stopped talking, allowing her brain a moment to restart and no longer focus on his pouty lower lip.
“Miss? You alright?” he asked anxiously, bending slightly to catch her eye and look her over for possible injury (apart from a mild scalding due to hot coffee, anyway).
“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine, thanks. Just…mind’s a bit scrambled, I guess,” she laughs.
He smiles, words seeming to tumble from his mouth. “Sorry about that. So sorry. I was a mite distracted, but of course, if I’d been paying attention then we wouldn’t be in this predicament, would we?” he asks, pulling on an earlobe. “Then again, if you’d watched where you were going, you might’ve avoided me altogether. Oo, was that rude? That was a bit rude, wasn’t it. Donna’s always gettin’ onto me about that, being rude, that is. Not running into lovely ladies and spilling their coffees on them. She’d probably give me a slap if she saw me now, too.” His jaw suddenly snapped closed, as though the thought of this Donna person giving him a slap was the only thing keeping more words from exiting his mouth.
Watching his face turn a bit pink as he continued to tug on his ear nervously, she wasn’t sure whether to be irritated for being insulted by him, or amused by his rambling and embarrassment. She thought his adorable ‘kicked puppy’ look made up for the insults.
“No, it’s fine, really. No permanent damage. I’m sure a good wash’ll get this right out. And I bet one of my coworkers has a shirt or something I can borrow.”
It suddenly dawned on her that she was likely to be late clocking in unless she left immediately. And her witch of a manager, Cassandra was unlikely to have any pity for her regardless of the circumstances surrounding her tardiness.
“Sorry, gotta run. My boss’ll have my head if ’M late. Um, well… bye, then.” Not giving the man any time to reply, Rose shot out of the coffee shop, throwing away her nearly empty cup on the way. She managed to make it just in time to clock in, roughly thirty seconds from being officially late. Lucky for her, since a reprimanding from Cassandra would have been the icing on the cake to her day that she really didn’t need.
The rest of the day seemed to drag, allowing her mind plenty of free time to wonder about the bloke who was the cause of her wearing a slightly too-small shirt (borrowed from Linda with a y; though her perkiness could at times be annoying, she had turned out to be a good friend). Too many times Rose had to drag her mind back to what she needed to be focused on and away from thinking of her mystery man.
The feel of his long-fingered hands gripping her arms, what it might feel like to run her hands through his great—really great—hair, or to puts a kiss to his tempting, pouty lower lip.
Stop it! God, what was wrong with her?! It was one disastrous meeting and now her mind would not stop thinking about him. She didn’t even know his name!
She’d likely never see him again, which was just as well. She would probably wind up making a fool of herself. He looked too well off to want anything to do with a shopgirl from the estates who never got A-levels. It was time to put all thoughts of the handsome stranger behind her.
Her resolve crumbled many times over the next few days, but slowly she was able to leave all thoughts of Mr. Sticky-Uppy Hair behind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
Almost a month to the day of the coffee incident, Rose walked into Kasterborous Coffee. This morning seemed to be going much smoother for her, so far at least. There hadn’t seemed to be any major problems cropping up, and she was really looking forward to enjoying a cup of coffee on a rare day off.
However, she got quite the shock when she finally went to order.
Standing behind the counter was the man she’d bumped into, still looking amazing with his wild hair that defied gravity and brown pinstriped suit that seemed to hug his frame perfectly. His bewildered look quickly gave way to a bright smile and twinkling chocolate-brown eyes. She spared a moment to think that he really had no right to look that gorgeous, it wasn’t fair since he seemed to be able to scramble her thoughts with a single look.
“Hello!” he proclaimed brightly. “Come to get a coffee? Don’t worry, I’m behind the counter today so it’s unlikely I'll drench you with it.”
Laughing with him, she smiled brightly, her brain suddenly working again.
“Yeah, I generally prefer to drink my coffee rather than wear it,” she teased him, smiling with just a hint of her tongue showing. She felt a pleasant jolt when she saw his eyes stare at her mouth.
Seeming to realize what he was doing, he blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, coffee! What kind would you like? Cappuccino? Or maybe a latte? Oh, we have a brilliant espresso that tastes brilliant with caramel or chocolate?”
Rose felt rather bemused for several moments as he threw out possible suggestions of drinks she might like. Before she could say anything though, a red haired woman walked up and smacked him hard on the arm.
“Oi! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm, managing to look simultaneously offended and a bit scared.
“To get you to shut up, Spaceman. If you’d stop blathering away at the poor girl she might be able to tell you what she wants!” The ginger woman's face and voice told of her exasperation, but there was a hint of a mischievous smile peeking through and humor danced in her eyes as she winked at Rose.
He gave Rose a sheepish smile as the woman walked off, muttering under her breath about idiots and outerspace dunces.
“Spaceman?” Rose asked, puzzling over the odd name.
“Oh, that’s one of the many nicknames Donna has for me. Not sure why she calls me that, honestly. Started when we were kids and it seemed to stick, I guess. Anyway, my name’s James Noble.”
She shook the hand he offered, trying to ignore the tingling she felt when they touched. “’M Rose, Rose Tyler.”
“Lovely to meet you Rose Tyler!” She wasn’t sure what to make of the pleasant feeling that flowed though her at hearing him say her name like that, as though he were caressing it.
She nodded and smiled, not trusting her voice. When he asked again for her drink order, after a pointedly cleared throat from a customer behind her, she ordered the first thing she saw on the display, which happened to be a mocha latte. She balked a bit when he wouldn’t let her pay for it, declaring that he owned her one since he caused her to spill hers last time. Feeling a bit flustered, but in a good way, she chose not to argue the point, not wanting to hold up the queue any longer.
When she made to get her drink, she was handed a large cup, a generous helping of whipped cream and chocolate shavings decorating the top. Since business had dramatically picked up, she wasn’t able to talk to James longer than to say goodbye.
Aimlessly strolling the busy walkway, completely forgetting anything else she'd had planned that day, she sipped at her drink and let her mind wander. What were the chances that she had met him again? And working in the shop next door, at that!
Just as Rose was trying to pull her thoughts away from the handsome James Noble, she noticed a flash of color on the cup’s sleeve. There, written in blue ink, was James’ phone number. His…phone number. He had given her—her—his phone number!
A megawatt smile lighting her face, Rose slipped the sleeve off the cup and tucked it into her pocket, before throwing the cup away. Pulling out her phone to look up the hours of operation for Kasterborous Coffee, she headed home, all the while making plans for an important phone call later in the day. Not even realizing she was chewing her cuticle a bit, she ran through possible conversation topics and what she might say, and what he might say back.
Though she wasn’t sure what would happen in the near future, she was certainly excited to find out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
Happy Birthday, @creativebec! Hope you have a lovely Birthday, Bec!
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