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studiojeon · 3 years ago

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use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | - Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee).

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed.

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish. “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes.

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better.

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you.

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face.

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly.

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips.

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way.

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion.

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on?

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week.

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker.

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way."

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while.

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either.

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out.

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside.

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you.

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know".

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right.

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?"

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though.

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t.

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

388 notes · View notes

theasstour · 4 years ago

Photo

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Monday, 25 September 2017

It was strange to Y/N that she was enjoying herself as much as she was just then in an educational setting. In school, she had never really liked any of the subjects besides English, and here at uni, she got to sit and listen to professors who were truly experts on English literature ramble on about Othello and specific analysis on act 3 scene 3. She loved every single second of it, and was sure she could sit there for hours on end just listening to her professors. At one point she was sure this would all get tiring and she’d hate University, but in that moment, hearing her professor, Richard, talk about things that truly interested her, was such a breath of fresh air compared to what she had experienced previously.

The door to the lecture hall opened, and since the doors were right by the blackboard where Richard stood talking about Othello and the ‘temptation’ scene, all eyes landed on the blonde girl in pink shorts and a white jumper. She smiled at Richard, mouthing a “sorry” before taking the first free seat she could find, which was conveniently right beside Y/N. The two girls shared a small smile themselves before Y/N went back to focusing on the lecture happening in front of her. Y/N was hunched over her notebook, writing something off from the PowerPoint slide displayed on the wall in front of her. She did not know how much time went by, she was listening too intently to care about that, but suddenly, the blonde beside her rested her back against the seat and leaned a little closer to Y/N.

“This is quite boring, innit?”

Y/N looked to her left, and to her surprise, realised that the girl who had walked in late was Chloe. The same Chloe who she had met when she registered a week and some ago. She must have been too caught up in the lecture to pay proper attention to her surroundings.

Chloe let out a small chuckle, nodding in the direction of the PowerPoint before she continued to whisper. “The lecture. I knew we’d be discussing Shakespeare in Introduction to English Studies, but Othello’s just fucking boring, innit?”

“I…” Y/N looked at the PowerPoint for a few seconds, then back at Chloe. “Sure.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, Chloe just studying Y/N, eyes searching her face. “You like Othello.”

Y/N felt a sudden urge to relate to Chloe. Since they had met earlier and since she hadn’t made tons of friends on her course yet, she wanted Chloe to be her mate. If they got off on the wrong foot today, they might never sit next to each other again.

“It’s not as good as Twelfth Night, not as bad as Julius Caesar.”

Chloe continued to just look at Y/N, but suddenly, a smile came creeping over her lips. “Take it you like Shakespeare.”

“I like analysing his work, yeah.”

“More of a Modernism, and sometimes Postmodernism, girl myself.”

“I’m not big on either of those.”

Chloe let out a small chuckle again. “You won’t be taking Postmodernism next year then?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Chloe only crossed her arms and stared ahead, still smiling. For a second Y/N was afraid she might have said something to make Chloe detest her, but the next, she reminded herself that she had to live her truth regardless of what anyone said about it. “Guess we’ll just have to enjoy each other’s company in the core modules then.”

Y/N felt a few butterflies in her stomach at that and could not help smiling back at Chloe when their eyes met again.

“How come I haven’t seen you at any Freshers parties yet?” Chloe asked.

“Been busy applying to jobs and such,” Y/N explained. “Gotta get one as fast as possible ‘cause I need money to live.”

“Ahh, fair.” Chloe nodded. “One of my course mates, Hayden – think they’re up there somewhere –“ Chloe pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, indicating further up the lecture hall. “Has decided they’re going to start an Uno society.”

“Uno?” Y/N frowned. “As in the card game?”

“Yeah,” Chloe laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be nice and all, but they’re very passionate about it. Have yet to come out with me, Thian, and Annalise. Those are my other course mates, by the way.”

Y/N nodded. Was she just incompetent at making friends or was Chloe just very good at it? How had she made so many friends, made a small group by the sounds of it, and Y/N had barely talked to anyone on her course yet?

“Hayden promised to come out this Friday, though,” Chloe smiled. “You should come, too.”

For some reason, both nerves and excitement rushed through Y/N at that. She smiled back. “I’d love that.”

“Wicked. It’s at my Dinwiddy flat.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Uni accommodation at Helmond is a huge piss take, I tell you. I feel like there’s mould everywhere.”

“That’s just UK houses in general. We’ll all die from it one day.”

“It’s literally disgusting,” Chloe said. “Also, one of my flatmates never does his dishes. It’s minging. And it’s started smelling, too.”

“Oh, my days.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad I just immediately moved in with my best mate instead of going through the whole uni accommodation thing. At least I can be assured that they do their dishes and no food’s left on the kitchen counter for too long.”

“Oh, that sounds lush.”

The people around Y/N and Chloe were all starting to pack their things and get out of their seats. Seeing as the two of them were sat by the edge of the row, they had to get up rather fast and let people through. So, that’s what they did. Y/N put her notebook and pencil case in her rucksack and slung it onto her back before she and Chloe made their way out of the lecture hall and out into the hallway beyond.

“There they are,” Chloe grinned, waving as she saw a small group of three standing by the wall a bit further down. “Come say hi.” Though Chloe wasn’t looking at her, Y/N assumed she was talking to her, so she followed her over to the rest. “Gang, this is Y/N, the one I met while we were both registering.”

“Ah, you’ll be Y/N, then,” a man with protruding cheekbones, a strong jawline, and deep set, brown eyes said. The Viet man’s smile lit up the room they were standing in, and it made Y/N’s overthinking ebb. “I’m Thian, pleasure to meet you. Chloe told us she met you, but never saw you since.”

“Proper rude of the universe to keep us away from each other for so long,” Chloe said.

“I’m Hayden,” a smaller person said with the greenest eyes and long brown hair. They too had a smile like Thian’s, but this one displayed crooked teeth, which made Y/N more at ease with her own bottom teeth that were the same.

“And I’m Annalise,” the last one said, her hair dyed an unnatural dark red colour that Y/N absolutely loved. “I think I saw you in a Critical Reading seminar.”

“Oh, yeah, I think we might be.”

“We’ll have to sit next to each other next time!”

Y/N could detect a slight accent, but she could not tell where Annalise was originally from. She suspected Germany, there were tons of international students here after all, but Y/N did not want to assume.

“Guys, we have to plan the first Uno society meeting,” Hayden said, looking at the time on their phone. “It was so nice to meet you, Y/N, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

She just smiled. “No, totes get that. I need to get back to my flat, anyway.”

“See you around, then,” Chloe smiled, waving as the four of them walked off.

Y/N walked home to Orsman Road. Though she knew there would be less walking if they took the tube, it would also mean that she had to walk on and off boiling hot tube trains and stations, and she was not about to do that. She was sweating enough in the late September sun as it was, she did not need the tube to contribute to her sweat moustache as well. Instead, she plugged her earbuds in and listened to her most recent playlist on Spotify, humming along to her favourite tunes as she walked.

She stopped by Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland station, buying herself a sausage roll and an iced latte before walking the rest of the stretch home. Hackney bustled around her, with tons of cars, double deckers, and mopeds driving by, as well as all types of people milling to and from work. The early autumn sun was still a little too hot, but it seemed like most Londoners were soaking up the sun while they could. They were walking by in shorts, tee shirts, and summer dresses, while the only reason why Y/N was dressed in her tee shirt and trousers, was so she would not quite literally go up in flames on the way home.

Y/N arrived at Orsman Road not long after her trip to Gregg’s, and walked up to the flat. She locked the door once she was indoors, checking the kitchen and the living room to see if anyone was there. To no one’s surprise, none of her three other student flatmates were home in the middle of the day on a Monday. She walked up the stairs and to her room, letting her door be open so she could air out a bit more. Her windows had been open all day, so her room smelled fresher than normal as she entered. That just reminded her that she had to buy some scented candles or air fresheners to liven up her room.

Putting her rucksack down by her door, Y/N started looking through the two bags that she had yet to pack out from. In one was most of the stuff she’d put on her desk when she finally bought that, and in the other were loads of decorations that she had yet to bring forth. She started pulling out fairylights that she wanted to hang across her room or over her wall, when she heard footsteps. Out of the door directly to the right once you came up the stairs, came a man with short dark hair and a strong build, thin lips and pale skin. He must have heard movements outside his door, because his eyes landed on Y/N almost right away. However, he smiled at her and Y/N immediately knew who this was.

“You’re Y/N, then,” Mason said, walking over to stand in the doorway of her room. “Mason, your third flatmate.”

“Thought I’d never run into you,” Y/N smiled, making his smile grow.

“Yeah, got here like two days ago, and have been all over the place since. Helped some of my mates move into their flats, been at work, and at rugby practice.”

She nodded. “Busy man.”

“Very busy.”

“Lucky I caught you now, then.”

Mason nodded his head. “Would have eventually. Knowing Nath, he’ll probably end up forcing us all to bond as a flat at one point.”

“Sounds horrific.”

“It was. It will be,” Mason laughed, leaning against the doorframe and pushing his hands into his grey joggers.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “It was? He’s done it before?”

“Yeah, our first year. He made everyone in our flat bond, he especially talked about flat yoga sessions and shopping trips when he was drunk or high as a kite.”

She dropped the fairylights and turned her full attention on Mason. “You lived together your first year?”

Mason just looked at Y/N, blinking a few times. “Yeah.”

“All three of you?”

“All three of us. Me, Nathan, Harry, and like five girls.”

Y/N felt like screaming, but lucky for her dignity and Mason’s ears, the front door opened and closed. Nathan’s singing could be heard all the way upstairs. Instead of screaming, Y/N called Nathan’s name, not caring that Mason saw just how annoyed she was now. Poor bloke had no idea what he’d just said. Nathan strolled up the stairs and looked in Y/N’s room’s direction, his face lit up at the sight of Mason and Y/N together.

“What a view!” he grinned. “What’re you two bonding over?”

“Right now we’re bonding over being your friend,” Y/N said.

“Which I’m sure you’re both honoured to be, yes.”

“And I just heard you’ve lived with Mason and Harry for the last year, but have not told me,” Y/N said, ignoring Nathan’s previous comment.

Nathan looked to Mason, and then back at Y/N. “No, Harry moved in later. He lived in another flat first, hated it, and since him and Mason were good mates, he got to move into our place since one of our flatmates dropped out our first week.”

Not caring that she would smudge her makeup, Y/N ran her hands over her face. “How long did he live there, Nate?”

Silence for a second or two. “Start of second semester till we moved out.”

Y/N let go of a heavy sigh. “Nathan, why didn’t you just tell me?-“

“-I know, I know, I know,” Nathan started, walking into Y/N’s room and sitting down on the floor beside her. “I’m a shite friend.”

“You really fucking are,” Y/N said, swatting Nathan’s hand away when he tried to take hers. “Harry was both of our friend when he lived in Notts those months, and I literally had sex with him.”

Mason took a small step back in pure shock, blinking rapidly as if an eyelash fell onto his eye.

“Don’t I have a right to know you’re living with him?” Y/N asked.

“You do. Of course, you do. I just… I thought I told you at one point, and when I got home and I found out I hadn’t told you… I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“How about just telling me?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Instead of hiding it from me like that.”

“Technically, I didn’t hide anything ‘cause I thought I-“

“-Nathan, I’ll literally skin you alive-“

“-Fine, I should have told you,” he groaned, taking her hand this time and holding it tight in his. “How can I make it up to you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but came up with the perfect solution. “By coming with me when I go out with my course mates on Friday?”

Nathan just looked at her, blinking once. “My punishment is to… go out with you and your mates?”

“Yes. I barely know them, I need moral support. No matter how bad the person giving me said support actually is.”

Nathan looked down at their hands, patting hers slightly. “I’ll come.”

“Thanks.”

He continued to look down at their hands as Mason’s quiet footsteps back to his room sounded throughout the first floor. “I do have a lecture that finishes at 7pm-“

“-You’ll skip that lecture if you so have to.-”

“-Yes, ma’am,” Nathan answered without hesitation, kissing her hand and getting up from the floor. He gave her a small smile. “And I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you.”

Y/N nodded. “Is there… Is there more you haven’t told me? In regards to Harry?”

Nathan pretended to think for a few seconds, eyes getting big as if he remembered something.

“Nath?”

He chuckled. “No, nothing.”

Y/N hit him on his calf before he walked away. “You’re bloody buying the first round of drinks on Friday.”

“As I should,” was all Nathan said before he danced off to his room. Y/N picked up her fairylights again, trying to get them out of the messy tangle they were currently in so she could finally make this room look like her and her new home.

Friday, 29 September 2017

Y/N was nervous. She was usually nervous before going someplace she had never been before, or to meet people she had never met, but it was never like this. Her nerves were almost always drowned by her natural eagerness to be around people, to be surrounded by friends and strangers. However, this, her first pre-drinks at uni with other people, had her feeling a little too nervous for her own tastes.

She loved parties. Fuck, if she could party every single day, she would. She did not care about the hangover that came the following day, as long as she had a good time the night before. At home in Nottingham, she would have loved to party as much as she had in London, but for some reason, meeting as many new people as she had, made her nervous for some reason. It was weird to Y/N because she loved making friends, but it was different here. She had yet to figure out what about University that triggered this reaction out of her.

A knock sounded at her door and she grunted, which Nathan took as a good enough sign for him to be allowed entrance. He grinned, sitting down on Y/N’s fluffy dark blue duvet cover and looked his best friend up and down.

“Lush,” he said.

Y/N glanced at the mirror in front of her again, running her hands down her sides. Her black ruched detail ribbed crop top fit her perfectly, making her tits look exceptionally good, and the gold necklace and earrings topped it all off. The crop jeans in light wash blue were tightened at the waist by a black belt with silver eyelets, the black lace up boots made her almost as tall as Nathan. Though Y/N had been out on town in Nottingham with this very same outfit, she was unsure about it now. There was a familiar fear in the back of her head; one that had not visited in a while, one that would lay low until it saw fit to paralyse her. Y/N was experiencing only the tip of the iceberg now. The rest would reveal itself later, it would all melt and drown her in nervous ticks and anxious tendencies.

God, she hated how nervous she was. This was not like her at all. Nathan knew this, which was why he picked up on how unusually quiet his best friend was. He got up from where he was seated on the bed, walking over to Y/N and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s up?”

She took a deep breath, looking at him in the mirror. “You remember the party at Jack Lloyd’s?”

“When we were 17?”

“Yeah, and I was nervous to wear that tight-fitting dress? ‘Cause of my stomach?”

“Yes, even though you had no reason to be nervous.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m feeling like that now,” she admitted. “Not as intensely, but it’s there and… I haven’t felt this nervous about being seen in a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘being seen’?”

“When… When you’ve had and still have a hard time accepting yourself, it’s hard to let others look at your body ‘cause you don’t want to exist outside your own head, if that makes sense? Being seen means people will have an opinion, it means they’ll piece together this image of you before even getting to know you. It means them judging you on your looks alone before they get to actually know you.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders a little, Nathan squeezing them ever so slightly. “My confidence is much better now, but I still have those moments every so often when that 17-year-old girl I used to be will come back and whisper something discouraging into my ear.”

Nathan nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck and bringing her to him. She melted into her best friend, taking a grip of his forearms. “I know it’s much easier said than done, but focus on now. You’ve come so far, and though that 17-year-old is part of the reason why you are who you are today, she’s got nothing to do here. 19-year-old Y/N has come so far, she has no time revisiting the past ‘cause she’s going to a party tonight, and it’ll be fucking fantastic, yeah?”

Y/N chuckled, closing her eyes as Nathan planted an encouraging kiss to her cheek. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I fucking am.”

She laughed.

“Now, get your vodka, tequila, sourz, or whatever the fuck you’re drinking, and let’s go.” Nathan let go of her and walked to the door, opening it. “You got Chloe’s address?”

“Yeah, it’s Dinwiddy, flat 10.”

“Uni accommodation?”

Y/N huffed, reaching for her purse and putting it over her shoulder. “Did you expect my first-year mates to live anywhere else?”

“Not really. Dunno why I’m shocked.”

Y/N searched through her purse, checking she had everything she needed before reaching for her plastic bag where her drinks were.

“Still remember when I lived in Coopers Court with Harry and Mason. Oh, how time flies.”

Y/N stopped short, narrowing her eyes. “I still cannot believe you didn’t tell me anything about you living in the same flat as Harry your first year at uni.”

Nathan sighed.

“Cannot believe you didn’t tell me he went to Helmond. Cannot believe you wanted us to live together without at least informing me-“

“-Mate, are we done with this?”

“Don’t think I’ll ever be done. You tricked me into this.”

“I did not.”

“What did you think was gonna happen when I found out?”

“We’ve been over this,” Nathan said. “I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal. Harry did not react like this when I told him I promised to live with you my second year, your first year.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, having already heard this.

“In fact, he did not mind one bit living with you.”

“I mind living with him.”

“Clearly, or else we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”

Y/N tutted, walking past Nathan and down the stairs. “I’ll let this argument be for the time being, but expect me to pick it back up again tomorrow when my mind’s not all over the place. I want to be able to fucking destroy you.”

“Great. Can’t wait.”

Y/N and Nathan started walking in the direction of Dinwiddy, the biggest uni accommodation at Helmond, where most students ended up staying. Parmiter Street was a mere 30-minute walk away, and though they could have easily taken the tube, they both knew that it would be best for them to get some fresh air before drinking. Y/N also wanted to walk off some of her anxiety, though she was fairly certain that would not happen. On one hand she was looking forward to meeting Chloe and the rest of her English Lit gang, on the other, she was nervous. Her nerves came more from fear of experiencing the same blinding anxiety she had when she was younger, for that same feeling of helplessness and bottomlessness that it had brought her. What if it appeared when she was drinking? What if it got worse as she got drunk?

She hated how moving away to London and to University had brought her so much doubt. It was like she had to figure out who she was all over again. Here, it was only Nathan who knew her. Well… him and Harry, but the latter did not count. If Y/N so wanted, she could become a new version of herself. She knew that was something uni offered; finding a new you and shaping it into a person you want to be. There were several things Y/N wished she could change about herself. She had a horrible temper, was a little too loud at times, took many things far too personal, and more. She was unsure how much independence and a new environment could help make her a better version of herself, but she hoped Helmond and London could help her to some degree.

Once they arrived at Parmiter Street, Nathan walked straight onto Dinwiddy campus grounds and showed them the way to flat 10. The brown brick buildings rose five storeys high around them, shaping a small T formation with some benches along the stone path where people could sit on the few occasions when the weather would allow it. Nathan had been there the year before, loads of his friends from his Criminology course had lived at Dinwiddy accommodation and therefore hosted pre-drinks there. Nathan knew his way around, and, sure enough, he showed them right to flat 10. On the right hand-side, the first building, Nathan strolled over to the entrance.

He met Y/N’s eyes, trying to get a picture of just how nervous she was. After all, these were her friends, and had they been home in Nottingham, she would not have been this nervous at all. Nathan was not anxious at all, and he had never talked to – never met – Chloe or any of Y/N’s course mates.

“Listen,” Nathan said, giving Y/N a small smile. “If it gets too much, we’ll just go home, yeah? I won’t leave your side.”

Y/N smiled back, nodding her head. “Yeah. I’ll send Chloe a text saying we’re here.”

“We could just ring the doorbell.”

She looked at him. “Nath.”

“Y/N.”

“What were phones invented for if we’re just gonna ring people’s doorbells? I’m sending her a text.”

Nathan reached forward and rang the doorbell, making Y/N raise her eyebrows at him and take a deep breath as not to throw him against the brick building.

“Yes?” came from the speakers beside the doorbells. It was Chloe.

Nathan nudged Y/N, nodding in the direction of the speakers. She glared at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ahh, brill!” Chloe unlocked the door for them and Nathan opened it, letting Y/N enter first. They walked over to the stairs, looking at a sign there that showed them flat 10 at the topmost storey.

“They don’t even have a bloody lift, do they?” Y/N asked Nathan as she looked around.

“Gotta walk, mate.”

“Fuck me,” Y/N groaned as they began their ascent.

“I’d rather not.”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed a bit. They made it to the fourth floor, and Y/N knocked on the door as Nathan breathed heavily beside her.

“Hi,” Chloe smiled as she opened the door, stepping aside to let Y/N and Nathan in.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart beat hard inside her chest. Something about Chloe’s smile, the reminder that she had invited Y/N over, that she wanted her there, settled atop Y/N’s shoulders, making them sag to a comfortable level. “Brought my housemate, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” Chloe said, turning to Nathan.

“Nathan,” he smiled. “Thanks for letting me come here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chloe said, closing the door and showing them the way down a corridor towards the shared living space where a heavy bass was throbbing. The fluorescent lights overhead in the hallway resembled those at a petrol station, making Y/N squint as she entered the living room. There sat everyone she had the pleasure of meeting earlier that week. Hayden, Annalise, and Thian were all around the table with a glass each to drink. Y/N smiled at them, waving her hand as they all grinned back at her. She still felt like she was intruding.

“Y/N, Nathan, do you like sambuca?” Chloe asked, walking over to the kitchen bench to fetch plastic shot glasses.

“Never say no to sambuca, ey?” Nathan grinned, nodding for Y/N to go sit down so he could follow her lead. “We’ll have a shot each of you’re handing out.”

“I am, indeed,” Chloe said, getting two shot glasses and walking over to the table, placing the glasses in front of Nathan who looked absolutely ecstatic.

“Thanks, babe,” Y/N said.

“You lot playing a drinking game?” Nathan asked, getting his drinks out to mix them all together into his paper cup.

“Yeah, we’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Hayden answered. “However, if no one drinks, everyone’s got to take a sip except for the person asking, but the person asking’s gotta take two if no one drinks.”

“Ahh, alright,” Nathan said. “Creative. Love it.”

“This is Y/N’s friend, Nathan, by the way, guys,” Chloe said as she came back over with shots for everyone.

“Oh, yeah, this is Nathan. He’s a second-year, we live in a flat together in Haggerston.” Y/N suddenly felt stupid for not introducing him right away so that Chloe had to. She felt her cheeks heat up, but she refused to look like she felt headless. Instead, she got her vodka and cranberry juice out, mixing it as Nathan spoke beside her.

“We’ve known each other forever, so she moved in with me and my flatmates this year instead of moving into uni accommodation,” he elaborated.

“You knew each other in Nottingham?” Chloe asked, and, for some reason, the fact that Chloe remembered that made Y/N feel all kinds of warm.

“Yeah, been best friends for years.”

“How nice that you got to live together here,” Chloe smiled in Nathan’s direction, then at Y/N.

“It is, isn’t it?” Nathan said, looking at Y/N and giving her a small wink before going back to his drink.

“Right, we need to take advantage of being first-years and get drunk as often as possible,” Thian said. “So, tonight needs to be good.”

“It’ll be good regardless,” Annalise retorted, taking one of the shots from the tray Chloe had brought to the table.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Hayden asked.

Thian nodded. “Pub or club?”

“Don’t really feel like clubbing tonight, you know what I mean?” Chloe asked, the other three coming with exclamations of agreement or nodding slightly. “Pub then?”

“We have a pub right by us,” Nathan said. “Only 30 minutes away and it’s the best one in Haggerston, in my opinion anyway.”

Y/N wrinkled her nose some. “The Stag’s Head?”

“Yeah, it’s always full and they sometimes got live music and everything.”

“We could go there, yeah,” Chloe said. “If everyone’s in.”

“Could we take a bus there?” Hayden asked.

“30 minutes isn’t a long walk, though,” Chloe chuckled. “As long as Nathan and Y/N show the way, we won’t get lost.”

“Don’t count on my navigational skills when I’m under the influence, babes,” Nathan said, making the others laugh.

“We’re better off using Google Maps, he might just show the way to the Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland where he thinks the entire staff’s got a crush on him,” Y/N said before taking a sip of her drink, laughter erupting again. It felt good, like a pat on the shoulder, and Y/N instantly eased. Maybe she had not lost her old self at all, maybe she could still feel at ease, even around new people.

“They all flirt with me, and who can blame them?” Nathan shrugged his shoulders, whipping his head to the side so his lush, curly red hair dangled at the top of his head, grinning his wide smile and making the lip piercing shine in the fluorescent lights overhead.

The rest of the night went on, and it was easier to talk to everyone as time progressed. Not only because Y/N got more and more intoxicated, but she also just felt better after getting to know them all. Hayden always laughed the loudest, and their laughter was also very infectious, making it hard not to chuckle along with them. Annalise, though she sometimes stuttered over a few English words, was incredibly considerate and would urge Y/N to continue on with her story when others did not hear her. Thian offered Y/N tons of shots and complimented her on her outfit, making it easier for Y/N to feel good and seen, as she had been terrified of back at the flat. Chloe was easily the boss, and did most of the talking, though no one seemed to mind. After all, Chloe had introduced everyone to everyone, so people knew her the best out of everyone.

As time went on, Y/N just felt better. It was easier to talk to everyone and, at one point, she thought she was back at home in Nottingham, introducing herself to strangers at a party. They all made it easy to forget just how nervous she had been. It made her look forward to seeing them in her other lectures and seminars the coming week and all those weeks after that. Maybe these were the people she would spend her time at University with, and that excited her.

Bottles emptied and the volume inside the uni flat had increased massively. It was close to 9 when Chloe suggested they leave, and assured Y/N that she could leave the little she had left of her vodka at her place to pick up another day. Y/N took her up on the offer, insides warm from both alcohol and Chloe’s hospitality.

Nathan showed the way towards Haggerston and The Stag’s Head, arm entwined with Y/N’s for most of the way there. At one point however, Y/N let go of him and ended up walking beside Annalise and Thian, talking about one of the texts they had to read by Tuesday. It was such a mundane conversation, complaining about course work and talking about coming deadlines, that it felt like they had been mates for ages. The chat flowed so easily, the laughter rolled off their tongues, and it just made sense for all of them to be together, walking along the dark London streets in their tipsy states, making their way towards what would hopefully be the first of many trips to a pub.

They arrived at Orsman Road and they could hear The Stag’s Head before they saw it. Y/N had never paid it much attention. She knew she would end up popping by once or twice during her time at uni, but she had not envisioned her checking it out that first week. Nathan held the door open for everyone, resting a hand at Y/N’s back as he followed her indoors last.

The pub was small, but Y/N was sure that it was bigger than it appeared late on a Friday evening. Straight ahead, in a V formation, stood the bar, a wall filled with bottles of all alcohol imaginable behind it, lit up by red light which fit the dark red of the counter surrounding it. Far down to the left, it seemed the rest of the pub disappeared from view, but judging by the stairs Y/N could see, she supposed there was a loo somewhere in that direction, and it also looked to be where one could go to reach the smoking area. People were both sat and stood by the bar as well as booths along the walls. What appeared to be the stage further down to the right was unoccupied by any performers, though a few lads stood there with a pint each. There were no free tables, and this put a damper on the mood quite quickly.

Nathan, however, pulled them all towards the smoking area and they were all pleasantly surprised to see a free table and two benches untouched. Fairylights hung over the outdoor space, from the house and over to the fence on the other side. It lit up just enough, made it possible to see, but not too bright for people to squint when walking out into the night. A few empty pints and a smoky ash tray stood in the middle of the table, but Nathan put the glasses on the brick fence before everyone sat down.

“Alright, I’ll pay for your drink,” Nathan said, smiling at Y/N. “Anyone wanna come to the bar? Y/N’ll watch the table.”

“Ah, yes.” Chloe got up, the rest of the gang following along and walking towards one of the two entrances to the pub. Y/N got her phone out, looking to see if she had any notifications she had to check out, but there were none. She was about to resolve to scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, when she heard a slightly familiar voice.

“Hi there.” Mason sat down on the edge of the opposite bench, a cigarette in hand and a small smile on his lips. “Didn’t know you and Nath would come here tonight.”

“Oh, hiya,” Y/N smiled. “No, we didn’t know where we’d go after pre-drinks. He suggested this place, so we brought some of my course mates with us here.”

“You going out later?”

“No, think we’re just gonna stay here.”

“Yeah, this is a chill place,” Mason said, puffing out some smoke.

“This is my first time here.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

Y/N smiled. “You think I should’ve come here earlier?”

“More to do with the fact that our flat just loves this place, thought Nathan would’ve at least taken you here already.”

“He did now.”

“It’s my favourite pub around here, and Harry-“

“-Mase!” Nathan exclaimed, grinning as he came over with two gin and tonics. “You’re here as well!”

“Yeah, it’s a Friday night, innit?”

“Hi,” Chloe said, sitting down beside Mason with a wide grin on her face. It seemed like she wanted to introduce herself or to be introduced, but before Y/N could say anything, the conversation resumed.

“Hey,” Mason answered, looking back to Nathan who seemed to be ecstatic to see one of his flatmates. “Hear you haven’t taken Y/N here till now.”

Nathan sighed. “Not like I didn’t want to, just haven’t gotten the opportunity.”

“What’s so good about this place?” Y/N asked, looking from Nathan to Mason.

“Just close, innit? Also, it’s crowded, but it’s not as crowded as most pubs down by Kingsland Road,” Nathan elaborated.

“You lot have a good night, yeah? Need to get back to my mates.” Mason leaned past Chloe, stumping the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray before he got up, walking over to a big group of lads. Chloe stared after him as the rest of the conversation around the table started back up again, Y/N pretended to not see how she was checking him out. It felt like she was intruding on a moment that was not meant for anyone but Mason to see.

“You’re living with him?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s well fit.”

“Guess.”

Chloe giggled. “You’re taking the rule to not shag one of your flatmates seriously, then?”

“Shouldn’t everyone?” Thian asked, furrowing his brows. “It only complicates everything.”

“How? It’s only a shag. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with them,” Chloe said.

“Can’t really control your emotions, though.” Nathan shrugged. “Two of my flatmates last year shagged. He had feelings for her, she just wanted a one night stand. Didn’t end well.”

Y/N put her drink back down on the table after a long sip. “Well, if you’re clear beforehand and make it clear that it’s only for this night and there’s no emotions behind it other than temporary bliss, then that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” Hayden said, shaking their head. “It’s an unwritten rule. Don’t shag your flatmates.”

“Is it a serious rule?” Annelise asked, furrowing her brows.

“It’s got serious consequences,” Hayden answered.

“But if you’re both aware it’s only a one time thing, then is it serious?” Y/N asked.

“Babe, sex is complicated. You’re always just gonna be connected in a way, you know?” Nathan said.

“I can promise you I’m not connected to Ollie Lee in any way, shape, or form,” Y/N huffed, sipping her drink again as Nathan laughed, the other joining in because of Y/N’s obvious distaste in this Ollie Lee.

“Was he awful in bed?” Chloe asked, smiling as she looked between Nathan and Y/N.

“No, I was just desperate one night last year.” Y/N rolled her eyes at herself. “Let’s just say that mid-shag he asked me if I had to go to the toilet, and when I said no, he told me that whenever I felt like I had to, just pee on him instead.”

Gasps erupted around the table, and a second later, everyone started howling with laughter. Nathan kept on hitting his thigh, leaning into Y/N and laughing. Though it was a fairly embarrassing story on Y/N’s part, her definite lowest of low, she could not help feeling good about making everyone laugh like this. Looking around at everyone, she suddenly felt very good about herself, despite this being her worst sex story ever.

It was not like Y/N had fucked her way through Nottingham and had tons of stories to tell. In fact, she hadn’t shagged that many. She had had sex with eight people, three of them being women, one non-binary, and the other four men. She had been very vocal about the fact that the best sexual encounters she had had, were with women. They had all been so nice, and though it had never escalated to anything romantic beyond that one night together, they had made Y/N feel the best she’d ever felt. She suspected women just knew what to do, that they cared how she felt and did not solely care about their own release.

The group ended up just sitting around and talking for a while. It was nice to go somewhere outside of the uni setting and get to know some people, this was what uni was all about, or so Nathan had told her countless times. These people were as anxious about making friends and being liked as she was, but there they all were, making friends and going outside their own comfort zone.

At one point, Y/N had finished her drink and went to get another round for her and Nathan. The pub seemed to be even more packed now that it was closer to midnight. Everyone wanted to drink the week away, to forget about their lives for a little while and just spend time in good company. Y/N strolled over to the bar, looking up and down the counter to see if any of the bartenders were free to help her. The second her eyes landed on a familiar figure, she halted.

Harry’s eyes were already on hers as he stood almost right opposite her mixing a drink. He let go of a sigh, looking down at whatever he was mixing.

“You…” she started, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve got to be fucking everywhere.”

“Only ‘cause you’re every single place I usually am,” he said, continuing to make whatever drink he was making.

“Do you work here then?”

He looked over at her, raising one of his eyebrows. “I’m not a hallucination now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Can’t believe you thought I was a bloody hallucination.”

“Believe it. It’s all Nathan’s fault anyway. I’ll never forgive him for forcing me to live with you for a year.”

Harry let out a dry laugh. “To answer your question: no, thought I’d help out behind the bar to get me adrenaline going.”

“Well funny,” Y/N said. “You got me cracking up, can you tell?”

“Last time I checked, I got you laughing pretty hard, yeah.”

“That’s literally two years ago now.”

Harry finished the drink, putting it in a glass and placing it in front of the person standing just beside Y/N. Her eyes first landed on the watch on his wrist, the nice brown leather, and then her gaze travelled upward. She looked up at the man who was already staring at her, giving him a smile when she smiled at him. Their eye contact was put to an abrupt end when Harry poked the man’s hand holding the drink with the card machine. Y/N looked back at Harry, and then at another man with strong build and big, curly hair who stepped into view beside Harry.

“I’ll take care of her, Kai,” Harry said.

This Kai looked at Harry, blinking once before he met Y/N’s eyes again.

“She’s my flatmate,” Harry elaborated, making Kai study Y/N a bit more closely before he nodded once. He was very good looking, with a broad nose, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips, his brown skin glowed in the dim lights of the pub.

“That new one,” Kai said.

“Yeah.”

Kai smiled then, nodding in Y/N’s direction. “Nice of you to come check on Hazza. It’s always hectic on Fridays.”

“Oh, our other flatmate took me here, I didn’t come by choice.”

Kai’s eyebrows rose on his face and he looked at Harry who barked out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders at Kai as they exchanged a look. Harry walked over to stand right in front of her, signalling to Kai that he could take care of this one. Kai walked off, taking someone else’s order.

“Even feistier than I remember, you are,” Harry said.

She cocked her head to the side as Harry gathered a glass for her drink, already assuming that was what she was going to get. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

It left her lips before she even registered she was thinking it. Harry only took a deep breath before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, clearly choosing to ignore her statement. “What can I get you, Y/N?”

“Sex on the Beach, please,” she said. “Two of them.”

“Alright.” Harry started making them right away, signalling to someone that he’d be right with them after this. Y/N looked around her, meeting the gaze of the man who had just stood by her at the bar. He raised his glass in her direction and she smiled back. She definitely had to go talk to him after this. He seemed to be a bit older, maybe five years older than her, but just for tonight, she did not care.

Y/N glanced back at Harry and watched him, fascinated by how fast he managed to make the drinks. “How long have you worked here, then?”

“A year abouts,” Harry said. “Worked in a hotel when we moved to Brum. Tended to work at the bar when the bartender was out.”

Y/N nodded, eyes on his hands as he poured ice, shots, and all types of alcohol and liquids into her drink. “You lived there till you moved to London?”

“Yeah.” They were quiet for a moment, both of them remembering all of the things that were left unsaid between them. All of those words, moments, and memories they had created during those months the two of them had crossed paths in Nottingham.

He cleared his throat as he put the drinks down in front of her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t much like Brum.”

Y/N took a grip of the glasses. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno. Just didn’t find my footing proper.”

“In the two years you lived there?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.”

Y/N clicked her tongue. “Was it that bad?”

“Nah, I met tons of ace people and Birmingham’s a decent place, but…” He shrugged again. “Dunno.”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to decipher his words and if he was being truthful or not.

“Anyway,” Harry said, nodding to the drinks. “Take that other drink to Nathan – as I’m sure it’s for him – and when you bring that middle-aged man home later: please, be quiet. I have rugby at 11 tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “How dare-“

“-Y/N, what’s taking so fucking long?” Nathan shouted as he came up next to her. His eyes fell on Harry behind the bar. “Oh… forgot to tell you Harry works here.”

“Nath, shut the fuck up,” Y/N said, looking from Nathan and back at Harry.

Harry nodded towards the door, silently telling them to fuck off, and they did. They walked back to the rest who were still sitting by the same table outside. Nathan took his drink from Y/N and sat down, but just as Y/N was about to sit down, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She looked over her shoulder rather fast, blinking a few too many times when she locked eyes with the same man who had been standing beside her by the bar.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a broad smile.

Y/N almost felt herself blush. “Hey.”

“I’m George.”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, he gestured at the bench where she had just been about to sit down. “Mind if I sit down with you?”

Her smile widened. “Not at all.”

Y/N felt fucking terrible. Her room was too hot, too humid. Body sticky with sweat, limbs aching, throat burning with yesterday’s alcohol, and head throbbing, she opened her eyes slowly before shutting them again, groaning into her pillow. She hated herself for not drinking as much water before bed as she usually did when coming home from a night out. Sitting up, she looked down at the man beside her, racking her brain to remember what his name was. She ran her hands over her face, reaching for her glasses so she could see something, but quickly realising she left her contact lenses in the night before. Her eyes were so dry it hurt to blink and she suddenly realised why her head was hurting more than normal. Cursing herself, Y/N got out of bed with her glasses perched at the top of her head, picking up a tee shirt and some tights, pulling on her fluffy dressing gown before she made her way out of her room as soundlessly as possible.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. First thing she did was take her contacts out, struggling to do so as the contacts were so dry, her eyes having dried out with them. She splashed water in her face next, then drank the equivalent to the Atlantic Ocean before splashing even more water on her face. She then put her glasses on, realising that she had to let her eyes relax some after what she had just put them through. It took her awhile to gather up the courage to go to the toilet, where she made herself throw up the nausea she was feeling before having a very long peeing session.

Moments of the night before came rushing back to her, and as she sat there on the toilet, she remembered more and more. The name George came to her like out of a fog, and then the details started falling into place. She remembered how he’d bought her more drinks, how the two of them had sat talking all night about nothing in particular. She remembered his hand on her thigh and him leaning into her to whisper in her ear. Then they were in her room, her front against the mattress and his weight on her back. It was all hazy after that, most of it just a mess of limbs and chasing a release that she had never caught up with. Though Y/N usually made it clear that she hadn’t come, she was too worn out to tell George. She remembered falling asleep almost the second they were done. To say she had been underwhelmed was an understatement.

When she was done, she walked down the stairs for the kitchen. Once again, she was left stopping right in her tracks as she walked in. Harry stood by the stove, eyes on the pan in front of him where he was making eggs, a few asparagus and peppers cooking beside the two frying eggs. For a moment, she debated walking back upstairs and leaving Harry to it, but then he glanced over at the door to his right, meeting her eyes right away. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning back to his breakfast. God… Y/N wanted to set herself on fire. It’d be better than staying inside a room with Harry alone after years apart.

He wore rugby shorts that reached mid-thigh, a white tee shirt to go with it, and a hairband to keep his hair out of his face. Y/N realised just then that he was getting ready to leave for rugby as he had told her yesterday he would. She could remember him doing rugby when they knew each other three years ago as well, but she didn’t think he’d still be doing it.

The small conversation they had in The Stag’s Head the night before lingered in the air between and around them. That was reason enough to turn and walk upstairs again. But as Y/N remembered who was waiting for her in her room, she stepped into the kitchen. She got two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, getting some butter and milk out of the fridge as she waited. She watched Harry’s back as she filled the kettle with enough water, quickly looking away when he moved to put his eggs on the two slices of bread on his plate. Biting her lip, Y/N got a mug and a teabag, looking back over at Harry as he stood holding his breakfast plate. Y/N took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do.

“Okay,” she said only a second before Harry turned around to face her, mouth open as if to say something. He must have noticed the tension as well. “We need to talk this through. We can’t live together for the next year if it’s gonna be like this. Just gonna put that out there right away.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Y/N leaned her hip against the counter, feeling relieved that she was not the only one out of the two that had thought about how incredibly awkward this was. “You’ve thought about it too?”

“Of course. I’ve been fuming ‘cause Nathan didn’t tell you sooner, and I’ve also found it annoying how I’m the bad guy in your eyes when this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Nate.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I haven’t thought of you as the bad guy-“

“-Y/N,” Harry said, putting his plate down on the counter again. “You’ve been angry at me this whole time. I can tell.”

“My frustration with you has got nothing to do with this situation, but all to do with how you just left without even saying goodbye before you moved away.” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m trying to not blame you for this as well, but you’re right, Nathan’s the one that made this happen, we should be angry with him.”

“So you have been mad at me.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t it just easier, no matter how stupid the reason, to just find more things to make you angry at a person? To make you hate them even more? Isn’t it just satisfying to find other ways to be frustrated with them?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am.”

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, getting her bread slices out of the toaster to put butter on them. “Why didn’t we say anything? If we’ve both thought it’s been awkward, I mean.”

“You’ve been busy shagging men 10 years older than you, I didn’t get the chance.”

“Look at you not being frustrated or annoyed with me.”

“I told you to be quiet last night,” Harry said, getting a fork and putting some asparagus and paprika in his mouth. “You weren’t.”

Y/N got the kettle as it finished, pouring some hot water into her mug. “So, what you’re saying is that you’ve been angry with me.”

“Not angry, just…” Harry sighed. “Fine. A little angry last night, yes.”

Y/N smiled. “And he wasn’t 10 years older than me, he’s five years older.” She paused. “I think.”

“Right,” Harry said, eating more of his breakfast. “Listen…” He swallowed. “I think we should just… We should just address it.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet, looking at the other and waiting for them to say what they were both thinking. Though it looked like he was about to reach for his bread to take a bite, Harry stopped himself. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said, “It was fucking terrible. That first time…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes before he ran a hand over his face, remembering it all over again. “I didn’t even last a minute. It was mortifying.”

“It wasn’t half as mortifying as you trying to go down on me afterwards.”

Harry let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that wasn’t really…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, we were both part of it. You don’t have to apologise for that.”

“You hear all these stories about how losing your virginity is supposed to be so beautiful, but it’s not. It’s really fucking not. Especially if you lose it to someone else who hasn’t had sex before, it just makes it double as awkward.”

Y/N nodded. “It was shit. Both of us were shit.”

“Exactly.”

“But I hope you know the reason I’m frustrated with you isn’t because of that.”

Harry looked away, biting at his bottom lip before he said, “Yeah, I know why.”

“Good, just wanted that to be clear.”

Harry nodded, taking his bread slice in his hand, making sure the egg wouldn’t fall off before he brought it to his mouth. “Well, now that we’ve addressed that, let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.”

She gave him a small smile before taking her teabag out of her mug and throwing it in the bin. There was still some tension in the room, but not enough for Y/N to want to set herself on fire like she had wanted to before. Just as she was about to take a grip of her plate and cuppa, the sounds of footsteps made her look up. George, who had been asleep last time Y/N checked, walked by the kitchen, halting as he saw Y/N and Harry standing there in the kitchen. He gave them both a smile Y/N could tell was forced, and then walked straight for the door without a single word or a second glance. Y/N and Harry looked at one another, sharing a look before they both chuckled ever so slightly.

“Cracking bloke,” Harry mumbled.

“Innit,” Y/N huffed, picking up her breakfast. “Have fun at rugby practice.”

“Cheers.”

She walked by him, hoping that her room did not smell of George or anything resembling alcohol or sweat. If it did, she would hit her head against the wall. But, lucky for her, George had left the door open, which had given the room a little bit of time to get the smell of last night out. After putting on her fluffy duvet cover, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in, and left her door open as she sat down in bed with her laptop, tea, and breakfast.

Just as she was about to put her plate down on the nightstand, she noticed something already laying there on top of her books. Adjusting her glasses, Y/N squinted at the object. She put her plate down on her duvet cover and reached for the wristwatch George had left. It was the nice leather one she had seen last night by the bar, the one that had caught her attention first. The digital clock seemed to have stopped working, displaying a random time that Y/N in her hangover state could not tell anyone what was. She was too fucked to even try and understand the numbers in front of her.

She put the clock back on her desk, hoping that she’d run into George soon so she could give it back to him. Or maybe Nathan could stalk Facebook and find him so she could message him there to tell him. She was glad she hadn’t exchanged phone numbers with George as she did not want to meet him again, but right now, she wanted to give him his watch back.

Y/N heard the front door open and then close, indicating that Harry had just left for rugby, and, as far as she could tell, she was the only one currently awake in her flat. The morning was quiet, she felt oddly at peace as she put on Fleabag and sipped her cuppa, and little did she know, this would be one of those rare moments over the last three years that this emotion inhabited her body.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 7th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta reader! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGIWGOJGI PLS COME TALK !!!!

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mashedpotittiess · 4 years ago

Text

Arrangements Chp, 2

Title: Arrangements. Chapter Title: A tumble in his bed.

Pairing: Lim Sejun x Reader. Mentions of Choi Byungchan and non romantic mentions of Do Hanse, Heo Chan, Kang Seungsik, Han Seungwoo and Jun Subin as well as OC’s.

All photo, music and other rightful credits belong to their rightful owners.

Summary: He was the aggravating fuckboy roommate of your best friends but maybe that’s what caused you to agree to such an arrangement. But will the arrangement work out? Between mutual friends, his other hookups and a certain romantic interest on your part, this could all be trouble.

Words: 6,500

Rating: M, there’s smutty smut in this chapter so avert your eyeballs. Jk, well unless you want to skip the smut which by all means.

Genre for this Chapter: College! au, Angst.

I don’t have a Beta so please excuse all grammatical errors as I try to correct them as I proof read but I do miss quite a few :c

Tags/Warnings: Drinking, Mentions of sexual scenarios, mentions of possible drug use (a roofie), Mentions of someone possibly wanting to take advantage of someone (While Nothing happens I need to put this as a warning as it can trigger some past experiences readers have had). Fighting, Bruising and blood, fingering (f receiving), slight cum eating, unprotected sex (wrap it up), light choking, pussy slapping O: , some dirty talk, creampie.

Fic Inspired playlist:

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad @rose-sereniteeth @for-his-dream-xciii

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Hands clutching your cool glass of water as you brought the water beaded rim to your lips, it was suddenly snatched from your hands by an upset looking Sejun. Holding the glass in his hands, Sejun turned towards the Wide Receiver that donned a shock expression on his handsome face and Hanse came from behind Sejun side to wrap a protective arm around your shoulders.

“You look like you could use some water, take a drink” the stern words leaving Sejuns mouth caused you to furrow your eyebrows. “Um excuse me? that’s my gla- mmhf” Your voice was cut of by the fingers and palm of one of Hanses hands as he softly ‘shh’d’ you.

“Bro, i’m not sure what you’re getting at but you all just interrupted my time with this pretty lady” Liam countered, reaching out to run his fingers down your arm that had been leaning on the counter. The movement caused Hanse to pull you further away from the man and you audibly ‘humphed’ annoyed by your best friend seemingly cock-blocking you.

“The fuck man! get your own girl to talk talk to!” Liams hand was clutched in Sejun’s empty silver ring clad hand as he reached out towards you again. “Don’t touch her! I know what you did” Hanse raised his voice as he clutched you protectively and your eyebrow rose in shock at the long haired man raising his voice in such an upset manner.

Roughly pulling his hand out of Sejun’s grip Liam scoffed. “What did I do exactly?” with a smirk on his lips the footballer continued “From what I saw, your friend here was enjoying my company so scurry along”. Gesturing towards the archway of the kitchen Liam once again reached towards you and to your surprise, Sejun stepped in front of you placing his empty palm of the chest of man in front of him and shoved him backwards a step or two.

The movement caused the Wide Receiver to lunge at Sejun and the glass that had been clutched in Sejuns other hand was placed on the counter as he braced the impact of the slightly taller man. Dodging a left jab, Sejun countered with another harsh shove that caused the man to stumble backwards as his back hit the counter topped with chips near the archway of the kitchen. Pulling himself up, Liam was caught off guard by Sejun landing a solid knee to his chest.

The fight was garnering the attention of nearby partygoers and like school children, shouts of ‘fight fight fight’ and ‘fuck him up’ were heard through the small crowd of people getting closer.

Launching his body at Sejun, Liam landed a left jab to Sejuns eyebrow and caused the skin to rip open at the arch. You had been trying to pull your body from Hanses as the fight got worse than just a shoving match but Hanse had a solid grip of both of his arms around your body and your side pinned against the counter.

With a harsh sounding jab-cross from Sejuns left and right fists, Liam was sent backwards again. Before either man could land another blow, the crowd that had now doubled in size parted slightly as Heo Chan and who you knew as Seungwoo followed by Byungchan burst through the archway. The first two men wrapped their arms around either one of Liams and Byungchan stepped in front of the Grey haired man.

What looked like the rest of the frat starts doing damage control as they tried their best to ‘herd’ the tipsy partygoers away from the scene with ‘BODY SHOTS!’ on the Sorority next doors members.

“The fuck is going on?!” Seungwoo raised his voice and Liam shrugged, a ‘this guy fucking started it man’ leaving his lips and he try to launch himself yet again at the bored looking Sejun. Hanse had stepped a foot away from the counter he had you practically pinned against and you used the opportunity to push against his body with your left elbow knowing he’d release you. You had won every wrestling match the two of you had over the last mini bag of hot cheetos and you knew the only reason he had such a good hold on you while the fight was happening was because your body had been anchored against the hard counter.

As your body pulled away from Hanses grip, Sejun spoke up with a serious tone in his voice. “He tried to Roofie her, Hanse saw it.” Liams eyes went wide and he stopped his movements in trying to launch at the man in front of him. “I..No he’s fucking crazy, We were just talking and he came in swinging!” Liam shouted and Chan looked towards Seungwoo as Sejun addressed his earlier question.

“Sejuns right, he dropped a white pill in y/ns water when she was getting something from the fridge. I seriously doubt she knew what he was doing.” Liams head shook as he denied the accusation from Hanse. “He probably has more in his pockets” Sejun suggested and gestured with a jut of his chin towards Chan who’s arm was still wrapped around the man he had been fighting.

Pulling Liams plaid shirt away from his white t shirt underneath, Chan reached in as Seungwoo held Liam still and pulled a small transparent bag from the man in questions inside breast pocket. As Sejun suggested, inside the bag was two small white circular pills.

Looking down at the glass to your right that you had almost drank, you felt your stomach drop at what could have happened had your best friend and Sejun not stopped it.

“Whatever man! She wanted it! I was just helping her get comfortable! Come on, you know how girls ar-“ Before he could continue your two best friends and Sejun launched themselves at him and the two men that had been holding him pulled away disgusted by his words.

No punches could be landed as you rushed forwards and shouted “STOP” as the three men in front of you turned around seemingly confused as to why you would stop them from giving Liam what he deserved.

“y/n he wa-“ Cutting Hanse off you stepped in front of Liam and pulled your first back before landing in on his jaw. The pain radiating in your hand let you know he’d need stitches or more. Launching your body on his you landed another punch this time to his cheek. “You fucking disgusting excuse for a human!” You shouted as you landed yet another hit his face before your body was being lifted off of his.

To say Liam was in shock when you hit him was an understatement, when you launched your body onto his trapping his hands under his own weight he had still been in shock but seeing your body pulled off of his and feeling the pain radiating from his face he pulled his right hand back and in a split second landed it heavily on your cheek in something closer to an open handed punch than a slap.

Liams body was hastily pulled away from his crouching position as Seungwoo held him up by his collar against the wall. “Piece of shit, get your ass out of this house. VTN house members have never and WILL never drug anyone or harm a woman in any way. As much as I’d love to have her further kick your disgusting ass or hell I’d love to give you what you deserve, I don’t think any of us need a case. I will be letting couch James know about what happened as well as the schools President. I can guarantee your expulsion, now you have five fucking minutes to leave out that door before I rethink the possibility of catching a case.”

Releasing Liam from his hold, you all watched as Liam hobbled his way out of the kitchen and through the still there partygoers towards the front door clutching his face with a string of curses leaving his swollen and bloodied lips.

“y/n right? I’m so beyond sorry this happened. His actions were inexcusable and as the leader of this frat I assure you I will make sure justice is served and after the proper authorities are aware he will never set foot on campus grounds” With an upset tick in his jaw, Seungwoo looked you straight in the eyes with his chocolate brown ones and you knew he wouldn’t go back on what he said, you could feel his anger radiating off of his body in waves.

Nodding your head you accepted his apology that you insisted he didn’t need to make as it was not his fault. The arms that were still holding your body after pulling you off of Liam earlier loosened and you turned your body to face them. Byungchan and Sejun had both been holding you and before you could thank Sejun for what he had done, you were being pulled into a tight hold by Hanse and Byungchan, the latter apologizing for showing up to the scene late and both apologizing for not being there to prevent it from happening.

“I’m fine, I’m honestly just glad he tried to do this to me and not someone else who was here along without amazing friends to stop him. That piece of shit deserves to rot, I can’t help but think about how he probably has done this before and a woman out there went through that” With a shake of your head you felt Hanse burrow his head further into your shoulder.

“Lets get you home and cleaned up, there’s no way were letting you stay anywhere but at out apartment” Hanse said as your best friends pulled back and you swore you saw him rub at a tear in his eyes. Byungchan nodded in agreement at you staying over and you shook your head “I’ll stay but Byunnie I need you to continue to spend time with Emi tonight, I don’t want you leaving her to go take care of me. You deserve to be happy” Your heart clenched a little as he shook his head no but as you steeled your gaze and hit his shoulder telling him to get his girl he finally nodded knowing you wouldn’t stay at the apartment if he didn’t comply with your wishes.

Emi had been standing in the crowd watching as everything happened, worry over the situation causing her face to frown. Seeing Byungchan pull you in for a hug she walked forward towards your bodies wanting to express her concern for you as well but she didn’t know how to word it. “y/n i..if you want to talk i’m here. I know we don’t really know each other but I saw what happened and I’m so sorry..” With her head downturned towards her pale yellow sneaker you placed your hand on her shoulder causing her to look up at you as you felt the genuine concern in her voice. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing really happened and you don’t need to be sorry. I appreciate your offer but i think tonight i’m just going to go back and stay with Hanse. The night is still young! So enjoy time with Byungchan here okay?” you smiled and she nodded pulling you in for a slight hug which surprised you.

Pulling back, her and Byungchan walked you and Hanse to the front door. As you pulled the door open your body was encircled by a pair of arms you immediately recognized as Haleys. “What happened?! I was in the bathroom talking my roommate on how to work our new coffee pot and when I came back down I heard everyone talking about how Liam and Sejun were fighting and how you were in the middle and that Hanse had you in a chokehold!!” Laughing overtook your body at the second part and the seriousness in her voice, causing Haley to look at you like you were insane.

“Omg your cheek is swollen, y/n you have blood on the side of your lip! what the fuck?!” Pulling her arms away from you you shook your head. “I’ll tell you tomorrow okay? I just want to get out of here.”

“I’ll come with, I don’t want you alone” Leaning in to hug your friend you shook your head. “I won’t be alone, Hanse will be with me and no he didn’t have me in a chokehold. Please just stay and have fun okay? Chan is here and Byunnie is staying too. I’ll call you tomorrow” With a dejected look on her bronzed face, Haley nodded knowing how stubborn you were. With an I love you leaving her lips you bid your gorgeous friend goodbye and followed Hanse to his car.

Stepping out of the bathroom in one of Hanses plain white cotton crewneck t shirts and a too big pair of navy blue basketball shorts that you tied and folded over to fit properly, you headed to the couch that Hanse was already occupying in his pajamas.

Sitting next to him you let his left arm wrap around your shoulder and he browsed the Netflix comedy movies with the remote in his right hand. “Thank you” was all you uttered as he landed on 50 first dates knowing it would make you both smile. “I love you, don’t thank me. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with you earlier then this would have all never happened” Biting at his lip ring you knew your best friend was upset with himself and you shook your head adamantly. “Hanse, stop. You stopped Liam and were there for me when I couldn’t see what was happening. Thats all that matters” Pulling the blanket over your legs you saw him softly nod as his inky black hair bobbed slightly.

“Sese, you need to wake up and get in bed” your hands had been planted on Hanses shoulder, lightly shaking him. The movie had finished and he was snoring loudly with his neck bent slightly backwards propping him at what looked like an uncomfortable angle against the back of the couch.

“He had…co…cocococonut boobs on” Hanse mumbled about the movie in his sleep ridden state as you changed tactics, shaking him harder and flicking an ice cube at his forehead. With a jolt from the cold cube being flung against his warm forehead he sat up and opened his eyes to you standing in front of him with a glass of water in your left hand and your right settled on his shoulder.

“Why’s you do that? Sooooo cold” Pulling the blanket up to his shoulder he shivered exaggeratedly which earned a smile from you and a roll of your eyes. “I did what I had to do to wake you up so you could get to bed. Your ass was snoring hella loud and I think I see drool.”

Wiping at his mouth your best friend stood up, stretches his limbs as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulder and let out a loud yawn. Hugging you goodnight he headed to his bedroom and left you alone in the dim living room.

Scrolling though netflix you settled back against the couch cushions and clicked on the first episode of gossip girl to occupy your mind while you scrolled through instagram. Pictures of Byungchan with Emi loaded on his page and you softly sighed. You truly wanted him to be happy but it still stung and you knew it would for a little while longer.

Your thumb was scrolling upward as you mindlessly checked out posts from random people you followed when the sound of the front door being opened was heard. You knew it couldn’t have been Byungchan as he had just posted a picture of him and Emi on a couch that you assumed was Emi’s, their bodies entangled in an innocent looking cuddle. Preparing yourself for Sejun and one of his conquests to pass your form on the couch and moan the night away, you sighed deeply.

The sound of the fridge being opened was heard followed by the clinking of a glass against the countertop. Furrowing your brows you waited for the voice of a woman or possible giggle but the only sound you could hear was that of water filling a glass.

Your curiosity was piqued (by that you meant ‘your ass was nosy’) Standing up you grabbed your empty glass (so it looked like you had a reason for going to the kitchen) and walked your way to the kitchen.

Standing against the counter next to the fridge with a glass in his left hand and the pitcher of purified water in his right hand stood Sejun, his gaze snapping up towards your form as you entered.

You hadn’t gotten to thank him for doing what he did earlier and as you took in his slightly bruising cheek, his bottom lip that had been swollen and his split eyebrow that had already started healing your eyes went wide. You had seen the fight but hadn’t gotten a really good look at the grey haired mans face and the damage that Liam had done.

“I..thank you, I’m sorry” you mumbled softly as you stepped closer to the sink and placed your glass inside of the metal basin. “Why are you apologizing? You weren’t the one who hit me.” Your jaw clenched and you turned your body to face him. “You were hit because of ME! so let me apologize. If you hadn’t gotten involved you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Shaking his head he lightly laughed and sent you a dazzling dimpled smile. “I’m fine, I got into the fight on my own and I would do it again. I don’t like men who think it’s okay to violently lay a hand on women, even more so when that woman is one of my friends.” Your eyebrows shot up at his last statement. You hated half of his ‘sexcapades’ but him as a person hadn’t really don’t anything to make you fully hate him now that you thought about it. Sure he got on your nerves and had no tact, making you want to sometimes while that smirk he always donned off of his face. But you didn’t fully hate him. Friend was a bit of a stretch for you but frenemy you could maybe get behind.

“I don’t know if I would consider us friends. Maybe frenemies? or acquaintances?” You smirked and his upper lip curled up, his mouth soon resembling yours. “Fine frenemy world, makes me sound cooler anyways. Also, stop looking at me like I got the beatdown of my life, I literally didn’t even get hit that hard and Liam is worse off. I’ve been hit a-lot harder and my eyebrow is already healing. So stop worrying you pretty little head.” Huffing out a breath of air you turned to grab a wash cloth as he gestured to his eyebrow when he talked about it and as he finished what he was saying you dampened the cloth with cold water and maybe your way to stand in front of his still leaning form.

You had to admit from this close up he was significantly taller than you were. Clutching the cloth in your right hand you brought it up to his eyebrow and lightly patted in soft motions not wanting to rub and disrupt the scabbing wound.

Sejun watched your face as you worked on his eyebrow. “y/n you don’t have t-“ Your free hand came up to seal his mouth shut with your palm and you instantly regretted the action but didn’t want to pull away and show him how flustered you were by the press of his plump lips against the palm of your hand and his woodsy scent mixed with smelt like cashmere that invaded your senses as you inhaled.

Dabbing the still damp cloth against his eyebrow you kept your eyes on the hairs of his brow not wanting to look him in the eye. When the crusty rust colored blood had been fully cleaned from the closing wound you flipped the cloth around to a clean side and pressed it softly against the soft bruising of pink and red on his cheek to hopefully help the swelling subside so it hopefully wouldn’t turn into a nastier shade of deep purple and green in the morning.

“I’m surprised a woman isn’t clinging to your body right now” You joked trying to lighten the mood. “A woman is with me right now, I wouldn’t say she’s clinging but I do have one in front of me.” you felt his lips mumble against your palm and you quickly retracted your hand that you had forgotten was still there. Gulping hard you focused your attention to his cheek.

“I mean a hot chick” You tried to once against joke. A larger hand wrapped itself delicately around your wrist that held the damp towel and your gaze snapped up to meet Sejun’s grey eyes. “You are a ‘hot’ chick.”

“I..I meant like a hookup. I’m sure you had your pick of women at the party tonight..So I just surprised one isn’t with you right now…haha..maybe you already had your fill at the party, hopefully not in the bathroom cause that’s just unsanitary an-“ Sejuns free hand clamped itself over your mouth preventing your ramble of going on any longer.

“While I have hooked up in a bathroom at a party in the VTN house,” Cocking his eyebrow at your face "don’t judge me it’s the cleanest frat bathroom I’ve ever seen. I didn’t hook up at the party, I actually went upstairs with Seungwoo and played a few rounds of Fifa on his ps4. We both weren’t really in the partying mood anymore and he wanted to get started on typing out his message on Liam’s behavior and what went down tonight. Woo also wanted to make sure I didn’t ‘do anything stupid’ as he put it. Like go after Liam, as tempting as that was.”

You really don’t know what compelled you to do do what you did next. You couldn’t blame it on the alcohol you had consumed earlier as you were stone cold sober now. But something about the way his face contorted as he talked about Liam mixed with his gaze roving your slightly parted lips when he moved his palm away just made you feel a familiar tingling in your belly.

Surging forward, Sejun had just barely finished his sentence when you captured his lips in your own. A few seconds passed before you realized your face was inches from Sejuns and your lips were pressed against his. Pulling back rapidly, your eyes widened into saucers and you prepared your escape to Hanses room to hide from the man in front of you and to pretend you hadn’t just done what you did.

Before you could turn and side step away, Sejun gripped the side of your face in one of his large palms and pulled your face towards him. Looking from your eyes down to your lips you felt the heat in his gaze as he planted his mouth down onto yours.

You really didn’t know why but you found yourself reciprocating the kiss. Moving your lips against his, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as the damp cloth fell to the ground in a soft thud and you parted your lips for him as he flicked his tongue against the seam of your lips. Sejun’s free hand went to the small of your back and pressed your bodies together as he slipped his tongue into the entrance to your mouth.

Tongues fighting for dominance, you felt the kiss start to shift into a searing want that had you gripping his hair for purchase earning a low groan tumbling from his lips. Sinking his teeth into your bottom lip, his hand that had been on your cheek moved down to clutch the side of your neck.

Trailing a hand down from his neck, your nails lightly scratched against the top of his wide back under his leather jacket and shirt he had on. Fingers pressed into your lower back as his lips moved down to trail over your jaw making you tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck that he was starting to ghost his plump lips against.

You could feel the coldness of his rings against the side of your neck as his hand remained there while he kissed over the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips as his lips attached themselves over your skin, sucking in harshly causing a tingle to make its way up our spine.

Sejun let out a low groan at the whine that made its way out of your lips. Sliding both of his hands over your hips, he flipped you both around and pressed your body against the counter.

Lips attaching themselves back onto your neck, he continued to suck on different spots careful not to leave any marks. Your hand made its way down and pulled at the hem of his shirt. Slipping your fingers under the jersey material, you grazed the tips of your fingernails against his lower abs causing Sejun to pull away from the juncture of your neck.

You took in his heated gaze and kiss-swollen lips and you had to admit this man was fucking sexy. Pulling your hand from under his shirt he held it in his grip. “Y/n if you want to keep going i’m more than willing to continue, but if you want to stop let me know now before we go any further. You wen’t through something traumatic earlier and I need to make sure you not only know what you’re doing but you want to do this.” At the mention of the word trauma, his finger brushed over the slight bruising on your cheek.

You knew you should’ve stopped but you needed him and his asking of permission just solidified the fact that you weren’t making a bad decision when you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in response.

With a kiss that was increasing in fervor, Sejuns hand that wasn’t clamped over the side of your neck gripped one of your wrists and led both of your bodies towards where you knew to be his room. Lips never leaving yours even when you both tumbled through his now open door.

Hooking a foot behind him, Sejun lightly kicked his door closed careful not to make it slam. Large hands made their way under the backs of your thighs as you were hauled up and lightly tossed onto a soft bed while the larger man stood in front of the bed pulling his jacket off of his wide shoulders.

You tried your best to suppress the sound that threatened to leave your throat with a bite to you bottom lip as his fingers slipped under his t-shirt and pulled it off of his sculpted frame. Deft fingers slipped under his belt loop as he successfully loosened the prongs.

Sejuns eyes never left yours as he undressed himself. Your eyes were filled with lust and your red swollen lips that your teeth hand pressed against caused his growing bulge to twitch slightly. You looked like sex and he hadn’t even gotten started, it excited him for how you must look with that post sex haze.

Climbing his body on top of yours, a plump set of lips attached themselves to your neck once again and you arched your back as his fingers slipped under the material of Hanses loose shirt.

Fingers making their way up your abdomen towards your chest and splaying themselves between your breasts felt hot against your skin. Sitting up slightly, Sejun pulled his lips from your skin. A look asking for permission graced his features as his fingers made their way back to the bottom hem of the shirt and pulled up a tad. A nod of your head was all he needed before he pulled the cotton fabric over your head and tossed it somewhere in the dark room that was only illuminated by the city lights through his semi sheer curtains.

The cold air that greeted your skin felt like ice as his fingers plucked against the hook of your bra causing the straps to sag over your shoulders as the cups no longer sat like a second skin against your breasts.

You hadn’t even gotten to feel embarrassed before his lips attached themselves to your right nipple that had hardened from a mixture of cold air and arousal. Fingers reached towards his head as you then tugged the strands between them.

A low growl grumbled from his throat as his teeth grazed over the hardened bud and you felt your body twitch at the contact. Fingers pinched at your bud that hadn’t been between Sejuns lips and you whined at the sensation.

You could feel his hardened member against your thigh as he switched nipples, a suction like sound leaving his lips as he sucked in a harsh motion. His unoccupied hand trailed its way down to the bottoms you had on and he played with the waistband by softly snapping it against your skin causing you to pull harshly on his locks. “Tease”. Chuckling at your name calling, Sejun smirked against your chest as he popped your nipple out of his mouth and flicked his tongue over the reddening nub.

Sejuns fingers moved under the waistband and over the fabric of your wet panties and you arched into the press of his fingertips. “Someones wet”, rolling your eyes as his comment you huffed out a breath of air and before you could mumble a response, he pressed the pads of his fingers hard against your hardened nub and lightly shook them in a left to right motion.

Pulling his fingers from your bottoms, he raised your knees upwards and tugged the material of your shorts and panties down your legs. Snapping your thighs shut you shivered as the air blown from his fan landed on your wet core.

Your legs were immediately pulled apart by your ankles “I need them open babygirl”. Sejun said with a tsk and the arousal pooling in your lower belly was almost embarrassing by the simple words.

A finger trailed around your weeping hole gathering the wetness on the pad as you gasped as Sejun brought it up to his mouth. His lips puckering around the finger as his eyes closed and a low moan could be heard. Holy fuck that’s hot, you were now full on ogling him as he popped the appendage out of his mouth and trailed his tongue along the seam of his lips. Opening his eyes, his lips quirked into a smirk as he took in your expression.

The finger that had been sucked clean was brought back to your nether region. With a squelch, the long index finger slid into your entrance and you hummed at the needed intrusion. A few pumps were made before a second finger was added, your walls tightening around the appendages.

“Need to get you nice and ready” Sejun murmured as he watched his fingers go in and out of your wet hole. Your eyes snapped shut as he curled the tips of his finger upwards in a come hither motion. The pads of his fingers rubbed against the spongey flesh of your g-spot and you gripped at the pillow that had been under your head.

Moving his fingers in semi circle motions to stretch you out further, Sejun pressed his thumb lightly against your clit as you got used to the stretching intrusion.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt a glob of wetness land on your pussy and the sight of Sejun with his lips puckered as he sat up watching his fingers work themselves in and out of your heat caused you to clench hard. Your mind was fighting with wether it was nasty or unbelievable hot how his split trailed once again from between his lips and landed on your pussy. The look in his eyes as he watched it slither down your clit over his fingers and mixing with your arousal at the crack between your ass and the bed made up your mind that it was one of the hottest thing you’ve experienced.

You could feel the slight widening of your hole as his fingers splayed open slightly inside of you before another finger was added. It was an extremely tight fit but the slight sting hurt oh so good as he slowly pushed into your entrance with all three fingers. “Tell me if it hurts okay?” His voice was oddly soft as he asked but it comforted you.

You widened your legs as he pumped his fingers at a nice and slow pace making sure you keep you comfortable but still stretching you out. The soft thrumming of his thumb over your clit added to the pleasure you were feeling.

Sejuns fingers formed a cone shape inside of you as he pumped in at a faster pace after he felt your walls starting to relax. Sejuns other hand splayed over your left thigh as he kept your legs open.

The finger on your clit started to move in tight circles and your back arched as you clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you from moaning. Your hand was pulled away almost immediately and your eyes met the darkening ones of the man pleasuring you. “Ah ah, no trying to conceal your sounds. Let me hear how you feel or I’ll stop. Got it?” You really wanted to roll your eyes and mumble a sarcastic remark but stern look in his eyes as he cocked a brow and curled his finger upwards caused you to nod furiously “Yes, yes jeez! Just fuck! Don’t stop.”

Your eyes rolled back as he spat on your pussy again and used his thumb to spread the wetness over your clit. A drawn out moan left your lips as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your tight hole at a faster pace and matched his circling thumb to the rhythm.

It was becoming all too much and as you trailed your eyes down his frame to his hips now bucking against your thigh, his hardened bulge rubbing against your flesh, your body tightened and spasmed every time his fingers curved against your g-spot. “Ahh,I.. I…m going to..c..c….cum..please don’t..stop”.

“I didn’t quite catch that” Sejun slowed his pace and smirked devilishly. “Fun..fuck you! I said I’m..gonna cum!” The same stern look returned to his face as he stopped completely and slipped his fingers from your spasming core causing you to thrash your head side to side as you pleaded with him. “I’m..sorry..please don’t stop…I need to cum..please…please…fuck please.” With a smack to your pussy a grunt left his lips as he thrust his fingers back into your entrance, your back arching at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s better princess.” Sejuns fingers worked themselves in and out of you at a fast pace and he began circling hi thumb over your clit once again causing your body to convulse at the stimulation. “Fuck…shit…shit! I need.. cum…need to cum!” You moaned out as your eyebrows furrowed and shallow breathes of air puffed from your lips. “You want to cum babygirl?”

A series of ‘Yes’ left your lips and Sejun curled his fingers upwards against the spongey flesh. With a harsh press of his thumb against your clit you felt your eyes roll back as your eyelids closed over your eyes and your thighs began to shake.

A hard grip on your chin forced your eyes open and Sejun was suddenly inches from your face as he squished your cheeks between his fingers as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at an intense pace. “Open your eyes and look at me when you cum! I better not have to tell you again!” Hot breath fanned against your face as you nodded as much as you could in his hold.

A series of ‘Fucks’ could be heard in the room as your walls tightened around his fingers and the familiar snapping sensation filled your lower abdomen as your orgasm approached. The fluttered of your walls squished his fingers but Sejun wouldn’t have it any other way. The lust ridden gaze Sejun had in his eyes as you came apart with his fingers inside of you was all that you could see. A buzzing filled your ears and you felt warmth spread throughout your body as you came.

Your knees knocked together as they shook and the feeling of overstimulation against your clit became too much as you begged him to stop. It wasn’t until tears pricked at your eyes that he pulled his hand from your core and popped each finger inside of his mouth, making sure to lick them clean.

With a cock of his head, Sejun sat up. “You taste like ripe strawberries, pineapple and something heady with a hint of salt.” A look of shock riddled your features and you couldn’t help the laugh that threatened to fall from your lips. “Are you a pussy juice connoisseur or what?” You fully expected Sejun to scold you or laugh with you but his face was completely serious. “You could say that.”

“I’m saying you taste good.” A shake of your head as you giggled caused him to slightly pout. “I know what you’re saying. Just an odd way of putting it”

The feeling of Sejuns bulge against your thigh caused you to stop your laughing. Even with his pants on, he felt thick and heavy against your flesh and despite the intense orgasm you had just had you needed more, you wanted to feel him inside of you.

Sitting upwards on your knees, you placed your palms flat against his bare chest and maneuvered you both until he was sitting against the soft pillows near the headboard and you were straddling him. With a harsh press of your hands he was sent into a laying position, hovering your body over his face a sinful smirk graced your lips. “You called me a princess earlier.” A cock of your eyebrow was made as you nuzzled your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m anything BUT a princess.” Sejun could’t respond as your hand had made it’s way down his body while you spoke and when the last words left your lips you harshly palmed his length.

A grin spread over his plump lips and your wrist was suddenly gripped into a strong hold. With a determined gaze you slid your other hand down his body and popped the button of his incredibly tight pants. Surging forward you attached your lips to his neck and nibbled against the soft flesh. The smell of cologne and musk invading your senses as you lapped at his sweat slick skin.

Sliding your hand under the waistband of his briefs, your eyes bulged slightly at his size that laid heavily against your palm. Drool pooled inside of your mouth as you gulped and a deep chuckle resounded in your ears. “I told you I needed to stretch you out. Now. you’ve had your fun being on top but its time I fuck you the way you need to be fucked.” A hand weaved through your hair and pulled your face to his as your bottom lip was tugged between teeth. A wet pop was heard as the flesh smacked against your teeth and arms encircled you before turning you both around so that Sejun was seated on top of you once again.

The jingling of zippers and fabric against skin was heard as Sejun tossed his pants somewhere on the clothing littered floor. “I was only on top for like 5 minu- ungghf” Sejuns hard cock bumped against your clit and you swore you drooled as the thick head slid along your core. The drag of his hard cock felt intoxicating but you needed more, you needed to be filled.

“Fuck me already!” you growled out and Sejun tsk’d. “Demanding won’t get you anywhere sweetheart.” A slight push of his thick cock head was made against your weeping hole and you reached out to tug harshly on his thick locks. “Sejun! I’m not fuckin around! Now fuck man, just ugh just fuck me.” A harsh slap was delivered to your pussy and you swore at the contact.

“Ask nicely y/n, or my cock won’t fill you up.” It was a low warning but you ceased your brattiness if it meant getting to finally be filled. “Fine! Please, I need to be fucked. Please just film up alrea-“ You were cut off by the sliding of his cock head into your entrance, Fuck, he was just a few inches in but it was already a stretch.

Fingers brushed against the soft skin of your abdomen as he slid inside slowly before ceasing any movement. “Is this okay?” It was a simple question but the juxtaposition from his stern nature a few minutes prior had momentarily shocked you. Clearing your throat “Yeah, I can take it” You weren’t lying, sure it was a stretch and you could feel the sting but it wasn’t anything uncomfortable.

Placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, Sejun leaned forward slowly sliding all the way in until his blunt head felt like it bumped your cervix and your fingers curled into the sheets at the incredibly tight fit. “Fuck y/n, so fuckin tight.” Sejuns head was thrown back and his long neck was on full display above you.

Arching upwards, your lips attached themselves onto the juncture of his neck and he growled out at the feeling as your lips worked over his flesh. Fingers curling into his silky hair and over his shoulder you couldn’t say you’ve ever felt so full in your life.

A sharp snap of his hips was felt before he leaned backwards on his haunches and snapped forwards once again. The way your hole sucked his cock in was an intoxicating sight and Sejun groaned at the squelching noises your wet pussy made.

A nice rhythm was started as his thrusts were deliberately timed and every snap of his hips meant a flood of sensations for you. He filled you up and every slide of his cock was felt against your ridges as he snugly bottomed out inside of you. “Harder” The pace was great but you knew he could do much more and you wanted to feel everything he could give you.

An eyebrow quirked at your demand and Sejun smirked “Harder? Princess” The last word was punctuated bu a particularly hard thrust and you tugged harshly against his scalp. “Don’t. Call me. Princess” With each word you tugged at the strands and he growled at the sensation, taking your wrist between his fingers before slamming both of your wrists against the bed on either side of your head.

“Y/n you’re being bad.” The words tumbled from his lips in a low growl and your eyelids fluttered closed at the way it made you feel. With your wrists in his grip, he snapped his hips harshly as his cock filled you up nice and deep.

A harsher pace was set and each drag of his cock set your insides alight with new sensation, the way he leaned over you caused his pubic bone to drag over your clit with each thrust. Wrapping your legs around his lower back, your hips met Sejuns for every harsh thrust and pull.

Whatever stinging you had previously felt was replaced with nothing but pleasure as he went faster with every pump of his member. “More” Your legs were suddenly pulled up by your knees until your ankles were hovering in the air by your head. You felt like a pretzel and the stretch on your body hurt but the way Sejun managed to somehow get deeper inside of your tight cunt made it worth it. You were practically bent in half as his large palms pressed down on the flesh in the middle of the backs of your knees and ass.

“That all you got Sej..Sejunniee” Your harsh breaths made you stutter but you managed to still pull your face into a mocking look as the saccharine tone seeped from your lips. A sudden harsh smack against the underside of your ass cheek sounded through the room and the stinging flesh caused your neck to arch back into the pillows. “Be careful what you wish for Y/n.”

Another smack was delivered, this time to your ass cheek before Sejun bottomed out inside of you. Knees dipping into the bed, Sejun leaned forward with his palms on he backs of your legs as he set a brutal series of thrusts. The sensation of thick cock dragging against your walls until just the tip was inside before slamming back into your core was drool worthy.

Low groans left his lips and you dug your nails into his shoulder as you whined, begging for more. More of what? you didn’t quite know but more seemed to be the only word you could utter as his flesh dragged against yours.

Snapping your eyes open, the sound of the front door closing rather harshly was heard and you knew it had to have been a clumsy Byungchan. Fear set into your features and Sejun placed a finger over your lips. “It’s okay, Byungchan won’t come in, he most likely thinks I’m with a girl anyways. Relax Y/n.” The words were said in a soft whisper against your ear and while you knew they were the truth you still feared being caught. But something in the way Sejun’s cock bumped against your g-spot as he thrust and the way you were still feeling that stinging heartache of your one sided crush being happy with his crush made you nod.

“You can use me right now to help get over how you feel about Chan and Emi if you want.” The statement surprised you but you trailed your nails down his back as he delivered a hard thrust. “Fuck me” It wasn’t a harsh demand, more of a plea whispered into his ear. Pulling back from your ear, Sejun nodded in understanding.

A sharp move of his hips delivered a song thrust that you swore you could feel against your cervix and you cried out. “Louder princess.” Sejun smirked knowing the pet name would get to you but in an almost sick way you relished in the thought of Byungchan possibly hearing you. There’s no way he would know it’s you as you most likely sounded mumbled and different between the layers of walls separating Sejuns room from his own but it’s like part of you wanted to be like “this is what you’re missing” even though he hadn’t even been aware of your affections.

A loud whine left your lips as Sejun fucked himself into you and you scratched your nails down his back. You had earlier seen the faded pink marks on his back and while you both were careful not to leave marks with mouths in an unspoken rule you figured your nails on his back would be fine as he already had some from his plethora on conquests.

“Fuck how are you still so tight!” Sejun moaned out and a gush of arousal was felt between your legs at his normally softer voice being so deep and assertive. “Maybe you aren’t going hard enough” You barked in respond and the smirk that had made its way onto your lips was replaced with a small ‘o’ as Sejun snapped a hand up your body to clamp around the curvature of your neck. His grip wasn’t hard enough to fully choke you but the feeling of less air flow caused a tingling to be set throughout your body.

Fast thrusts caused the room to sound in skin slapping and wet squelches. The headboard banging against the wall as he drove his hips against yours cause your body you rattle. “Fuck Sejun!”

“Yeah? Is that hard enough for you? Or do you want more. Know what, i’m not giving you a choice, you’re getting more.” Large palms pulled your ass tightly against him and his balls slapped against your skin. The hand that was around your neck tightened its hold every few seconds before releasing causing a rush of air to fill your head. The hand that had pulled your ass up now lay flat against your abdomen pushing your body down onto the bed.

Your cervix was being battered by his hard cock head and a trail of drool leaked from the side of your mouth as you were being fucked ‘stupid’ “Shit!shit! I’m..cu..cu..gonna..cum” You stuttered as you felt your walls fluttering around his hard cock.

A harsh slap was delivered to your clit as Sejun spit a thick globule onto your cunt and you lost it, the pure dirtiness from the action caused your abdomen to clench and lust clouded your vision. “FUCK! Se…sej….omg..omg I’m…fuck yes!” Your legs began to shake as Sejun pressed his thumb against the hollow of your throat and your eyes struggled to stay open from the extract you were being thrown in but you couldn’t risk closing them and him stopping his actions as he had said he would earlier.

“Cum in..inside, I’m on the pill” You mumbled out feeling his cock twitch inside of you. The thought of a condom had slipped both of your minds earlier in the night and you knew you’d kick yourself about it later, for now you needed to cum.

“Fuck y/- babygirl! Cum all over my cock!” Your name almost slipped from his lips but Sejun effectively covered it up in case either of your friends had been awake. A coil felt like it had snapped and a loud growl left Sejuns lips as you clenched hard around his cock. “Oh my!omg! FUCK I..fuck. I’m cumming.” A flood of arousal gushed from your core as your body shook and your toes curled.

“Fuck yeah! Soak my cock! Sejun fucked his cock into you before halting suddenly. A loud moan escaped his throat as ropes of cum painted your inner walls with his seed. Your orgasm continued as he filled you to the brim and you cried out as his hand left your neck in favor of filling your mouth with his thick thumb. You sucked on the appendage as your body shook in overstimulation.

With a few shallow thrusts of his cock, Sejun’s could feel the last spurts of milky white leave his member. Softly pulling himself from your warm cavern, Sejun watched as a flood of white leaked from your core and he couldn’t help the low groan leave his lips at the mess you had made. The sheets were soaked from you squirting and the pool of cum that sat along the seam of your ass and the bed was enough to cause his softening cock to twitch alive again.

Taking in your fucked out state, Sejun willed himself to calm down as he really didn’t think you could take another round right now.

Sitting up with a huff leaving your lip your eyes widened as you took in the sight between your splayed out legs. “Holy..fuck.” Sejun who was seated in front of your legs smirked “That was so fucking hot.” With a shake of your head you looked at him incredulously. You had only squirted twice prior and both were from a long masturbation session where you overstimulated yourself with your favorite vibrator after a month of no cumming as a stupid self challenge.

Sejun pulled you up to a standing position before propping you onto his desk chair. “I’m just gonna change the sheets real quick.” Your legs felt like jelly but you knew you couldn’t stay in his room. His conquests rarely stayed the night, you knew that and you didn’t trust yourself to wake up and leave his bed before your friends awoke from their own slumber so you did the only thing that made sense. You stood up on your own as he finished changing the sheets and smoothed his palm over his comforter that had been in a heap on the floor during your ‘activities’. Finding your panties on the floor with Hanses bottoms your nose scrunched at the damp materiel.

Sejun’s eyes met you form as you debated on whether to wear the shorts with or sans panties. The sound of a drawer being opened was heard and a pair of briefs and a wet wipe were being held out towards you. “Here, I don’t think soaking panties are comfortable to wear and I know you probably don’t want to wear Hanses shorts without anything under.”

“Thank you.” After cleaning yourself up you threw the fabric away in the waste bin by his desk. The fabric of the briefs was quite soft, Why are mens underwear so fucking comfortable?. With a snap of your bra you then pulled the loose cotton shirt over your form despite your now aching muscles.

“I know you’re going to go sleep on the couch so nobody gets suspicious but know I couldn’t kick you out from my room in the middle of the night. That’d make me a shitty friend and I fancy myself not only a good fuck but a gentleman of sorts” Sejun smiled that genuine smile that accentuates his deep set dimples, your head shook side to side at how unfair it was that he looked like some sort of deity after that sex session and you most likely looked a mess.

“Thanks..I appreciate that haha.” You awkwardly laughed and Sejun shook his head. “Hey don’t be embarrassed or anything. We fucked and we can either talk about it or not talk about it whatever you want.” You really did appreciate how he was trying to make things less awkward as he sat on his bed in his clean briefs but you couldn’t talk about it right now. Too many thoughts were swirling in your brain and all you wanted to do was pass out on the couch you knew all too well.

With a fake yawn escaping your lips you waved at him before making your way to his door. “I’m actually super tired so I’m just going to head to bed.” Checking to make sure the coast was clear you slipped from his room and softly reciprocated the goodnight he called out.

The kitchen light had still been on from earlier and you noticed Byungchans shoes strewn across the floor and accompanied with how loud he had been entering the shared apartment you could bet he was probably quite tipsy which you thanked God for as drunk Byungchan was less likely to miss your supposed sleeping form on the couch.

A quick trip to the restroom, a flick of the kitchen lights and you were finally settled on the couch cushions with a soft blanket curled around your body. Pushing your questioning thoughts and oddly enough lack of regret to the back of your brain, you closed your eyes and let your now aching muscles lead you into a hopefully deep sleep.

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Whether you found this smut cringe worthy or actually not THAAAT bad, I appreciate you for reading this chapter and sticking with me <3

#sejun x reader #sejun smut #lim sejun smut #victon smut #sejun scenarios #victon fic #e2l #victon x reader #Lim Sejun #sejun

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lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

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When Stars Ignite - Chapter 14

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Katriona Cassopeia (in mention) belongs to the gorgeous @kc-and-oc

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning:

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Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea @thatravenpuffwitch

Man, we were killin' time We were young and restless We needed to unwind I guess nothin' can last forever Forever, no… ~ Bryan Adams - Summer of ‘69 ~

Much to his relief, Orion’s fear of having been discovered seemed to prove unwarranted. Skye was a direct person, never shy to speak her mind; if she had truly seen something not meant for her eyes during the interview, Orion was sure she’d have already come and spoken to either of them.

But nothing of the sort had happened. She had acted just like she always did and his first surge of worry had died down again. Sometimes even the most focused mind was prone to being tricked and, as he had to admit to himself, focus was something he found himself lacking in these days.

It wasn’t only because of Lizzie’s teasing getting riskier that he found his mind wandering more often than not. Ever since the show they were meant to be playing for the children from the foster system had shown its face on the horizon, an ever present restlessness had been growing in Orion.

Dreams that he had pushed to the edges of his mind a long time ago had started haunting him again; they kept coming back whenever they held an event stirring the buried memories of his childhood. He loved seeing the light in the children’s faces when they were spending time with them; he knew it was a rare sight, after all. The emotional mess Orion carried back with him afterwards was the dark side of the coin, however.

The charity event was scheduled for the next day; they were to play a small acoustic set for the children in the afternoon and their regular show only a few hours later on top. To keep their spirits high before the double load, Ethan had scheduled a day off for them.

The weather was still uncharacteristically hot and so most of the band and crew had found themselves at the small pool on the rooftop of their hotel. Much to everyone’s surprise, even Artemis had joined them.

Charlie had followed Skye’s advice to take Artemis for drinks a few days prior. He had been unusually tight-lipped about it when they had asked him how it had gone down.

“It was good,” he had shrugged, “told you she’s not as bad as you all think.”

While the young pyro tech still kept her distance from the rest of them, Orion had seen her chatting with Charlie outside of their work on stage since then. He was glad she seemed to be taking a step into the right direction, lowering her armour even for the tiniest bit.

But Artemis’ tentative attempts at integrating herself with their group lounging by the pool were counteracted as soon as she took her shirt off. Everett audibly wolf-whistled at her black bikini with surprisingly colourful patterns crisscrossing it. Her withering glare was met with a lewd grin as Artemis picked up her stuff and dumped it on the deckchair farthest away from them.

Lizzie gave Everett a smack on the back of his head. “Well done, Ev, you’ve scared her away. I wanted to have a chat with her.”

Everett looked at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “I’m not stopping you. Two beauties in bikinis getting close? Who would I be to object? You could rub her back with sunscreen.”

He laughed to himself. “If Artemis isn’t up for it, I’m always here for you, gorgeous.”

A hint of the same irritation Orion felt flickered over Lizzie’s face. “You’re a real mood today.”

She got up from her own deckchair and started over in Artemis’ direction anyway, but was stopped by Charlie catching onto her wrist.

“Woah, where are you going, little rockstar?”

“Go and talk to Artemis, see if I can convince her to come over if Ev shuts up.” She gave the singer lounging in his chair a dark look.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Charlie said and pulled her down next to him. “Trust me, if you push her you’ll be the one scaring her away. She’ll come over if she wants to.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to object but Charlie shook his head. “You can’t force her, sunshine.”

“Fine,” Lizzie snorted, not pleased by the situation, “so what’re we gonna do now?” She nodded in the direction of the pool. “Anyone up for a round of water polo?”

Everett declined, preferring to seek a better place to tan, while Merula did the opposite and withdrew to the shade with a book. So it was Charlie, Lizzie, Andre and Skye who made their way to the water. Orion would have joined them, but he was preoccupied with some ideas that had been floating around in his head since that morning; he wanted to write them down before he’d forget them.

He was lying on his stomach on his deckchair, notebook open in front of him, but found it hard to concentrate. The match of water polo going on in the pool had turned into some kind of wrestling match, like it always did eventually. Lizzie and Skye were sitting on Charlie’s and Andre’s shoulders respectively, trying to knock the other into the water; a lot of giggling and shouting was involved as they fought for the upper hand.

What really distracted him though, was the way the sunlight was refracting in the water droplets on Lizzie’s skin when she moved. It let her slender body shimmer, her tan she always got so quickly in the summer months a beautiful contrast to the vibrant red of her bikini. Her wet hair looked a lot darker than it actually was and it was clinging to her back.

Skye almost managed to knock her off Charlie’s shoulder and Lizzie laughed as she righted herself again. It was the kind of laugh that made her stand out amongst all the others, bright and captivating. It gave her an aura that was impossible to escape, drawing eyes whenever she entered a scene. She had the ability to light up a whole room with her smile, as fresh and beautiful as a sunrise.

“I’d say I’m 95.9 % sure what you’re staring at, my friend,” Orion suddenly heard the voice of Murphy next to him, “or should I rather say who?”

Orion tried not to let his surprise show; he had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard his best friend approach. “Your meaning is obscure to me,” he answered evasively. “I’m simply trying to work here.”

Murphy couldn’t hide his smirk. “When you’re working, your attention is usually 87.5 % focused on your work, more if no one is distracting you. Four out of five times you don’t even react when spoken to.” He glanced down at the mostly blank page of Orion’s notebook. “Today I’d say your focus is reduced to abysmal 30.9 %.” Never missing a detail, his eyes flicked to the still on-going wrestling match in the pool.

With a sigh, Orion closed his notebook and rested his head on his arms. Murphy was far too observant to be lied to, but he didn’t have to know all the details either.

He indicated their laughing friends with a slight nod of his head. “It is good that our friends are having a great time, it strengthens their bond of friendship. But they are making a lot of noise, it’s bound to draw attention.”

The dismissive sound Murphy was making clearly showed that he wasn’t buying it. “It’s obvious they’re distracting you. But from what I’ve seen, 95.5 % of the time you’ve spent looking at them were devoted to one of the pairs, and while I do have to admit that Andre’s new gold bangles are surprisingly flashy and apparently water resistant, I highly doubt it was him that drew your attention, same goes for Skye, although her hair usually is an eye catcher, I’ll give you that. That leaves Charlie and dear Lizzie, and last time I checked, you weren’t one for redheads, that’s more my thing. Not that I want to say I find Charlie particularly attractive, although some might say so, but I digress. So only one option remains, and as the one and only master of logical deductions, the great Sherlock Holmes, once said, ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable…”

“...must be the truth’,” Orion finished with a sigh. “I know the quote. You're quoting numbers all day every day, do you really feel the need to go into literature as well now?"

Ignoring him, Murphy was grinning from ear to ear, clearly satisfied with his conclusions. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Orion wasn’t answering immediately; he didn’t like Murphy’s prying at all. “Are you done, Detective McNully?”

“Fine, don’t answer me then, I don’t need confirmation,” Murphy snorted. “The stats never lie, my friend.”

Orion rolled his eyes, hoping Murphy wouldn’t delve into another one of his statistical sprees. Although he was right in that his numbers were seldom wrong, Orion himself preferred a more open-minded view of his surroundings to Murphy’s cold, analytical observations; especially, if these observations were directed at his own behaviour.

But of course, Murphy wasn’t deterred. “To the attentive observer, which of course you know that I am, all the facts are there. Eight out of ten times your mood changes for the better when Lizzie enters the room. Seven out of ten times she starts smiling when she looks at you. You two look at each other during shows and soundtracks 46.4 % more often than at the others and yes, I factored out the times when you need to because of the cues she’s giving you, thanks a lot for asking. You hug each other at the end of the shows significantly longer as well. When you leave the backstage area, you’re never leaving together but almost always in close succession.”

The blond sound technician crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Are you really sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”

Orion was more than a little shocked at all the facts Murphy had just thrown at him. “I had no idea it was that obvious.”

Murphy shrugged, a sly smile appearing on his face. “Only to me. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and my above average observational skills, which of course not everyone possesses, solved 82.3 % of the mystery.”

“What’s with the rest?”

“What I can offer in facts, I sometimes lack in interpreting. Katriona connected the dots.”

“Obviously,” Orion sighed.

“So, what’s the deal with you two? Are you dating?” A frown appeared on Murphy’s face. “I thought you had a clause about this in your contracts. Ethan’s not going to like this.”

Orion vehemently shook his head. “No, you got that wrong. We’re not dating, everything is just like it has always been. We’re just enjoying additional pastimes, which - I’ll give you that - may exceed a regular friendship.”

He looked at Murphy intently. “No one besides you knows about this, and I would appreciate it if it stayed that way.”

Murphy made a non-committal sound. “Of course this doesn’t include Katriona.”

“As if any of us could keep a secret from her.”

“I normally don’t go for absolutes but that’s 100 % true,” Murphy laughed. He looked at Orion curiously. “So how long has this thing between you and Lizzie been going on now?”

“A while,” Orion answered evasively.

“The definition of ‘a while’ ranges from two weeks to up to a year. Judging by my numbers, it’s definitely not the former. Doesn’t sound like a short lived fling to me.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fling,” Orion said; it was surprisingly hard to put what was going on between them into words. “But we’re definitely not emotionally involved with each other. It’s not a matter of the heart, more of a physical extension built on the base of our friendship.”

Murphy leaned back into his wheelchair and grinned. “The old classic, friends with benefits.”

“If that’s the label you want to stick on it.”

Murphy hummed in response, following Orion’s gaze to the pool again. His voice was quieter when he spoke this time. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? We are both on the same page about it.”

“Just saying, things like these seldomly work out as well as they start. Approximately 89.6 % of physical relationships end in chaos, tears or both.”

The memory of his own initial worry emerged in the back of Orion’s mind. He watched as Skye gave Lizzie a final push that sent her toppling from Charlie’s shoulders. She shrieked before she crashed into the water, but was already laughing again when she resurfaced; Orion firmly pushed his concerns away.

“It won’t escalate with us,” he said. “Both of us value our friendship, and the fate of Equinox even more so. We’ve established very clear rules. I appreciate your worries, but they are misplaced.”

“As much as I love rules for the structure they’re bringing, rules can easily be broken,” Murphy said. “Just be careful, okay? Mixing friendship with sex can be a lot of fun but the devil’s in the detail.”

They both watched Lizzie climbing out of the pool and heading over into their direction. When she passed Everett, he pulled down his sunglasses and watched after her, his eyes very slowly travelling up and down her body. He said something to her Orion couldn’t hear, but Lizzie only rolled her eyes, shot something back and continued on her way. Murphy's eyes flicked from her to Orion.

“Aren’t you bothered with Ev hitting on her?”

Orion shrugged. “Why would I? She’s not my girlfriend, and she can perfectly handle herself, as you’ve just seen.”

“That she undoubtedly can,” Murphy laughed, “I’ll better be off now and leave you two alone. I wonder where my beautiful wife is. I haven’t seen her in quite a while now.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #orion amari #murphy mcnully #lizzie jameson #lizion #rockstar au #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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cryinginthebackseat · 4 years ago

Text

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

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Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

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Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with.

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Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.��

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

fin.

Tag list: @villain-fuckarooni @beckaroo @arfeiniel @this-person-is-busy @colossalpainintheass @drethanramslay @hatescapsicum @theeccentricbibliophile

#playchoices #open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #open heart mc #oh mc #pixelberry #choices stories you play

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childrenofthenightt · 4 years ago

Text

only the black rose (chapter 6)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: jimmy page’s stubbornness (and his stressy hands), exposing jpj as the mom friend, fluff

words: 3.4k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: so this one was fun, but we’re getting into the nitty-gritty of this fic :)) hope you enjoy, and please if you have any feedback it would be much appreciated!

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

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“Mr. Page, you must be extremely careful when taking these,” Dr. Vane lectures, shaking a bottle of pills. “They should help with the pain, but they are very strong.”

Jimmy sits on the side of his hospital bed, hunched over like a young child being lectured for their misbehaviour. His hands are balled into fists, though the injured finger is coiled much looser. In the corner of the small, sterile room, Robert and Bonzo glance at each other, noticing the way Jimmy grits his teeth, curling and uncurling his hands on his lap. He wants out of here, and fast: that’s plain to see.

“Doc, is Jimmy free to go?” Bonzo breaks the fragile silence that had settled over the group, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against.

“The anaesthetic has mostly worn off, so he should be good to go when he’s ready,” Dr. Vane turns to Jimmy then, mouth a serious, somber line. “Mr. Page—”

“Please, call me Jimmy.”

“Jimmy, I recommend taking a pill from the bottle we’ve supplied you, very soon. The pain should come back, due to the anaesthetics being out of your system. These are codeine tablets, and like I said before, they are very strong…”

Jimmy tunes out most of the doctor’s words from that point on, too preoccupied with thoughts of the upcoming tour. He knows Jonesy would memorize whatever the good doctor says anyways, the mother hen. Jimmy didn’t realize he had been shaking with anxiety until a cold hand lay across his, pinning it to the bed. He looks beside him, and on the bed sits Layla, brown ringlets a mess from their lie-down in the hospital bed. Jimmy stares back, enchanted by the woman in front of him, as he always is when she’s near. Still holding his gaze, Layla smiles, a question clear in her doe eyes.

“Are you okay, Jim?” she whispers, drawing nonsensical patterns on the back of his hand. He nods, flattened curls bobbing with the movement. Layla isn’t fully convinced, but she lets it go, vowing to keep an eye on the man. Bringing her attention back to Dr. Vane, Layla asks the question on everybody’s lips.

“Dr. Vane, I heard you talking to Peter about this last night… Do we know for sure if he can play or not?”

Silence falls once again like a cloud over the group, as the doctor taps his chin in thought. The mighty Led Zeppelin wait with bated breath to hear the fate of their guitarist.

“I would…” Dr. Vane clears his throat, face apologetic as he glances around the room. “I would advise against it. Ultimately it is not up to me, of course. I can’t make you do anything, but Jimmy, you need to recuperate.”

The room feels as though all the energy had been sucked right out of it, as Jimmy fiddles with a loose thread on the hospital gown he was wearing, disheveled locks obscuring his handsome face as he looks down at his socked feet. Jonesy looks on with pinched features, concerned for the man, while Robert and Bonzo sigh, sharing another wordless glance. Things just got a lot more complicated, it said. Peter sends Jimmy a smile dripping with sympathy, and walks out the door, no doubt to make some important calls.

“Why don’t we all step out of the room, so Jimmy here can get dressed?” Dr. Vane suggests, and the group files out slowly. Layla stands up to follow, stopping in her tracks almost immediately. She turns around then, meeting Jimmy’s sad eyes, gleaming like a diamond in the morning sun, and walks towards him.

“Petal, I don’t…” Jimmy mutters, trailing off, dark curls a veil, hiding him from the world once again. Layla stops in front of him and tips his head up, a familiar hand on his chin. She runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back to see the man’s face. There are stress lines on his forehead, and his eyes are glassy with unshed tears, shining in the artificial hospital light. He looks as beautiful as he always does, to Layla. Jimmy’s lips quirk up subtly in the semblance of a grin, and he presses a kiss to the woman’s wrist.

“You’ll be okay. I believe in you, and you’ll get through this.”

“How can you be so—”

Layla leans down, face to face with the man, and swallows his words with a chaste press of her lips to his. It wasn’t a particularly heavy kiss; their lips moving together softly, but it meant more than either would ever know. It was a kiss of comfort. Finally pulling away, Layla places a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and squeezes lightly, before turning on her heel and walking out the door, leaving the man to get dressed.

Stepping out of the room, she is met with serious faces and whispered discussions of the injured guitarist. Robert and Bonzo are against the far wall, chatting quietly, while Peter, further down the hall, is using the hospital phone, no doubt to see what can be done about the tour. Layla turns her head, and sees Jonesy, who looks up as she nears him.

“Hey, Layla. How are you holding up?”

“I’m not the one with a fractured finger.” Layla snaps, immediately regretting it. She opens her mouth to speak, but Jonesy beats her to it.

“No, you’re not,” The bassist puts a hand on her arm, smiling wryly. “But you care about him. Just because he’s hurting, doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to.”

“Jonesy, I… I’m sorry for snapping at you, I’m just—”

“You’re concerned, and that’s okay. Don’t worry, I get it.”

“But I snapped at you, and you didn’t deserve it, in any way.”

“Layla,” Jonesy presses closer to her as he says this, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I know you didn’t mean it. We’re okay.”

Layla looks up at the man, a hint of skepticism apparent on her face. Not believing that he forgave her so easily, so completely, she presses on further.

“Jonesy, how can you be fine with—”

“Look, Layla,” Jonesy chuckles, looking down at her fondly, much to her confusion. “We can talk about your guilt complex later if you need, but I think there’s someone you might want to see.”

“Guilt complex? I don’t—”

Layla spins around as a soft click echoes off the walls, and spots Jimmy, who shyly closes the door to his room. Dressed in a pair of dark flared jeans and a crisp white button up, a black suede coat folded over his arm, he looks sheepish as he walks towards the group, shoulders almost up to his ears. Peter, noticing the entrance of his guitarist, hangs up the phone with a hasty goodbye, turning to face the band.

“Right. Now, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Peter starts, biting back a sigh. “Let’s all ride back to Swan Song, and go over our options.”

After a short car ride devoid of any chatter, the group finally walk through the double doors of the building, faces drawn and severe. Evelyn, at her post by the front desk, notices the lack of chatter and giggles that usually fill the room whenever the band enters. Finding Layla’s eyes, she reads the worry and concern in them, and lets her smile fall, snuffing out the light that always seems to surround the receptionist. Evelyn walks up to the young woman, placing a hand on Layla’s arm as she turns around to face the receptionist.

“Is everything okay, darling?” Evelyn asks, confusion in her hazel eyes as she stares at the retreating backs of Peter and the boys.

“I hope so,” Layla replies, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of her neck. “There was… an accident, and everything's a little up in the air. I’m sorry, Evelyn, I wish I could stay and chat, but—”

“Oh no, go ahead, darling. Go figure things out.”

With a grateful smile and a nod, Layla rushes to catch up with the group, slipping into the room behind Robert, the mahogany door shutting behind them to prevent prying eyes.

----------

Standing stock-still in Peter’s office, Layla glances around the luxurious office, taking in the grim faces of her companions. A soft cough echoes off the walls, courtesy of Robert, Layla guesses, if his guilty expression and the hand pressed to his mouth are anything to go by. All eyes are downcast, as hands fold over each other to distract from the silence pressing down on them. It feels like the walls are closing in on them ever-so-slowly, set to suffocate them, until Peter, sitting at the large wooden desk, clears his throat, clapping his hands together. Attention firmly on him, Peter begins to speak, his often kind voice determined.

“I’ve been calling around, and it seems as though we have two options: we postpone the tour for a later date, so Jimmy can heal… Or we continue with the tour as planned,” Peter explains, shifting his gaze to Jimmy now. “Jimmy, how is the finger feeling?”

“It’s good, I took some pain meds earlier. I can tour still.”

“Jim, you haven’t played on it yet.”

“It’ll hold up. I’m fine.”

There’s movement in the corner, as Bonzo crosses his arms over his chest, green eyes soft as he glances at Jimmy.

“Jimmy, I really don’t know if this is the best idea.” This is met by a look of betrayal, Jimmy turning around in his seat to face the drummer.

“Bonzo, I really am fine.”

“Look,” Bonzo presses on, meeting the guitarist’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to let anyone down. The thing is, you wouldn't be in the first place, Pagey. If this injury gets worse, because you played when you shouldn't have…” Bonzo trails off, averting his gaze now, Jimmy’s eyes on him too much to bear.

“Bonzo’s right, Jim,” comes from beside Layla, as Jonesy pushes off the wall to make his point. “Taking some time off would be good, we don’t want to make anything worse.”

“Nearly 18 months is enough time off, Jonesy. Any longer and the fans won’t even remember who Led Zeppelin is. I’m ready.”

“Jimmy, really—” Robert’s reply is cut off by the guitarist’s normally soft voice, hardened with frustration.

“Shows have already been sold out. All the arrangements have been made. Peter, call them back. We’re doing this tour.”

“Pagey… Alright. I’ll call them back, if you’re sure.”

“I am.” This is followed by the scrape of the chair he had pulled up to the desk against the floor, as he stands, and storms out. The remaining occupants of the room lock eyes, panic apparent.

“I’ll go after him.” Layla murmurs, starting towards the door. She knew exactly where she would find him, after all. Easily finding her way through the hallways of the massive building, she opens the door to the studio, spotting him slumped on the drum riser. Guitar in hand, he raises the bruised finger in the air, grip on the fretboard bordering on awkward. Jimmy strums, letting out a wince as the pain rears once again. A grunt full of frustration grinds out past his lips, and he tries again.

“Are you supposed to be doing that? Doctor’s orders, and all.”

Jimmy lifts his head to glance at her, and, with the hint of a sneer at the sarcastic comment, he resumes his playing. Layla huffs, and moves closer, taking in the man before her. His dark hair is falling into his face, casting shadows upon it, and his jaw is clenched, ready to snap as he misses yet another note. Jimmy lets out another frustrated sound, and swipes the hair out of his eyes, as if that was exactly what was messing him up.

Layla takes a seat on the drum riser next to him, and watches, as he fumbles a note she’s seen him perfect many times. Before he can adjust his grip on the fretboard to try again, Layla places a hand on the man’s strumming hand, and keeps it there. Jimmy looks up at her, a glint of determination in his mossy green eyes, brown in the lighting of the studio. His hair shines, jet black curls messy, as though he’s been running his hands through it more often than not. Eyes dropping to his guitar in embarrassment, he opens his mouth to speak, Layla beating him to it in the end.

“Jim, it won’t get better if you keep straining it like this. You know that.”

“Are you here to tell me to give it a rest too? Cause if you are, you might as well just—”

“I’m here,” Layla starts, shaking her head at the stubborn nature of the guitarist. “Because I trust you. You’re the only one that knows how you feel, and I trust you.”

“You do?” Jimmy says, looking up in confusion.

“I do, angel. If you think you’re ready, then I’ll trust that,” Jimmy takes his good hand off the guitar and threads it through hers, caressing the back of it with his thumb in thanks. Layla looks down at their joined hands, and continues. “If you’re rushing this for the fans, though, or because of whatever crazy scenario you’ve thought up in that brain of yours, I think I’m allowed to say I told you so.” The couple smirk at each other, as Jimmy gives the hand in his a warning squeeze.

“Okay, mum.”

Layla unlinks their hands to give him a soft shove to the side, the beginnings of a smile tilting her lips upward. Gripping his arm, she hoists him up to a standing position, and he goes willingly. Jimmy places his guitar carefully back in its rightful place, and stretches out a hand for Layla to take. Walking out of the studio together, hope settles over them like a well-worn blanket.

Hope that everything will be okay.

----------

“Please, just don’t push too hard. You’ve got this, angel.”

After dedicating just under a week to perfecting a new guitar technique, and making adjustments to the original setlist, the band waits in the dressing room of the Metropolitan Sports Center, native to Bloomington Minnesota. Layla’s palm raises, stopping to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, as he looks down at her, his furrowed eyebrows betraying the picture of calm he was trying to emulate. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, and pulls her to his chest, arms wrapping themselves around her back.

“You can do this. Just remember that, okay?” This is followed by a nod from the dark-haired guitarist, as he smiles gratefully at Layla. A chorus of groans sound from behind them, and, turning around, they are met by the exasperated faces of the others. Already dressed in their stage clothes, they look ready to perform.

“Are you lovebirds done? Bloody saps,” Robert grumbles, the corner of his lip raising in a smirk, the playfulness in his tone obvious. “We’ve got a show to play.”

Following the boys backstage, Layla watches as they slip past the velvet curtain and onto the stage, ecstatic and powerful under the bright lights around them. They pick up their instruments, and with a collective breath and a look shared between them, the band does what they do best: play. The boys launch in, and Layla can’t help but be brought back to the last concert she witnessed. The atmosphere and the enthusiasm amongst the crowd was infectious, and Layla smiles as she looks out from the wings. Robert commands the stage, as usual, while Bonzo and Jonesy link up almost telepathically, creating a beat almost heaven-sent. Jimmy, for as awkward as it looks, three usable fingers grappling with the fretboard, makes the guitar scream and cry and sing. The winces of pain that she can see from her spot are worrying, though. To an outsider, it would seem as though he was simply somewhere else, the guitar becoming one with its handler.

But Layla knows better. She can see the exhaustion in his face, from hours spent bent over his guitar, adjusting the way he’s played for most of his life. She can see the lines of discomfort around his mouth, his lips bitten red out of concentration, from trying his absolute best to put on a good show. As she leaves her post near the stage to tune up Jimmy’s guitars for the next numbers, just as Peter had asked her to, she can’t help but let out a nervous sigh. Layla has seen how just stubborn the man is, how much he wants to succeed, and please the audience. She knows he’ll leave everything out there on stage. She just wonders how much of him there will be left over, in the end.

Completing the rest of the menial backstage tasks, the brunette walks back to the mouth of the backstage area, intercepting the boys as they come off after a thrilling encore, the deafening cheers of the crowd following them as they exit.

“If you keep this up, you’ll really get popular! I’m just kidding, but really, guys, that was incredible,” Layla raves, accompanying them to the dressing room. Bonzo sidles up next to her, wrapping an amicable arm around her as they walk, basking in the glow of her kind words. “All of you did such an amazing job!”

“Do we get a kiss now? Last time you saw us perform, Jimmy got one…” Robert asks, flipping his hair, damp and dark with sweat, off his shoulder.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you, Robert?” Layla chuckles, throwing a smile at him over her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s only fair!”

“In what way is that fair?”

The group finally reach the dressing room, lounging on the comfortable chairs strewn across the room. The boys take turns changing out of their stage clothes, and greet the guests in the room, shaking hand after hand. Soft laughter trickles like a steady stream in the background as Layla, sitting on a loveseat with Jimmy, places a hand on his thigh, prompting his eyes to meet hers.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, petal.” Jimmy’s voice is soft, faraway as his hand meets hers on his lap. The guitarist lets out a sigh, staring at the wall, expression neutral.

“That was a great performance, Jim. I hope you know that.”

“It was… good. It could've been better.”

“You know, I really am so proud of you,” Layla says, turning his head to face her, her fingers at his jaw. She looks deep into his eyes, and he stares back, an unreadable expression on his face. She’s always been able to read him, since the day she met him. Layla feels a pang in her heart, and continues. “It was great, and you made a lot of people happy… even if you’re not 100% yet.”

This is met with silence, as Jimmy lowers his head, hair falling into his eyes. He’s developed a habit of this now, and Layla resolves to break him out of that. His beautiful eyes make her day, after all. Reminders of their stay at the hospital flash through Layla’s mind, and she moves the hand that rested softly on his cheek to the small of his back, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of his stage clothes. He hasn't changed out of them yet, or done much of anything, in fact, trapped in the prison of his self-deprecating thoughts. His gaze lifts from his shoes at the contact, which Layla takes as a good sign.

“Now,” Layla clears her throat, pulling him up from the couch with a small hand at his arm. “Go get changed. You’re all sweaty, it’s a wonder you didn’t get heat stroke.”

“It’s a good thing I have you to take care of me,” Jimmy mutters playfully, a shadow of his usual smile creasing his delicate features. “Seriously, Layla, you could give Jonesy a run for his money.”

“Isn’t it just terrible of me to want to make sure you’re alright?” Layla grumbles, the smirk playing on her lips betraying the annoyed expression she sends Jimmy’s way.

Jimmy chuckles, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

“I appreciate it, petal.”

Walking to the changing room, slipping out of the grasp Layla had on his arm, he sends her a grateful smile over his shoulder. Layla watches him, appreciating the view as he walks away.

--------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 (let me know if you want to be added!)

#only the black rose #jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #jimmy x oc #jimmy page x oc

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mccall-me-maurice · 3 years ago

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LOTF Drabbles for every single one of my ships based on songs on my playlist while I wait for the movers to finish

Jalph [Boom Clap - Charli XCX]: “You’re the glitter in the darkness of my world.”

Jack glances at the fair boy’s face from across the classroom. Somehow, even with the disgusting lights the school provides for their students, Ralph manages to make them appear as if they’re worth $100. It’s probably just the way that the redhead views him, only knowing portions about the boy, as if he was glancing through a keyhole. The feelings that boil under Jack’s skin - froth spilling over the edge of the pot and into the fire - consume his every waking day, plague every thought that rushes through his skull. But he has to place a glass lid on top of the water because god forbid anyone figure out that he was in love with Ralph Allebach. God forbid anyone figure out he was queer. Because in the end, he was just a fucked up kid drunk on the love he had for his nemesis. A kid the real world would tear apart, limb by limb.

Rogermon [Walk Away - The Script]: “(S)he finds colour in the darkest places, (S)he finds beauty in the saddest of faces.”

A flower bud sprouts in the garden of Eden, without even knowing that it had just entered paradise. It sinks its roots into perfect soil, the plant itself never realising that it had found a home where other’s didn’t even know of its existence. Simon Cortés was like Roger Volkov’s garden of Eden. Every time the boy created a scar or slashed open a mental wound, Simon was there to heal it. He would administer the pill, absorb the bad things with his own light, stitch every laceration that used to leave Roger doubled over and overflowing with rage. Simon Cortés was an angel trying his hardest to turn a devil to the right side of the coin.

Mauram [The Other Side - Jason DeRulo]: “This could be perfect, but we won’t know unless we try.”

Maurice always felt like there was nothing in the world to fight for. No matter who came in and out of the house inside of his brain, nobody would stay for very long. Nobody could stay for very long. He never made room for anyone in the four walls, knowing that he had enough space for himself and that was good enough. Or, it used to be good enough. But one can only live in a house all alone for so long before they start to long for someone there with them. At the very least a neighbourhood surrounding him, so maybe he wouldn’t be all alone. Which is exactly what Sam Pinch did. He slowly found the materials and built his own residence right next to Maurice’s. A boy who the brunette never wanted to talk to, who he actively avoided at the beginnings of their friendship, had opened the front door and never swung it shut. Because, in the end, Maurice couldn’t call anything home if he didn’t have Sam.

Robric [Capital Letters - Hailee Steinfeld]: “When we lie so still, but you’re taking me places.”

Robert was honestly bored with his life before he met the twins. It was the same daily routine, get up, get ready, go to school, attend choir practice then rinse and repeat. Falling into something familiar did feel nice at times, knowing that every hour of the day was used to it’s fullest and that he could predict when things would get done or when he’d have free time. But the twins brought a specific spice in his life, one that everyone else had failed to do. In the end, it was mostly Eric who forced Robert up and out of his comfort zone, aiding him in more mischievous tasks and generally becoming the brunette’s backbone. Eric was there, in the hospital, when Robert sprained his wrist, apologising profusely about ever making him try to climb a tree to grab an apple. And even in the immense pain shooting through his wrist, he blamed himself for ever doing. It occurred to him then, in the hospital waiting room, that no matter what happened to the two of them, Robert would always find a way to defend Eric. Even if the boy was clearly in the wrong. When all was said and all was done, Eric was the most important thing in Robert’s life. And he was oddly okay with that.

Billiggy [Breaking Your Own Heart - Kelly Clarkson]: “The very thing you’ve been the most afraid of, you’ve been doing from the start.”

Bill can’t remember ever apologising to anyone. For anything. His pride has always been greater than that, never letting the blonde stoop so low as to get on his knees and beg someone for forgiveness. In all honesty, he’s never done anything bad enough to need to beg someone to just let him have another chance. If you really wanted to look at it through a kaleidoscope lens, then one could assume Bill was petrified of hurting someone’s feelings and then needing to apologise. But that heart gripping sensation was something he had to conquer upon apologising to Peter Curtis for past mistakes. He’d known he was probably in the wrong at the time and convinced himself that he was right in some sick, twisted manner. So when he stuttered out the words to try and excuse his behaviour, Bill knew that they didn’t sound as genuine as he wanted them too. But Peter just chuckled and claimed that he had known for a while that Bill didn’t mean it, and out of everyone in the choir to forgive, he was more than willing to part on good terms with the blonde. And that’s how Bill Borg found himself in an unusual friendship with the boy he once called Piggy.

Wilrold [Jet Black Heart - 5 Seconds of Summer]: “But these chemicals moving between us are the reason to start again.”

Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, Wilfred Lucio chose his childhood best friend. And he’s almost certain that Harold Miracle has fallen in love with him too. Between the way he spends every waking hour with Wilfred and how he clings to the boy as if they’re attracting sides of magnets. He’s never that way with anyone else, in fact, Harold gives most people serious attitude when they ask him innocent enough questions. It is almost as if nobody else in this world matters to him quite like Wilfred does. Which is probably why the two do everything together, they’re practically conjoined at the hip. And that’s why nothing hurts the teal haired boy more than watching Harold run off and be free on his own, blind to the fact that his own best friend was drowning in an unconditional love for him that couldn’t be stopped, no matter how many barricades were built.

Perciberry [This Town - Niall Horan]: “And I know that it’s wrong, That I can’t move on.”

Max’s worst fear was always losing Percival. It was always watching the soft smile that breaks out on his face dissipate like sugar in boiling water. So when the brunette comes to Max, tears streaming down his cheeks and nose tinged red from the crying he’s still doing, the boy assumes the worst. For once, his intuition is right. Percival doesn’t give a reason, doesn’t let the other have any insight. Just sobs out a break up and retreats, broken cries still ringing in Max’s ears. Weeks and weeks pass and the boy knows that he’s still in love with Percival, he still loves the way he laughs as if everything is the funniest thing he’s ever heard, he still loves how Percival insists people call him “Percy” because it’s easier for the boy himself to remember. Despite every path Max taking leading him directly to the feet of Percival Wemys Maddison, he knows that deep down in the base of his heart, something made him unloveable. He was the one who tore them apart, he was the thorn in their side. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he’d lost the one person who swore to love him until death. And Max would still take Percival’s hand and grip it tight if he asked.

Jalter [Use Somebody - Kings of Leon]: “You know that I could use somebody, someone like you, and all you know and how you speak.”

Johnny is one of the only people in Walter’s life who doesn’t judge any of the choices he makes. He tries to advise the boy in the right direction; steer him on the right path, but he will never tell Walter what he can and cannot do. This fact is endearing in a way, making the dark haired boy want to wrap his friend up in a tight hug and spin him around until they couldn’t stand anymore. Everlasting support was something Walter always lacked from others, so getting it from the strawberry blonde just boosted his self confidence and the image he chose to paint himself as. It takes him years upon years of being Johnny’s friend before he realises that the boy was always by his side not because he just wanted to be there for Walter. But because he couldn’t stand to watch the boy do it alone. Johnny has made Walter the centre of his galaxy subconsciously, just letting the raven haired boy become the sun and letting himself revolve around him. But to Walter, Johnny was the sun and he was the moon. The boy would light him up no matter what happened, always shedding the pure radiance of joy onto Walter. He wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the feeling.

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rmtndew · 4 years ago

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Begin Again ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff)

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo, @musicartmayheminmyheart

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Hectic was the only word to describe the next morning. From the moment I stepped foot into Darcy’s office at Waverly, we were going non-stop. We had a massive delivery that had to be ready by eleven o’clock and even though we’d done as much prep work as we could the day before, it was still a huge undertaking for a single morning. Our saving grace was that the company was sending someone to pick it up for them instead of having it delivered, which meant we could work right until pickup time. And that’s exactly what we did.

We had all the orders boxed up and ready to go, and Nick and I waited in the front room of the store for the pickup guy. Nick’s sole purpose for being there was to make up for his mistake from the day before: his punishment was to help with the loading.

I was double-checking the order (just for my own sake) when I heard the bell above the door alert me to someone coming in. I turned, mentally preparing myself for social interaction, knowing that I had to greet the customer with a smile. But as I took in the man walking towards me, I felt like puking.

“Fiona? Is that you?” Ezra, my ex-boyfriend, was smiling and walking towards me.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I steeled myself and asked, “Are you here for the Mead-Holmes order?”

“Come on, Fi, don’t play like this,” he said, stopping far too close to me.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “And what order are you here for?”

He put his hand on my arm. “Fi, I swear I didn’t know you worked here. I promise. Or I wouldn’t have come,” he said. “But maybe it’s a good thing.”

I took his hand off me, removing it completely. “Don’t touch me. Don’t call me Fi. Just tell me what order you’re here to get,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage.

He scoffed. “Wow. I really thought you’d be an adult about it whenever we finally ran into each other, but I was wrong.”

Nick stepped up. “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt but I’m here to help load the Mead-Holmes order, so if you’re here to pick that up, you can go ahead and sign off on it and show me where you’re at and I’ll get these loaded for you.”

Ezra kept his eyes on me while Nick was talking and then a moment longer once he finished. Finally, he looked at Nick and let out a breath. “Yeah, that’s my order,” he said. “Where do I sign for it?”

Nick moved behind me, taking the clipboard with the order form from the counter, then handed it to Ezra. He scribbled out something that was meant to be a signature, but I was sure that a brain dead parrot would have had more legible handwriting. Nick had his hand out, ready to take the clipboard back, but instead, Ezra thrust it at me. I took it, trying not to give him the satisfaction of letting him see a reaction on my face.

“Thank you. A copy of the receipt is attached to the order and will be e-mailed back to your company. We appreciate your business,” I said. “Now, if you would show Nick to your vehicle, he would be more than willing to help you load your order.”

He took a set of keys from his pocket, aimed over his shoulder, and pressed a button. The van parked right outside the door beeped and the lights flashed temporarily as he unlocked it. “You can load them in the back,” Ezra said to Nick, not bothering to even look at him.

“Have a good day,” I said flatly, then turned to leave. I didn’t even take a step before he put his hand back on my arm again. My entire body tensed up. “Ezra, let me go.”

“You’re really just going to walk off without talking to me?”

“I did talk to you, but there’s nothing left to say except let me go.”

He removed his hand, then circled around so he was in front of me. “I’m here on business and you’re supposed to be representing your company. Being rude to me isn’t a great way to treat customers.”

I placed the clipboard on the counter and crossed my arms, trying to keep them out of his reach, then took a side step, allowing Nick access to the boxes stacked beside me. “I’m not being rude.”

He smiled condescendingly at me. “Look, I know that we ended on some...rough terms, but I hoped that when we finally saw each other, we could recognize it was for the best.”

“It was for the best,” I agreed.

“See? That’s my girl.”

My jaw clenched as my hands balled into fists. “I’m not your girl. I’m not your anything,” I said. “The reason I think breaking up was for the best is because I didn’t want to waste any more of my time with someone so shallow, and cold, and selfish as you. And the moment you finally revealed that part of yourself to me, the moment you showed me exactly who you are, I was done.” I shook my head. “The one good thing about you being as heartless as you were, was that I never spent a single second worrying about what I did wrong, or how I could have fixed things between us. I never cried myself to sleep at night missing you. Most people who have toxic partners don’t get a clean cut at the end of a relationship like I did. But that day at South York, when you broke up with me all of ten seconds after I’d told you that Dad had been in a wreck, you cauterized that line between us. So yeah; it was for the best.”

Nick made a low whistling sound right before leaving the store, the bell overhead echoing him.

“You know, it’s a little irritating that you always bring up this crap about ending things after your dad’s accident, but would you have preferred me to wait until after you knew that he was dead? Would that have made it easier? No,” he said. “I did you a favor. It was like a Band-Aid. I pulled it off quickly and got it over with. But you don’t see it like that, do you?”

“I’m not sure if you understand the definition of ‘quick’ but talking about it for the full twenty-minute drive to the hospital, where you basically kicked me out on the sidewalk, isn’t it,” I said.

“Do you hear yourself, Fi? You’re happy that I broke up with you, but oh, I should have held your hand and walked you into the hospital? Why so your mommy could yell at me then, too? Even you have to admit that was embarrassing, having Ava yell at me for you.”

My fists tightened, my fingernails biting into my skin. I’d never been so tempted to smack anyone my whole life. “I didn’t have her do anything. She was plenty mad enough to do it on her own. It was her husband who had just died when you dumped all of my stuff on her front lawn because seeing it was ‘too painful’ for you.”

“Well, rumor has it, it’s your house again now.” He took a step closer to me. “That you got fired and had to move back in with her.” He smirked. “Is that what happened, Fi? I wouldn’t marry you so you had to move back in with your mommy so someone would take care of you?”

The bell over the door rang again. I was expecting Nick to come over for more boxes and give me a way to escape, but he didn’t.

“Stop calling me Fi!” I snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. Now I suggest you take your order and leave.”

He frowned at me mockingly. “Aw, am I making you mad? You’re so cute when you’re mad. You finally do that red hair justice,” he said. “You know, if you’d shown this much passion when we were together, I might have actually considered marrying you.”

“Thank goodness I dodged that bullet then.”

The humor left his face. “Whoever gets you next, they better like broken things.”

I looked him in the eye. “Do you honestly think you were strong enough to break me, Ezra?” I asked. “The only thing you could break were promises.”

He sneered at me, then let his eyes drift behind me. I was sure that he was looking at Nick, wondering how much of his true personality he was going to let a stranger see, but then I felt a wall of heat behind me. I turned my head and saw Walter. Comfort flooded my body the moment he was at my side.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, looking down at me.

I nodded. “He was just leaving.”

Ezra took a step back. His mouth was in a thin, tight line as he looked Marshall up and down. “Are you the owner?” he asked. “Because I’m here for an order and your employee here -” He crossed his arms and nodded his head at me. “- she needs to work on her customer service skills.”

“I’m not the owner. But I’m fairly sure she told you to leave.”

Ezra looked confused. I watched in his eyes as he tried to work out what was going on. “If you’re not the owner, then our conversation has nothing to do with you. You have no reason to intervene.”

“I’m here for Fiona. And how you’re talking to her, it isn’t acceptable. She’s asked you to leave, so if you’re here for an order, I suggest you take it and go,” Marshall said. He spoke slowly and deliberately, but each word was laced with anger.

Ezra smiled. “Are you serious? You’re with her?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Good luck to you. You’ll never be able to please her.”

“From what I understand, you never really tried,” Marshall said.

“Is that what she told you?” Ezra looked at me again. “You’re always the victim, aren’t you? You poor little bird,” he said mockingly. “Maybe one day you’ll grow up and see the truth.”

“You know, this immature gas-lighting bull crap that you and Demi both pull, it’s getting old,” I said.

He smirked. “Speaking of Demi, the next time you see her, tell her that I found her earrings. They were in my couch.”

I knew what he was trying to do and I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of succeeding.

“So you had the audacity to dump my belongings on a dead man’s lawn, but you don’t have the guts to return some earrings that she allegedly left at your place?” I asked. “But I’m the immature one. Sure.”

He was angry that I hadn’t taken the bait. He pushed his hair back from his face aggressively and stepped back from me. “I hope your boss realizes that you just lost a big client,” he said, then started walking away.

“Did we? Because I’m pretty sure that the company is called Mead-Holmes, not Mead-Holmes and Williams,” I said, turning and calling after him. “And I’ve never heard of a partner or CEO fetching lunch for his company. It seems to me that you’re just an errand boy.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned back around. He opened his mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak.

“Don’t say another word. Just turn around and keep walking,” Walter said, putting himself slightly in front of me. “Or I can escort you out. It’s your decision.”

Ezra looked from Marshall to me and I could see him trying to decide if he was going to back down and listen or try to get the last word in. Eventually, he made the smart choice for once and left, shoving past Nick, who was returning to the store, then climbed into his van, slamming the door hard enough to make his windshield wipers jump.

Marshall turned to me, blocking my view of Ezra. His face was softer, his eyes holding worry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

I let out a breath. It was shaky. My whole body was tense. “No, actually. I’m angry. I can’t believe he had the nerve to come in here and act like that.”

“What do you need me to do for you?”

I blinked. It was a simple question, but it wasn’t one I was used to hearing. It felt like it took me a long time to unwrap it in my mind. Finally, I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You should take a break,” Nick said. He was loading another portion of the order onto his cart. “I’ll tell Aunt Darcy what happened as soon as I’m done. She’ll understand.”

I chewed my lip for a moment, mulling it over before finally relenting. “Okay. Thank you,” I said to Nick. Then to Marshall, “Would you come with me?”

He nodded. “Where do you want to go?”

I led him through the store and out the back door, into the employee parking lot. The moment we stepped outside, the cold air hit me. I gasped. I hadn’t thought to get my coat from Darcy’s office. Walter noticed.

“It’s cold,” he said, taking off his coat. “Put this on.”

I shivered but shook my head. “No, I can’t take it from you.”

“Yes, you can.” He placed it over my shoulders and held it on me until I finally put my arms through the sleeves, then he pulled it closed in the front. It swallowed me whole. He smiled at me. “Perfect fit.”

I smiled back. “It’s pretty cozy. Thank you,” I said. “But I feel bad that you don’t have one now.”

“I guess I’ll just have to stay close to you for warmth,” he joked. He slid his hands inside the coat and placed them on my hips. Instinctively, my arms went around his neck. We looked like we were dancing, even though we were standing still. His smile grew. “Just like this.” He kissed the top of my head before pressing his forehead to mine. “Do you want to talk about what happened or do you want to forget it?”

I let out a breath. “I don’t - I don’t know.” I let my fingers wander into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with his curls. “That was my ex. I haven’t seen him in two years. Part of me...a big part of me, just wants to forget about him, erase him from my memory and never think about him again,” I said. “But another part of me wants to go yank him out of his van and throw him to the ground and stomp his stupid teeth in. And I hate it because he’s the only person who makes me feel that way.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? The gun and badge tend to make people listen to me.”

I smiled but shook my head. “No. I just want you to stay right here with me,” I said. “Please.”

He didn’t say anything, he only nodded, moving my head slightly with his as he did. Then I closed my eyes as I tried to breathe calmly and let go of the anger that Ezra had stirred up in me. With every passing second, Marshall took over and pushed out any lingering pieces of Ezra. The heat of his hands melted away all remembrances of Ezra’s cold, clammy touch that always had an ulterior motive. The scent of him, clean and full of coffee, chased away the smell of expensive cologne that had always been applied too liberally. His presence was comforting and enveloping, not demanding and suffocating. It was like I’d been trapped in a burning building, inhaling smoke, and Walter was my first breath of fresh air and my lungs were screaming for him.

I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me. I blinked and it suddenly hit me that there must have been a reason for him being there and I’d been so caught up in myself that I hadn’t even thought to ask. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I doubt you came here for all of this.”

His hands tightened, pulling me closer. “I came here for you.”

“What did you need me to do?”

He smiled, just the corner of his mouth turned up. “Nothing.” I must have looked confused because he laughed softly. “I just wanted to see you,” he said. “I thought I might be able to take you for coffee?”

I felt my heart swell. My fingers pushed further into his hair, sinking to his scalp. Lightly I scratched my nails against it. He closed his eyes and sighed. “How did I get so lucky to meet you?”

His eyes stayed closed as he leaned back into my touch. “I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one.”

“Mom, I’m home,” I called out as I walked through the door that evening. “I picked up dinner, too.”

“Already in the kitchen,” Mom called back.

I kicked off my shoes by the door, then went to the kitchen. Mom was at the table, papers spread everywhere in front of her as she wrote on a legal pad. One set of reading glasses sat perched on her nose, while another hung around her neck on a chain.

“So...what’cha doin’?” I asked slowly, standing in the doorway.

She looked up at me and over the rim of her glasses. “Last night, June mentioned that since I was sick on her’s, mine, and Aunt Rose’s birthday, it would be fun for the three of us to go away for the weekend and celebrate. So -” She indicated to the layers of paper in front of her. “I’m planning the trip.”

“A trip to where?” I asked. “What kind of weekend getaways call for this type of planning?”

She shook her head. “No, see, I looked up a few places, printed off a list of all their attractions, restaurants, hotels, what have you, and now I’m making a list of each with pros-cons and prices for them all, then we can decide from there.” She waved her hand dismissively over the papers. “This is all getting condensed. I’m not giving them an entire booklet.”

“So, when Dad said that you were a teacher’s pet, this is the kind of thing he was talking about. Right?”

“I wasn’t a teacher’s pet; I just like being thorough. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She stood and started clearing the table. “Those are pretty,” she said, nodding to the vase of flowers in my hand. “Where did they come from?”

“Marshall gave them to me.”

“He sent you flowers at work? That was sweet.”

“Actually, he didn’t send them. He took me out to coffee and bought them for me afterward,” I said, carrying the vase and takeout bag to the counter and setting them down.

“He saw you last night, and you have a date planned for Saturday, but he asked you out for coffee today?” she asked.

I turned to look at her and leaned back against the counter. I couldn’t help my smile. “He said he just wanted to see me.”

“I think this one might be a keeper, Fi.”

I laughed. “I think so, too,” I said. “Today was very nearly a dumpster fire and he extinguished it.”

She looked concerned. “What do you mean? What went wrong?”

“So, the big order we had today? Ezra was the one who picked it up.”

She paused her cleaning. “What?”

“Yeah. I was there to get the driver to sign off on the order, so I had to talk to him. I was hoping - a little naively, I guess - that we could just keep it simple and professional, but unfortunately that didn’t happen,” I said. “I tried walking away and he followed me, essentially saying that everything that had happened between us was my fault. He said that it was pathetic that you yelled at him after we broke up, making it sound like I’d had you do it for me. And then insinuated that he and Demi were having an affair, or they’re currently sleeping together now. I’m not sure. He was trying to upset me, but I don’t know if it was the truth or not. I didn’t fall for it and ask.”

“Well, if Demi is dumb enough to get involved with him after everything she saw him put you through, then she deserves what she gets,” she said. “And if he thought it was pathetic that I yelled at him, what did he think about throwing your stuff out on our lawn two hours after your father died? Is that not beyond pathetic?”

I shook my head. “I genuinely think he’s too narcissistic to even consider himself at fault. He said he got it over with quick for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “How kind of him,” she deadpanned.

“Then Marshall came in -”

Her eyes widened. “He came in while Ezra was there?” she asked, interrupting me. I nodded. “What did he do?”

“He told Ezra that how he was talking to me was unacceptable and that he needed to leave. Then he took me outside so that I could calm down, and once Ezra left, Darcy let me have an early break and he took me out for coffee and bought me flowers to cheer me up.”

“Oh, Bird. He really is a keeper, isn’t he?”

I put my hand over my chest and felt my heart speed up thinking about him holding me in the parking lot, telling me that he was the lucky one. I let out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah. He really is, Mom.”

That night Walter called me like he said he would. I’d always been rather bad at phone calls and even he had admitted that anything outside of work calls was out of his comfort zone, but for the three and a half hours that we talked, it didn’t seem that way. I lay in bed and talked to him like he was right there. Like we’d known each other forever. We only hung up because I started drifting off. He joked that he was boring me, but I tried to assure him that it was far from that. His voice was calming and soothing and every bit as warm as he was. Sleepily I told him that he was like sitting in front of the fireplace on a rainy day with a cup of tea. He laughed but said as long as he got to sit at the fireplace beside me, he didn’t mind the comparison.

I slept better that night than I had in months.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter fan fiction #Night Hunter #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #Detective Walter Marshall #Begin Again

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 3 ✘JJ Maybank✘

Part One! Part Two!

(not my gif. All credit to pterparkcr!) Part 3/? Word Count - 6371 Warnings - Abuse mentions, underage drinking, swearing, steaming fluff (is that thing? idk) Synopsis - The party at Sarah Cameron’s has a rocky start, but ends rather well in your opinion. Taglist - @lovelymaybankk A/N - As with the other parts in this series, it’s in the second person with a named character! Thank you so much to lovelymaybankk for being a wonderful supporter, I really appreciate it! If anyone wants to see the playlist I listen to while writing these, let me know. Thank you all, I love you a million!

When you finally got home, your dad was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, just like Kid had been the night before. “Hey, Dad,” you said, setting your keys in the bowl by the door. “Hey, sweetheart.” From the tone in his voice, you knew a teary-eyed apology was on its way. You groaned inwardly as you shut your eyes. “I...I wanted to apologize for last night.” “It’s not a big deal, Dad,” you said, opening your eyes and putting on a smile. “But it is.” He pushed himself off the stairs and took a few hurried steps forward. He stopped when he saw you flinch and step backward. Tears brimmed his eyes and he covered his mouth with his hands. “I hurt my baby girl and my boy and I….” He broke down into tears, falling to one knee as he sobbed. You grit your teeth, trying to blink away a few tears of your own. He did this almost every time. He either pretended like it never happened or he cried, there was never another option. You preferred the first because you never felt obligated to comfort him, like you did now. “Dad.” You walked over to him and dropped down next to him. You wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, clinging to your arm. Every piece of your heart shattered as you heard him cry. His tears soaked through your pajama shirt. You hid a sob of your own by planting a kiss onto his head. Keeping your breathing steady, you slowly peeled him off of you, putting your hands over his teary cheeks. “There is one way you can make it up to me,” you said, plastering on a smile. “Anything,” he choked out. “Anything.” “Sarah is having a get together tonight and she wants me to come.” “You...go out?” You heard the concern in his voice so you pushed harder. “You know how much I like Sarah, and I know you want me to make better friends. This is me trying.” When it was clear he was still mulling it over in your mind, you pulled the last stop you knew would guarantee a yes. “And...Rafe will be there tonight.” “Rafe?” The tears were immediately gone from his eyes. You nodded, though your stomach sickened. “I thought you hated him.” “He’s not as bad as I thought.” A lie. He was worse. “Well, if someone responsible like Rafe is there….” You resisted the urge to laugh. “As long as it isn’t a party, you can go.” A grin spread across your lips. You leaned down and kissed your dad on the cheek, just one more foot in his goodwill door. “Thank you, Daddy.” You helped him to his feet and brushed away a few of his stray tears. “I love you, sweetheart.” “Love you.” As soon as you were upstairs, you vomited the words out of your mouth. While you were glad that you had been given permission to go to the party, you hated how low you had to go to get there. Making your dad bend to your will was generally easy and very rarely did you actually feel bad about it. After all, his favorite past time was beating you senseless, so why couldn’t you manipulate him to get the things you wanted? It seemed like a pretty fair game. You brushed your teeth twice before heading back to your room to start homework. As soon as you opened your computer, you knew that you were going to get very little done. Your mind went, as it usually did these days, straight to JJ. You weren’t sure how to feel. You fought the last time you spoke to him, but you also spent the entire night thinking about seeing him at this party. And then you saw him kiss another girl and then spent the entire day wanting to murder him. And now you were just double confused because he seemed ready enough to introduce you to one of his best friends. Your mind was all over the place and none of those places was homework. In hopes to drown out your own thoughts and focus better, you turned on some music. But then the song that you and JJ ‘danced’ to came on and you were thrown into all over again. You found yourself humming and tapping your foot instead of typing out your essay. Eventually, frustration overcame you and you tossed your computer onto your pillow and shut off the music. You spent the next few hours trying to not think about JJ and focus on your school. It had never been hard to focus before. You knew you needed to go to a good school to get a good job to be able to take care of Kid once your dad was out of the picture, and that meant getting good grades now. Homeschooling wasn’t too hard for you, but if you didn’t get most of your work done today, you were going to suffer for it later. JJ and his stupid smile were really throwing a wrench in every single one of your plans. The time came for you to pick Kid up from school, but he texted you asking if you could pick him up from a friend’s in an hour or two. As long as you got him home before Dad got home, you usually let him go and do whatever he wanted after school. You wanted your brother to have the social life you never did. You didn’t have a big sister to cover for you or pick you up from wherever when you were his age. But that didn’t matter. You were going to be the big sister that you always wished you had.

You somehow managed to focus long enough to finish the essay and start on your math homework. It didn’t take long for Kid to text you to tell you to come and pick him up. The entire drive there and back, you were worried that you would somehow run into JJ like you had before. “Are you okay?” Kid asked, looking up from his comic. “Hmm? Yeah, oh yeah.” “Why do you keep looking out the window?” “No reason.”

Now consciously aware of your wandering eyes, you tried to keep your gaze fixed on the road ahead. The sun was starting to go down and the only thing you should be worried about right now was getting Kid home quickly and finishing your work, not JJ. Luckily, you made it home without any unwanted visitors and a few minutes before your Dad got home. Kid sat on the ground in your room munching on some potato chips while the both of you worked on school work. You heard your Dad pull into the driveway. You and Kid glanced at each other and shared a knowing smile. It always felt like a victory when Kid was able to do something without Dad finding out. After a few minutes, your dad knocked on your door and opened it. “Hey, Kiddos.” “Hey, Dad.” “Tacos good for tonight?” “Sure,” Kid said. “Elm?” “I’m going over to Sarah’s, remember? They’ll have food there,” you said with a smile. Your dad’s face fell for a moment.

“Ah, yes.” “And I’m sure if I don’t get enough to eat, Rafe would be more than happy to get me something,” you added, praying that your dad worshiped Rafe enough to not double back on his word. “Rafe, yes. I’m sure he will.” He sighed. “How was work?” You asked, hoping to change the subject. “Good, good. Busy.”

“That’s good.” The air went stale when no one said anything else. “I’ll call you when dinner is ready, Bradford,” your dad said, looking down at Kid. He nodded, returning to his homework. “Thanks, Dad,” you said as he turned and shut the door.

You spent the next hour finishing up as much homework as you could before getting ready. You couldn’t remember the last time you put real effort into a party outfit. But this time you tried on at least five different outfits, asking Kid each time if it was alright before finally landing on something you liked. “Is that boy going to be at Sarah’s?” Kid asked, now sitting on your bed as you checked yourself out in the mirror again. “What boy?” You eyed your brother carefully. “That boy that was here a few weeks ago. The one who snuck out when Dad and I got back from our trip?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know,” you said, mentally punching yourself for overthinking things again. It didn’t matter if JJ was going to be at Sarah’s party because you had no intention of talking to him. Either you were going to end up crying (again) or you were going to punch him, and you were sick of crying. Even if JJ was there, you weren’t sure why you put so much attention into your outfit. You dropped to the floor, pressing your hands against your eyes. You heard Kid climb down from your creaky bed. He sat next to you and bumped your shoulder with his. You let out another sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, afraid that your voice would break if you spoke any louder. “For what?” “For bringing my silly drama into your peaceful Friday night,” you said, lifting your head and trying to give a smile. Kid shook his head.

“You go get prettied up for this boy, El.”

A smile broke out on your face and you felt your cheeks heaten. Kid bumped your shoulder again and you scrambled upward to grab your makeup from your bathroom. Kid turned up the music and jumped back onto your bed. You bobbed your head, sitting in front of your mirror, as you finished your look. It was nearly seven by the time you were finished. “Ready?” You asked Kid. He looked up from his comic and pursed his lips, checking to make sure everything was in place. “Ready,” he confirmed with a smile. You walked over and kissed the top of his head, an unusually cheery bounce in your step. “Bye, Kid,” you said. “Be back by 12!” Kid said, deepening his voice to mimic your dad. You laughed as you slung your bag over your shoulder on the way to the door. “Bye!” You hurried down the stairs, smile glowing on your face. “You’ll be careful tonight?” Dad said from the kitchen. You startled and turned around. “Yeah, Dad. It’s just a few girls, there’s nothing to worry about.” “And Rafe?” You were about up to your ears with all the talk about Rafe, but if it meant you could go to this goddamn party, you would kiss up as much as you needed. “Yes,” you said, trying not to let your dad see the exasperated sigh you wanted to let out as you said it. “And Rafe.”

His final nod said that you had made it past the last wall of permission. You had to keep yourself from running out the door as fast as you could. Once you were outside, you bolted from the door all the way to your car. Blasting the music in your car got you singing at the top of your lungs as you drove, probably faster than you should have, to Sarah’s house.

Tannyhill wasn’t very far from your own house, only a 15 minute drive, but with anticipation gurgling in your stomach, it felt like forever. By the time you reached the house, you could tell that the party was in full bloom. A sudden spark of anxiety shot through you. What exactly were you supposed to be doing here? The only person you really liked was Sarah, but she had all of her own friends. So you sat in your car for five minutes before finally plucking up the courage to go inside. You were beyond thrilled when the first person you saw offered you a red cup with vodka. “Please,” you said and downed the entire thing. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be taking alcohol from strangers at a party, but your nerves were already so fried from worry that you didn’t care who you took what from, as long as you were buzzed before anyone started talking to you. It didn’t take long for you to find Sarah, and to your surprise, she actually left her friends to come over to you. “Elma!” She said with a smile. “Just call me Elm,” you said as she neared. “Elma is a stupid name.”

Sarah giggled, already plastered, and handed you another cup of alcohol, which you gladly took. She dragged you over to her other friends, who gladly accepted you. You could tell they were all drunk off their asses because they took the time to speak to you, which wasn’t something most Kooks took pleasure in doing.

Two hours later, you heard hollering from outside that could mean only one thing; the pogue take over. Like the idiot he was, JJ was the first one in the door with a kegger in his hands. How he managed to carry the thing on his own like it was nothing was beyond you. Everyone in the house was silent for a moment and part of you was afraid they would all attack. But then a large cry of cheers erupted and you knew for a fact that everyone was drunk out of their minds. You were going to join in on the cheering when you saw the girl that JJ kissed yesterday walk in right behind him. Maybe it was the alcohol or the deep-rooted, unresolved trauma you buried deep in your chest, but you stood in a sudden flurry of anger and marched outside. You were on your fifth cup of beer and you could feel it affecting you. You should have tried to find the place where the music was loudest and dance out the alcohol, but all you managed to do was step outside and breathe in the weed smelling air. You just needed to breathe for a moment, you told yourself. You were being overdramatic and you needed to calm down. Of course, the universe was still punishing you for whatever the hell it was you did wrong because your moment of calm was soon interrupted by the one boy you assured your father would protect you, but who was also the same boy who was most likely to kill you. “What are you doing here, Elma?” You heaved out a disgusted sigh and hung your head. “I’m enjoying the party, Rafe,” you said, taking another drink from your cup.

“I don’t want you in my house.”

“First of all, this isn’t your house. Second, your sister invited me here. And lastly, as you can see-” You motioned up to the sky. “I am clearly not inside.” Rafe grabbed your wrist from behind and you spun around to face him, whatever joking mood you were in fading instantly to anger. “Don’t touch me,” you spat. “Get out.” “You can’t tell me what to do.” “What are you going to do, hit me again?” “Yeah, I might.”

You were seconds away from doing just that, when someone interrupted. “Let her go, Rafe,” JJ said, standing a few feet away. You rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your beer. “This is none of your business, pogue,” Rafe said, not taking his eyes off of you. You tilted your head to the side, one of the worst ideas you ever had popping into your head. “Rafe-” “Hey, Maybank,” you said, turning to look at him. “Shut up and learn to read the room, maybe.” Without giving him the chance to say anything, you stood on your toes and kissed Rafe full on the mouth. Did it make you want to vomit? Sure. Would you have rathered punch him in the face? Yes. Did it make you feel any better at all? Hell no. Especially when Rafe kissed you back. You waited to hear the door open and shut again before pulling away from Rafe. He lingered where he was for a moment, eyes shut and lips puckered. You cringed at him and wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “God, you’re pathetic,” you said, walking away from him. You went back inside to grab another drink, taking one shot of something before grabbing another cup of beer. You walked away from the house, wind stinging your eyes and making them water. At least, that’s what you told yourself to convince yourself that you weren’t about to cry. You walked out to the docks where you hoped you could be alone. You sat on the edge, kicking your feet back and forth over the water, your untouched beer beside you. Your mind was like mud, an unfortunate side effect of not spending your drunk energy on dancing. You could barely finish one coherent thought, which was never good. Finally, after a few minutes of trying to have a dramatic existential crisis without being able to think properly, you had enough. You slid off your sandals, setting them beside the beer. Taking a few steps away from the edge of the docks, you ran and jumped into the cold marsh. The chill kickstarted your system again. It was like a reboot. The mud was washed clean from your mind and you felt the return of your senses. You stayed beneath the water as long as you could. Once your lungs started to scream for air, you made for the surface. You gasped in air once you broke through, treading water to keep you afloat. Now shivering and wet, you swam over to the dock and reached up to pull yourself out. To your surprise, there was a hand waiting for you, offering your help out. You looked up at JJ, who stood with his other hand in his pocket. You took his hand and he pulled you out. Standing beside him, you were suddenly unsure of what to say. After spending hours thinking about it, you were silent when it really mattered. You started shivering almost as soon as the night chill hit your skin, but you tried to hide it. “I have a sweater in John B’s car, if you want to borrow it,” he said. Apparently your hiding skills weren’t at their prime. You nodded slowly and followed as he headed off toward the beat-up, old van that the Pogues drove around in. Neither of you said anything for a while. “Why’d you drive off this morning?” He asked suddenly. You turned your head to look at him with a cocked brow. “That’s your only question?” He shrugged so you let out a sigh and decided to answer. “Well, the last time we spoke, we didn’t really finish on the best of terms and then I saw you kiss that girl and I then I was, well I hit my head last night pretty hard so I was out of it and then Pope was there-” “Pope just happened to be there.” “Yeah? Well-” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as you approached the car. “I guess I just freaked.” JJ pulled open the side door of the car and grabbed his sweater, handing it to you. You held it for a moment, unsure if putting on his sweater was the best idea. You were about to give yourself a full-blown essay about all the reasons it would be a bad idea when a sudden bluster of wind blew past, sending shivers up your spine. You quickly pulled the sweater on over your head. It took all of your remaining brain cells working together to not think about how warm it was or how much it smelled like him. “I didn’t kiss her,” JJ said as he slid the door shut. “What?” “That girl. I know what you’re talking about, but I didn’t kiss her.” Guilt turned your cheeks red. “Oh.” You looked down as the two of you started to walk away from the van. “I’m sorry then.” “For what?” You stifled a smile. “I may or may not have spent that entire day plotting how to kill you and dispose of your body so no one could ever find it,” you said, a smile pulling at your lips. JJ laughed and looked at the ground before looking back at you. “How would you do it?” “Let’s see,” you said, pulling your hands inside the sleeves of JJ’s sweater. “I think I settled on drowning you. You see, if you kill someone and then throw their body into the water, too much water gets in their lungs. Any coroner could see it from a mile away that something fishy happened.” “Duly noted.” “Yeah, and then I would take you and your boat out somewhere and capsize it somehow.” “Man, remind me to never piss you off again.”

You let out a laugh. When the smiles fell from both your lips, you spoke again. “I’m also sorry I kissed Rafe.”

“I’m pretty sure that hurt you more than it hurt me,” JJ said with a laugh. You stopped walking and put a hand on his wrist. He turned back toward you and the look in his eyes told you enough. “I really am sorry.” With a soft sigh, he pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them just below your jaw, tilting your face up toward his. He leaned down and instead of kissing your lips, he placed a long kiss against your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, you breathed in a deep breath. You saw a flash from behind your eyelids. A storm must be coming. You didn’t care. JJ pulled back for just long enough to look into your eyes before dipping back down and kissing you properly. This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t needy or desperate or full of desire. It was something else. Something softer. Something far more terrifying. There was another flash. “You wanna get out of here?” You asked, looking up at him with a smile. He nodded and you grabbed his hand, leading him toward your car. “You left your shoes,” he said, pointing back toward the dock. “Oh, yeah.” You took one step in that direction, but he stopped you. “I’ll go get them.” Before you could say anything, he took off toward the dock. Watching him run toward your shoes, you felt a smile slowly pull its way up your lips until you were grinning like an idiot. A question floated at the front of your skull, a question you refused to fully ask, even in your own mind. When JJ returned to you, shoes in one hand, he smiled. “Shall we?” “We shall.”

The casual stroll to the car felt just as natural to you as breathing. Your hand itched to be held in his, but you didn’t want to push your luck tonight. Besides, holding hands was way too personal for you. You didn’t want to hold his hand. That would be so silly. You slid into the front seat of your car as JJ climbed in beside you. “You know, I’ve never seen a kook with an uglier car,” he said, closing the door. You looked at him and let out a confused laugh. “In the best way possible, of course.” “I’ll have you know,” you said as you put the keys into the ignition and started your car. “This baby could outrun that stinky van of yours any day.” “Hey, don’t insult John B’s van. We love that thing.” “Yeah, whatever.” You pulled out of the driveway, maneuvering around the other cars without hitting a single one. “Where are we going?” He asked. “What, are you afraid I’m actually going to kill you?” “I wouldn’t put it past you.” You let out a mock-hurt laugh, your heart hammering at the sound of his own. “I’m glad I let off murder vibes,” you said. JJ leaned toward you. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he said before kissing your cheek. “Excuse me?” You were trying not to take your eyes off the road, but JJ sitting so close to you and smiling like he was made it very difficult. “Didn’t you see me beat the shit out of Rafe?” “Yeah. Once. And you were drunk.” “Oh, please, I’ve done it a hundred times. I practically grew up with the guy,” you said. “Really? “Um, yeah. You really think the only practice I get fighting is when I’m swinging at my dad?” You scoffed. “No, sir. Rafe and I have been beating the shit out of each other since we had the muscle strength to swing our fists.” “Now that is interesting,” JJ said, leaning against his closed fist. “You find that interesting?” “Interesting, terrifying, sexy. Whatever you want to call it.” “I bet you I could beat your ass,” you said. “Was that a threat or a challenge?” “Both.” “Pull over and we’ll settle this now.” “Hold your horses, bucko. I’m almost to our destination.” JJ laughed, leaning his chair back. “There’s the bucko thing again.” “Shut up.” A few minutes later, you pulled off the main road and onto a narrow dirt road. “I am starting to feel like you are taking me somewhere to kill me.” “Hey, I already told you my murder plans and we turned away from the ocean, not toward it. For now, you can be pretty certain I’m not going to kill you.” JJ turned to look at you with a smile. “For now,” he said in a fake ominous tone. When you finally came to a stop, you were parked on an empty plane. With nothing but grass below you and nothing but stars above. You reached into your backseat to grab a few blankets you kept stored back there for the times you and Kid did this exact same thing. You slid out of the car with a giddy grin on your face, JJ following after you. You tossed the blankets on the ground but had no time to do anything else before JJ tackled you to the ground from behind. “What the hell?” You cried, trying to push him off of you but only succeeding in getting more tangled in the blankets. “I thought we were going to see who wins a fight?” JJ said, pinning you down and hovering over you. You glared at him. “Oh, it’s on.” You spent the next few minutes rolling around half in the blankets, half on the grass. The fight ended when you found yourself straddling JJ, your hands against his shoulders to keep him pinned. “I think,” you said, breathless. “I think I win.”

“I let you win.” “Oh, really?” “Yeah.” You breathed heavily through your nose and sat back, moving your hands from his shoulders so he could move if he wanted to. But he didn’t. “Can I tell you something?” JJ sat up on his elbows. “Go for it.”

“The reason I was so quick to think the worst about you when I saw you with that girl, I guess-” You paused to give yourself a moment to breathe. “I guess it was easier that way.” “How do you mean?” “Well, if I could convince myself you were just messing around with me I felt like I could still walk away without feeling hurt. I figured that I could just forget everything and move on and go back to living like I was before. I’m just...not used to caring about someone other than Kid and especially not so quickly,” you said. “So you care about me.” JJ smirked and made a face at you. You rolled your eyes, not even trying to keep down a smile. “Well, shit, Maybank,” you said, mimicking his smile. “What else am I supposed to do when you kiss me the way you do?” “Can I tell you something?” JJ asked. “Only if it’s appropriate.”

“I spent the first week after I was at your house trying not to think about you,” he said. Your heart started to pound, lost somewhere deep in your stomach. “Kinda failed at that one, didn’t I?” “Look at us, two people with emotional issues talking about our feelings.” You needed to say something to cover up the fact that your stomach was currently doing turns like some kind of freaking ballerina. “Aw, hell. The world’s going to end.”

JJ lay back, placing his hands on your hips and looking up at the stars. “Do you wanna know something?” He glanced at you instead of answering. “I don’t want to kiss anyone else. Just you” JJ worked his way to sitting up, sliding you into his lap. He moved one hand to your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “Purple,” he said. You tilted your head to the side and blinked. “My favorite color. You asked me to think about it and I decided my favorite color is purple.” You smiled, pulling your lower lip between your teeth to try and cover it up. “Purple is a wonderful color.” JJ pressed his lips against yours. Instead of the ocean, this time you felt the expanse of the sky above you. Maybe the universe hadn’t been trying to lead you away from JJ, but push you right toward him. The kiss was short, leaving you wanting, but it was obvious that JJ had something else that he wanted to say. “I don’t want to kiss anyone else either,” he said, his eyes still closed, almost as if he was afraid to say it to your face. This time you didn’t smile and instead pulled him in for another kiss. Nothing else mattered. You were sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean, but you could breathe perfectly fine. You were no longer drowning. You weren’t exactly sure when the kiss shifted from something like a contract to full of macking, but it did. Maybe it was when JJ moved his other hand to cradle your head or when you pulled his shirt off...somewhere in there. If you had still been in the car, the windows would have steamed up from how hot your breath was. When JJ dropped his lips to your neck, he moved his hands down as well, lifting his sweater just enough to get his hands against your stomach and back. His hands were calloused, rough, but it felt good against your skin. “JJ,” you breathed. You could tell that he appreciated being called by his first name from the way his hands curled against you, his teeth grazing your neck. “Do it again,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over your skin as he made his way back up to your lips. “JJ.”

You knew it was dangerous to push your limits like you were. The last two times this happened, you had gotten out of this before the anxiety took over completely. Last time JJ was aware of what he was doing, in control of how far he was going. But now, by where his hands were and by the way he clung to you, you weren’t sure he was thinking about that right now. And you weren’t sure you could stop yourself before you were overcome. At this moment in time, there was no fear, there was just JJ. You would have pushed and pushed and pushed until you were right on the brink. But you were already overboard, why not go deeper? Luckily, the universe was looking out for you. A deep thunderclap echoed across the sky, making you jump and a quiet shriek flew from your mouth. JJ laughed, just as out of breath as you were. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little lightning?” He asked. You glared at him. “I was preoccupied,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. Just before you kissed him again, the sky let out another burst of thunder. You sighed, closing your eyes. “I guess Mother Nature is cockblocking me,” JJ said. You dropped your forehead to his shoulder before rolling off of him. “I guess.” “We should get in your car before it starts to rain.”

“Man, I really wanted to look at the stars,” you sighed, starting to collect the blankets off of the ground. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so distracting.” He helped you move the blankets into the car. You barely had time to shut the front door before the rain started to pour. You pulled a mirror out of your purse and caught a glimpse of your neck, which was absolutely riddled with hickeys. “Dude,” you whispered, tracing one with your finger. You glanced over to JJ, who was hiding a smile behind one of his hands. He shrugged at you. You smacked his arm, revealing the laughter he was trying to keep in. “You’re lucky I carry concealer or I would be murdered in the morning.” “Hey, listen-” “What? What’s your excuse?” “You have very nice skin.” “My skin is nice so you have to give me a million and a half hickeys?” JJ shrugged again, laughter shaking through his body. “I’ll give you more if you want them.”

A bolt of lightning split open the sky. “I think Mother Nature said no to that one,” you said, peering out of the windshield at the sky above. “Whatever.” JJ leaned his chair back and put his hands behind his head. “Where to next?” “I can drop you off wherever before I head off.” You weren’t one hundred percent sure if JJ was staying with his dad or not and you didn’t want to be pushy. “You’re not going to tell me that you turn in at 12? The night is still young!” “If I’m not home, my dad will have my head on a platter,” you said, starting the car and beginning to pull out. “Live a little, remember?” “Yeah, well, if I live too much it’s my little brother who pays for it, remember?” “Right.” “So, where to?” “I’ve been staying with John B.” “Alrighty then. To John B’s.” When you pulled up to John B’s house, you weren’t surprised to see that the van was still gone. “Kiara, Pope, and John B must be having the time of their lives,” you said with a laugh. “I hope you don’t feel too excluded.” JJ laughed. “None of them are having as much fun as me,” JJ said. You rolled your eyes. The rain had begun to dwindle as you parked, so the two of you ran inside as quickly as you could. For a moment, you just looked around. This house was like nowhere you had ever been before. For the first time in a long time, the word home popped into your head. But, then again, you weren’t sure if it was the house or JJ’s arm that was hooked around your waist. “I’ve never been to a house on the cut,” you mused, running a hand over one of the cabinets, looking at all the wall hangings. “Well, it’s not much,” JJ said, grabbing a bruised apple off a shelf. He took a bite. “It’s….” You looked around again and finally shook your head. “Anyway, I should get going.”

As you turned toward the door, JJ gently grabbed onto your wrists. “Ellie-” “JJ.” “I want you to stay.” “I can’t. My dad-” “Just for once don’t think about you dad!” JJ walked past you, running his hands through his hair. “There’s so much more out there than him. You don’t have to be afraid of him.” “I’m not...I’m not afraid of my dad. I’m afraid for my brother. If I’m not there to take it, he deals it out to Kid. I can’t let that happen.” “So, you just act as your dad’s personal punching bag?” “Don’t you?” It was clear that you were both at an impasse. You weren’t sure if you had gone to far, so you carried on in hopes that there was a chance he would understand. “I know that you’ve only ever had to take care of yourself when it comes to your dad, so I don’t blame you for not understanding, but it’s...it’s different when there is someone else that depends on you. I mean, who am I to enjoy things like watching the stars or parties or hickeys when it’s my brother who has to pay for it?” JJ tightened his jaw, but nodded slowly. You stepped forward, taking his hands in yours. “Please, JJ, just-” You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Just give me some more time to figure everything out, alright? I want nothing more than to be able to stay with you tonight and just forget everything else, but I can’t. I just can’t.” You begged him with your eyes to understand. You didn’t want to finish this night the same way you had the last time you talked. Finally, JJ nodded, squeezing your hands. “I got you,” he said. “Thank you.” You started to take off the sweater he loaned to you but he shook his head. “It’s cold out there,” he said. “And you don’t know when it’ll rain.” You nodded, leaning up to give him a kiss on his cheek. Before you got back down from your toes, JJ grabbed your face for one last kiss. It may have been one last attempt to get you to stay, but you couldn’t. This was one whirlpool you couldn’t risk jumping into. You stepped back and left the room before he could say or do anything else. When you made it back to your car, you felt like crying. Leaving JJ alone in that house felt like leaving a puppy on the side of the road. It felt wrong and it made you sick, but you couldn’t leave Kid to the wrath of your father, so before the tears had the chance to fall, you reversed and started the journey back home.

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj obx #jj x oc #john b obx #pope heyward #pope obx #kiara outer banks #kie #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #outer banks #obx #series

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richietoaster · 5 years ago

Text

As I Am, You Understand

reddie

words: 2,217

playlist

AO3 LINK

me writing tooth rotting fluff impulsively and posting at 3:30am? more likely than you think

READ BELOW IF YOU DONT MIND IT BEING UNFORMATTED

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Richie has a date. It’s not his first date, but it’s the first time he’s felt alive in a long time. He makes sure to shower double the time he usually does, scrubbing his body with his dad’s Sandalwood and Eucalyptus bodywash, and, fuck it, he even conditions his hair too.

He feels like he’s in a movie and that’s how he knows he’s got it bad. Richie dances in the shower using the bottle as a microphone to sing loudly. He feels ignited- on fire. Honestly, it’s a surprise to him that he’s going on a date. To the fucking carnival. What kind of teen movie is this? Richie will be going to college with the love of his life type of shit? Actually, he thinks, that’s not a bad idea.

Richie doesn’t want to think about college, to be fair. He got accepted into UCLA, the best university ever, but all his mind consists of golden brown hair and eyes, consists of his best friend, the love of his life, and-- quite frankly, he’s not sure how Eddie said yes to a date with him. Him. Out of all people.

Richie looks over to his friends at the lunch table and throws a fry at Stanley’s face. “Any you fuckers goin’ to the carnival?” He says as Stan steals another off of Richie’s plate for payback. They’re all waiting for Eddie to get his lunch and come sit with them.

“Yeah, this weekend.” Bev responds, “Ben and I are going on a date.”

“Well, good for you for finally figuring out your feelings. It only took, what? Since the eighth grade?” Richie smirks at them. He supposes he’s not one to talk, since everyone under the sun except Eddie himself, knows about Richie’s crush on him.

“You are not one to talk,” Mike says with a pointed look.

“Y-Yeah,” Bill agrees, “Why don’t you ask Eddie to go with you?”

“Yeah, ask him on a date.” Ben shrugs. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“The worst?” Richie asks incredulously. He counts on his fingers, “Well, one, he could say no. Two, it could make him uncomfortable. Three, he might never talk to me again. Four, he could say no. And, five, he might never fucking talk to me again.”

Stan rolls his eyes, “You’re being dramatic. Just ask him, Rich. I’m positive you’ll get the answer you want.”

Richie shakes his head, “No, nope. Mhm-hmph. I am not asking Eddie.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide, staring right past Richie. Richie feels goosebumps on his arms immediately, because oh. Oh no.. That can’t be good.

Richie turns around and focuses his gaze on Eddie, who’s looking at him with a confused expression.

“Ask me what, Rich?”

Richie turns around to look at his friends for help, but they all exchange glances and get up to move to another table.

“Thanks, you guys. Yeah, love you too!” Richie calls after them.

“What was up with that?” Eddie asks, sitting down next to him, setting his tray on the table.

“I-.. Shit..” Richie breathes out a shaky breath. “I.. I.. we were talking about the town carnival this weekend.”

“Oh.. yeah, I heard it’s gonna be really fun this year.. But what does that have to do with-?” Eddie cuts himself off, and Richie can see the second it clicks for Eddie. “Richie, were you going to-?”

This time Richie cuts him off.“N-Not like that! I mean- or- or- unless you wanted to of course? I don’t know, I figured it could be fun- like the two of us! We always have fun together. And.. And like recently it seemed like things might be feeling different between us- like- like- I don’t know, like-” Eddie covers Richie’s mouth with his hand.

“Richie. Ask me.” Richie’s eyes widen. Eddie removes his hand from Richie’s mouth.

“Eds, will you be my date to the carnival this weekend?” Richie gulps, almost afraid of this just being a cruel, and very unfunny joke. Except, Eddie’s smiling wide, and straightening up.

“Of course I will, you big dummy.” He stands and picks his tray up. “I wasn’t planning on staying long, I actually wasn’t going to even stop by the table.. but I wanted to see you guys. I have to go to the library to work on a project, but..” Eddie bites his lip and Richie really feels like he’s in a cliche movie. “I’ll call you later?”

Richie can barely process what just happened, so he settles by answering with a weak nod.

“Great!” Eddie has a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “I’ll.. call you later, then.”

Richie watches Eddie walk away, and once he’s out of sight, he’s fist pumping the air.

And now it’s an hour before they’re supposed to meet and Richie’s heart is booming in his chest. Honestly, Richie feels like the world’s luckiest guy. Like, for real, how the fuck did he score a date with his best friend in the entire universe? The cutest boy in mankind? It’s completely unreal, if anyone were to ask him.

Richie arrives ten minutes early and sits on the wooden fence to wait for Eddie. He told Eddie earlier that he could come pick him up, but Eddie insisted on meeting up- claims it would be aesthetic, like an eighties movie. The cheeseball.

But as he checks his phone each passing minute, before he knows it, it’s almost an hour. And he’s about to leave, accept that it was in fact, a cruel and unfunny joke, but he hears his name being called out.

“Rich! Richie!” He can hear Eddie sounding out of breath as he gets closer.

“Did.. did you fucking run here?”

Eddie puts his hands on his knees to breathe easier and nods, “I.. I couldn’t find my phone.. Was gonna text you and.. tell you that I’d.. I’d be late…” He inhales deeply a few times after struggling to complete a sentence. Eddie finishes, “but I couldn’t find my phone.. And then my mom was yanno.. Sonia-ing it up..”

Richie stifles out a loud laugh, “Sonia-ing it up?”

“Yeah!” Eddie chuckles. “Her being like ‘don’t go out Eddie, air is bad.’ shit like that.”

“Air is bad..” Richie repeats and continues to laugh. Eddie grins at him and takes Richie’s hand, threading his fingers between his own.

“I’m glad I got you laughing.” Eddie admits.

“Why wouldn’t I laugh at that?”

The two walk in together, immediately going to the ticket booth and buying just enough to ride every ride if they wanted to. But their first stop is to the cheese fries.

“Because,” Eddie shrugs, finally responding. “I was afraid you’d be upset that I was late. I didn’t want you to think that I was-”

“-standing me up?”

“Yes, exactly. But, you know that wasn’t the case, now.”

“I’m not mad, Spaghetti. Can’t be mad at someone as cute as you.” Richie winks and Eddie’s face flushes.

“Yeah- actually, that reminds me- when did you start liking me? Because I’ve been literally pining over you for.. for.. At least freshman or sophomore year.” Eddie leads them both to a table nearby and they sit together.

“Hah,” Richie says, “I got you beat by at least a year or two. I’ve been in-” He coughs, “I’ve liked you since 8th grade when I accidentally made you trip in the hallway going to science class. You picked yourself up like it was nothing, and just smiled at me and said, ‘you’re lucky I like you’ with that little huff you do when you’re either annoyed or embarrassed.”

Eddie does the exact huff that Richie’s talking about and says, “I do not do that.”

Richie smirks at him.

“Oh, fuck off.” Eddie pauses and looks up at Richie through his eyelashes, and Richie thinks for a split second that Eddie might be debating on kissing him, but instead he continues, “I never expected in like, my wildest and probably wet dreams that you would ever like me back. But you were just babbling on and on at lunch and it just.. It just clicked for me. I figured if I didn’t help you out, you’d have a fucking stroke, so, there’s that. You’re welcome.”

“Okay first of all- wet dreams, huh? You have wet dreams about me, do you?” Eddie pushes at his shoulder and chuckles. “Okay, okay!” A quick pause. “And second of all, I wasn’t gonna have a stroke, thank you.”

“Oh, no. You definitely were. And then you had the audacity to be like ‘but it can be a date if you want it to be’ like? Have you not been with me in the same situations the past two weeks? I swear.. We both almost confessed feelings multiple times.”

“When we were in your bed a few nights ago, your head was on my chest and I was actually terrified you were gonna wake up to the sound of it beating so loud.” Richie tells him, “You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you then.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, actually.” Eddie admits. And then they’re both quiet, staring at one another, not sure if they’re supposed to make the first move or not. The moment passes, and Eddie stands up, the empty box of fries in his hand. “I’m gonna throw this away real quick.”

“Yeah, no, go ahead.”

And then Eddie’s returning seconds later to grab at his hand, “Come on, let’s get in line for the Ferris Wheel.”

Richie groans, “But the Ferris Wheel always has the longest line!”

“Stop complaining.”

“Fineeee,” Richie says.

“You’re so dramatic,” Eddie laughs. “Speaking of which, are you excited about UCLA? I know it must’ve been hard picking your major. But I’m glad you went with Theater. You’re an amazing performer.”

Richie is silent for a minute. He was really hoping they would stay away from the topic. He’s terrified of the future. “I.. thanks, honestly. It’s.. It’s so weird, you know? That graduation is literally in like, a month. We have the summer.. Together.. And with our friends.. But then everyone is off to college. It’s kinda scary, Eds. Don’t you think?”

“Well, not really, since we all got accepted into schools in California. I think it’s pretty great. We’ll be closer than you realize. And.. I’ve kept it from you for so long, but.. I got accepted into the University of Southern California.” Eddie smiles softly at him.

“Eds.. holy shit, that is literally like a twenty minute drive from UCLA.. did you fuckin’ plan that?”

“No,” Eddie laughs, “But it is super convenient, right?”

“Don’t think for a minute I won’t be spending every second I can with you. You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“Next!” The ride operator interrupts their conversation and holds on his hand for the tickets, which Eddie hands him.

They get in the cart and the guy slams the cart’s gate shut, locking the side. “Keep your arms, legs, hands, and feet, inside the car at all times. Have fun.”

They stay quiet for a few minutes, two times around the Ferris Wheel, and then Richie speaks.

“I was actually afraid you guys would like. I don’t know. Want better friends than me in college.”

Eddie looks at him, “Rich, you know that’s absolutely crazy, yeah? We could never want to replace you.”

“That’s not what I said,” Richie grumbles.

“It’s what you meant.” Eddie retorts. “But that would never happen. We’re all gonna have the time of our fucking lives in California together. Crashing each other’s dorms parties-”

“-you’re gonna be a pariter? Yeah, okay, right.”

“New school year, new state, new me!”

“It’s not New Year’s, Eds.” Richie chuckles.

“Might as well be. Anyway, the point is we’re all gonna be together.. and.. And most importantly,” Eddie links their fingers together, “We get to be together.”

“Aren’t we together right now? I mean-” The Ferris Wheel stops and they’re at the very top. “Do you want to be together? More than friends?”

“Finally you’re getting the hint.”

Richie chokes on his own spit. “Well, I- me too. I want that to.”

“Good,” Eddie rests his head on Richie’s shoulder. “Then that’s what we are. Together. Boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends.” Richie breathes.

“And it’ll be better when we’re out of buttfuck Derry, and in literally one of the most beautiful places in the world.” Eddie says.

“Good.”

“Good,” Eddie agrees, “because like I said, you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, Rich.”

“Well, then I don’t plan on going anywhere, so I guess you’ll just have to get used to the fact that I’m gonna be in your future.”

Eddie pauses for a moment, lifting his head off of Richie’s shoulder, “Well.. then, here’s to the future.”

Without missing a beat, Richie looks down and tilts Eddie’s chin up. “No.. Here's to right now,” and leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, Eddie’s hand reaching up to cup Richie’s cheek. Their mouths move slow and in sync together.

And, yeah, their future may be important, as graduation is slowly approaching and college is nearing closer, but so is this moment.

This moment is the start to a beautiful beginning; their beginning.

-----------------------------------------

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#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019 #my writing #sara writes

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lukneetoonz · 5 years ago

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From Across The Room

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Summary: Shinsou spots you from across the room, and suddenly there’s nothing else he wants more in the world.

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking (be responsible pls), mentions of uncomfortable touching situations,

Word Count: 1,698

A/N: This is a special for getting to 100 followers!! Loosely based on the song ‘Dance, Baby!’ By Boy Pablo, ‘Strangers in The Night’ by Frank Sinatra, and ‘Beautiful’ by Bazzi. Tbh at this point I should just make a playlist so you guys could have some bangers. But in all seriousness, thank you all for the love and support lately, it’s meant a lot. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it’s meant. I love you all 🥺👉👈

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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Shinsou Hitoshi was not a partier. If it was up to him, he’d be home playing video games, eating chips and drinking a bang energy until he could hear the birds chirp beyond his black out curtains. But here he was, sitting on a couch next to his blonde friend that was practically having sex with a random girl he met with horrible music playing in the background. Drink in hand, Shinsou looked up at the makeshift dance floor only to have his breath taken away by a girl he could swear was an angel on this god forsaken earth. You were dancing with some of your friends, smiling as you tried to sing along to the song the best you could.

As you were blissfully unaware of the lilac colored eyes watching your form in fondness, a man approached you from behind and gripped onto your hips and pulled you into him to dance, the action making Shinsou scowl. What was he thinking? Of course a beautiful girl like you would have many others pining after you, he’s sure you wouldn’t even look in direction. Hell, the only reason people know his name is because he’s friends with Kaminari and Midoryia, and not by choice. Ever since becoming a pro-hero, he decided to take Aizawa’s route and go underground because he could care less about fame and attention, he just cared about helping people.

Shinsou was lost in his thoughts; he didn’t even notice your own look of discomfort as you tried to nudge the guy away unsuccessfully. The indigo haired man only noticed when he heard your soft voice speak up, even if it should have gone unnoticed with the background noise, he noticed. “Let go of me.” Was all you had to say for the young pro hero to stand up and be by your side in an instant. Towering over both you and the Male he raised an eyebrow, “Why are you still here if she said to let go?” His deep voice got your attention and you couldn’t believe your long time crush came to your rescue.

You had gone to UA, but you were in the support course and you still did support hero work, in fact you worked with Kirishima. Kirishima would actually have you help the other pro hero’s a lot too since your quirk came in handy a lot of times; you were able to see anything damaged or weakened just by looking at it. So you could easily tell a person's injuries or see what’s wrong with their costume and fix it faster than anyone. Because of this, you had known Kaminari quite well, since he was a little clumsy sometimes and he needed help to figure out what was wrong with his gadgets and you never hesitated to help, because sometimes shinsou would be there and you’d sneak a peak at him.

That’s why when he was towering over you with such an intimidating look, your whole body froze. Heat rushing to (S/C) cheeks as you couldn’t even force yourself to look away. After years of pining he actually noticed your presence? Shaking your emotions off you focus on the situation before you, subconsciously moving closer to the purple eyed boy. “Man you know how crazy bitches can be! She was grinding on me and then just got all weird, Cmon just walk away and we both avoid trouble” the man's words make you want to vomit as you looked at Shinsou with terrified eyes, which merely confirmed to him what he was already thinking.

Nodding he sighed before grabbing your waist and pulling you away fully from the man and anyone who truly knew Shinsou would say he was practically seething with anger, even if he came off calm and collected. “I’ll only say this one time, ‘man’, so listen good. If I ever catch you touching a woman when she doesn’t want it, I’ll personally break both of your hands in ways you never knew. Now, turn around and go home before I second guess my decision on letting you go.” The man didn’t even reply and just mutely listened to Shinsou so you only assumed there were quirks involved.

Turning, you moved to fully face Shinsou and smiled shyly, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you… Uh for helping me…” A lazy smirk found itself on Shinsou’s face as he shrugged, hand still on your waist. “It was nothing, I see a beautiful woman in danger and I help, it’s what I do.” (E/C) eyes flew up to meet his as your face heated up, “Wh- beautiful? Did you, Shinsou Hitoshi, call me beautiful?” Your knowledge of him seemed to shock him as he raised his eyebrows at you and tilted his head, “You know who I am?” Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you nodded shyly, not even being able to find the right words to answer him.

Shinsou himself gulped as he stared at you, not liking how his eyes drifted to your lips. The beating of his heart was loud in his ears as he thought about how you knew him, yet you still didn’t shy away from his touch. With a quirk that’s been called villainous, Shinsou has been judged most of his life. It didn’t help with his personality being cocky and seemingly self centered, so when you smiled at him while saying his name, it’s like he was housing a butterfly garden in his stomach. “I-I went to UA too… except I was in the support course… but I always admired your determination to be a hero. It’s very reputable.”

Okay now he was just gonna slap himself. You went to UA? How could he have not noticed you!? Yet you noticed him, not only did you notice him but you admired him! A blush spread across his pale skin, as his focus was on you and only you. “What’s your name? I mean, it’s only fair since you know mine” Now your heart beat was rapid as you played with your clothing. “You can call me Y/N…” Y/N… what a beautiful name, and it fit you so well. Replaying it over in his head, he chuckled a little before saying it out loud. “Y/N… I like it.”

If you died in that second, you wouldn’t care. Shinsou Hitoshi, likes your name. Oh god you’re going back to your highschool ways… although highschool you would have probably fainted already or ran away screaming. “I like you too- wait no- I mean I like it too. Not you too!” Shit, you were so weird. He’s gonna hate you and talk about you to Kaminari who’s gonna tell everyone- “Man, and here I wanted to take you out. But I only take out the ones who like me” he smirked smugly, making you choke on air. “Really?” Shinsou chuckled, nodding his head as he traced your jawline with his finger. “Really really.”

“Then boy do I like you , I've liked you since highschool!” Maybe that was too much information, but you wanted- no needed that date. Shinsou smiled softly and blushed, grabbing his phone and opening contacts handing you the device, “Well, I'm gonna need your number then” nodding, you grabbed his phone and put in your information, gulping as you couldn’t believe this was happening. “Y/N C'mon you’re our DD!!” Damn your friends for ruining your moment. Damn them to the seven circles of hell. Honestly, you debated on acting like you didn’t know them but they came and draped themselves onto you, making Shinsou chuckle. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

*•*

After having to take care of your drunk friends you finally walked into your own place and sighed happily, going and changing into pajamas. As you flopped into your bed, your phone buzzed and you saw an unknown number had texted you and you pulled it up, furrowing your eyebrows as you forgot everything that happened.

Shinsou: ‘Hey, it’s Shinsou :)’

Oh my god. He texted you. He actually wants to know you. Before you could even respond you noticed that he texted you basically right after you left the party, which was hours ago. You ruined everything, he must hate you. How could you have not noticed that he texted? Dragging you out of your thoughts was the buzz of your phone, looking down you saw the miracle of a double text.

Shinsou: ‘I hope this isn’t too weird, but did you get home okay?’

He’s so sweet you might just die. Smiling softly, you let your thumbs move as you typed a response back to the handsome pro hero. You saved his name to a new contact, chuckling at the name as you were unaware of the name he had made yours.

You: ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t see your text! But yes, I just got home! I had to take care of those toddlers I call friends XD’

On the other side of the phone, the indigo haired boy took a breath of relief seeing you were okay because ‘Angel’ responded to his texts, and didn’t block him for double texting. Shinsou Hitoshi was happy for the first time in a while, hoping that he would be able to keep your presence in his life for a long time to come.

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #shinsou x y/n #mha shinsou #shinsou headcanons #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou imagine #shinsoubnha #shinsou smut #shinsou x reader #shinsou x kaminari #bnha shinso hitoshi #mha hitoshi #hitoshi shinso imagine #shinsouhitoshiimaginedarlingely

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

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Stranger (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Fluff, College!AU

Summary: While at a party you were forced to attend, you meet a mysterious stranger having fun by himself in the corner.

Inspo: A Tiktok by Designer_eyebags that has suddenly disappeared, it was too cute for me not to write honestly.

Word count: 2,476

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: When I tell you I'm a sucker for casual Todo esp Todo in a beanie?? Ded

College!AU for Todoroki finally! It was honestly about time! Though, I feel like I could’ve done better with it, I wasn’t really sure where I wanted to take it so I just let it take me I guess? But I think it's still pretty cute, so that's gotta count for something, right?

I've got another Baku scenario planned, and then a Midoriya one right after that (or I might reverse the order since I have the beginning of the Midoriya one written already). Also thanks again for 300 followers! Yall might be getting a surprise at 400, depends on when I finish these next few scenarios.

Buy me a coffee?

I don't want to be here at this party, but Ochaco told me I need to loosen up. And she's tired of me whining about how single I am. "Then do something about it!" she exclaimed, "Get out there and find someone! You won't meet anyone if you stay in the same rut!" She's lucky, she already has a boyfriend. At first glance, he's a complete pushover, but he seems to be a social person. At least, social enough to have friends who host dorm parties, apparently. So here I am, in a stranger's dorm with colored lights and obnoxiously loud music.

The funniest thing about this entire party, though, is this random person I've been watching. The music in the room is bumping to some EDM tracks, but this guy's having a blast in the corner of the room. He's off in his own world, headphones on, swaying and mouthing the lyrics to whatever's playing, which might be more melodious judging by how much slower his head nods are.

Honestly, relatable.

I would've thought he was just drunk or on some really good drugs, but his movements are structured enough to show he still has coordination. I'll admit, the way he's dancing around like no one's watching is pretty endearing. He seems like a pretty fun guy to be around, I should go talk to him. Ochaco abandoned me for her boyfriend, and this is my way of finding someone else, I guess.

I approach him slowly. It would be a stupid idea to tap on his shoulder and interrupt him, I don't really want to break his flow. I settle for standing by quietly, close enough for him to notice I'm staring right at him, but far enough so I don't break up his single-man party.

It takes him a while to notice me. The music bleeding from his white headphones even in this loud environment tells me he's really trying to drown everyone else out. His eyes are closed as his had bobs around, silently mouthing the lyrics to a familiar Top 40's song I've heard on the radio. His casual outfit consists of black jeans, a half-white-half-black hoodie over a black T-shirt, gray Converse, and a matching beanie. His hair on the side facing me is scarlet red, but from his movements, I can see the other side is snow white.

My lips quirk into a small smile as I continue to watch him entertain himself. I probably look like a creep, just watching some other weirdo doing their thing in the corner. I can't help it, he looks absolutely adorable, not to mention just a smidge familiar.

His eyes open for a brief moment just so he can blink and he double takes at me, freezing up and jolting backward. He slides the headphones down around his neck and looks around before scratching his head. "Hi... " he offers a slight wave. "Was I bothering you?"

Now that he fully faces me, I notice he has two different colored eyes, and his features are sharply handsome, contrasting the staple casual soft-boy aesthetic of his outfit and his awkward speech. "Not at all," I shrug, collecting my thoughts, "You seem like you're having the time of your life, so I thought I'd join you."

A slight blush coats his cheeks as he buries his hands in his jeans pockets. "I apologize. Perhaps what I was doing was distracting and inappropriate."

He's so prim and proper, it's adorable. "No worries, no one was staring other than me," I assure him, leaning against the wall. "So, why are you jamming all alone over here instead of being with your friends?"

"Ah, my roommate is spending time with his girlfriend right now, I don't really want to pry into their business." He scratches the back of his neck nervously.

I sigh. "Yeah, same here. Your roommate wouldn't happen to be a Midoriya, would it?"

He blinks. "As a matter of fact, he is."

"Wow, small world." That really is a coincidence. Can't say I was expecting to meet the roommate of my best friend's boyfriend, let alone find him alluring in some way.

The boy is silent for a moment. "Honestly, I'm sleepy, but I lost the key to my room, so I have to wait for Midoriya. I don't even have my wallet, unfortunately." He fingers one side of the headphones. "This is the only way to keep myself awake and occupied until he's ready to leave."

"I'd say you have guts to be listening to your own music at a party. You must have a pretty great playlist."

He tilts his head to the side. "I'm just not fond of this sort of music, it nauseates me."

"I feel that. This, in general," I motion to all the happenings around us, "Isn't really my scene. I'd rather be in my dorm alone."

He nods in agreement. "Me too. If it wasn't for me losing my dorm key, I would have already gone back."

Now that I've called attention to it, we really have drowned out the world around us, as if there was a bubble and I just popped it to return us to the present. There's this magnetism between us to keep to ourselves, despite the awkwardness of this being our first encounter.

I kick off from the wall and face him. "If you wanna hurry out of here, we can go somewhere else to talk. Or if you wanna go eat, I can pay for you, it's no big deal."

For the first time in our conversation, he turned to look at me head-on. "Really?" he cocks an eyebrow, "We've only just met, do trust me that much?"

I offer an amiable smile. "You seem like someone I'd like to get to know."

We walk into the darkness of campus at night, talking about nothing in particular. Whatever random question that popped into my mind was whatever I asked him. He's a quiet one, very hesitant about opening up and answering my questions more than what I've asked. I guess I like how mysteriously awkward he is, it's cute. Normally, I'm not one to talk either, but when it comes to someone who's even less of a talker than me, I take the lead just to make them comfortable.

His name is Shouto Todoroki, he's in the same year as me, a business major because his father wants him to take over the family company. He's the youngest of his siblings, his parents are separated, and he's a cat person.

Finally reaching a diner just a block off campus, I instinctively stroll up to the counter. At first he stands behind me, unsure what to do as he stares at the seat next to me. I eye him with another smile. "I guess you've never sat at the counter before?" At the shake of his head, I pat the stool to my right. "Come on up, it's not that different from sitting in a booth."

Slowly, he hoists himself up onto the seat and rotates over to face me. "Do you come here often?"

"Sort of, I'm alone most of the time. I don't usually come this late though. After my classes, I would come here because I love their burgers. I like sitting here to just do some homework."

The waitress gives us the menu and takes our drink orders. The diner is empty this time of night, save for a group of probably drunk students from our college and a truck driver at the other end of the counter across the room.

"What do you feel like eating?" I ask.

Todoroki's staring at the menu in great thought, holding his chin with one hand. "Maybe a sandwich. Or a pasta dish, I'm not sure yet."

"I think..." I scan over the menu. I'm not that hungry per se, I just wanted to get out of that party with this adorable stranger. "I'm gonna have a bowl of soup. It'll warm me up after being in the cold outside." I rub my cold hands together and tuck them inside the sleeves of my sweater.

The boy glances down at my hands before his cheeks blush slightly. He tries to hide it by rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like me to...hold them for you? I've been told I have pretty warm hands..."

It's my turn to blush now. "Sure, thanks."

He stretches out his left hand onto the table, tentatively covering my clasped hands. Surprisingly, I find his hand is large, able to surround both of mine entirely. And they're pretty muscular, I'd say. "Your hands are pretty warm," I comment, almost dumbly.

He nods wordlessly in response.

Our shoulders almost brush because of how close I'm leaning to him. I'm close enough to smell his fresh scent coming off his jacket.

The waitress returns with our drinks and startles us into ripping our hands away from each other, bumping shoulders in the process. She takes our orders on her pad before smiling at us. "Aw, you two look so cute together," she coos and walks away before we can correct her.

Suddenly I don't know what I should say now.

"What made you come here one day?" Todoroki asks, his cheeks brushed pink. I appreciate his attempt at making things less awkward.

"I like having comfort food, I guess." I stir the straw in my water. "I get easily overwhelmed and homesick, so I like eating my feelings in a way."

His hands cup his warm mug of tea. "I can't say I agree with that. I wanted to get away from home. It was suffocating there."

"That must be difficult." Out of reflex, I raise my hand to pat his shoulder, stopping myself right before I can touch him. "I'm sorry-"

"I don't mind it," he blurts out quickly. "But only if you're comfortable."

I chuckle at his eagerness and rest my hand there. "We've become somewhat awkward again, huh?"

"Should I ask some questions, then? Since you were doing that earlier."

"Sure, go ahead."

Todoroki's questions were difficult to get out. He didn't ask as many as me since he thought very carefully before asking them. They weren't typical small talk questions you would ask someone you just met; they were thought-provoking, which I admit is something I appreciate way more. His last question was to discuss what would be the most important items to have you were stranded on a space mission with a group of people.

"Why wouldn't you want a flare gun? It could help the home base locate you from the light."

"Yes, normally, but it wouldn't work the same in anti-gravity space," Todoroki explains monotonously. "Though, the force of the shot would at least allow you to propel you in a certain direction if you're floating around aimlessly."

"You have a point. But we agree that rope, oxygen tank, and water are definitely essential for survival."

The waitress sets our food in front of us. Todoroki ended up getting a vegetarian panini just because he didn't really want any meat tonight.

"Will you be satisfied with just that soup?" he eyes my bowl carefully.

I start ripping at the toasted bread on the side and dip one into my tomato soup. "Yeah, I'm not terribly hungry, and I haven't had this soup in a long time."

We eat in a somewhat comfortable silence. I feel like we've gotten to know each other pretty well, but there's still the awkwardness surrounding us. Nothing really told me why he was so familiar to me at the party either. I don't really remember him at any of the previous outings I was forced to attend.

Todoroki puts down his mostly eaten sandwich. "I must...confess something. I-"

"Are you a creepy stalker?" I casually joke, dipping my spoon into the soup.

His face turns blank and the life drains from his eyes. "N-No! Not at-!"

I shove him lightly. "I'm just joking! You look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?"

Color returns to his face as he looks down at his unfinished burger and fries. "I've...been to a couple parties with Midoriya before, and I admit I've seen you already. To say you never caught my attention is a lie. Actually, I...hoped to see you every time he offered me to join him."

I'm frozen in place, my cheeks heating up at the implication. "Does that mean you've taken an interest in me?"

He inhales carefully. "Yes, I have."

"So...you'd like to see me outside of parties then?"

"Yes." He rubs his hands together. "We could even come back here, if you'd like."

"I wouldn't mind that." I avert my eyes away from him, ashamed to be shy like this. "But next time, you're trying a burger here."

His chuckle reminds me of the tinkle of wind chimes, except deeper. "It's a date."

I can't stop myself from smiling, my heart skipping a beat at the word. Wow, I actually found someone decent at a stupid college party.

We finish the rest of our meal in silence again, and I paid as I promised. It felt like we were holding back a secret from everyone else in the diner. We just started dating in the middle of our first meal together, how cute is that?

We leave and start heading back to the dorms, keeping a distance between us. Neither of us really know what to say after a sudden change in relationship status like that.

Todoroki coughs awkwardly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to warm your hands up again. Only if you're okay with it."

That's such a cute way of asking to hold hands, I gush inwardly. I close the distance between us, allowing him to gently grip one of my hands in his. He tucks our joined hands inside his hoodie pocket, pulling me closer to him. It feels like I'm walking on clouds.

He walks me to the front of my building. He'd gotten a text from Midoriya that he's back at their room and will open the door for him when he returns. "Thank you for the meal." His eyes express his gratitude clearly as he stands in front of me. "It was more enjoyable with your company."

"Don't mention it. It was great having someone to talk to." I realize I've unnaturally used my left hand to brush my hair behind my ear because my right hand is still in his pocket. Standing so close to him makes me nervous.

Todoroki lifts our joined hands to place a feather-light kiss on my knuckles. "I look forward to next time," his low voice resonates smooth as butter, eyes boring into mine.

I can't meet them for very long after, breaking eye contact with him sheepishly. "M-Me too."

#todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #college!AU #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #gender neutral reader #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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illeee-girl · 3 years ago

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La La(chimolala) Land Chapter Two: Over My Iced Vanilla Latte

jimin x reader genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff word count: 1.5k warnings: none

[Inspired by La La Land]

Read on Wattpad

Read on Ao3

“I still don’t understand,” Jessenia says, stopping in between generous applications of mascara to shoot you a doubtful look. “You met some Korean tourist dude on the top of City Hall, just gave him a copy of Red Writer, and now you’re meeting him at a Starbucks to hear his feedback?”

You attempt to square your shoulders, though it doesn’t quite work. Your roommate—sweet as she is—can be a little intimidating. “That’s about the size of it.”

“That’s about the size of it,” she mocks. “Listen to yourself! You sound just like Sybil from Downton Abbey.”

“Life goal achieved, then.”

Jessenia lets out a heavy sigh. “I just can’t believe you literally handed a complete stranger a copy of your work. He could totally just steal it! Sell it to a film studio, or make a movie out of it himself—”

“That seems a little unlikely, seeing as how I’m unable to sell it to anyone.” She walks over to where you sit on your bed, completely interrupting her makeup routine. Now you know it’s serious. “Y/N. I’m only telling you this because I love you. Be careful. You don’t know squat about this guy.” “I do indeed! I’ve watched him walk away. He definitely does squats.” If you’d delivered that line in any other situation, Jessenia would have been doubled over in laughter. You always made her laugh. But this time, it didn’t have that effect. She sashayed over to her closet, digging through halter dresses and high heels. She had an audition that afternoon. “Don’t let some cute butt distract you from the reason you came to LA.” You suppress a laugh—but not a smile. “Jess,” you start, forcing yourself to be serious. “You’ve known me since college. You know I’ve never let anything—let alone anyone—distract me. This is just . . . I don’t know, Jess, it feels like a breakthrough. An outsider’s perspective will be helpful. Maybe he’ll give me an idea for something—something good—that’ll finally sell Red Writer.” “Maybe,” she responds, “though he sounds like just a himbo to me.” “We don’t know squat about him, remember?” She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Even himbos can do squats, Y/N. Boy ever can they do them.” _________________________ The Metro ride downtown is longer than you remember—probably because you don’t have a manuscript to pour over to pass the time. Jimin has the only print copy of Red Writer. That fact—and Jessenia’s words—make you more than a little anxious. Sure, you’ve got soft copies backed up on your hard drive and files placed on approximately 5 USB drives—you’re not stupid—but him having the paper manuscript feels a little . . . strange. Out of place. Intimate, almost. No pantsuit this time. There’s no need for it. This isn’t a business meeting—at least, not technically. You opted for a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a pastel purple t-shirt, and a whitewashed denim jacket. It’s not a bad look on you. But when you walk down the Grand Park stairs and spot him through the fountain, you realize you’ve greatly underestimated the level of fashion called for in the situation. He’s in ripped, black jeans; a thin, white shirt that somehow looks both loose and form-fitting; and a silvery-gray leather jacket. And he’s wearing jewelry—a Harry Styles amount of jewelry. Stud earrings. A black Chanel necklace. Rings on almost every finger. Like before, you think: Who is this guy? He sees you across the way and waves. Too late to turn back and try to throw together a better outfit. You’re suddenly mindful of how bulky your denim jacket is, but why should it matter? You fit in with the crowd of Californians much better, while he sticks out like a sore thumb in that getup. A surprisingly sexy sore thumb. Never mind that. You’re the writer in this situation. You’re the one who’s created something amazing. He’s just the reader. Assert your dominance, Y/N.

“Hey,” he says as you approach. “Love the jacket.” “Thanks. Nice . . .” you trail off, gesturing at him awkwardly, not sure where to look. “Nice outfit.” “You don’t think it’s too much?” “You look like you should be riding horses down Rodeo Drive with Usher.” He puts a hand over his heart. “You have no idea how much of a compliment that is for me.” Enough chitchat. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky, and you don’t particularly want to have to ride the Metro home in the dark. Besides, you’re starting to look at him—like, really look at him. And you think—though you figure you’re probably mistaken—that he’s starting to look at you. “Want a drink?” He asks. “I’m buying.” “Too late in the day for caffeine,” you respond. You need to make this as fast as possible. “Then get a decaf, or a tea.” He opens the door to the Starbucks, leaving you no choice. Once you get your drinks, you pick a table back outside; the weather’s too nice to pass up the opportunity. Besides, whoever’s running that Starbucks chose to play mood music over the loudspeaker. Quite the departure from the ambient, helps-you-focus stuff they usually go for, you think. The current playlist, in the current situation, with the current company, will surely not foster productivity. “So, what comments do you have about Red Writer? Is Marianne too headstrong? Are the bandmates too stereotypical? Is it too early 2000s to appeal to a modern audience?” He holds up a hand. “Whoa, slow down. I have yet to touch my Americano.” You decide to be straight with him. “I don’t have time to prioritize coffee over work. Every second that passes, someone else gets closer to becoming a successful screenwriter, and I lag behind while they take my place at the writer’s table—” “Whoa there. Take a sip of that iced vanilla latte, and breathe.” You do as he says, but not without rolling your eyes. After a swig, you look down at your cup. You have to look somewhere. The setting sun’s starting to backlight his blonde hair. It’s as if nature’s purposefully trying to complement his beauty. “I loved it,” he says softly. You look up. He’s smiling, and it’s real. It’s genuine. He isn’t teasing. “You do?” “Are you kidding?” His dark eyes light up as he begins to recount the plot of your screenplay. “Nerdy college girl is a journalist by day, songwriter by night. Her best friend’s in a small band from the Valley, and she basically begs this friend to let her write their lyrics, so she can get experience points. The band absolutely takes off, and the girl gets tons of gigs as a lyricist for struggling performers who’ve recently signed with big labels—only to find out that her real dream is to sit in coffee shops and play the simple, acoustic music she writes herself, just to uplift and relax people.” It takes you a minute to register that he’s praising your work. You’d forgotten what that felt like. It’d been years since someone had given you positive feedback—outside of your close inner circle of family members and roommates, that is. Panel after panel of producers had taken one glance, said “no,” and put your manuscripts through the shredder. But no more. Someone not only liked what you’d written. He loved it. “I devoured it in one night. Couldn’t go to bed until I finished it.” “That’s how I felt when I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time!” “Nerd.” You choose to disregard that last little comment. Someone felt the same way about your work as you’d felt about Jane Austen’s. I’ve made it! “I just have one little criticism.” Uh oh. Here it came. “What’s that?” “Your description of the bandmates . . . it’s not accurate at all.” _________________________ “So let me get this straight,” the manager of the Starbucks in Grand Park stared Park Jimin in the eye. “You’ll pay me how much to play this CD?” “You heard what I said,” responded the fashionable, blonde Korean man standing on the other side of the counter. “And I’ve got cash.” The manager shook his head, but acquiesced. “Okay, man. I’d be a fool not to do it, I guess. You know how much cannabis that kind of money can get me?” Jimin chose to ignore that last little bit. “One question, though. Why? What you’ve got written on here seems pretty standard. Chris Brown, Boyz II Men. . .” “It’s . . . none of your concern.” Jimin ran a hand through his hair, looking a little nervous. “But since you’re being so kind, I’ll tell you this much: it’s undoubtedly worth it.”

#bts fanfiction #btsfanfic #bts #BTS jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #La La(chimolala) Land #inspired by La La Land

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 31]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Still feeling unmotivated. I’ve got to get this presentation done though.

Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

“It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

“He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

“Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

“You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

“Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

“Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

“I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

“Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

15080

“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

15412

“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

“Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

“What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

15810

Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

“What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

“I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Pat smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

“You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

“Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

He dithered from a few moments before following Pat inside. Pat had already struck up a conversation with the woman charging admission into art museum. She was looking at him, her brow knit as he spoke. Janus nudged him away from her getting a confused glance from him in return. He shot a smile at the woman.

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Janus said. “It’s a legitimate issue. The wrong person who’s watched too much science fiction notices and you’re putting the timeline at risk. Not to mention if there are other time travelers around that aren’t as nice as me.”

“Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

“Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

Pat glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “It would be a much bigger risk to the timeline than me speaking in French from the 1830s. But, I’m pretty sure the reason mine still works is just a software difference.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

Pat opened his mouth, doubtlessly to supply him with yet another frustratingly cheeky and unhelpful answer. Yet, Pat did not have a chance to do so as, just as Janus stepped onto the second floor of the museum, the ground started to violently shake. Janus tried to turn to catch Pat as the other man’s foot slipped on the last step, but he couldn’t do so in time. Pat fell onto his hands and knees, sliding back a few steps and smacking his face into the stairs hard once and then a couple of times more after that as he slid.

Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

“Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Pat’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

“Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Chapter 14

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

Pat was snapping photos every so often like a tourist which Janus shook his head at but allowed because even with the outdated phone it almost made them blend in even more. It also might stop any questions about Pat’s weird way of speaking French. They could just say he was an overeager tourist who watched too many old movies.

“Ooo!” Pat said. “We should get crepes.”

“Why?”

“You can’t go to France and not eat crepes.”

“I assure you, you can,” Janus said dryly.

Pat shot a pout at him and the next thing he knew he was in a small crepe shop.

For Janus, choosing something was easy. He just ordered the first thing he found on the menu which seemed to be a standard one with ham and eggs. Pat on the other hand seemed to be struggling greatly, and Janus had to gently push him to the side to let some other customers order first.

“What should I get!?” Pat asked. “They all look so good! I could do strawberry preserves or maple syrup or just sugar!”

“Or you could get one that is actually food,” Janus suggested mildly. “I don’t think you need any more sugar judging by how you are acting.”

Pat rolled his eyes. “You sound like Lo.”

Janus made a note of the name ‘Lo’ even though it surely was a nickname.

“But, since you’re insisting, I’ll get something healthy. I’ll have the strawberry one. That’s a fruit!”

“It comes with a cream cheese filling,” Janus pointed out.

“And it’s fruit!”

Janus shook his head and stepped up to the counter. “One ham and cheese and one strawberry preserve, please,” he said to the cashier as he was not allowing Pat to order in French and accidently say something stupid. He forked over some euros.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Pat protested when he saw that.

Janus glanced back at him. “I was afraid you’d try to pay in francs,” he said dryly.

It looked like Pat was about to stick his tongue out at him, remembered that Janus had criticized him for that earlier, and then just scrunched up his face in displeasure as though that was any less childish.

They waited for their crepes to be finished and then went to eat them outside near a water fountain.

“I can pay you back for the crepe,” Pat said after they sat down. “I do actually have euros.”

Janus waved him off. “It wasn’t that expensive.”

Pat hummed. “Well, in that case. I insist on paying for a wish for you.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “In the fountain!” Pat clarified.

Pat set aside his crepe to dig in his pocket for a couple of coins. “Here!” he said handing one over.

Janus glanced over at the fountain. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Pat beseeched. “You have to want something. I’ll even throw it in for you, but you have to make a wish first!”

“No.”

“Please!”

Janus sighed. “Fine.” He popped the rest of his crepe in his mouth. “I wish for a crepe,” he said after swallowing.

“You just had a crepe, silly.”

“But I liked it, so I want another one.”

“We can go back and get you another crepe.”

“Ah, but I’m not hungry anymore.”

Pat crossed his arms. “You’re just being difficult on purpose.”

“Not me,” Janus said putting hand over his heart. “I would never do something like that.”

Pat glared at him, but then snatched the coin out of his hand. “Fine!” he said. “One crepe wish coming right up.” He hopped up with the two coins and darted over to the water fountain. Janus turned to watch him go but then happened to catch sight of something out of the corner of his eyes.

Pat’s phone.

He didn’t pause in his movement, completing the turn, but as he watched Pat close his eyes, presumably to focus on his own wish, Janus snuck a hand out and grabbed the phone without looking. He slipped it into his own pocket.

Pat came back over after throwing both coins in the fountain and didn’t even seem to notice that his phone was missing, picking up his crepe to take another bite. Just to make sure, though Janus decided to distract him. “What do you think of your crepe?” Janus asked.

“I like it! It’s sweet, but not too sweet. There was a crepe place across the street from my apartment in college, but they always put a bit too much sugar in the dough, I think. I’d still eat them, but these are much better.”

Janus nodded and kept up the light conversation until Pat was finished.

21088

“Well,” he said then, getting to his feet. “It seems that nothing else is going to happen regarding the time distortion. I should be getting back.”

Pat hummed. “I should too. It’s movie night!”

“I probably should arrest you,” Janus noted.

“In the middle of all of these people?” Pat asked mildly.

“Touché,” Janus said.

Pat gasped and pointed at him. “Pun!” he said. Janus blinked at him. “Because we’re in France! That’s French!”

“…Goodbye Pat,” Janus said, turning to walk away from him.

“Goodbye… wait I still don’t know your name!”

Janus stopped to look back at him for a moment. “Like I said,” he replied. “Elvis.”

“Fine,” Pat said. “Au revoir, mon chéri.”

“You never stop, do you?” Janus asked.

Pat giggled. “Considering I don’t know what you mean, I imagine I’m just getting started.”

Janus actually left then, walking off towards the alley he’d first arrived in. In some ways, the mission had been a bust, but in others it had gone very well.

He felt for the weight of the phone in his pocket before pulling up the display screen on his timepiece to go back to the TPI.

It had gone very well indeed.

Chapter 15

The first thing Janus had done when he’d returned to the TPI was hand over the timebomb to Khalid who sent it to forensics. Within the hour, forensics got back to them that it was the same timebomb as 2999 and that it had never exploded, but simply been diffused. Which meant, blessings on blessings, everyone got to go home that night.

Not that Janus went home, no, he ended up falling asleep on his desk somewhere between 3 and 4am, but at least he wasn’t sharing his space with anyone. He’d been trying to hack the cell phone all night to see if it had anything he could use, but he honestly had no idea what he was doing. All it seemed he could do was play some annoying song over and over again about never giving someone up. At around 2am, he’d finally broken and sent off an email, though, he’d continued to try to mess with it after that.

He got woken up by Lena coming into the office at 7am, and noticed he already had an email response asking when Janus wanted to come in.

“Now?” he sent back.

“…Do you sleep?” was the immediate response. “And yes.”

His wrist buzzed as an appointment in 5 seconds downloaded to his timepiece. He selected the coordinates and landed at Cultural Outreach. The receptionist blinked up at him and then back down at the screen on his desk. “Oh!” he said. “I didn’t see this appointment. I think Professor Eran is in his office.”

He didn’t stand to escort Janus this time, so Janus went ahead and went down the hall to Virgil’s office himself.

He knocked on the door and while he was waiting for Virgil to open it, the infernal contraption once again started to play the same stupid song.

“I didn’t even touch you!” he spat, getting it out and tapping on the screen.

“Jonas Brothers dude again?” Virgil asked causally upon opening the door.

Janus shoved it at him. “Make it stop.”

Virgil took it and fiddled with it for a few moments before it stopped with the song. “Oh my gosh,” he said scrolling through something on the screen.

“What.”

“What maniac sets a custom alarm for every 30-60 minutes for a week that just plays ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’? Oh, and one ‘It’s Not Unusual’ on Saturday. He’s mixing memes at an alarming rate.”

“Can you. Just. Make it not happen. Anymore?”

Virgil smirked at him. “Maybe.” He turned around to go back into his office.

“Virgil,” Janus growled following him in.

Virgil just laughed. “What do you want to know about it?” he asked. “Just a fair warning… the song means he… likely was aware someone would steal it.”

“Of course, he was,” Janus groaned.

“But I’m sure we can still get something out of it.” Virgil started tapping at the screen again. “Okay, let’s see. It’s an iPhone 5, and someone jailbroke it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tampered with it so they could install non-company approved software,” Virgil explained.

“Well I figured that since he was using Google Maps to track time distortions,” Janus grumbled.

“I think I have something,” Virgil said to himself while digging through his desk. “Ah ha!” He held up some sort of cord. “This will let me hook it up to my integrator.” He slotted the cord into the bottom of the iPhone and then crawled under his desk to fiddle around with some other things. “There we go,” Virgil said popping back up. “It might take a few minutes. Running the program any faster might overheat the phone.”

Janus nodded and sat back to wait. Virgil grabbed the phone and started to play around with it a bit even as it uploaded all of its information to his computer.

“Weird,” Virgil said after a moment.

“What?” Janus asked, sitting up straighter.

“There are exactly two contacts. Fewer than I’d anticipate for a regular phone from the 2010s. More than I would expect from one clearly not being used as a phone.

Virgil glanced to the side, and it must have finished the download because he unhooked it from the computer. “I have a 21st century phone network adapter,” Virgil said. “It transfers call back to whatever date the phone says. Do you want to try calling one?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Janus replied.

Virgil dug back into his desk for a small device that he plugged into the same port he’d plugged the earlier cord. “Okay, which contact do you want to try first?” he asked. “One has ‘Ro’ with a crown, red heart, and a gold star emoji. The other has “Lo” with a book, blue heart, and Milky Way emoji.”

“He mentioned a Lo,” Janus said. “So, try him first.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll put it on speaker.” He pressed some buttons before setting the phone on the desk between them.

The phone rang three times before with a bit of a crackle, it was answered. “Salutations,” a voice said, voice sounding a bit scratchy as though he had only just gotten up.

Virgil motioned with his head for Janus to speak. “Are you ‘Lo’?” he asked.

The man hummed. “To some people.”

Janus… didn’t quite know what to say to that, or even what questions he should ask.

“I’m assuming you’re the man that stole my associate’s phone.”

“Your associate?” Janus fished.

The man made an amused hum. “I believe you were calling him ‘Pat’ on your last adventure.” Janus could hear something being placed down on the other end of the phone. Before Janus could respond, he heard what sounded like an old keyboard being typed on. “Now,” Lo said. “I have to admit, I am surprised you were willing to oblige me so thoroughly by plugging the phone into your system. Let’s see…”

The screen on Virgil’s lit up bright blue all of a sudden. “…shit,” said Virgil.

“Well,” Lo said, “it seems you were clever enough not to plug it into the TPI system, which is disappointing, but…”

There was more clicking on the other end. “Hmm, interesting music tastes for the 4000s,” he said.

“I’m an anthropologist,” Virgil spoke up.

“Ah, yes, I can see that,” Lo replied. “Virgil Eran, senior professor at Silver Mountain University, a vetted member of the Cultural Outreach program, and searched the phrase ‘How to eat sushi without making a cultural blunder and making everyone hate you and losing your job because what kind of shit anthropologist doesn’t know how to eat raw fish right’ which you then shortened to ‘How to eat sushi’ and proceeded to search 52 times in the last 48 hours.”

Virgil went a bit scarlet around the ears. “Dude, did you really have to out me like that?” he hissed at the phone.

“My apologies,” Lo responded. “From my personal experience, don’t dip the rice parts in soy sauce, and don’t add too much wasabi. Overall, most people will be understanding of mistakes, and you will certainly not be fired or ostracized for handling food incorrectly. As long as you are not acting intentionally disrespectful, and I image you will not be considering your clear anxiety over whatever outing you are planning to attend, you will be fine.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good point, but counterpoint, what if you’re wrong and everyone hates me forever?”

“Is it the lunch meeting today at 11:30am?” Lo asked, “because I can see that a Professor Boris Laden has attended the event multiple years in a row. Considering he is a philosophy instructor, has no Japanese heritage that I can see, and I have found a photo of last year’s event wherein he has placed his chopsticks vertically in his rice, and he has yet to be fired or ostracized, I would postulate that your fears are unfounded.”

“Yeah but… okay, I really don’t have an argument for that one, except maybe I’m a piece of shit and everyone is looking for a reason to hate me.”

“Considering your many impressive accolades in your field, I would argue that ‘a piece of shit’ is not a good descriptor of you. Not to mention the fact that you are often a highly requested member for different committees in your department and outside of it.”

“Oh, but is that because people like me or because I’m an anxious mess and make sure events go off without a hitch?”

“From experience, disorder with people you enjoy the company of is far more tolerable than order with people you do not. Which explains my current living situation and the lack of finished dishes in my sink. Therefore, I would assume the former.”

22735

“A lot of assumptions,” Virgil commented, but he was smiling slightly.

“Assumptions based on data,” Lo argued back lightly.

“You really came in here, hacked into my computer and smacked my anxiety in the face, huh?”

“Glad to have helped.”

“Y-”

“Are the two of you finished?” Janus interrupted, finally getting sick of the two of them.

“Not nearly,” Lo said. “I have gained access to an entire network of a very large university and will be sorting through the data for a long time.”

“Ugh, right,” Virgil groaned, “and you got access through my integrator.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to trace it back to you if you don’t tell them.”

“Nice try,” Virgil said dryly, “but not likely. I’m telling them about you immediately so they can work to kick you out.”

Lo laughed. “Fair enough, but I’ve already gotten plenty of information at this point. Including the fact that you work with the TPI and scheduled an appointment with an Agent Janus Picani this morning set to start a few minutes before this phone call. So, hello Janus.”

“Bastard,” Janus shot back.

“And goodbye Professor Eran. It was a pleasure.” He hung up.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun to explain to both of our bosses.”

Arc II What We Do to Each Other

Chapter 16:

As it would turn out, Janus and Virgil did not get in trouble for hooking up the old phone to Virgil’s integrator, mostly because it wasn’t really a mistake on their part. The phone cleared all virus checks that the tech people both from the university and the TPI ran on it. The phone should have been clean and should not have caused an issue.

In fact, they were still trying to pin down the code on the general university server. They could tell that something was mucking about on the system but what or how was a mystery. This also meant that there was no telling what information had been compromised and considering how many things Silver Mountain had its hands in, that was… a bit worrying.

Another worrying thing was there was suddenly more activity of late at the TPI. There were more time distortions popping up every day. Usually they would be few and far in between. There had been 3 total recorded the year before, but over 12 in the last week. Some of them were fake like the one Janus had investigated, but some of them were real. It painted a distressing picture and also was a drain on their resources. Khalid was actually looking to advertise positions to hire new recruits which was something she rarely did as she liked to keep appointments to the TPI in house.

They’d even loosed the number of field agents needed for each mission and Janus and Remus had been splitting up just to get everything done. Today, he and Remus had thankfully only two missions scheduled for the day.

“Are we going together or separate today?” Janus asked Remus.

“Think they’ll burn me at the stake for being a witch if I go alone to either of them?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. I think we’re getting a bit late into the 1700s for that in Cuba, but I have no idea about Mesopotamia.”

“Let’s just go together. I did not like almost drowning yesterday because I was the only stranger in town when the weather was going wonky.”

“Surely it isn’t because you opened your mouth. Ever.” Janus said dryly.

“How was I supposed to know he was the local clergyman’s son?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “On second thought,” he said, pushing a button on his desk to choose Cuba as he next mission, and standing up. “I don’t want you coming with me.” Yet, he did not protest when Remus also signed up for the Cuba mission and he waited for him by the office door before going to talk to Rhi.

Rhi was a bit frazzled when which meant quite a bit as she was usually incredibly put together. Remus didn’t even seem inclined to tease her today.

“Okay,” she said once they’d closed the door behind them. She flipped through some documents on her desk. “Picani and Clockson. Camaguey Cuba 1755. Do you know Cuba?”

“Uh,” Janus said. “Yeah?”

“Like you’re reading the things, right? I don’t have to babysit you, right? You got it? The Seven Year War was happening, but it won’t affect you much as it hasn’t really hit Cuba. It’s the middle of the Camaguey Carnival. Everyone will be everywhere and there will be chaos so as long as you don’t really fuck up you should be fine. Um…apparent races.” She looked up at them and studied them each for a moment as thought looking at them for the first time despite having known them for years. “It’ll work. Go to costuming.”

“Shouldn’t we…” Janus said, “sign things?”

“…Yep,” she said, fiddling with her desktop and then sending documents over to their side to sign.

Janus and Remus both did before sending them back.

“Great. Good.” She stood and grabbed some things from behind her. “You can go.” She sat back down as they took their things and Janus noticed a message pop up on her desk. She looked up at Remus looking exhausted. “What?” she asked.

“Just open it,” Remus said.

Rhi tapped it and a photo opened.

“I got her a new mouse toy!” Remus said happily as Rhi looked at the picture of Diesel Fuel attacking a cloth mouse.

“That is… appreciated Agent Clockson,” Rhi said. “Now get out.”

They did, leaving to get their costumes on and checked. Costuming was just as busy and frazzled as Rhi had been and they actually had to wait for decon because there’d been a mix up with the agents leaving before them. They landed in Cuba without issue. Janus could already hear the festival in full swing outside the small building they’d were in. Remy was standing there with a very not time appropriate mug of coffee.

“Sue me,” Remy said when Janus raised an eyebrow at it. “Please just… get in and out without causing trouble. Seriously. I don’t want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“We’ll do our best,” Janus assured.

Remy pulled his sunglasses down to look at him. He looked exhausted. “God please do more than your best.”

Janus nodded tightly. “We’ll be in and out,” he said, already glancing at his timepiece. It had been disguised as a golden bracelet which made it a bit harder to actually use, but wrist watches wouldn’t be invented for more than a century, so they’d have to make do. “The time distortion, if that’s what it is, should be in the middle of town. Let’s go.”

He and Remus exited the building onto the packed city street.

Janus was immediately bombarded with all types of sights, sounds, and smells. There were many colorful articles of clothing and costumes as people went every which way along the street talking to other members of their community, playing instruments, and dancing. There was the sound of people speaking Spanish, still mostly almost pure Castilian Spanish with perhaps a bit of influence from Taino as the Haitian revolution had yet to push the Creole language over to Cuba. People must have been hard at work cooking different dishes for the carnival as many different spices wafted through the air. It was sticky hot considering it was the middle of June in the tropics and Janus was immediately sweating despite the temperature appropriate clothing he’d been outfitted with.

He glanced around their immediate area, just scoping out the crowds. His eyes were immediately drawn to one person near them.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said out loud when he saw Pat. Remus looked in the direction Janus was.

Even if Janus didn’t recognize him the moment he laid eyes on him, he probably still would have ended up staring as he was the only person in the area who clearly did not know how to do the dance he was attempting.

Remus snorted and Janus shook his head in secondhand embarrassment. “Well, would you look whose boyfriend’s here,” he said to Janus. Make that firsthand embarrassment. “Has anyone told him the Mambo wasn’t invented until the 1900s and also that’s not how you do it?”

Chapter 17

Pat stopped dancing the moment he saw Janus approaching him, but he still bobbed cheerfully ( and unrhythmically) to the music. “Hi Janus,” he said pleasantly.

“You just have to rub it in, huh?”

There was a flash of confusion across his face, but then he smiled. “Well, I know where in our relationship you are. How was France?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You stole the phone,” he laughed.

“You stole the bomb,” Janus countered, “and you wanted me to steal the phone. You booby trapped it.”

“No,” Pat correct, putting a finger up. “We have security on my phone because in high school I once forgot it in the school locker room and long story short, the three of us ended up in a lake. So, then Lo made sure I always had some sort of tracker on it. When I started time traveling, he updated it and when I met you we updated it again in case there was ever an opportunity like that. Lo calls it using our weaknesses to our advantage.”

“He’s a bastard too,” Janus growled.

Pat just laughed.

“Is someone talking about me?” Remus asked, stepping over to them. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Patton said, blinking at Janus’s partner for a moment. “Remus.” He hesitated slightly. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Remus asked. “Uh, I’m doing good. A little stressed out with work, but fine.”

“Good,” Pat said with just a little too much heartfulness to it.

“What?” Janus asked, eyes narrowed at Pat. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Pat asked. He met Janus’s eyes briefly and it made panic surge up Janus’s spine because the look Pat was sending him wasn’t one that said he was playing dumb. It was a warning.

Oh, Janus did not like this. That look told Janus Pat had some foreknowledge that he absolutely could not tell Janus about without messing up the timeline spectacularly. This was why this mess the two of them were mixed up in was so bad, but it seemed Janus did not have much of a choice when it came to Pat.

Despite how bad of an idea he knew it was, he still wanted to push, because whatever Pat was hiding could be very, very bad and it had to do with Remus. There were so many reasons Pat could be acting like that around Remus, but the worst ones were definitely the ones on his mind. Death, injury, illness. They were all possible especially in their line of work and especially with how time was being screwed with right now. And Pat knew. He knew exactly what the answer was, and oh did Janus want to push.

Experience knowing what worse things could come out of having foreknowledge made Janus bite his tongue.

“So, what are you two doing here,” Pat asked, and Janus unhappily let him change the subject.

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Janus replied.

“I don’t know,” Pat said innocently.

“There’s another time distortion,” Janus said, “and while you didn’t know what it was the last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure you do now.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a time distortion here. I can help you if you like,” he offered sweetly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if I could find the Flying Dutchman,” Patton told him.

“And so you went to Camaguey?”

“Uh huh.”

“One of the farthest places from the ocean in Cuba?”

“Is it?”

“I don’t trust you.”

Pat just shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want my help finding the time distortion, I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Wait,” he said when Pat went to turn away. Pat paused. Janus turned to Remus. “Remus, do you think he’s bullshitting me so I let him wander off and do whatever the hell he’s doing, or do you think he’s bullshitting me into letting him come with us.”

“Hmm,” Remus said, looking Pat up and down. Janus could immediately tell he wasn’t going to get any helpful answer. “Well, if we’re going with the how much do I get to see his, admittedly very sexy, ass criteria.” Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Letting him leave now means instant gratification and a nice full image when he turns away. However, letting him go with us means many more opportunities to get a glimpse, but they’d probably just be glimpses. So, yeah that’s a tough call.”

“You didn’t even bother to give me an actual hidden suggestion with that bullshit,” Janus groaned. He glanced at Pat only to see him hiding his very red face in his hands. Janus blinked. “Oh,” he said. “You got him, Remus.” Janus was surprised. He’d expected a bit more tenacity for someone with Pat’s personality. Of course, Janus was used to Remus, so that perhaps had some effect. Pat made a muffled distressed sound behind his hands and Janus raised an eyebrow. “You really got him.”

Pat flapped one hand around while still using the other to completely hide his face. “It’s just. His face. Saying that. Is weird.”

Janus could not say that he didn’t feel a slight spark of joy at seeing Pat flustered. After all, Pat’s weapon of choice had often been flirting with Janus in the past. However, he still smacked Remus on the shoulder when it looked like he was about to continue with something likely far more inappropriate. “We are here for a reason,” he reminded. He turned to consider Pat and squinted at him. “You’re coming with us, I’ve decided. I don’t want to let you out of my sights. Don’t,” he said empathically turning to Remus as the man opened his mouth once more.

Pat had mostly recovered, though his cheeks were just a bit pink still. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Where do we start?”

Janus glanced at his timepiece. “It’s not showing up on our trackers yet.”

“It messed with your tracker last time,” Pat pointed out.

“I know,” Janus said. “Which means it could be another fake one or whatever is causing it hasn’t started yet. If things start going wrong, but it still doesn’t show on our radar, it’s almost certainly a fake one, but some of the fake ones haven’t blocked our technology.”

“Here, I can check,” Pat said.

“Please don’t pull out an iPhone,” Janus begged.

Pat stuck out his tongue at him, and then smiled. He reached for the bracelet on his wrist and twisted it back and forth a few times before pressing his palms together. He glanced around them quickly to make sure no one around them was watching and then peeled apart his palms like he was miming reading a book.

“What the fuck is that, and how do I get one?” Remus asked immediately. It was innocuous, whatever it was. If someone from this time caught a glimpse of the display, they’d likely assume it was a trick of the light, but staring right at it, Janus could tell it was a map of the surrounding areas with a softly glowing blue light marking their current location. Janus could see no screen or origin of a hologram. It looked like the image was drawn onto the man’s palms, but as he watched, the image shifted to zoom out.

#study break stories #not writing

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