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mrsseverussnape · 3 years ago

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Love Is You - chapter 10

David Bowie concert in the last week was the best day Scarlett had in a while. Severus has offered her to have dinner in London before the concert and she has gladly accepted it. Before they left Hogwarts, Carina has insisted to take a photo of them because they have worn matching outfits without talking to each other and in Carina’s opinion they looked so cool. Her mother was wearing a long black tule skirt with a black jacket combined with a leather beret and long leather boots, her red hair was curled and her makeup was just a simple red lipstick and black smoky eyes. Professor Snape was wearing black trousers and a black turtleneck with a long leather jacket and he has put his hair in a messy bun. Carina has never seen him like that before but she was quite impressed by it. Then Severus and Scarlett apparated to London and their first destination was an Italian restaurant they used to go a lot. After having their dinner, they arrived at the concert hall. Severus has bought front row tickets and Scarlett couldn’t be happier. The moment David Bowie came up to stage, Severus realized Scarlett still didn’t have any self-control for Bowie but he was happy since Scarlett was having time of her life and actually losing herself in the moment and thinking nothing else but the music. After the concert they had a walk around the area and Scarlett insisted to treat Severus with a dessert as a thank you gift when she saw an open patisserie after the midnight. Severus had no choice but to accept it because Scarlett couldn’t take her eyes off the glass where they were showing the desserts. It was such a fun and needed night for both of them in the end of the day.

This week would be Scarlett’s moving week; she was ready to move into her old house after living with Carina at Hogwarts for over a month by now. Carina wasn't willing to let her go yet but Scarlett needed her own place and privacy since she always loved to be alone, also she didn’t want to be a burden for Carina anymore. Furthermore she wasn't feeling much depressed anymore so she was trusting herself about not doing stupid things like over drinking or trying to kill herself...

Scarlett has left their family house to Sirius even though she loved it so much but the last memories she had there erased all the good memories that the house held over the years. So she was moving the house that her parents bought her as a graduation present when she was 18. It was a Victorian style small duplex house with light blue and white exterior. The house had a small front garden where she has planted nothing else but roses. Scarlett has lived here with Severus for a year and with Sirius for 2 years until they got married. The house was already furnished, and she wasn't planning to change it at all except the bedroom. Also she has gotten her personal stuff from the family house and needed to place them too.

Leo and Scarlett have gone to shopping for bedroom in weekdays and today; Saturday, Carina joined them too to decorate the house. Scarlett was decorating the bedroom all over again while Carina was taking care of the kitchen and Leo was emptying the boxes which Scarlett brought from the family house in the living room. Then he found a rather big, fancy trunk; It was emerald green and there was a snake wrapped around a rose design carved on the centre of the lid. Leo has never seen it in his life before but since his mum brought it here it must have been important to her. He couldn't help but wonder what was in it so he tried to open but it was locked as he has suspected.

"Carina, come here for a sec." he called out for his twin.

"Yes?" She walked into the living room and she saw the trunk in front of Leo. "What's that?" She questioned curiously, it was such a pretty looking thing.

"I was hoping you would know..."

She sat down the floor next to him and examined the trunk. "That carving looks familiar to me but i dunno from where..."

"Alohomora." Leo whispered suddenly but the spell didn't work on the emerald trunk. "Well, now i am even more curious..."

"Leo! Maybe she has very personal things in it. We can simply ask her and not try to open it secretly."

"We've never seen it and it's locked with a strong charm apparently. Do you really think that mum will "simply" say what's inside the trunk?"

"Then maybe we shouldn't unlock it! What she could possibly put inside it, anyways?"

"That's the point. Don't you wonder what's mum hiding!?"

"Maybe i do, a little..."

"Do you have any idea about where the key is?"

Carina thought for a while. "You know she keeps the bank vaults’ keys and some other important ones in the same keychain. Maybe it is also there?"

"I think the keychain is still in her bag because we went to Gringotts yesterday. So the plan is you will go upstairs to distract mum from coming down here and i will try the keys on the lock. She has left the bag in the doorway."

"Okay fine but if you can manage to unlock it, call me for help or something and i will come to see. But don’t be suspicious."

"Okay, let the mission begin!"

Carina made her way to the upstairs when Leo went to the doorway to check the bag. It wasn't hard to find the keys in the bag. There were 5 keys in the keychain; 2 of them were for the bank, 1 was for her own vault which she keeps in the house that Leo knew. So there was 2 other keys left. Leo tried to first one but it didn't even fit the lock. The last one was smaller than the previous one, he still kept his hopes high and tried the last possible key. And then he heard the click when he put it inside the lock. He carefully turned it and the trunk unlocked itself. Leo snickered to himself and opened it slowly. There were many kinds of things in the trunk but the big purple photo album with velvet cover caught his eyes the most. He took it out carefully, he was trying not to move anything in the trunk that she could notice later, then before took a look inside the album he called his twin as he promised. Carina came down running excitedly after couple of seconds.

"Mum is not coming anytime soon, she is so lost with the clothes right now." She whispered and sat next to him.

"There are so many things in it! It is like a memory box but bigger version. Probably the presents dad got her when they were dating or such because there are some jewellery boxes." Then he showed the photo album he took out. "Are you ready to take a look inside?"

She was looking unsure and having second thoughts. "I don't feel very comfortable about doing this behind her back to be honest..."

"Oh c'mon Carina, we made it this far and i saw how excited you were while coming here! Some mischievousness won't hurt anyone, be daddy's girl for once!"

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Fine fine, open it!"

"NO WAY!"

"Is this...?"

"YES! MERLIN’S BEARD!"

"Be quiet Leo!" Carina slapped his arm.

They looked through the photos in silence and shock for a while until Carina broke it.

"I have told you that there is something between them, i felt it from the very first moment I saw them in the same room!"

"You did but i wasn't expecting THAT. Some big love is happening here! Professor Snape and mum… I would never imagine this pair in my wildest dreams, bloody hell!"

"I wonder why she never mentioned it before, we talked about relationships countless of times and she was like dad was the first and the last. Mum literally acted like she doesn't know Professor Snape for years!"

"Maybe the breakup wasn't smooth. But I remember whenever you talked about Professor Snape which you did frequently; dad was always annoyed and mum was avoiding talking. I bet there is some drama here. " Leo put the photo album back in the trunk. "I am locking it, this shock is enough for today and apparently it is very personal..."

She nodded. "I will learn their story soon."

"How will you do that exactly?"

"Leave the job to the professional and don't worry about the rest." A mischievous smirk appeared on Carina’s lips.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

#severus snape #pro snape #snape #sirius black #fanfiction #fanfic #severus snape x oc #sirius black x oc #severus snape/oc #sirius black/oc #severus snape fluff #mrs.severussnape #moodboard by mrsseverussnape #mrsseverussnapefanfic #fluff fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #oc #original charater #original characters

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themockingcrows · 4 years ago

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Doki Doki Grist Panic! Ch. 1

pairing: John/Dave Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Bro Strider cw: Canon Typical Violence, magical boys, more tags to be added as needed

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802735/chapters/68066416

The life of a magical boy is a tough one, but Dave doesn't really have much of a choice in the matter. It's the fate he was handed, and the fate he'll cope with. With new enemies spawning in his city left and right, Dave has his hands full trying to maintain the peace and little time for much else. That is, until the cute boy he rescued turns up in his college class and seems to share all of his interests. Is love on the horizon? Or is love too much to hope for in this line of work?

There were nearly too many to count by the time Dave arrived on the scene, dark creatures that looked like they were born from an oil slick, their shoulders and head decked with odd looking colorful scraps of fabric collars and hats. Most of the people had fled the area when the hungry beasts had turned up, but a few victims had been downed by the creatures, their bodies lying limp surrounded by bright colorful gems of energy in a rainbow of colors.

Grist. It was the energy of this planet, the energy that powered every living thing, and as such it was a tasty target for most enemies from beyond the asteroid belt who wanted a quick powerup. Dave had run into plenty of creatures before, both from home and from beyond, who were a threat to the populace, but he’d never seen beings act this efficiently before.

Everywhere the creatures jumped they left behind an oily mess, even soiling the grist their greedy hands reached for, wanting to throw the delicate candy looking items into their mouths. Were they just going to eat them to further their own power? Or were they eating them to transport them? It didn’t matter. They weren’t going to get far. Dave was planning on doing a silent takedown, a sneak attack, but he realized there was a risk. A lone person was standing in the midst of the carnage, dark hair and tanned skin stark against a blue sweater the color of the crisp autumn sky itself and a bright white shirt collar.

He had to get them safe, before they fell to the same fate as the scattered bodies.

Right. Showy it was, then.

“STOP RIGHT THERE,” Dave cried, bounding out of cover and out into view in a flash of red. His black and white knee high boots, black buttons shining on the side, clicked on the concrete as he landed safely from the larger than life jump he’d performed. The black leggings he wore beneath the red, gear pattern edged tunic were pristine from the recent transformation, the same material coating his arms and chest like a second skin. The dark red cape he wore fluttered in the wind, hood down and back, white hair windswept. It was quite the impressive appearance, all things considered.

“Wh-what?” said the soon to be victim. His eyes were pretty to look at behind the thick glasses he wore, black frames perched on his nose. He didn’t look nearly as terrified as he should have, but then again shock can do a lot to a person.

“Get to cover!” Dave barked, a gloved hand pointing to the clear area he’d come from. As planned, the creatures focused on him, pausing in their gorey gathering ritual to flock his direction. Another flash of red, the afterimage of a slowly ticking gear hanging behind him for a moment and Dave had summoned his weapon of choice, a long silvery blade with a gilt crossguard, broadsword firm and true. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, hyping himself up as he shifted his grip, before pointing the sword at the incoming beasts.

“You will not best me. I am a warrior of Earth and you’re not gonna get in my way!” he shouted.

Time slowed around him briefly, the clock gear flashing in the air behind him as he darted forwards, giving him enough speed and delay to get in the heavy strikes he needed against the inky interlopers. Their bodies felt solid at first hit, but when they collapsed it was into grist and oil slick once more. Darting around this way, the creatures slower than usual, gave him an upper hand that was in some ways criminal. They were low tier creatures judging from their density alone and the lack of a fight they put up, but their numbers were still worrisome to Dave. He was panting by the time he finished the slicing and dicing, black gunk coated grist littering the ground behind him.

He held the sword as he caught his breath before slowly straightening, loosening his grip on it and willing it back from where it had been summoned. The released grist was slowly beginning to move, rolling and bouncing back towards the limp bodies they had come from. With luck, they’d wake up soon. No doubt the police would be coming shortly, ambulance in tow, if only from the amount of people that had run away in terror.

Right, where was- Oh. Good, there he was. The fellow from before, mister blue sweater, seemed fine and dandy. A little wide eyed in shock now, but who could blame him? It wasn’t often that Dave had to make appearances where people could see him. It was far, far easier being a magical boy out of view of the populace, guarding people from a distance, not having to deal with aftermath even if he was capable of making quick escapes unseen. Mister blue sweater might have been hit if he hadn’t exposed himself as he had.

Actually, speaking of-

“What’s your name?” Dave asked as he clicked his way closer to the bystander’s side, glancing him over. No sign of damage. A little oil on his shoes, when he looked closer, but otherwise unharmed. Good.

“John,” said the black haired fellow. “Who are..?”

Dave smiled a bit, reaching a gloved hand up to flick his bangs away from his face. “Doesn’t matter who I am. John, you got really lucky. Do me a favor: when the cops get here, make sure that the people who are still asleep get help. They should wake up soon, but some might be feeling sick for a while after this. Grist doesn’t always redistribute evenly, when there’s a lot scattered like that.” Pain in the neck, really, but what could anyone do? Somehow have an inventory of how much grist people had at the moment of attack then inventory reclaimed grist and distribute it evenly? Impossible.

He smiled then, blue eyes crinkling at the edges, and showed buck teeth that were actually pretty charming when taken in with the rest of the whole. The upside of this duty Dave had, this burden in some lights, was that he got to see all kinds of people. Even the really cute ones. Charmed, but needing to beat feet, Dave smirked and turned around, making a series of difficult leaps to reach the top of the buildings before speeding away, flash stepping out of sight and allowing the magic to slowly fade. There were no more feelings of intense wrong, nothing on his internal radar nearby, at least for the night. Safety had returned. Time to relax.

By the time Dave was closer to home, his hair had changed back to blonde from the stark white it had been during the fight, and the uniform had returned to the clothing he’d been wearing before the change, a simple t-shirt and some jeans with rips in the knees, sunglasses, high top sneakers and a chain wallet, his keys with the stupid heart keychain Dirk had given him that he’d never bothered to get rid of. He made his way up the long sets of stairs before unlocking the door with his key, waving to his Bro where he sat on the futon in front of the television, playing a video game.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he heard back, ignoring the sound of familiar game music in favor of carefully raiding the fridge for something to eat. “Very big of a mess this time?”

“Nah. Nothing I can’t handle,” Dave said, settling on a bottle of juice. Instant ramen sounded better than the leftovers that were available, even if it was mostly salt and carbs. He was tired and needed something hot. “Y’know, if you thought it might be a big mess you could’ve at least bothered to cook.”

“You’re a big boy, you can handle it,” Bro said casually. “When I used to run around on the beat, I-”

“Flew uphill both ways in the snow,” Dave said flatly, annoyed, but breaking his noodles into a bowl and adding water and the powder before slapping it into the microwave to cook.

“No, I was gonna say I didn’t have anyone to run me a bath and cook me stuff, I was on my own. If I could do it, you can do it. Who knows when I won’t be here to help back you up anyway?”

“Back me up?” Dave said, brows lifting over his shades. “You can’t back shit up when it comes to some of these things!”

“Please, Dave. I might not be magic anymore, but I still know how the fuck to fight some monsters.”

“If anyone could back me up against monsters, it’d be Dirk, but he’s off bein’ a prettyboy ninja stud fuck knows where. You need magic to beat this shit, or at least the shit that’s turned up in the last few years. You know that. You knew that before you gave everything up an-”

Bro was quiet for a moment before he paused his game and sighed, leaning back against the futon, interrupting Dave’s train of words. “Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon, man, at least let me pretend I’d be useful to your ass beyond fightin’ practice.”

“I don’t need fighting practice! You always wanna use katanas, I use a broadsword! A broadsword!” Dave said, looking to the microwave when it beeped before aggressively popping it open. He grabbed a fork and his hot noodles before heading for the hallway. “I’m gonna go eat, shout if you need me. Or text, or whatever.”

Bro frowned, but let Dave go without a word. Not that he could really say much. He knew how much stress Dave was under, knew he could probably help in some ways that would matter a lot, but knowing there was no way to gauge how much longer he’d even be around to begin with, it made it hard to know when to try being close and when to push further away.

Probably better to just keep things at arms length like they had been for a few years now, make it easier for them both. The last thing Bro wanted to do was become a source of weakness for Dave, after all.

It was the least he’d be able to do.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The last face Dave expected to see on Monday was a familiar one. Amidst the chatter of his classmates filling the lecture hall, Dave spotted messy dark hair and shining blue eyes, black glasses with thick square lenses. When he spoke, when he grinned at someone, he saw the buck teeth that had finalized the squirm in his stomach on the weekend. It was still early enough in the semester that students were dropping and adding classes left and right, so it wasn’t unthinkable that there’d be another handful of new faces in the class for a while. The fact it was this one, though, was surprising. More surprising still was the eventual way the tall guy made his way towards the back, towards Dave’s table, and pointed at the seat beside him.

“That open? Everyone else has their bags on their chairs, I guess they’re saving them for someone else,” he said.

More like trying to deter randos from sitting beside them, Dave thought, realizing he’d forgotten to do the exact same thing. Whoops. Oh well, not the worst person in the world to want to sit beside him and listen to the professor prattle on up in front of the lecture hall.

“Yeah, it’s open,” said Dave after a moment of processing that… shit this guy was pretty fucking cute up close. Sounded nice too, when he wasn’t high off adrenaline. He kicked his backpack further under the tabletop and glanced down at his laptop, making sure he wasn’t on anything embarrassing without realizing it. Nope, youtube and a flash game till the class started (and for during class if the guy went off topic and wouldn’t get back to the relevant things for class, as was this Professor’s apparent specialty).

“My name’s John,” offered messy hair as he sat down. “What’s yours?”

His name didn’t matter.

“Dave,” he said, grinning a bit. “Nice to meet you, John.”

“Oh man, you’re subscribed to them too?” he asked suddenly, pointing to the screen. “I’ve been watching their Lets Plays for years, it’s kinda amazing how much they break the games they play. And it’s neat to see two girls running a channel that big, normally it’s guys as far as the eye can see.”

“Yeah? I feel ya,” Dave said, glancing to the screen again and clicking to pause. Rose was in the process of executing a risky near game breaking glitch that would speed them towards the ultimate weapon of the game, while Jade was explaining the process and the details, as well as the history of the game itself, and giving real life comparisons to the events and reality. He’d seen this episode at least a half dozen times, but the duo were charming as hell and really knew their shit. Cut throat and cut throat, and yet entertaining and casual. “Space Needle is kind of a weird name for a channel though. Isn’t that a landmark somewhere?”

“I know, but have you heard Jade go on about space and technology before?”

“Oh yeah, her science corner,” Dave mused. Shit, this guy really was a fan. ...Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being distracted by him after all, they’d managed to break the ice without even a second thought.

The professor had finally made his way into the classroom, however, and Dave nodded his direction to John, who hurriedly dug into his bag for his own laptop. Right, time to focus now. They could geek out later. Dave didn’t miss the Space Needle sticker on the back, along with an impressive amount of other insignia that Dave could only guess at. Dude seemed into pop culture to a wicked degree, there were even memes on display, up to date ones too.

They were hard cut to focus though, finding it much more fun to whisper back and forth about their favorite episodes, their favorite quotes, in jokes and memes. John apparently had started watching fairly recently but was already die hard, and was living for Dave’s deeper lore on the channel. The whispering only stopped when the professor focused enough to catch them, calling for quiet in the back. They exchanged guilty smirks and went back to actually focusing, taking notes from the display and trying to decipher what would be most important from what was being said to note down as well.

When the class ended, it was back to business as they packed up and headed out, deciding to hit the cafeteria for more conversation and a snack before they had to go their separate ways. Dave’s eventual regretful time to leave came all too soon after he’d finished some fries, and he was surprised when John handed over not only his discord information, but his phone number on a scrap napkin. His handwriting was messy but clear, and on his way to his next destination Dave took care to gently set it into his bag for later.

He’d gotten a cute guys details without even asking. Discord was one thing, but his phone number? Holy shit. The fact that it’d be difficult to remain casual with him was going to be the next task at hand, what with his duties and all, but Dave had confidence he’d manage it.

He could handle saving the world. Of course he could handle a cute guy at the same time.

Somehow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Somehow seemed a lot further away when Dave was busy. A lot less possible. How could he juggle a friendship casually, much less with a really cute guy, while dealing with shit like this every other day? Another attack had laid low several people, with the creatures showing they could reproduce with enough of the inky substance on the ground. Someone had unleashed another flow of them, but this time they seemed prepared to fight back.

They had sharp claws that cut at the fabric of Dave’s cape, and his usual speed didn’t seem enough for dealing with them with such a heavy weapon. He vaguely wished he had the skills to use a katana like Dirk or Bro properly, one handed and speedy as sound itself, but alas. His mantle was the royal deringer and no less. Fate seemed to think he could handle a broadsword, so a broadsword he was dealt.

When a group of the imps managed to knock him over, sending him flying into the air and then skidding along the ground till he came to a halt, Dave knew he’d need to change tactics. Slowly getting up onto his scuffed white boots once more, Dave began to circle the creatures, biding his time and waiting till he could strike properly. They were mindless before, but this time they seemed to be working as a team, occasionally using each other as weapons or sending projectiles made of sludgy oil Dave’s direction. He’d dodge, dance backwards, flash step sideways to avoid. He needed to act quickly, though. It appeared as though there was potentially a way for them to combine themselves, to become even larger. Deadlier. Finally though, they left themselves open.

Gritting his teeth, Dave felt the surge in his blood as the gears activated in the air behind him, flashing brightly as they turned. He flash stepped forwards and angled his blade, slicing clean through four in a go before flash stepping another direction and backstabbing another. He bounced about this way for a good thirty seconds of real time, dodging slightly slowed attacks and striking what he hoped were key points of these taller, more deadly imps. Grist showered the ground with the falling oil, a slow motion wave that only grew in intensity as he finally shouted and beheaded the final creature and came to a knee to catch his breath.

His arms burnt, his back ached, and the ticking throb in his head only seemed to get more and more intense as the gears slowed and finally disappeared following his strife. He was coated in oil, and was thankful he didn’t need to worry about cleaning and detailing his weapon as he sent it back where it had come from, let alone cleaning himself or his uniform. He ran a hand through oily white hair and grimaced, looking at the fallen grist, the fallen people, and shook his head.

A repeat attack so soon, escalating no less, meant that this foe wasn’t just another one and done mission. Something felt… wrong. Intensely wrong, really. Dave couldn’t put his finger on it, but his instincts were telling him to be wary of the situation.

With the sound of sirens on the horizon, Dave bolted from the scene, taking to the building tops with some parkour and extreme jumps, flash stepping some distances and simply taking cover for others till he could return to the ground in a desolate area. Away went the magic, a gear appearing overhead and quickly whipping over him to the ground, returning him to his normal clothes.

If only it could take away the fatigue, too.

And the sense of loneliness that cropped up not long after as he was walking back to where he’d ditched his backpack originally tonight, passing by a gaggle of people out having fun, unaware of the danger that lurked around them. Unaware of just how great they had it, being able to go to the movies with friends whenever they wanted to instead of forever being on call.

Would he be like that someday, somehow? Find a way to get peace for extended periods, or peace everlasting? Not eternally being on call? Or would he be like Bro, powerless and essentially alone, traumatized and waiting for his timer to tick down. ...No. He’d never be like Bro, probably. Bro had given everything up for him. It was his fault he was-

A chirp from Dave’s phone alerted him that he was near his bag, and just in time to boot. He rummaged in the pocket to dig it out, and blinked at the screen.

John.

That’s right… He had a friend now. ...Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. He actually smiled as he lit the screen up and tapped out a reply, shouldering his bag before heading home. It was more discussion of Space Needle, which was a welcome distraction from how Dave felt, and how his thoughts had begun turning.

ectoBiologist: so like i was saying, i just heard about their next lets play and i’m freaking out a bit! turntechGodhead: yeah?? whats planned ectoBiologist: they’re going to cover SBURB! can you believe it?turntechGodhead: sburb huh turntechGodhead: seems their style i guess turntechGodhead: didnt it get kinda mid reviews though ectoBiologist: some people rated it sub par but i don’t care, i think it sounds great. ectoBiologist: i don’t know what would be better, if it was a great game or if it was a spectacular piece of shit they can tear apart on screen. turntechGodhead: think theyll stream any of it ectoBiologist: oh shit i hope so!

The banter carried Dave all the way home, up the familiar stairs, and into the apartment where he was surprised to smell food cooking. The room was warm from the stove and oven being on, catching Dave out of the conversation and into reality once more, freezing and lifting a brow.

“Okay, what’s happenin’, you don’t cook.”

Bro, sprawled out on the futon again with his long legs crossed, smirked from beneath the brim of his hat.

“Excuse the fuck outta you, I do too. It’s just been a goddamn long time.”

“Okay, you don’t cook for me though,” Dave clarified, setting his bag down.

“Who said it’s for you?”

“...”

“I’m fuckin’ with you. There’s a casserole in the oven and some sides on the stove. Eat up.”

“I need a shower first,” Dave said, remembering all too well the feeling of oil in his hair, oil hitting his face, the bittersweet smell of the inky sludge. After warning John he was going offline for a bit, Dave dropped his bag in his room and went to clean himself up. It’d be the first night in a long while he felt secure, comfortable, warm, clean, AND full all at once.

There were worse ways to spend an evening than falling asleep on his phone after too much supper. Though, right then, Dave couldn’t really think of any. All he could think about was the cute boy on the other end of the discord handle, his favorite gamers prepping for a new title they could experience at the same time, and the lulling comfort of sleep seeping into his bones.

#homestuck #johndave #john egbert #dave strider #my fic

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fistsoflightning · 4 years ago

Text

23: i wanna know what you’re doing tonight

prompt: shuffle || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2796

Does writing music based on things your friend said count as flirting?

It’s AU brainworm time everybody >:3 This “main street” AU is basically balefire/mom squad’s ‘what if we made a bunch of small town romance ideas and mashed them together’ which turns out to be a lot more hilarious than it should be. Featuring (chat) cameos from @windupcatgirl @to-the-voiceless @windupnamazu @verbroil and @winduphaurchefant because why not. Title from this song!

For all intents and purposes, Zaya enjoys autumn; summer heat cooling off into a pleasant chill, the sunlight that lingers enough to keep warm in the early weeks. The trees may die, but in doing so they grow colorful, and though the flowers in A’dewah’s little shop don’t do the same he changes which ones are on display to match better with the tree outside. It does mean Krile—and more recently, one G’raha Tia—have to return to Mor Dhona, their studies resuming, but it’s not like they can’t chat.

It does, however, mean the return of autumn showers—and they don’t even hate rain that much—and fortunately Zaya managed to forget their poncho just as the first big storm pulled in. Mor Dhona wasn’t that far of a drive away, really, just two or three hours on a road Zaya had taken enough times before, but in the middle of a rainstorm? Without a rainproof coat?

Well, at least Miss Eldfalk’s documents are staying dry in the carrier at Zaya’s back, even if the chill of the rain has already soaked through the wool of their jacket and started to dampen their shirt by the time they pull into the parking garage just a block or so away from the museum waiting on Sjanna’s delivery. Thankfully the inn is just an elevator away and not on the other side of the road; they should keep a spare poncho or umbrella in the motorcycle luggage next time.

Zaya pushes the thought aside as they slip off their helmet and the phone in their pocket begins to buzz about, safely tucked within the canvas pocket of their overalls and hopefully not just as soaked as their hands are. Wiping their palms and fingers on the inside of their legs, they unzip the soggy jacket and tug out the borrowed phone to see the numerous Linkcord notifications—of course.

Leaning onto the front of their motorcycle, Zaya hardly takes a second glance up to the storm just out the window behind them as a few taps and a swipe unlocks the screen, opening up to the Linkcord discussion of the day (night? Night.)

[ text channel #mom-panic; 9:47 PM ]

banned for baby crimes zayaaaaaa i miss you Hanami Hagane You are just saying that because you have no one to drag around the fair. Hanami Hagane Besides, they will be back tomorrow afternoon. banned for baby crimes no i’m not!! that’s too long!! i brought ihget but he’s being stupid and wont ride the ferris wheel with me :’) banned for baby crimes i cant find lunya and reese either so now im stuck with himbo here local breadhead we’re just by the cotton candy stand! lunya’s waving at you ;) banned for baby crimes OH THERE YOU ARE HOW DID I MISS YOU hold on i gotta grab the chad first local breadhead 😊 banned for baby crimes but i really miss zaya even if they’re just over in mor dhona.. so does ochir he- i- banned for baby crimes has anyone seen ochir ihget lost him in the crowd- this says zaya 😱 reese is in pieces :O( YOU WHAT?? local breadhead oh dear lmao reese is in pieces :O( i hope no one tries to take him :( reese is in pieces :O( lunya says if your stupid catboy loses zaya’s bird shes not going to make you two the mini versions of zaya’s courier hat banned for baby crimes IT SNTO MY FAULT ZAYA JR HERE WAS BEIGNB ROODY ADN LOOKED AWAY NOOOOOOO,,, Hanami Hagane Why bring the bird with you, anyways. Zaya lent you Ochir’s cage. banned for baby crimes he made sad noises when ihget n i were abt to leave,,,,

The chat quickly devolves from there into Sati panicking about Zaya’s violet-backed starling going rogue and everyone else jumping in and hells, they are not in the mood to manage that. Drops of water fall from their chin onto the screen; they hastily wipe it away before shoving the phone back into their pocket and hop off their motorcycle. A few quick movements with the key round their wrist opens up the luggage attachment with the satchel of papers inside—blessedly dry, thank the gods they splurged on a decent one instead—which they swing over their shoulder as they start walking to the elevator.

A dripping trail has probably followed them all the way from the parking garage to the lobby, they think in passing as they stop at the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to turn around. Their hand goes to fiddle with the small keychain on their keyring as they wait, still dripping their own personal puddle around them.

“Hello, hello! Welcome to the Seventh Heaven, how may I—” Tataru turns around, small smile widening into a sunny bright grin when she sees them, even if they’re dripping all over the lobby. “Zaya! Good to see you back again; need a room for the night, then?”

A curt nod (that sends water droplets onto the surface of Tataru’s desk) is all she needs to hop off her stepping stool and onto the ground, waving Zaya along before she cheerily marches down the halls with a keyring jingling in her hand. Not even the gloomy rainstorm thundering outside can put a damper on her mood, it seems.

“Payment for the night’s stay may be given in the form of Gannet Bay gossip, alright?” Tataru unlocks the door to a nicely decorated room with a quick turn of her hand, playfully winking over her shoulder as she does. Her violet eyes glimmer almost the same as Lunya’s, really; filled with teasing joy and secrets. “I’ve heard from the grapevine about a certain catboy quite enjoying the atmosphere out there, now!”

She steps aside as the door swings fully open, giving a little curtsy, and Zaya gives her an energetic thumbs-up as they walk past her into the room, pleasantly warm and bright from the small fireplace in the corner of the room, banked low so its amber glow only flickers across the floor.

First things first: getting out of all the soggy clothing they’re wearing.

They hang their satchel (papers still neatly bound inside, good) on the wall hook by the door and haphazardly strip off their shoes and socks, followed by the once-warm and fluffy jacket as they look about for spare hangers.

Ah; Tataru always has their back. Hanging on the end of the bed are a set of four or so hangers, which Zaya snaps up with ease, carefully slipping the wooden hangers through sleeves and loops as they finally get to their undershirt—blissfully dry, if not a bit cold. Their overalls aren’t all that damp on the top but are more than soaked the further down the legs one looks… hopefully that dries quick enough.

Just as they finish kicking their ankle-high boots to the mat by the door, a quiet yet unfamiliar chime fills the room, and Zaya nearly thinks to check outside the door for the noise when the light vibrations trickle up their arm. The soft ringtone—someone humming along to a muffled orchestra, maybe; not the smartest of choices for a calling ringtone—grows louder as Zaya stares down at their collection of soggy clothing.

...Alright, second: answer the damn phone?

Zaya nearly fumbles all the hangers to grab their phone from the pockets of their overalls and accept the call, only briefly reading the name from the screen before his face pops up in its place. White hair and a charming grin, perhaps—that is, to anyone who hadn’t heard the words that fall from his mouth like gentle rain.

(Okay, well, maybe that just helped. Zaya wasn’t going to say that out loud to anybody regardless; it didn’t matter what they thought of Thancred’s charms. Probably.)

“...I’d say ‘good evening’ but I wager you are having anything but just by the water dripping off your hair,” Thancred says in lieu of greeting, his voice warm and surrounded by the distant sounds of the usual fall fair attractions. “So instead, I’ll say this; is that old phone serving you well enough?”

Zaya nods; given, this one’s a bit clunky, but the lightness of their actual tomephone may have indirectly been the reason that they’d dropped it while helping out around town and eventually cracked the screen. At least Thancred had offered to lend them his old one for the trip to Mor Dhona in case, just on the off chance someone truly needed their attention, like for lost birds and ways to punish a distracted idiot.

They set it on the table, the front camera facing towards the window as Zaya steps into frame, still fiddling with the hangers in their hands. Mor Dhona may be covered in a gloomy storm, but the golden lights from the buildings around Revenant’s Toll Square still glow brightly in the distance, a refuge from the biting torrent of cold rain.

“Survived the water,” they sign slowly, stepping closer to the fireplace in a subtle attempt to dry off a bit quicker, almost fumbling when their fingers stiffen, chilled to the bone. Thancred laughs, the bridge of his nose crinkling just a tad like how it does when he can’t stop cracking himself up. “Still has power, too.”

“Glad to see it has survived, then.” There’s a slight pause where Thancred stops talking (and laughing) to catch his breath, the small silence filled with Zaya leaving frame to go hang their soaked clothes over the fireplace to hopefully dry for tomorrow. When they come back to look at the camera, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights dance across Thancred’s face, some colorfully lit attraction before him leaving his platinum blonde hair awash with a rainbow of color. “The storm there should burn off by early dawn, though; hopefully you will not have to drag yourself home dripping wet from your business in Mor Dhona.”

Ah, good. They yawn as discreetly as someone who’s on a video call can—which is to say, not very, and a rosy flush must spread on their face when Thancred chuckles under his breath, low and steady.

“Forgive me,” he says next, voice lowered as if he were disturbing someone’s rest. “I must be keeping you from collapsing; I can’t imagine a drive in the freezing rain and getting soaked is the least draining way to spend one’s night.”

In-between stretching out the tense muscles in their back and neck do they grunt some noise of agreement, the strain flaring momentarily before melting into a drowsy warmth that drips down the ridges of their spine. Really, spending time in Mor Dhona at all is a draining waste of time—when you make your home in somewhere as vibrantly quiet as Gannet Bay it’s hard to want the big city over the comforts of familiarity, of knowing each shop and its owners personally, of being able to help them all and see their smiles.

At least they can see one person from home, now.

“ ‘S fine,” they mumble softly, heart stuttering when Thancred’s smile widens at the sound of their voice. Part of them wishes they were there to playfully elbow him for that—it’s not that rare tha they’ll speak—and the other part of them they are desperately trying to ignore. “How’s th’ fair.”

“Wonderful.” He looks up for a moment as Zaya wraps themselves in the bed coverings, presumably to whatever booth or stall is shining down on his face with fluorescent lights. “Ryne’s had a wonderful time, I think. I haven’t seen your friends around, but would you like to hear about the odd variety of attractions around?”

Zaya hums sleepily, waiting for him to continue. They hardly even notices when their eyelids grow heavy and their fingers return to their usual warmth, entranced enough by the fond familiarity of Thancred’s voice as they drift off to sleep.

…

The next morning, Zaya wakes with the dawn that rises across Mor Dhona, the bright golden sunrise sneaking through the cracks of the large curtains to tickle their bedsheets. The cityscape outside the window is covered by low autumn morning fog, glimmering as the sunlight dances over it and the puddles the passing storm had left behind in its wake. Outside, it is nearly silent, only a few passing cars and hardly any pedestrians around when Zaya does their morning stretches by the window.

As is always with a trip into the city, they fall into an easy routine; wake with the sun, stretch out whatever they can without breaking something, get dressed and hastily grab everything before rushing out the door, wave Tataru a rushed but genuine goodbye. Trot down to the parking garage, check the bike, throw the satchel back into the luggage on the back as they slip on their stereo cuffs and flick through playlists on their phone before going to get breakfast at the Bismarck—

Zaya pauses their flick-tap scroll through the playlists on their phone when they catch one with their name. Odd; Thancred did always have the habit of making his friends their own personal playlists, but they’d like to think they didn’t give him that much of a read on their tastes just yet.

Shrugging to no one but themselves, they tap on the playlist and let it begin to play as they slide the phone back into their overall pocket, starting up their motorcycle’s engine just as the song begins to play.

They stop.

[ DM history with @superbolide; 7:36 AM]

zayaya ❓ zayaya 🌅😊❗🎵🎧💿❓❓ superbolide good morning to you too :) you’re up rather early superbolide something the matter? superbolide ah i haven’t got another song for you yet, if that’s the question rest assured, i’ll find something yet! zayaya 🙅

It hardly takes them more than a few seconds to grab a small screenshot of the playlist in question, sending it and another screenshot back to Thancred as they quietly listen to the same song Rjoli and Reese had playing near constantly for last Valentione’s Day in the bakery—still manages to be catchy, somehow. Let it not be said that acoustic covers were not their favorite.

The notification ringtone chimes when Thancred responds, cheery and bright.

Zaya goes a bit bug-eyed at what he types next, the song fading off as the next one on shuffle comes up—piano, humming, Thancred’s voice—

Thankfully, for it being so early in the morning, there’s no one around in the parking garage to judge the frankly embarrassing noise they make at their phone, or the bright flush that spreads across their face.

It isn’t like that, they remember saying, sputtering like a fish out of water when Lunya had barely insinuated that Thancred’s small wave as he walked past was a bit more than friendly. There’s no way he’d be interested in the courier that helped him choose out a ribbon at the local boutique, of all people! He doesn’t even know where I work!

Zaya drops their forehead onto the dash of their motorcycle, careful not to hit their horns against anything as they do.

Looks like they were wrong, about it ‘not being like that’. Maybe.

(Oh gods, they really hope they’re wrong.)

…

[ text channel #mom-panic; 8:03 AM]

💬 this says zaya is typing...

this says zaya😑 this says zaya💭🌑💘 🤟 ❓ banned for baby crimes DOES HTAT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES closest to hell zaya qestir i swear on your lover boy’s life clarify for the peanut gallery local breadhead :0 reese is in pieces :O( i think hm reese is in pieces :O( zaya did thancred just confess or did somethign else happen this says zaya [ superbolide: oh haha i must have forgotten to upload those to my lifestream] this says zaya [ superbolide: there are some songs i did save, but all the clips there were lyrics i thought of after chatting w/ you 😉] this says zaya [ superbolide: i could make an EP dedicated to you w/ the inspo you gave me] this says zaya [ superbolide: that is, if you don’t mind] Hanami Hagane I told you he was obvious. closest to hell SATINA YOU OWE ME GUMMIES FROM SHOOTING STAR I CALLED IT closest to hell IT WAS OBVIOUS THE MUSIC HES MAKING WAS BC OF THEM local breadhead oh bless… that’s v sweet… banned for baby crimes HBHBHHB NOOO MY HARD EARNED GIL,,, banned for baby crimes BUT WE ALL WERE RIGHT ABOUT HIM THO reese is in pieces :O( awwwauaua!! banned for baby crimes so banned for baby crimes zaya banned for baby crimes when’s the wedding this says zaya 😡😡😡 closest to hell me🤝sati “when’s the wedding” this says zaya 👆💀�� Hanami Hagane You two better start running. banned for baby crimes WAIT ZAYA NO-

#ffxiv #zaya qestir #thancred waters #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #tales from the blue #my writing #main street au #look its 2020 and i can write chatfic with my normal fic if i want #the song may be about breakup but this fic sure aint :^)#i dont know how to make the names all color text in tumblr ;W; ill fix it later...#balefire #elie's ffxivwrite2020 #s: bound by faith

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 5 years ago

Text

An Unspoken Rule Part Nineteen

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: Sorry this is late! Just got two kittens and they’re running me ragged.

Warnings: There is smut in this chapter, under the cut. You’ve been warned.

(also wow i haven’t written a sex scene in a while wow)

Summary: “Would you say we’ve been taking it slow?” He asked. I leaned back to get a good look at him. “I’d say we’ve been going at a glacial pace.”

“Hey there. Saw that you called.”

I smiled, tucking the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I opened my apartment door. “Hi,” I said, “You caught me in the middle of leaving the 112th voicemail.” I heard William laugh on his end. “Now who’s keeping track of everything?” “Not everything, just those. How’d the talk go?” I listened as Will told me about the talks he’d given most recently, and some of the recruits that had asked to speak with him separately. I told him that little Tommy Benson threw up on Becca’s shoes, and had started to tell him about the plans for Jake’s birthday party, but the words died in my mouth.

“…Hey, you still there? Can you hear me?” Will asked on the other end.

“I— Yes, sorry I was checking my mail, just uh. Got distracted.” “Everything okay?” “Yeah, fine,” I said. I tossed the mail onto the table, with an invite to Layla’s wedding at the top of the pile. “When are you coming home?” I asked.

“In a week.” I didn’t bother covering the annoyed whine that I made in response as I plopped onto my couch.

“Come on, it’s not that long,” he added, “You used to go way longer than that without seeing me.”

“That was different,” I pointed out.

“I’ll be back in time for Jake’s birthday party,” Will promised.

“Good,” I smiled, “because he is very excited to show his big brothers off to all of his friends.”

——-

“Well she’s not being subtle, is she,” LeeAnn sniffed as she came to stand beside me. I frowned, turning away from the plate John was loading with hot dogs and burgers.

“Who’s not?” I asked. LeeAnn nodded into the yard. I followed her gaze and grimaced before looking down at the plate.

Will had always been popular in high school. He was cute, he was smart and he was genuinely nice. When he’d come back engaged to Layla, his fellow alumni started putting money on whether or not they’d break up, and who would get their claws in him first if they did.

Jane Harris had been in my year. She’d never been my favorite person, but my opinion of her was dropping by the second as she rubbed her hand up and down William’s arm. I could just barely hear the words, “So strong.”

“It’s shameless,” LeeAnn hissed, “You can’t bring your nephew and then spend the entire time flirting with someone.”

“Apparently she can,” I said simply. I could hear LeeAnn going on, but I stopped listening. I wasn’t there to make a scene. I smiled at John before I stepped around him to set the food down on the table. I reached into the cooler, pulling out a beer and drying it off before I opened it and took a sip.

“Oh my god I haven’t seen you forever!”

I startled, nearly spitting my beer out as my hip was bumped, and I turned to see Jane standing beside me with a smile on her face. I smiled in turn, nodding.

“Yep, been a while.”

“Which is ridiculous, I mean, we live so close by—“

“Uh huh.”

“So I have a questiooooon,” she dragged the word out like I hadn’t seen this coming, “Do you know if Will’s seeing anyone?” I paused, weighing my options as to how to respond. Before I could say anything, she added,

“Because he keeps looking over here, and I think we both know who he’s looking at.”

“I don’t know if we both know that,” I said. Jane glanced casually around the yard before she let out a little gasp, turning back to me.

“He’s coming over, play cool,” She hissed, as though I was the one having trouble being ‘cool’. I heard the cooler lid flip open, some rummaging around, and then the dull ‘thud’ of it closing.

I watched Jane’s grin widen, then fall when a hand rested on my lower back.

“There any more Heinekens, baby?” I looked down at the beer in my hand.

“Think I snagged the last one. Here,” I said, offering it him.

“You sure?” He asked. I hummed, nodding. He smiled, leaning in and kissing me before he took the beer and headed back to help John.

Jane looked stunned, and I should not have liked that feeling so much.

“Come to think of it, I do believe he’s seeing someone,” I said thoughtfully before I turned back to the cooler to find another beer.

——-

“All done back here?” I asked, stepping onto the back porch. Will looked up from where he’d been taking down the last table and nodded.

“All set,” he said, straightening. I couldn’t help the way my smile widened as he came closer. It had been nearly four months since we’d started seeing one another, but I still found myself stunned that it had happened at all.

Will stopped a step below mine and wrapping his arms around me, pressing his face into my shoulder. I reached down, running my fingers through his hair.

“Tired?” I asked. He hummed, mumbling,

“Long day.” I turned my head, pressing a kiss to his hair. I felt him smile against my skin before he tipped his chin up for a proper kiss.

“Wanna go home?” He asked. He’d started that a few weeks before, calling my place ‘home’. I never questioned it; it didn’t bother me one bit.

(If you skipped the note at the top of this part, please be warned: It gets very smutty beyond this point. If you don’t like, please do not read on! Thank you)

——-

We couldn't stop giggling, either of us. I was fumbling with my keys, trying to find the right one and cursing the fact that I had five different membership key tags and eight different keys. Let's not even get started on my keychain charms.

Will pressed close to me, hands hot on my hips, lips skimming over the back of my neck, the shell of my ear.

"What's taking you so long, huh?" He teased, thumbs dipping into the waistband of my jeans. I nearly dropped my keys after he brushed his thumb over the waistband of my underwear.

"You're kidding, right?" I huffed. I finally nudged him back, ignoring his displeased grunt as I got the door open. The two of us stumbled in, one right after the other. I stepped back to shut the door behind us. Will didn't turn to look around my apartment, only took a couple of steps back, watching me expectantly. I locked the door, tossing the keys into the bowl beside my door before I walked closer to him. I smiled as he drew me in, sliding my hands up his arms. “Oh, Will, you’re so strong,” I teased, giving his biceps a squeeze. He grunted, dipping his head and kissing the corner of my mouth. “You heard that, huh?” He murmured. I snorted. “It was brought to my attention, yeah.” “You know I only got eyes for you.” He lips wandered lower, mouthing at my collarbone. “Would you say we’ve been taking it slow?” He asked. I leaned back to get a good look at him. “I’d say we’ve been going at a glacial pace.” Will tipped his head up, kissing me so thoroughly that my toes curled. “How would you feel about speeding things up a bit?” He asked.

The trip back to my room took nearly as long as it had taken me to open the front door. By the time we made it, WIll’s shirt had long since been discarded, along with my shirt and his belt.

I nudged Will back toward my bed, grinning as he tumbled back onto it. I knelt, straddling his thighs as he sat back up.

Will’s lips wandered my neck and shoulders as I worked at his button and zip. He reached around, and I couldn’t help but snort as he fumbled with my bra. “Gimme a break, it’s been a while,” He mumbled, and I could hear the embarrassment in his voice. I reached back, unhooking my bra and shrugging it off. “You do that way too easily,” He grumbled. “I mean, I wear one, like, every day. I’ve had plenty of practice,” I said simply. Will didn’t answer, instead leaning up and taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I sighed, running my fingers through his hair as he kissed across my chest to the other. I couldn’t help but grind down where I felt him hardening in his jeans. “Will—“ I whined, but he leaned back, shushing me. “I wanna take my time.” “I thought the whole part of this was to pick up the pace,” I argued. He gave my waist a squeeze before one of his hands dipped into the back of my jeans to grip my ass. “You don’t think this is picking up the pace?” He pointed out. I huffed as I pressed back into his hands. “You know what I mean.” “Have a little patience, baby. I just wanna take care of you,” He murmured. He leaned up, brushing his lips over mine sweetly. I leaned in to the kiss. At least, I tried to. Before I could kiss him properly, he leaned away, a mischievous smile on his lips. I narrowed my eyes, leaning in for another kiss. Before I could get one, he leaned away. I pouted down at him, and he chuckled before he leaned up, giving me a teasing touch at first before he slipped his tongue between my lips. I groaned, satisfied. Will’s hands slid firmly under thighs, lifting me as he stood before turning and setting me down on my bed. His hands made short work of jeans, dropping them over the side of my bed.

Will crawled up the bed, covering my body with his own as he began to pepper me with kisses. His hands, though calloused, were gentle as they slid over me. I’d never had anyone take their time with me, or so soft. It made me feel almost embarrassed: how sweetly he was kissing me, how gentle his touches were. But try as I might, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I sucked in a quiet breath as his lips brushed the top of my panties. He gazed up at me through his lashes, a mysterious smile overtaking his lips they parted. “Oh— okay, there’s no way you’re going to be able to—“ Will cut me off with a grunt as he clasped the elastic with his teeth and pulled down. I shifted my hips to help him a bit, shaking my head and laughing in disbelief as Will leaned back with my panties between his teeth. He dropped them over the bed the way he had my jeans before he settled back down between my legs. “Wanna rethink that statement?” He teased. I rolled my eyes, lightly swatting at his head. “You’re such a show-off.” He didn’t bother with a response, instead turning his head and brushing his lips along my inner thigh. He froze when I tensed, eyes darting back to my face. “You okay?” He asked softly. I nodded hurriedly. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m uh… I’ve never had a great experience. With… That.” “What do you mean?” Will looked concerned, and my hands flew up to my face. “Can we not do this when we’re getting… You know?” I requested. There was a pause before I felt William kissing my neck again. “Sure,” He agreed. I lowered my hands from my face, drawing him into a lingering kiss. “Can you take your pants off now, please?” I requested as sweetly as I could, batting my eye lashes at him. He chuckled. “Anything you want,” He agreed, pecking my lips one more time before he leaned away again. I watched, not bothering to hide my lust as he slid off of the bed and undid his pants. “Those, too,” I ordered, waving my hand in the direction of his underwear. He chuckled, pushing them down as requested before he stepped back to the bed. I rolled onto my stomach and reached out before he could lay back down. I took hold of his dick, rubbing my thumb over the top and smearing some precum. “This alright?” I asked, glancing up at him. I didn’t get a verbal response, and I grinned at his stunned expression and hasty nod. I tipped my head up, tonguing along the vein on the underside of his cock before I took him into my mouth. Will groaned, and I echoed him as his fingers weaved through my hair. I pushed myself up on my free hand, bobbing my head as I took him in further. I felt him gather my hair, pushing it all to one side so that he could get a better look at me. “Fuck, baby,” He murmured, and I preened at the cursed praise. I couldn’t help but squeeze my thighs together, clit neglected and throbbing as I worked his penis. I took my hand off of him, bringing it down to my clit and moaning as I circled it. “Are you getting off on this?” Will asked in disbelief. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock in lieu of an answer. Will gently tugged my hair, pulling me off of his dick. He kept the pressure up until I was upright, kneeling on the bed. “You felt so good, baby,” He murmured. I was quiet as he pushed my fingers away from my clit, replacing them with his own.

“Will you let me make you feel good now?” He asked. I nodded, smiling as he wrapped his arms around me and settled me back down. “I know we were kidding before, but you are very strong and it is… Really nice. I’m enjoying it,” I said simply. He chuckled, circling my clit as I had before. “I can see that,” He teased. I leaned back against the pillows, less hesitant as I spread my legs for him. Will kissed my thighs again before he gently slipped a finger inside me. I pushed up into him as he began to pump it in and out, his thumb smoothing over my clit as he did. “Good?” He asked. I hummed in affirmation. “Think you can take another?” “Yes,” I breathed. He took his time with me, opening me up with almost methodical slowness. By the time he gotten the condom on, I was a whining mess. I couldn’t bring myself to relax, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him closer. “I’ve got you,” He murmured. I moaned as he eased into me, head dropping back into the pillow. “Fuck, look at you,” He breathed, reverent, and I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on the way our bodies fit together. Will stilled for a moment as he bottomed out, pressing his face into my neck and mouthing over my skin. “You alright?” I asked quietly. He nodded, mumbling, “Need a minute.” I ran my fingers through his hair, doing my best to hold still. I couldn’t help but squeeze around him, and he groaned, hips rolling. “You’re gonna kill me,” He laughed, leaning back to look down at me. “Least you’d be going with a bang, right?” I teased, smiling as he laughed. I surged up for a kiss, the both of us laughing still. The sound broke off into moans as he shifted his hips, pulling out most of the way before pressing back in. I met him thrust-for-painfully-slow thrust, unable to help my impatience as I ached.

“Will,” I groaned, sliding my hand down to his ass and giving it a squeeze, “Harder, please?” Will leaned back, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me up. I gasped at the change of position, sinking down onto him and tipping my head back. “Fuck,” I breathed as I fucked myself onto his cock, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and holding tightly to him. Will cupped my cheek, pulling me down into a hot kiss. His free hand snaked between his, fingers rubbing my clit relentlessly. I moaned, feeling warmth curl in the pit of my stomach.

“If you keep that up, I’m going to cum,” I warned. Will didn’t miss a beat, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me before he began to fuck into me in earnest. My jaw dropped as I watched him. “Will,” I moaned, “Fuck, right there, right— Oh!” My head fell back as my orgasm washed over me. He moaned, pressing his face into my neck. I barely felt him say my name before he came apart beneath me. He was careful as he laid me back down before he slipped out of me. I peered my eyes open, watching him disappear into the bathroom. I opened them again as I felt the bed dip, and smiled at the sight of Will laying down beside me. He pulled me into his chest, and I curled up against him. “You good?” Will asked me quietly. I hummed in affirmation, sliding my hand down to his and intertwining our fingers. “You?” I asked, tipping my head up to look at him. He smiled down at me, brushing his lips over my forehead. “Never better, baby.” Tag list: @playbucky @calirindo

#an unspoken rule #william miller #Will Miller #william miller imagine #will miller x reader #william miller x reader #triple frontier fic

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chungha-supremacist · 6 years ago

Text

No borders - Chapter 1

word count: 2565

SUMMARY:

“It’s just us 5 right?”

“Forever.”

“No men allowed… ever. Let’s promise to eachother that we will never let any man come in between us!”

“Never!”

Naive promises told at a young age, just between 5 best friends. They promised their world to eachother, “best friends ‘till death breaks us apart”. 10 Years passed. The same 5 girls, but no longer blinded by those “stupid promises”. It will be broken. The promise of a lifetime. The lust of love is what makes us all see unclear. We lose our friends, or soulmates, we fall for the unknown, we fall for lies and for the feeling of being important to someone who will drag us far away from who truly matters.

“Forget about the world… forget about them… right now, it’s only me and you. They don’t need to know that I love you.”

CATEGORY: F/F; F/M

Fandom: RED VELVET (Band), NCT (Band)

Relationships: Park Sooyoung / Kim Yerim; Bae Joohyun / Kang Seulgi; Son Seungwan / Nakamoto Yuta

Characters: Park Sooyoung; Kim Yerim, Bae Joohyun, Kang Seulgi, Son Seungwan, Seo Youngho, Jung Jaehyun, Nakamoto Yuta, Dong Si Cheng, Wong Yuk Hei, Lee Taeyong, Chung Ha

Additional Tags: friendship,angst, mistrust, lies, cheating, lesbian interactions, smut, fluff, fashion, models, rich life, etc

RATED: SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST.

CHAPTER 1

“Buckle up, LESBIANS! We’re going shopping!”

“What… the… fuck.” Says Seulgi half-asleep, looking like a mess, standing on the edge of the bed.

“Are you deaf! I need a new dress, girl, and GUESS WHAT, you and Joohyun are the only ones home!” says Yeri while waving the keychain on her index finger. Yeri has always been like this. The soul, the spirit, the jokester of the “group”. They all “hated” her extravaganza, but what could they do? After all, without Yeri, they would’ve been a mess of boring, lazy and soulless singles. She is the one that takes them to all the parties, or more to say, ‘drags them’. They met all their friends through Yeri, including most of their male friends. After all “a male is a girl’s best friend”, to quote Yeri.

“Did I just hear-“ Joohyun makes a pause while scratching her messy-morning hair, standing in the doorway. “Yerim… What a pleasant surprise…” says Joohyun through gripped teeth.

Joohyun , or ‘Irene’ as her nickname is, has never been like this. When younger, Irene was very eccentric and party-animal. She was just like Yeri. Now, years have put their pattern on her… Tired, exhausted of life… It’s true, she’s only 27 years old, she’s still a “young flower”, but her big, dark eye circles say otherwise. She doesn’t live with Seulgi, but last night it happened that these two went out drinking and Irene was too drunk for Seulgi to just let her walk to her own home like that. So she took care of her dear “best-friend” and took her to sleep in her immense penthouse.

Secret to how Yeri got into the house? Easy. All 5 of them got a spare key to eachother’s houses/apartments. And Yeri makes use of them the most.

“So…” says Yeri while serving herself with a glass of orange juice from Seulgi’s fridge. “Had a sleepover without US?” putting the accent on “us”.

“Yerim… don’t be like this.” Says Seulgi while scratching the back of her neck. “Irene just wanted to go out drinking after she got back from the photoshoot. She got drunk. I took her here so she won’t fall and break her head in her apartment or something and that was it. No sexy pajamas and cocky movies.”

“Hahaha. Knew it, y’all don’t know how to have fun without me.” Says Yeri confidently while sipping sassily on her juice.

“Bullshit.” Says Seulgi while rolling her eyes. “Anyway…what do you need a new dress for?” continues Seulgi while grabbing an apple and biting on it savurously.

“A date.”

Seulgi chokes.

“A what?”

“A date.”

“With who?”

“A handsome guy I met at my last convention. Damn you should’ve seen those magic brown eyes and-“

“Yerim!” Yeri gets starled by the small scream of Irene who was standing on top of the stairs, arms crossed. “What date… What guy…?”

“Irene.. Seulgi.. don’t worry girls… He’s nice, I promise! Y’all will be the first ones to meet him if our first date works well! PINKY PROMISE?”

“Ew… where are you? Kindergarten?” says Irene, rolling her eyes and judging the younger one.

“Grandma…” mocks Yeri while hitting the table with the glass.

“I support you…” whisper Seulgi supportively and gives Yeri a small hug.

“Thank you baby girl… You are the best! NOW COME ONE COWGIRLS! We got an uber to catch!”

Irene was wearing her signature style: always classy, in a fancy suit or a gucci dress, never wearing heels in her free time, only loafers. Seulgi on the other hand, has a different style: “boyfriend-material” as Seungwan calls her, always wearing ripped jeans, a plain t-shirt, a Gucci cap, and some sneakers. They’re both models and they encounter all types of styles and looks, but these are definitely their own pattern.

Yeri walks up in front of the two girls, proudly walking on her 10cm Louboutin heels and her short black summer dress paired with a leather jacket.

“What is she so excited for… psh.” Sighs Irene.

“Irene… let the girl be… she is 21 now. She can’t be single forever. You know Yeri, nothing will come between us and her. No guys, remember?” Reassures Seulgi while giving a small smile to Irene’s straight face.

“It’s whatever to me…” and roughly removes Seulgi’s hand from her shoulder which made Seulgi sigh at the attitude of her Unnie.

Sometimes, they all miss old Irene… More like Joohyun. Since “Adopting” this stage name, “Irene” she became cold towards her friends, stone-hearted and ignorant. This is what everyone at her work place thinks of her, but her friends know. They know the real Joohyun. They know she loves them more than her own life. They know Joohyun would risk it all for all of them. She is the Unnie and the one that keeps this “group” together.

“What do you think she’s doing….” Says the girl, impatient and walking all around the room.

“Sooyoung… can you calm down?” says Chung Ha while applying some more blush to her already rosy cheeks. “I am sure your little ‘best friend’ is probably at work or out with some friends. Why such panic when you should put on that mini-skirt.”

Chung Ha is Sooyoung’s colleague and the only “friend” she gets along with her at her work-place, the only friend she has besides her 5 best-friends. Chung Ha is definitely the most beautiful female Sooyoung has even seen and she could swear she caught herself staring at her beauty from time to time. It’s impossible not to get lost in her looks. She’s got everything you could want in a model. And this is what Chung Ha is, the face of the company where Sooyoung works. As for her, she is just an average model, with low self-confidence. When she looks at Chung Ha, she thinks “oh damn… maybe I should go to the gym more… maybe I need more make-up… maybe I need a bigger size at the bra-“. But she is just underestimating her because of her rough past.

Growing up, Sooyoung had only misfortune in her life. Being bullied since kindergarten for coming from a family with only one parent (her father), in high school suffering from all the fake rumors that she is coming from a poor family and at work… she once got a scandal at her ex-office about rumours that she “harassed” a female worker. All of these were false obviously, Sooyoung couldn’t dare to raise a finger to anyone. All she wanted in this world was to feel loved.

Sooyoung soon leaves a text-message to Yeri asking her to call back when she sees the message and then she goes out from the backstage and goes to rule the small catwalk she had to do in front of some small modelling agency managers. She nailed it, especially because before this, Chung Ha gave her some encouraging words. Chung Ha was her muse.

The curtains fall down and now its silence. There’s not a minute and Sooyoung hears the scream of her “boss”. He is not really her boss, he is just the chief of this department, he could aswell be a model, but he decided to inerhit this department from his father.

“Oh my. Congratulations Sooyoung, Chung Ha, my stars!”

“Oh my god Yuk Hei.” Says Chung Ha while doing a fake smile.

“What is it princess? Can’t take a compliment from your boss?” says Yuk Hei smirky.

“Let her be Yuk Hei…. And thank you, for the congratulations.”

“No need Joy” (Joy is how all the close ones call Sooyoung) “So… are you girls doing anything tonight?” says Yuk Hei while leaning slowly on the make-up stool and making a sign to the make-up artist to leave.

“You’re hitting on us again…” Chung Ha rolls her eyes in disgust.

“What? Who? Me? Naah. I got plenty of chicks in my hands to deal with, Chung Ha” says Yuk Hei playfully. “I was just asking because… you know…”

“You have no friends…” whispers Sooyoung with her head down.

“PARK SOOYOUNG”

“I’m sorry Yuk Hei… but isn’t this the truth. If so… Then maybe I’ll go out with you” says Sooyoung while packing her stage clothes into a workout bag.

“Ugh… I DO HAVE FRIENDS, ok? It’s just… They’re all having a night shift tonight and I just wanna celebrate with my models… What’s wrong about it?”

“Nothing, Yuk Hei… I will go with you. Chung Ha?”

Chung Ha seems to not knowledge the two of them and mumbles “I got better plans for tonight.” She takes her designer bag and leaves.

“Psh… I should fire her for this behavior…” says Yuk Hei while getting up from the seat. “What about we leave after you get changed? I will wait for you in my office, when you’re ready.” And he leaves the room which he filled with his strong, expensive cologne.

Yuk Hei is the type of young CEO who is just a spoiled brat at the first sight. You see him with ladies at poker nights and all fancied up in the most perfect-fit black suit with a little rose ready to be given to any lady that would catch his attention. He is that handsome, tall, perfect pushed back, black hair, and deep brown Chinese eyes that no body could refuse. Besides all of this, he’s got the charms, charisma, his humour is always a fine one. Sooyoung was very attracted to him at first, she could’ve sworn she will faint when she came at this agency for a modelling interview. He was standing there, scanning every move of her body. This made Sooyoung’s legs tremble and she thinks he just chose her as his model for mercy. Now, 2 years later, she sees Yuk Hei only as a good friend, and her “boss”.

Yeri just got home, after the “tiring” shopping session with her unnies. Tiring, in fact, only for her, because all Seulgi and Irene did was stare at the younger one running from store to store, trying on 10 dressed per store and buying in the end only one from the last store they went into. Yeri is happy though, she got to spend time with two of the most important persons to her and now she is at her vanity table, getting ready for her “big date”. She plays music loudly as she does her makeup so she couldn’t bother to hear the entrance door opening. Perfect timing for her evil Canadian friend to sneak in and scare the life out of Yeri.

“WENDY SON!!! I SWEAR TO THE GODS YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS-“ screams Yeri and stomps her feet to the floor like a little child who didn’t get any candy.

“Woah woah woah! What are you getting ready for, miss single?” says Wendy, with a cocky, proud smile on her face while making herself comfortable on the endge of Yeri’s bed.

“Not you business.”

Wendy grabs her hand firmly, enough to scare Yerim again and intimidates her “My business!”

Yeri is terrifyied by Wendy’s power. She is that one friend that gets everything she wants from anyone, with just a death glare. Besides that, you could easily get lost In her insanely gorgeous eyes. She is one stunning half-american girl. She is a bank accountant and she works at Yeri’s father’s company, the biggest one in Seoul.

“Ah Wendy! Stop playing games…” says Yeri poutyly. “I’m going out…”

“With? Joy?”

“NO??!!”

“Why so panicked?” Wendy smirks.

“Stupid… I’m not panicked, im just nervous. I’m going out with the most handsome guy in my agency. He’s a photographer and”

“Wait. WHAT?? YOU GOT A DATE?”

“yes…” says Yeri very confused, not knowing if Wendy is being mad or excited for her.

“That is… GREAT! Now let me redo that eyeline, you ain’t going out like that-“ and Wendy smacks the eyeliner from Yeri’s hands and positions herself good enough to give the younger one a BOMB make-up look.

Wendy is a “professional” in dating. She has dated the most men until now. 6 at count. 3 during high school and 3 during the past 4 years of work. Even so, she keeps these “Details” private to her best-friends. Why?

FLASHBACK

“They would never understand…” and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“But they are your friends Seungwan… Will you hide this from them forever?”

“I don’t want to lose you… or them…”

“If you continue like this, you will lose one of them… or maybe all. Let’s tell them.” And he wakes up to stand firmly in front of his dear one.

“Give me some more time… Please.”

“Just because I love you… but the time is ticking.” And he places a meaningful kiss on her forehead leaving her to sit alone on the cold bench in front of the Han River.

END OF FLASHBACK.

Hours and hours of getting ready, and Yeri is finally ready to go, under the splendid makeover done by Wendy.

“You looks stunning!” says Wendy while she analyses her bestie from top to bottom.

“I love you so much Seungwan! Thank you.” And she suddenly become thoughtful.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if I fail.”

“Yerim… what’s with this negativity… I don’t wanna hear none of this! You will go there and have the wildest night of your life-“ Yeri is looking at Wendy with big eyes.

“W-wild?”

“I mean- Yeah. Wild.”

“What do you mean by-“

“OH MY LOOK AT THE TIME!” says Wendy, flustered and drags Yeri to the door.

All the details are done and now she is ready to head to the door, right when the doorbell rings.

“Uhm. Is he supposed to come pick you up”

“Yes. I think that’s him.” Says Yeri while staring blankly at the door, not knowing what to do.

“then… WHY ARE U STANDING AND NOT GOING TO OPEN?” says Wendy is a quiet scream.

“SHH! Ok, ok ima go.”

And she opens the door, leaving sight to one of the most beautiful man they have ever seen. Or at least, Wendy has seen. She was standing awkwardly in the back of Yeri, staring the man down. It was a male in his 25s, dressed not very fancy, but definitely breathtaking as he was wearing a nice white shirt, complimenting one of the tiniest waist Wendy has ever seen at a male, some black jeans that looked like they were made to be worn by him and only him and a denim jacket falling over one of this shoulders. His cologne already made Wendy zone out and now that she is done scanning his body, she gets to the face, a face that stuns her beyond words. “The prettiest man alive” she tought to herself.

All her thoughts are now faded as she finds herself alone in the room. “Did they leave?” She must’ve zoned out way too much that Yeri and the handsome man already left. Did she really catch herself looking at the man Yeri is dating?? Yeri, her best friend?? “This can’t be possible…” she tells to herself as she leans thoughtful on the sofa. She feels sad. She feels disappointed in herself but yet, she really can’t take her mind off the man she has just seen. She ends up falling sleep in Yeri’s apartment, on her sofa, sunk deep in thoughts and questions.

#red velvet #nct #red velvet fanfic #red velvet scenario #nct scenario #kpop

7 notes · View notes

mikeshanlon · 7 years ago

Text

he’s all that: chapter two

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 5k

one | on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

—

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. also this chapter there is mentions to maggie being an alcoholic.

a/n: hey! decided to post two weeks in a row just to get the ball rolling (which is why i still dont have all the chapters figured out as promised, my apologies). i'll probably start the every other week thing for next update (so chapter three should be up by march 4th). i would try to do every week but im a college student who has Stuff to do and also makes gifs and im horrible at finishing my writing so, giving myself a realistic deadline that will still hopefully produce quality work. anyways, richie and eddie finally interact this chapter! it's....................... a bit messy though. and we get to see the rest of the losers club in this one too.

tag list: @richietoaster, @wintersember, @howellhxlic, @ed-txzier, @clara-farl3y

After standing in the hallway arguing with Bev for ten minutes, (“I mean really Bevs, fuck!” “You said anyone.” “How do we even know he’s gay?!” “Richie, please.”) Richie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to find some way to charm Eddie. Maybe Beverly would let him borrow that spellbook she bought junior year when she had become obsessed with witchcraft and hexing the patriarchy.

Once school was finally over, Richie dropped off Mike at his farm per usual, ranting about the bet the whole ride over. The farm boy nodded along, but he knew the words ‘told you so’ sat on the tip of his tongue.

They pulled up to his house, the engine idling so he wouldn’t have to spend time getting it to start again, “Don’t wait up for me tonight if you wanna smoke. Got lotsa research in store,” Richie said as Mike grabbed his backpack and got out of the car.

Mike raised a brow, leaning into the passenger window (which in its broken state always stayed down), “I’m surprised Rich. You never do your homework.”

“Homework shmomwork,” he tapped the end of his cigarette out the window before taking another drag, “Gotta figure out what little ol’ Edward likes. Time for some deep dark internet exploration.”

“Ah, you’re gonna stalk him. Wasting time on social media does sound much more in character,” Mike smiled.

“It’s not a waste Mikey darlin’, a shit ton of preemo dank is on the line.”

The other boy laughed and shook his head, “Godspeed Tozier.”

Richie saluted Mike as he reversed out back to the main road, Bigmouth Strikes Again blasting on the old car radio.

He weaved through the streets filled with kids walking home or trying to find something to do in this shit-hole town. Long afternoons spent at The Aladdin watching the newest releases or aggressively slamming his fingers down on his favorite game at the arcade came to mind; along with going out of his way to bother just about everyone in his path. Richie never really had many friends when he was younger, spending most of his time alone. He was grateful he crossed paths with Bev and Mike, to fate, luck, God if it existed. The universe was rarely kind to him, but finding them was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Plus, the first time he had smoked weed, but that was with them too.

Turning onto his street, Richie pulled up to the unsuspecting two-story white house. It was straight out of a handbook on the American Dream; but the closer one looked, the imperfections started to appear.

The box overflowing with bottles once filled with alcohol next to the recycling bin, which was already too full with more empty bottles. A crooked ‘Home Sweet Home’ sign by the front door. Dying grass, overgrown and conquered with the little weeds Richie used to make wishes on before blowing the seeds into the summer air (I wish for friends. I wish for better parents. I wish to be loved).

He parked the station wagon on the curb, saving the space next to his Mom’s car for his father.

Maggie’s car hadn’t been driven in months (years?), and Richie absently wondered if it would even work anymore. It was nice, a decent heater and it drove well, at least it did when she had bothered to drop him off at school as a kid. Despite her general lack of care for the wellbeing of others, Mrs. Tozier did not drink and drive. Meaning, she didn’t drive at all, as she was drunk off her ass most of the time.

Richie grabbed his books from the backseat and clambered out, fumbling to find his house key among the mess of weird keychains he bought while high.

He didn’t bother stating his presence, even as a pretense, giving up the habit long ago.

Maggie Tozier sat outside, her back facing the screen door in the kitchen. A cigarette rested from her fingertips, and Richie wasn’t sure if she was actually smoking it or just watching it burn. Of course, her other hand gripped a bottle of beer, and a wine cooler sat at her feet.

Richie scoffed and bounded up the stairs to his room, a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign and band posters adorning the door.

It was often said that one’s room reflected who they were as a person, and Richie was no exception. That is, to say, his room was an absolute fucking mess. His bed was never made, and clothes and knick knacks littered the floor (he had already tripped over some beat up sneakers as he walked in). Old mugs, comics, a lava lamp, lotion, and an ashtray Bev had made him in ceramics sat on his bedside table (read: an old wooden apple carton). The only thing that he kept clear was his record player and vinyls at the edge of the bed, which were meticulously organized.

He tossed his notebooks on his desk, alongside stolen pens, his laptop, and his bong. If his parents actually fucking talked to him he would bother to hide his shit, but it didn’t really matter.

Picking up his laptop and its charger, Richie was on his way out again. He could stay home to conduct his research, but he hated the stuffiness and how lifeless the house felt. It wasn’t really even a home, at least not his. Plus, coffee. It was a necessity, especially for the amount of bullshit he’d have to go through just for the tiny brat.

Richie drove to the Starbucks on Main and Belmont, strolling up to barista and ordering his usual: venti quadruple-shot, black. While he often gorged himself on sweets, his need for caffeine could only be sated by the purest form the coffeeshop could offer.

Per usual, the barista gave him a look, “You sure?”

“Listen, I’ve already made a shit ton of horrible decisions today. Trust me, this is not the worst of them,” Richie answered, sliding the cash across the counter

She raised her brows but said nothing else, handing him the change.

He set up shop at a table by the window in the back, away enough from the other patrons. Most of the time Richie threw caution to the wind, but he figured it would suspicious if someone saw him furiously stalking someone who looked like they hadn’t even graduated from middle school.

After retrieving his coffee, opening his MacBook, and plugging his headphones in, Richie scoured Instagram first. ‘Eddie.k’ didn’t post much, mostly some artsy photos, including ones of Bill and Stanley Uris (their other best friend). There were only one or two selfies, much to Richie’s disappointment. Eddie wasn’t actually too bad looking if you ignored his clothes, his hair, his… everything. Freckles dusted his face, concentrated around his little nose, a few on his lips. Cute lips. Cute cheeks. He had the urge to pinch them. But Jesus, that combover. What was he, a balding man in the 80’s?

Other than those pictures, Eddie hadn’t really posted to Instagram in months. He moved onto his tagged photos. They had some more substance, although Eddie had pretty much only been tagged in pictures by Bill and Stan. It wasn’t like Richie wasn’t in the same boat of having only a few close friends, but at least he hung out with other people.

For the most part, the pictures were pretty normal, the three of them hanging out. Richie couldn’t help but snort at a picture of the three, presumably after a sleepover. They looked exhausted, hair messy, and were brushing their teeth. Pretty mundane, but Eddie had pulled a ridiculous face in the mirror. It was silly, but Richie hadn’t even thought Eddie was capable of making jokes or doing weird shit. The fucker was always uptight, serious even when they had a substitute. Unsurprisingly, Eddie did not appreciate the post.

eddie.k: literally stan delete this!!!!!!

stantheman: @eddie.k, sorry sweatie (:

Richie grinned and continued to scroll, stopping at a picture of Eddie lying down on the grass, laughing. He wore a red tracksuit, the one students wore to P.E. when the bitter chill of autumn came to Derry. His hair must’ve been a little sweaty, because it was curling up into a messy halo around his grinning face. Richie wanted to know this Eddie, see him curl up laughing, but he knew that would never happen.

He perused their profiles for a while before growing bored, downing a third of his coffee before moving on. Except Eddie didn’t seem to have a Twitter, or a Snapchat. A quick google search of his name only came up with a few images and… a Facebook profile?

Richie prayed that it was an old one Eddie had never deleted, but after the page loaded he saw that the most recent status was made last night.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered to himself.

Eddie’s profile picture made him look particularly child-like, a weird picture of him pointing to the camera like he was cool, even though the same hand had a clunky old watch wrapped around it. His header picture displayed the quote ‘there is bravery in being soft’.

Richie snorted, “Yeah, a soft fucking dick!”

Another patron scoffed at his fowl mouth, and he shot her a smug grin.

Eddie only had 40 friends on the site, which consisted of Bill, Stan, some of the other nerds at Derry High, and his mother and her friends. It wasn’t like someone’s Facebook friends actually mattered, especially because only middle aged mothers who posted minion memes about their alcoholism used it anymore, but it was still kinda pitiful.

His posts were generally uninteresting, stuff like ‘super nervous for the math test’, or ‘soooooooooooo bored ://///’. Otherwise, he mostly just shared pictures of cute dogs and DIY videos.

It was hard to find any useful information on Eddie, since he obviously lied a lot. Not in the way of bragging, or saying that he did things he didn’t (like Richie did). But there were comments from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s friends calling him a lady killer, or a few posts calling Carly Rae Jepsen cute (please, Run Away With Me is the one of gayest songs of all time). Eddie was closeted, and Richie knew from experience that someone could never really be themselves around others if they weren’t out.

What his profile lacked in useable information, it more than made up with blackmail material.

Take, for instance, little Eddie in possibly the gayest fucking hat imaginable.

He screeched as he saw the picture of the eleven year old, a white fedora-bucket hat hybrid sitting atop his tiny head, before breaking out into a full on wheeze. Richie was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and then he thought about Eddie using his inhaler in that gay ass hat and laughed even harder.

The other customers began to stare, some concerned, and others pissed off at the disturbance.

Once he had collected himself somewhat, Richie sent a screenshot to the group chat.

the losers

bev: oh my fucking G O D

richie: I CANT FUCKIN BREATHE ELRNKKLNERG

richie: LIKE F U C K !!! KLJKLGRJKLLEJK

richie: LOOK AT HIS GAY HAT

richie: LIKE, IT’S GAYER THAN WEARING NOTHING BUT A PRIDE FLAG AND GLITTER

richie: HE LOOKS LIKE A TWINKY SKIPPER

richie: HOW IS THAT HAT MORE GAY THAN EVERY SINGLE ONE RYAN EVANS WORE IN THE ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FRANCHISE COMBINED

bev: i’m muting you

mike: me too

mike: also that hat isn’t that bad

“‘Not that bad?!’” Richie squawked, not that he’d be able to hear him.

(Really, Richie had no authority on the subject. He still donned the occasional Hawaiian shirt over his tees).

He refreshed Eddie’s profile, seeing that he had made a new status.

Eddie Kaspbrak: big night friday, nervous but excited !!!!

Richie raised his brows in intrigue, seeing that Bill and a handful of other people liked the status. What was going on Friday?

He checked to see if Bill had posted anything, if Eddie was going somewhere, chances were Bill was too.

Bill Denbrough: almost the weekend, finally ready to let loose

Seriously, it would’ve been so much easier if Bill was the guy Richie had to woo. Kid was probably fucking nervous for a party, a place where you threw caution to the wind and had a good time. Still, he made a mental note about finding out what their Friday plans were.

Richie sighed, taking another swig of his coffee, “God, what a fucking loser.”

Suddenly, his headphones were being tugged out of his ear by an angry middle-aged woman with short-layered hair and eye bags.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Richie glared, snatching back his headphones.

The woman returned the look, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t you have respect for the other customers?!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have respect for myself, let alone some PTA moms-- like the post-divorce haircut by the way.”

Apparently, his finger guns did not soften the blow, because the lady started to scream at him.

And, apparently, this lady was also the manager, and was pushing him out the door.

So great, Eddie and his dumb gay hat got him banned from Starbucks.

Even though he was wounded from Eddie’s betrayal, (because Richie getting kicked out was definitely not his fault-- it was Eddie’s homosexual headwear. An anthropomorphic device of chaos, that Eddie owned, so, yeah, it was Kaspbrak’s fucking fault.) Richie still skipped smoking on Thursday to spend his lunch with the tiny fuck.

Obviously, they hadn’t made plans to do so, but Richie had, and he really couldn’t delay starting the bet. There was a lot on the line.

So, after getting out of econ (turning in an unstudied for but probably aced quiz), and throwing his shit in his locker, Richie detoured to the cafeteria.

The place was a fucking mess, and it reminded Richie just why he avoided the place. It was pure chaos, loud and overwhelming, a million things to get distracted by. Freshman with their stupid rolling backpacks kept whizzing by, making Richie trip or get his feet ran over. The tables were already filled, the honor roll kids, the partiers, Gretta and her gang. Fucking cliches.

He got in line, picking up a tray and proceeding to fiddle with the buttons at the cuff of his black and white flannel; trying to tune out the buzz of conversation. It was weird, at parties he thrived on the noise and disorder, but here all it was doing was fucking with his ADHD.

Richie drummed a beat onto his tray as the line moved forward and picked the most edible looking slop from the menu. The lunch lady glowered at him as he reached for his money only to realize he had put it in the other pocket, fumbling to put the bills and coins on the counter.

As she put the money in the register, Richie looked around the room, checking to see where Eddie was sitting. He was sat near one of the exits, carefully taking out his lunch and swinging his legs. And he was alone. Perfect.

“Kid, do you want a receipt or not?” the lunch lady snapped from across from him.

Richie blinked back into focus, “Uh, sure, sorry.”

She sighed and printed out the receipt, slamming it down on the tray, “Next!”

Grabbing his tray, Richie plucked up some plastic cutlery and made his way through the sea of students to Eddie Kaspbrak. He had to twist and lift his tray a bit, but eventually the crowds started to part a bit. A chorus of whispers started to erupt. Stupid small town.

“Is that Richie Tozier?”

“I think, but doesn’t he always get high with his stoner friends?”

“What is he doing here?”

“God, he’s so hot.”

Richie smirked, sending a wink at the girl’s praise before sitting across from Eddie. He watched for a moment as the boy continued to focus on on unpacking his utensils and napkins before clearing his throat.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up from his lunchbox, widening when he saw Richie.

“What the fuck?” It was meant to be a whisper to himself, but Eddie’s voice was louder than expected.

Richie grinned at the blushing boy, “Well, hello to you to Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, returning to his food.

Richie waited for him to say something else, at least fucking look at him, but the little fuck kept his eyes glued to his grapes, nails aggressively ripping the fruit from their stems.

“Okay,” he started, taking a sip of his apple juice, “So, you may be wondering why I’m sitting with you—“

Eddie interrupted, annoyance apparent in every fiber of his being, “Is this gonna be quick or not?”

“I’m hoping it’s not quick, although given how hot I am it’s difficult for people to control themselves.”

A long, deep sigh came from Eddie’s (cute, soft) lips. Eddie grabbed at Richie’s hands, flipping them over so that the palms faced upwards.

“Wow, a bit forward, but I’m liking your style Kaspbrak,” Richie winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes and proceed to take out hand sanitizer from his fanny pack, squirting the floral scented product into Richie’s hands.

Honestly, what the fuck?

He must’ve sent the same message to Eddie with his face, because Eddie said, “You obviously aren’t gonna leave me the fuck alone, and if you’re gonna be in my space, you need to be clean.”

Richie raised a brow at this but rubbed the hand sanitizer into his hands anyways.

Jesus Christ, what a weird, defensive little bitch.

Eddie watched with focused eyes, and only spoke when Richie was finished.

“Continue.”

It took a moment for Richie to gain his bearings once more. This mission seemed dead on arrival, but he had to keep trying anyways.

“So, Eddie…” Richie trailed off, twirling the pasta on his plate before his eyes lit up, “Eddie Spaghetti, Eduardo, what’s up?”

Eddie scowled, “That’s not my fucking name!” he squeaked, “And ‘what’s up?’ I mean, we’ve barely even talked before. You think I’m just gonna put up with this because you’re Richie Tozier? I swear to god, if this is some fucking bullying thing...”

Around them, people began to stare and eavesdrop at the sound of Eddie yelling. Fucking perfect.

Richie blinked back at the boy across from him, now red in the face for a different reason, “Calm down, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Fat fucking chance.”

Okay, wow. Richie had more work cut out for him than expected. He thought of what to say next as he watched Eddie finish his grapes.

“This isn’t, like, a joke,” (it wasn’t real either), “I just wanna hang out.”

“Hang out?” Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes met Richie’s, his tone mocking.

Richie nodded, “Yeah, ya know, kick it with the homies. Make out a little if you’re down. Friend stuff.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, “You’re unbelievable. Just fucking unbe— you know, how can you even say any of that shit? How can we be ‘homies’ if we’ve never ‘hung out’ before? And don’t want to-- I’m not-- you don’t know me!”

There was something underlying in Eddie’s voice as he snapped, wavering at the end. Richie, like most things in life, was completely and utterly fucking up.

“Well then, how about we fix that?” Richie leaned forward, “I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna—“

Abruptly, Eddie stood up, grabbing his food and walked off, making his way towards the cafeteria line where Bill and Stan were paying for their lunch.

Richie looked around at all the watching faces, some snickering and others as shocked as he was.

“...Embarrass me horribly in front of all these people.”

He took a deep breath, and shoved some spaghetti in his mouth, his frown growing larger at the disgusting taste. Richie was often considered a wild card, but this was when routine was a good thing. He should’ve just avoided this and sparked up with Bev and Mike.

Actually, he was going to do just that. There was still some left in lunch, and no reason for him to stay in the cafeteria if Eddie was giving him the cold shoulder. More like a giant fucking iceberg but still, pointless. Besides, he really needed to get high now. Eddie ruined his whole mood and pissed him the fuck off.

Richie got up and tossed out the inedible garbage before going to the usual spot, finger itching for a joint.

He used his foot to push open the door, which would’ve been cool, except with his clumsiness and horrible luck he tripped forward, narrowly avoiding falling down the steps and face planting by grabbing the railing.

As Richie caught his breath and stabilized himself, he could hear his friends laughing.

“Back so soon?” Bev smirked knowingly, taking a drag.

Richie huffed, “Ha ha. Let’s yuck it up for my misfortune,” he grabbed her joint and took a long hit, “This fucking kid, Bev. I don’t think I can do this!”

“As in, you’re morally incapable of leading him on?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Please, let’s be realistic here Mikey. No, that kid is like, the fuckin devil incarnate. Shithead is fucking crazy!” Richie paced, smoking from the joint.

Bev laughed, ��What makes you say that?”

“Why don’t ya ask the whole fucking school?” Richie snapped, though the anger wasn’t directed at her, “They were watching it all go down. If that wheezy asshole ruins my reputation—“

“What reputation?” Mike interjected.

Richie rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

Another voice spoke up, “I dunno, Richie’s pretty well known. I like him well enough.”

Richie whirled around, just noticing a new face among the usual group, Ben Hanscom.

The eternal new kid, since no one ever moved to ass backwards Derry, was not someone he’d expect to be behind the art building. Maybe reciting poetry or some shit, but not blazing. Ben was sweet and genuine, albeit a little shy. He was no longer the chubby kid he once was, more stocky and muscular now. They weren’t too close, as the tawny haired boy spent more time with Mike and Bev, and if not them, the other dorks (like Eddie and his friends). But either way, dude was pretty chill. Richie just didn’t really want him there mid-meltdown.

“Haystack?! You smoke?!” he whistled, “Ho-ly shit, who woulda thought!”

Ben shook his head, “Uh, no I don’t. Mike and I just had to study for history next block.”

His deep brown eyes flitted to Beverly, who had now stolen back her joint and was playing with the key that hung from her neck. Yeah, studying was the only reason. Not Ben’s excruciatingly obvious crush on the red head.

“We would’ve just gone to the library, but Bev and I made a bet about if you’d be successful or not today,” Mike said.

Richie gasped, “Betting on my failure? Fuck you guys, Benny Boy is my new best friend.”

“I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Hey, I bet on you succeeding,” Mike put his hands up in surrender, “She’s the one who thought you’d screw it up.”

“And I was right. Pay up,” Bev smiled, holding out her palm.

Mike dropped a candy bar in it with a deep sigh. She tore open the wrapping, taking a savage bite of the chocolatey sweet.

“I think you have a gambling problem,” Mike quipped.

Bev shrugged, “Not a problem if I keep winning.”

She grinned, her teeth covered in chocolate and spit. Gross. Ben still looked enraptured. Double gross.

“Anyways, can we focus on the important bet, and the fact that this fuck is impossible! Seriously, Bev, babygirl, pick anyone else!” Richie whined, plopping his bony ass on the cement.

“First off, don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” she flicked the ash off the end of the joint at him, “Second, the deal was anyone. You either woo him or you don’t.”

Richie opened his mouth to complain again but Ben beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, but what are we talking about?”

The other three looked at each other in panic. Ben was friends with Eddie, there was no way he could find out what was going on. The whole thing would be ruined before it started.

“Nothin!” Richie squeaked, “Just uh… bet that I couldn’t ace a group project. I usually just bullshit a lot of that stuff and leave it up to the others if I can. Partner’s just a little… high strung.”

Bev groaned and Mike sighed. A horrible fucking lie. Richie was already trying to formulate a better one in his head.

Ben smiled, “That’s nice, a wholesome, supportive bet. But you really should just communicate with your partner. They might be nervous because of your history is all.”

Richie let out a sound of relief before realizing Ben’s advice could actually be helpful.

“Sure, but I already tried to talk to him and it didn’t go well,” he explained.

Bev and Mike raised their brows, catching on.

“Well, how did you talk to him?” Ben asked, “Was it an ambush or a friendly conversation?

Bev snorted, “Ambush, knowing Richie. He doesn’t do friendly conversations.”

“Maybe with you, because you’re on my ass all the time,” Richie shot back, “But uh, she’s right. Shouldn’t matter though, everyone knows that’s how Tough Guy Tozier does his business.”

Mike groaned, “Please don’t call yourself that ever again.”

“You’re just coming on too strong. You have to consider what he likes, what he wants. A good partnership comes with compromise and communication,” Ben nodded sagely.

Richie ruffled his hair, putting on his trusty British voice, “Thank you Advisor Hanscom. Your wisdom is greatly appreciated.”

Ben smiled awkwardly, his eyes going to Bev once again, “Course.”

He took the joint from Bev, inhaling the musty smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, the burning sensation familiar and welcome.

“And maybe, you should talk to him sober next time,” Mike suggested.

Richie laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

By the time the final bell rang, he was still feeling defeated and unsure of his next move. Sure, he’d have to dial back his trashmouth charm, try to seem actually invested in Eddie but… that wasn’t going to happen if the brat never talked to him again. Richie had to find a way to break the tension between them, start fresh.

He sulked to his locker, pulling out his shit from the looming mess. Loose binder paper and pencils fell onto the ground, and Richie just wanted to bang his head against the wall of metal. Also, go home and smoke while playing video games but, mostly, hit his head repeatedly. Maybe he’d lose enough brain cells to forget the entire day.

After a few moments of excessive cursing, Richie grabbed what he needed and got everything that fell back into the locker. He noticed a new post it on the door just before he closed it.

Don’t give up :) <3 - mike

Richie smiled, and slammed the locker shut with a resounding clang. With a little stretch and a fix of his glasses, he strolled through the halls, making his way to the parking lot to wait for Mike.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill and Stan loitering around the halls as well, engaged in (an undoubtedly boring) conversation.

He remembered Bill and Eddie’s facebook status’ about exciting plans for tomorrow night and decided he should investigate.

“Billiam! Staniel!” Richie called as he approached them, “What’s up?”

The two stopped talking and looked up, Bill smiling while Stan rolled his eyes.

“H-hey, Richie,” Bill waved. Richie noted that his stutter had gotten a lot better just over the past year. The two of them had shared a few classes when they were juniors and were pretty friendly with one another. At least compared to his relationship with Eddie and Stan, who also seemed to hate him for no reason.

Speaking of, the prim and proper boy was glaring at him, “Didn’t get enough of being a nuisance at lunch?”

Richie raised a brow, “Whatever do you mean?”

Stan scoffed, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bill put a hand on his shoulder, “N-nothing. Stan’s just… on edge. What’s up w-with you?”

“Not much, just trying to figure out what my plans are for tomorrow,” Richie shrugged, “Got any suggestions?”

“The only thing on your mind is where to party? Not surprised,” Stan quipped.

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue. Snapping at Eddie was what caused his whole operation to go south, and he couldn’t mess up this second chance.

Bill ignored the tension between them, “Well, usually w-we don’t do t-t-too m-much, but it’s s-senior year. Probably going to Peter Gordon's party.”

“That kid’s an ass.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Stan commented, his arms crossed.

His grinned, “Well, yeah, I am Rich.”

Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, he is, but he’s also s-super wealthy,” Bill avoided another ‘rich’ pun, “Meaning he’ll h-h-ave q-q-quality shit.”

Richie beamed, “Ah, I get it. You’re Robin Hood-ing that fuck. I like your style Billy Boy.”

He clapped Bill on the shoulder, and the other boy blushed slightly, “W-well, it wasn’t j-just my idea. Eddie and Stan helped.”

“Eddie? He’s coming with you guys?”

Bill shook his head, “N-no. He was supposed to, b-b-but that art thing came up so he h-had to cancel.”

“Art thing?” Richie asked, suddenly intrigued. This was the information he wanted.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded, “It’s this show that happens every month. At Jester Theatre. He always goes.”

Stan not so subtly elbowed Bill in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.

“W-what?!”

“Yeah, what’s got your steamed panties in a twist Uris?” Richie smirked.

Stan sent him a scowl, “You know very well Tozier. Eddie told us all about what you did at lunch. Back the fuck off.”

“S-stan, I don’t think he meant--”

“No, Bill, he did,” Stan interrupted, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you hurt him…”

Richie put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt him. He seems pretty strong anyways. I mean no harm.”

Stan didn’t look convinced at all. Fair enough.

The air between the two was tense, but Bill broke it by clearing his throat, “So, uh, will w-we see you at the p-p-party?”

Richie shook his head ‘no’, “Probably not. I have some more sophisticated plans lined up.”

a/n: hope you liked it! next chapter is p much all richie and eddie so get excited. if you enjoyed i would love hearing your feedback

oh and this is eddie’s gay hat if you were curious

#reddie #reddie fic #he's all that #my writing #it fic #yeah still have no idea how to tag this

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intangible-rice · 8 years ago

Text

Red Right Hand

Just a small little offering for Caroline Appreciation Day, to make up for the fact that I didn’t participate last year. It’s a short little one-shot which is somewhat disjointed and where not much happens, but hopefully it’s at least mildly interesting. The title is a hastily chosen Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds lyric.

Caroline listens to the wind whistle through the trees in the distance, trying not to notice how similar its sound is to whispers. She tenses as she hears it approach, rushing in through the driver’s side window and whipping her graying hair all around. Her ears sting from the chill, but there isn’t much she can do to keep out the cold - she needs something to keep her awake, and the radio would be too conspicuous.

She should have brought coffee, she thinks. If she’d had time to make some. If she had time to do anything besides worry nowadays. She stares up at the moon. Almost full, she thinks. Or was it full yesterday? Perhaps it’s waning. Waning. The word sticks in her head until she’s forced to look away, her face a mixture of anger and worry.

She stares at the dashboard instead, at the aging plastic coating, the worn stitching on the steering wheel. She aimlessly runs her finger along the rabbit’s foot keychain that hangs down from the ignition. It was just like Cave to buy a silly good-luck charm like this. Caroline tries to remember when exactly it was that he purchased it. Probably the time they’d detoured through Vegas, on the way back from some business trip or other, when they’d admired the glittering lights on the strip and marveled at the myriad forms of entertainment all around. They hadn’t spent very long there, but Caroline remembers her boss throwing a nickel or two into the slots. He’d probably swung by the gift shop afterwards, acquiring a kitschy trinket before getting back on the road and making offhanded comments as they passed the shotgun wedding chapels. Comments that Caroline now wishes she’d paid more attention to.

A faint glow appears in the distance, soon distinguishing itself as two car headlights. The lights inch forward slowly, and Caroline sits up in the driver’s seat. A second later, they disappear completely. Caroline counts under her breath. “One... two... three... four...” Suddenly the headlights return, flickering on and off a few times before the horizon returns to darkness. “About time,” Caroline mutters as she twists the key at the end of the rabbit’s foot and does the same routine with her own headlights.

She shifts the car into gear and places her foot on the gas. “Easy does it,” she still inadvertently hears in her head, even though it’s been years since she’s needed Cave’s direction.

“You’re kidding, right?” she remembers her boss saying when she’d told him. “Whaddya mean you don’t know how to drive?”

The look of bewilderment on his face had been in stark contrast to Caroline’s own nonchalant reaction. She’d explained to him that it simply hadn’t seemed important for her to learn. Before working at Aperture, she could never have afforded a car, and luckily the town’s old bus routes hadn’t been changed from the days when miners used to take them to get out to work. Driving just hadn’t ever seemed necessary, especially since she left the facility so infrequently nowadays.

“But that’s ridiculous!” Cave had protested. “What if some emergency happens? Everybody evacuates and then you’re just gonna stand in the parking lot waiting on a timetable? You’ll be mantis meat in no time! Or what if you gotta get somewhere where there ain’t no bus?”

“Where am I going to go, sir?” Caroline asked, shrugging her shoulders. “I just don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Well dammit, I do!” Cave said, opening a drawer in his desk and grabbing ahold of the rabbit’s foot. “Clear off your calendar for the afternoon, because you’re gonna learn!”

Caroline was taken aback, but she knew there was no talking Cave Johnson out of an idea once he’d gotten it in his head. So before long, the two of them were in the parking lot, sitting in the same car Caroline was now inching down the remote woodland road into the darkness.

Caroline remembers not hearing a word of her boss’s instructions initially - she was too flustered by the whole scenario. Here she was, called on to do something she was completely unfamiliar with, and with absolutely no time to prepare. She’d always prided herself on how smoothly she handled everything in her job - even in a place where an experimental error could lead to any number of unbelievable mishaps, Caroline let nothing phase her. She was always prepared for anything; a feat that Cave marveled at as effortless, but that in reality took several rounds of careful study, organization and preparation. And that adept, collected exterior was about to come completely apart as soon as her boss realized she had no idea what to do with a simple little car.

Her first attempt to move forward just resulted in revving the engine uselessly, until Cave informed her that she had to put the car in drive first. Flustered, she followed his instructions, and gave a small yelp of surprise when the car moved forward as soon as her foot was off the brake. By then, her face was beet red. She waited for the inevitable signal from her boss to scrap the whole idea and head inside. But surprisingly, Cave didn’t give up on her. He didn’t laugh or yell at what she herself viewed as gross incompetence. As they circled the parking lot over and over, he continued to give patient instructions, peppered by some tales from the driving lessons of his own youth, and an occasional grab of the steering wheel to demonstrate something.

By the end of the whole thing, Caroline was calm, calmer than she’d ever expected to be from something that had seemed so daunting. Her boss smiled at her, and she felt proud - somehow prouder even than when she’d gotten the same sort of praise for finding a loophole in the test subject contracts, or pulling off the increasingly-miraculous task of balancing the budget each month.

“Atta girl,” Cave had said, smiling warmly at her. “Now, whaddya say we try taking a spin into town?”

That was the first time Caroline had left the facility in years, she reminisces as she pulls up alongside the car with darkened headlights. But certainly not the last. She’d only been confidently driving for a short time before Cave asked her for the first favor.

“Look, Caroline, this is good for everyone,” she remembers him arguing. “They’re about to be investigated, and there’s things they don’t want to fall into the wrong hands. You remember how that was - we had to destroy some of our best work to keep those idiots in Washington from shutting us down. Do you really want that to happen to another company?”

“Mr. Johnson, I just don’t know that -”

“They’ve got science to get rid of, and we’ve got science to do,” Cave reminded, characteristically cutting her off before she could get her protests out. “They’re not even gonna charge us for it, since we’re doing them a favor.”

Caroline hadn’t answered, knowing that she would just get shot down again if she tried to open her mouth.

“Caroline, I’ve seen the ledgers,” Cave reminded. “We’re never gonna get a better deal than this.”

She sighed.

“You wanna keep this company alive, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Mr. Johnson,” she replied. “But how...” She paused, knowing her boss’s attitude towards what she was about to say. “How do we know it’s safe?”

If anyone else had asked that question, they’d be fumbling their way to the parking lot with a hastily-packed box of belongings within ten minutes, their boss shouting insults at them the whole way out. Caroline, however, could at least get her boss to swallow a little bit of his bravado - not a lot, but enough to cut through the charades to get to the truth.

“We don’t,” he answered her simply. “No different than half the things we’ve done in the past around here,” he added as a way of revealing his annoyance at her question.

“But it is different, Mr. Johnson,” Caroline had argued. “It’s different when we just barely made it out of a high-profile investigation by the skin of our teeth. When we’d be working with outsiders that we don’t know if we can trust. And when we’ll be taking things from them that we’re just gambling on being useful rather than being one test away from killing us all. And not to mention when the government’s probably still watching our every move.”

“That’s why I want you to do it,” Cave had said matter-of-factly. “I can’t go out there - you’re right, they’re probably watching me like a hawk. And I don’t trust anyone else around here with something this important. With you, I know it’ll go off without a hitch. And if something goes wrong, I know you’re smart enough to see that and get out of there.”

Caroline remembers thinking that his response was both too simplistic and too optimistic, but also that she could already feel her shoulders loosening. It should have taken more than this to sway her - a few carefully chosen words, a plea for science, and a small showing of gratitude shouldn’t have gotten her boss anywhere towards her agreeing to such a ridiculous idea.

“Come on, can you imagine what would happen if I sent Greg out there?” Cave added, and as Caroline felt the hint of a smile creep across her face, she knew her chances of arguing any further were gone.

And that’s how she’d ended up repeatedly doing one of the most dangerous jobs she could ever think of, driving out in the middle of the night to receive god-knows-what from god-knows-who under the cover of silence and darkness. For the last decade or so she’d served as a glorified mule for anyone who needed to unload something quick with no questions asked. It was a familiar routine by now, though not one that she ever grew more comfortable with.

But tonight is different. Tonight, Caroline isn’t just taking something off someone’s hands. She’s also giving something in return.

“You got it?” a voice asks as she steps out of the car. The figure asking is cloaked in the night’s shadows, but Caroline can see enough to know that it’s tall, broadly built, and not alone - two other shadows bookend it on either side, no less muscular. Caroline tells herself not to let it phase her - some contacts have brought backup before. The chances of them wanting to hurt her are far less than of them being equally uneasy about meeting a stranger in the dead of night to hand over something volatile and incriminating. Caroline finds herself wondering why backup was never discussed as an option on her end.

“You first,” she replies to the figure, trying to keep herself from rolling her eyes at how ridiculously cliched this entire interaction is.

The two backup shadows move to one end of their car, opening the trunk and grunting as they extract a large metal container. They remove the lid, and signal Caroline to approach. She moves slowly in the dark, careful not to trip on an unseen branch or rock. She hopes the effect looks more dramatic to an outsider, and less like what it actually is, the deliberate and guarded movements of a woman with aging eyes.

She leans over slightly to peer into the container, and there they are - dozens of gray, lumpy, pitted, and wholly unremarkable rocks. Caroline nods. “Good,” she says, as if it actually is. As if this ridiculous box of contraband is actually the goldmine her boss thinks it is. As if staking the future of the company on foreign sediment is a positive thing.

“And you?” one of the keepers of the rocks asks impatiently.

Caroline straightens and turns around. The walk back to her car is even slower, but this time it’s not because of the dark. It’s because she can’t help but think that she’s signing Aperture’s death warrant.

She opens the driver’s side door, reaches across, and pulls out a briefcase.

She had fought harder on this one. Harder than most things she’d fought for over the years at Aperture, in fact. Unlike Cave’s many other crazy ideas, this one lacked any arguable redeeming qualities. Taking in unknown and potentially dangerous waste and experimental leftovers was bad, but at least they weren’t paying for any of it, and could argue that it might end up producing some good data for the company. But this - this was spending $70 million - money that they simply did not have and never would have again - to purchase a substance with no technical market value, and no known scientific worth. Selling and buying it constituted a litany of federal crimes. It was enough to earn them another government investigation. All because Cave Johnson thought that moon rocks might be fun to play around with. All in the name of throwing science at the wall and seeing what sticks.

Caroline wasn’t sure what it was exactly that had finally caused her to give up. Maybe it was seeing her boss so desperate, so broken, so out of ideas and so willing to latch on to the most outlandish one that came his way. Maybe it was knowing that there was nothing left for Aperture regardless - if nothing else, this would just kick the liquidation process into higher gear. Or maybe it was just that - she’d given up. Thirty years as the voice of reason was exhausting - especially when no one listened anyway, and when a silver tongue and a little admiration could erase any protest. Thirty years of picking up the pieces when all of the things he’d persuaded her to agree to had gone wrong. Thirty years of watching scientific achievement and progress slip through their fingers.

Caroline had fought so hard for the company for so long. Most of what had happened within it over the years was a direct result of her doing, her fighting, her fixing. Why reduce that level of involvement now, she thought as she handed the briefcase over. Now, when it was all so close to ending? Why not have the honor of putting the final nail into the coffin?

“This thing’s pretty heavy,” one of the shadow-cloaked figures says as he and another carry the container over to Caroline’s car. “You gonna be able to handle this?”

“I’ll manage,” Caroline replies stoically as she opens the trunk for them.

And she will. As long as there are some shreds of the company remaining. As long as they still have experiments to run with their new $70 million purchase.

She turns on the engine and drives away, leaving her contacts from god knows what corner of the black market to fade into the distance.

Only the moonlight surrounds her now. She runs her fingers over the rabbit’s foot as she drives, trying not to notice the ethereal orb above. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mr. Johnson,” she mutters under her breath as she continues on into the night.

#cad17 #cad2017 #caroline appreciation day #portal #portal 2 #my writing #my fanfiction #portal fanfiction #caroline #caroline tag #cave johnson

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