#i may be a little too cooped up on campus i need to get a fucking bus card

[gemwolfz]

wait one more doodle before i go to bed... Frenship :D

[hkruu]

“CILIAN” — hkr

character introduction ﹕character story !

Character info: His full name is Cilian Colin, born on the August of 23rd. He initially planned on going on another campus until he met you, all of his plans before you arrived were immediately forgotten as he put your needs above his. He's around 5'7, he's popular due to his purity and the way he treats people with gentleness.

Connections: Cilian has a big family, even that he doesn't interact with his cousins often. He think their interests don't clash with his so he simply avoids them during family gatherings and as for his friends . . . He as a lot, but they tend to come for him for advantages and benefits. The only true friends he has are usually the people who hang out at the library, and well, you.

Behavior: From an outsiders perspective, he's the type that you'd immediately become close with, because he's easy to get along with and has many interests that may clash with yours. He's the type to comfort you through all your problems, you can trust him with your secret (unless he does need it for blackmailing you). Cilian is always the soft type around people but when he's all alone, he's quiet. He coops himself up in his dorm room and scroll endlessly online and occasionally write lyrics and random letters.

Backround: Cilian was born into a normal family, not rich nor poor, just in-between. He often admired his parents' love for each other, the way they held each other, the sweet nothings they'd say to each other . . . Cilian wanted that to himself. Cilian was obsessed with the thought of loving someone and being loved, it was something that he greatly wanted, needed to feel.

When his parents took him to a nearby playground, he sat in one of the swings as he watched other children play. Although his mother was pushing the swing a little, he wanted to play with the other children but had no courage to, they were playing tag and he wanted to join in. Not until a kid, who was a little taller than him walked up to him and extended their hand; "Miss, can we play with your son?" the kid asked politely with a big grin.

And well Cilian found himself running around with other children, laughing and sweating like crazy while both of his parents watched in awe. "W-wait don't run there!" one of the kids shouted too late, Cilian found himself on the ground as he tripped on a rock and fell flat faced on the floor. The same kid who offered to play immediately ran up to him, apologizing with tears in their face as they held his hand tightly. "I'm sorry!" they sobbed out "I'll uhm.. make it up to you in the future, I won't let you fall again and I'll... I'll take care of you in the future!"

The kid wasn't probably being serious but Cilian loved the way they held his hand so tightly, he didn't know what to call it but he appreciated it. After that day, he never saw that kid again. In the future he did though, he made sure to write them a precious letter for Valentine's Day.

Interests:

• writing : Cilian initially started writing during highschool where he found his true passion. His first letter was a rejection letter from an admirer, not only that but corrected their letter. Of course the admirer took offense and backed off the moment they opened their letter to be found with corrections all over with Cilian's neat handwriting.

• music : he listens to music while writing letters to deeply involve his feelings into words. His genre consists of kpop, but he listens to anything, his favorite song right now is Lean On Me by SEVENTEEN he also likes The Smith's.

• art : He's not good at it but he can make beginner art, it's mostly because one of his siblings taught him how to draw for a little project.

• fashion : he likes fashion simply because it makes him look good (He also does skincare from time to time).

• stalking : what? He doesn't know how to stalk people, he doesn't know your security number, your favorite smell, what perfume you use, what shampoo you use, your socials, your house address, your whole family lineage, your routine, your way back home, how can you accuse him of such things? Cilian's hands only know how to write sweet letters.

• others : aside from everything mentioned, he's good at anything. He just needs the motivation to improve it, especially in acting. He's smart, he's handsome, he has a great personality, overall he's the ideal type of every girl in campus. Cilian doesn't let that get to his head, he only has eyes for one person and that's you, after all you promised to take care of him in the future.

Overall, he's not a hardcore yandere. He's a soft one, he's not one that get easily jealous because he knows you'll choose him in the end. He's not the type to murder but he won't hesitate to ruin anyone's life, he's not the type to kidnap you because he just knows you won't run away, because you're trapped within his palm like an ant, he'll squish you if he needs to.

\\ had to debate if I wanted to include an nsfw section but uhh I suck at smut maybe in the future sovs //

[idyllicbarb]

not impressed

SUMMARY: in your eyes, nothing is special about the lsu quarterback.

WARNINGS: cussing, drinking, smoking, fuckboy!joe, fratboy!joe, cocky!joe, euphoria inspired

- - - -

You're new to LSU, transferring from a small community college back in Georgia. It's only been a few months here in Louisiana for you but things have been good so far. Joining the majorette team and becoming popular around campus. Men want you but you don't want them, too caught up in enjoying your new college life.

You adjust your bra top, gaining looks from a few college boys that were standing around you. Rolling your eyes, you check your phone for any new messages. Somebody at LSU decided to throw a party for the football team, typical. Your majorette teammate, Naomi, had dragged you out the house so you could find yourself a man just for the evening.

But all the dudes at the party right now were either weird or sluts, huge whore bags. That's how a lot of men on campus are, especially the football team. You never understood how girls would just flock to them, only seeing dick and a potential to become a NFL wife. Shit like that never amused you, you have big dreams too, who wants to be cooped up in a house all day with three to four kids plus having to cook and clean? Yeah no.

Naomi walks back in the living room from using the bathroom, re-joining you on the couch, "You okay?" She asks. Before you can answer her, a loud group of men enter the house and you just know it's the football team.

You roll your eyes before sending a knowing look Naomi's way, she laughs silently before scooting closer to you. "I'm fine, this party is about to give me a headache though," You mutter and Naomi hums in response, "Well, we can always go back to the dorm."

"No, no, I never go out and I want to. It's college, we're supposed to be having a good time." You say in response. Justin and Ja'Marr walk in the living room, giving daps to people they know before heading over to you and Naomi.

You may have not cared for the football team but you've grown fond of Justin and Ja'Marr. They're like two bad ass twins. Ja'Marr shoves your forehead making you slap his wrist in response, "You asshole!"

"We ain't know y'all was coming. Especially you, Y/N, you an old lady, you probably got old people teeth in ya mouth right now." Justin teases gaining a laugh from out of Ja'Marr.

"Don't push it, I'll flick your little ass." You push Justin back slightly with your foot. He fakes a hiss before laughing again, "Stop playing before I get my boy, Joseph on yo ass."

"Ooh! See me personally, Y/N, I would never go for that." Ja'Marr shrugs his shoulders.

"You go for that and then some, Ja'Marr," Naomi rebuttals making you laugh. He sucks his teeth before tapping Justin on the shoulder, they both walk off weirdly.

"Losers," You mumble under your breath and Naomi giggles at your comment. A few seconds they return with the hottest topic on campus, Joe Burrow.

"Keep messing with us and our dawg Joey B gon Mickey Mouse two-piece y'all ass," Justin says and you look over at Naomi before the both of y'all bust out in laughter.

"Y'all weak, I can beat y'all up, easily, light weight." You reply standing up but only to get softly pushed back on the couch by Joe.

"You haven't even seen me fight."

"Well first off, I wasn't speaking to you, but since you opened your mouth, I don't need to see you fight. You look like you'd get beat up." You tell Joe, gaining attention from a few of his friends and teammates.

"Joe you gon' let her talk to you like that?" You hear somebody ask from the kitchen. You stand up getting in Joe's face, "He sure is, because "Joe" isn't going to do a got damn thing to me."

Joe turns his attention over at you as Justin and Ja'Marr slowly back away from the scene. "It'd be best if you watch your mouth."

"Is that suppose to be a threat?" You question while about to to take off your shoes. Naomi stands up and grabs your hand, leading you upstairs into a random empty bedroom.

"Girl! You can't be talking to Joe like that." Naomi blurts out and you turn your head at her. "Y'all scared of him or something? He doesn't faze me."

"Nobody disrespects him-

"How was I disrespecting him by telling him the truth? Do you seriously think he'd win a fight?" You tilt your head meeting Naomi's eyes, she looks away attempting not to answer.

"Exactly, just because he's known doesn't mean anything to me. You should know this by now."

Fixing your hair in your pocket mirror, you catch Naomi staring at you. "What?"

"You know he's going to be on your ass now, right?"

You look at Naomi, "No, no, I don't know, enlighten me."

"He's just like the big guy around here and everyone just respects him. You might be the only person who treated Joe like he's a regular human being," Naomi stated.

"He is a regular human being!"

- - - -

You're currently sitting on top of the kitchen counter drinking some jungle juice. After you and Naomi's conversation, you both decided to rejoin the party. You gained a few looks from people who are believed to be close friends of Joe. You don't care though, you weren't going to treat Joe as if he's superior because in your eyes, he's not.

Joe walks in the kitchen with a woman on his arm, she stumbles over her feet before putting her head down when a few people snicker. You shake your head, turning your attention back to your phone.

"You look lonely," The three words make you snap your head at a man who looks drunk out his mind.

"I look completely fine, do you?"

Joe moves past the two of you, mumbling, "Shouldn't you be anywhere but here?" under his breath. You laugh quietly before focusing your attention back on the dude in front of you.

Before the dude can even reply to your question, Joe taps him on the shoulder and the two of them walk off somewhere. You roll your eyes, waiting on Naomi to get done flirting with whatever man she can have for the night.

This party is lame, and you're two seconds away from beating thee infamous Joe Burrow up. Such a prick! Getting mad at you for not playing with him. Such a dweeb in your eyes.

Justin and Ja'Marr slide next to you, "Yo!"

You laugh before sitting up straight, "I haven't seen you two all night. Must've been getting pussy."

Ja'Marr shrugs playfully before looking away, letting you know that he indeed, got pussy during this party. "That ain't the topic, what needs to be talked about is you and our boy, Joe."

"What about him?"

Justin scoffs, "What about him? You can't be talking to him like that! He big dawg. We was tryin' put y'all on with each other, but you damn near punked him in front of his folks!"

"Justin's right. He coulda had you drooling for him at any moment." Ja'Marr adds in his two cents making you squint your eyes at the both of them.

"Ain't he a fuckboy? He's a blunt, passed around!" You loudly say making people snap their head in your direction.

"Nah! Nah! Don't be saying that." Justin puts a hand over your mouth when Joe appears back in the kitchen.

"Who a fuckboy?" He asks, the whole time he's staring directly at you. Joe knows you said it, he just wants to hear the words come from you. But you can't because Ja'Marr is currently trying to make up some kind of lie.

"See, you gon' get yourself caught up, Y/N. Real shit, Joe don't play them games." Justin tells you before mushing you back softly.

"Fuck yo' teammate who is also your friend, respectfully."

- - - - -

"Wanna take a swim?" A frat boy asks you, you nod your head slowly stripping off your clothes and placing them near Naomi's belongings.

You grab the dudes hand and walk towards the pool, people staring at the both of you murmuring words under their breath.

Joe and his teammates are smoking cigars when he sees you stepping into the pool, "Just what the fuck are you doing?"

You snap your eyes over at him, "You see I'm in the pool, cunt." People start oohing and Joe's face turns red. Never has a woman disrespected him constantly.

His teammate, Tyler, taps Joe on his shoulder, "You gon' have to handle that." Joe's friends murmur words in agreement. He peers his over at you again, watching you attract people with the way you're moving your body.

"Yeah, you right. I can't take the disrespect for too long."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like the girl, Joseph." A child-hood friend of Joe's, Derrick, says. Joe hears a few people agree with his friend, sucking his teeth, Joe flicks Derrick off.

- - - - -

The party is slowly coming to an end and you're grabbing all of your belongings when suddenly Joe walks up to you. "You know, it's very disrespectful to call somebody a cunt.

"Hm, am I suppose to care?"

"No.. but I-

"Exactly, I knew you weren't slow! Have a good night.. Mr. Burrow." You give Joe a fake smile, walking off to your car with Naomi trailing behind you. Joe can't help to grin, his first time ever being told off by a woman. He's impressed but you're not.

"I think he's definitely into you," Naomi mumbles once you two reach your car. You hum, not really thinking too much into the thought. Maybe, maybe, Joe might have a crush on you. But who cares, certainly not you,  right?

[estasticvanni]

New to this. -Amai

An//Part two of the Crowford Academy Series! The reader is a different person everytime! (if i plan that.)

Tw//Nothing!

🐁🧠🖇️⊹ 🧺🐁🌸⊹

Walking through the halls with a pep in his step,blowing a pink bubble of gum and smiling like he knew everyone adorned him. That was Amai Umeko,THE most popular boy in school. Everyone loved him,everyone wanted to be with it or be him. Well,except you. You never paid attention to him,you never had time to as one of the top five students at Crowford. As you walked through the halls,hoisting your bookbag to the side and making sure not to bump into anyone,you felt a hand grip your arm.

“(Name).” You could recgonize that voice anywhere,it was Amai. As you turned to look at him,it was like you were hit with 50 colognes mixed to one. You couldn’t breathe for the life of you. “My little nerd! Where you’ve been,sweetie!” You may have not paid attention to him but he loved you. Loved you.

“Studying…” You could only mentally sigh,exams were up and you had to study,him appearing meant something was going to happen and it wasn’t going to be in your favor. “Studying? No wonder I haven’t seen my favorite nerd in a long..Say,how about we go out tonight,just you and me?” His smile widened as he spoke,he even leaned closer to your face. “No thanks,I have to study like I said.” He still smiled despite being rejected,if only you knew how fumed he was inside.

“Okay! Well,…have fun studying my little nerd!” *I winked as he let you go and walked off. Freedom,the sweet smell of regular air and not a mash of all the expensive brand colognes you could think of.

🐁🧠🖇️⊹ 🧺🐁🌸⊹

You were cooped up in your room,surviving off of nothing but coffee and the leftover ramen you had earlier. “(Name)! You’re stupid boyfriend is here!” You heard your roommate say,you were confused but quickly realized it was Amai. He had ran around campus and told everyone,you were his and his alone. You guys barely talked to each-other on the daily so how anyone believe that stupid lie was a mystery to you.

You walked out of you room and opened the door to see his giddy smile,he had a bouquet in his hands,suit and tie on and his hair was slicked back. Yet you were in nothing but shorts and a oversized hoodie with the words ‘Sleep? Never heard of it.’

“Aw..my little nerd is so cute..!” He blushed and covered his face with his hand,extending his other hand to give you the bouquet of roses. You took them no questions,at least they look pretty. “So…? Do you maybe want to go to Savanna’s party with me or are you too busy studying for the exams?” You raised your eyebrow,you were never one to catch up on all the newest events,so this was new information to you. “No..I have to study.” As usual you rejected him but this time he didn’t just take it with a grain of salt. He yanked you out of the doorway and pushed you up against the wall near it.

“You’re not rejecting me this time. You don’t even get a choice anymore.” His tone turned cold,what had you done so wrong to get on his bad side? “Ever since that day..Ever since you came here,I could never stop thinking about you. Dreaming about you..fantasizing.” The way he looked at you was a bit unusual,he looked like he was pleading in a way,not that you really noticed.

“I want you,need you,love you! Please…Don’t say no this time.” You felt a little bad,but then again if he loved you all this time,why hasn’t he spoken. Maybe it’s just you who’s somewhat straightforward. “Okay..I’ll go.” He smiled and swiftly pressed his lips onto yours,you’ve never been kissed before. Never been involved in any intimacy before. His hands fell from your hands and wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer. You had always thought stuff like this was a waste of time but it felt..nice,the way you two mushed your lips together was blissful..

“(Name)! You were supposed to do the dishes!” The sound of your roommate’s voice snaps you both back to reality and Amai pulls away with a soft smile. “Hah…I was getting too carried away anyway. You enjoyed that,right?” You nodded as your face flushed with warmness and red,god you missed the feeling already. “We should get going but…your clothes are a bit out of fashion..” Amai chuckled as you looked down at your clothes

“Eh…I serioulsy have to dress all fancy?” You sighed and scoffed,you were formal…when necessary. “I’ll ditch party if it means I can kiss you some more~” You slightly blushed and cleared your throat. “I’m not gonna go anyway,I only said yes because you kinda seemed down in the dumps-“ Amai laughed and kissed your cheek “I know,sweetie.”

“Say,let’s go back to my dorm,we’ll have more privacy to..do as we please.” The sound of that was alluring to you,you never thought you’d be this giddy about affection. You nodded though and he took your hand before you two walked off. Meanwhile,your roommate was wondering why you were taking so long to get back in the house,hopefully you didn’t keel over from the lack of coffee intake..

🐁🧠🖇️⊹ 🧺🐁🌸⊹

Amai was cuddled up next to you,making sure you were in your natural habitat of blankets. You on the other hand,we’re still studying,using his textbooks which were littered with wrong answers. “Not my little nerd…” You could hear his sleep talking and his groggy grumbling as you read away. It was kinda cute,except he would occasionally yank you over to him which was very annoying.. “No way…they’re the..cutest person ever…” You sighed and shook your head,what the heck was going through that brain of his? The night went on with his sleep talking and you barely blinking as you read the entire book over 3 times. Anything to get the best test score!

🐁🧠🖇️⊹ 🧺🐁🌸⊹

As the morning sun rose,and a clock went off,you yawned and realized you now had a boyfriend and you now were in his bed. “Are you awake,little nerd? Or are you sleeping with your eyes open..?” You scoffed which notified that you were indeed awake and not sleeping like damn vampire. “Whatever is going on with your brain,makes you sound idiotic sometimes..” You sighed as you stretched and hopped off his bed and out of his hold. “Don’t leave yet…We didn’t get to continue…You tired me out. last night.” Amai whined as he ruffled his blonde hair and glanced at you with his barely open eyes. You adored him in such a short time,it was like a dream.

You sighed again,crawling right back into his arms. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you lovingly as he ran his hands through your hair. “Jeez,did you even get an ounce of sleep? You can’t keep staying up..or maybe I didn’t leave you with enough stamina,huh?” His lips pulled into a smirk and you blushed a bit. Right,you two got carried away before you started studying..

“Hey! Don’t bring it up..” You punched his shoulder and he chuckled as he pecked at your lips “Don’t worry~ You did great,little nerd~”

[writingfool001]

Can you write Idia and Cater with an s/o who basically has Idia’s personality(except that s/o is slightly more interested in getting to know people and like to cuddle their partner despite being super introverted)?

Super introverted S/O who is whiling to socialize a bit and cuddles.

Cater

Cater is your way of socializing more with other students on campus rather than being cooped up in your room and only socializing with people online. He’s glad to hear you want to try to socialize with other people and is there with you as support, always holding your hand or just locking pinkies with each other.

He understands when you tell him you have a social battery, and it would drain after a while of socializing. He has seen this many times whenever you hang out at Heartlabyul and curl into your hoodie more, talking less and listening more. He reassured you that it’s okay and would agree to needing a break from socializing.

While socializing, he would pick up on the small signs that your battery is getting low before making up a lie or excuse that you two had to leave. If you two get separated at an event and you’re ready to leave, you usually find him and either hug him from behind or snuggle his side, recharging little by little. I think you two would have a plain little signal system to warn each other when you’re tired and ready to go home or you need a small recharging for a bit. Even during parties when you’re still socializing and Cater comes over, giving you the gesture of “Goin to recharge’ before flopping over on you, burying his face in your hair.

Dates are spent either going to cafes or staying in and watching a movie because you both may be different; you balance each other out. Cater will post about your date night and fluster you to no end. His followers find you two cute together and made you both a meme about “Every extrovert has their introvert.”

He would completely agree if you tell him you want to recharge by cuddling under cozy blankets with something playing in the background while spending time together. Sometimes Cater would ask for cuddles while you’re working on your computer or playing your games. If you’re in the middle of something important, he will steal your hoodie and cuddle in it until you can cuddle him. You both lean on each other for support and recharge.

Idia

Out of the two of you, you’re the most sociable one even if it is a small spec and Idia does not understand why you would want to socialize with normies. Whenever you two go out, you’re the social shield for Idia and Ortho’s weapon to get Idia to get out more. Idia will handle some time out, socializing with normies for your sake, and when it gets to a certain point, he asks if you can leave or find a quieter place until you’re ready to go.

You show a bit of socializing isn’t too bad, but also, you’re teaching him to accept touch a bit. He’s still getting used to having someone else in his room other than Ortho or Azul. Most of your dates are spent in his room, watching or playing something, unless you can convince him to maybe go grab a bite to eat. I would say, you two are an introverted couple, but you’re the introvert who speaks up in public. He didn’t entirely believe you that one of the ways you recharge is cuddling.

He was working at his desk and was engrossed in his work, he didn’t notice you come in, socially drained, and put your bag out of the way. He slightly screamed when he felt weight on his lap, and looked to see you cuddling into him, burying your face on the side of his neck.

“Y-Y-You alright?”

“I just need cuddles to recharge,” You respond, “Sorry if I’m bothering you.”

He’s losing it internally as he reassures you, you’re fine and goes back to his thing while rubbing your head or back while you recharged.

He does the same thing, but he’s like a cat and a dog. He can be independent and go about his day, but there are times where you two are doing your own thing in his room and Idia is just tired. He’ll turn off his computer and just slip into bed, cuddling close to you. You either continue doing your activity or you’ll put it away for now before being the big spoon for your boyfriend.

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

*

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

[just-another-obsessed-fangirl]

slow motion, double vision in rose blush (Renora College AU)

Summary: Ren doesn't need alcohol to know how gorgeous his best friend is or to admit to himself (kind of, sort of) that his feelings towards her aren't exactly platonic. Apparently, he just needs it if he wants to be unable to ignore those facts.

Warnings: Drinking alcohol, some suggestive thoughts

Fic under the read more or can be read on AO3 here

I wrote this for Flower Power Week, but I didn’t see that there was a rule to keep works PG-13 until I was almost finished with this fic, and I figure this fic is already inherently a bit more mature than that, so I don’t think I should use the tag or tag the blog.

Hope you enjoy!

Parties wouldn't really be considered Ren's "thing".

 He much prefers the slightly-hectic-but-relatively-calm get-togethers of his friends that they manage to schedule every week or so amongst all their university classes. But it was the end of some particularly grueling midterms and everyone in their little friend group (and apparently, everyone on campus) had wanted to let loose and let wild after being cooped up with only their textbooks and their stress for so long. So that, and not enough displeasure at the plan to do anything about it, is how Ren ended up in the corner of the front room of some frat house with a red Solo cup in his hand.

 He doesn't know where most of his friends have gone. Ren hasn't seen all of them in one place since basically when they first arrived and Yang had shoved shots of - Ren hasn't drunk enough alcohol in his life to know for sure, but he would assume it's whiskey - into each of their hands. He didn't have much desire to down it in one go like most of the group, would rather let its burn come in little bursts than have all of the pain all at once. By the time he had finished it, Yang had taken Blake somewhere promising to dance, Ruby heard a rumor of a ping pong table and had set off to find it with Weiss so they can challenge each other, and Jaune and Pyrrha went… somewhere. The only friend who hadn't wandered off was Nora, who immediately upon finishing her shot had started pouring ice, orange juice, and maybe a tad too much vodka into a Solo cup.

 She had immediately come back to his side, expressing how much this was needed for her after midterms. Nora then starts rambling about what lengths she had gone to in order to make the information stick and the stomach aches she got from the stress and how she was shaking during her last test partly from how little sleep she had gotten in the past month from projects. At least, that's what Ren was pretty sure she was talking about. The music was so loud that he had to lean in pretty close to hear what Nora was saying, and even then he couldn't pick up half the words said. Which was a shame, because as much as people seem to believe he just ignores her, Ren does listen to everything his best friend wants to say, and he likes listening to everything she says.

 Nora must've noticed how close Ren was leaning in, or his discomfort at the loud music, as she then grabs his hand and walks them somewhere else, still talking all the while. The farther they walk, the quieter the music gets, the more Ren can hear Nora. They arrive at some far-off corner and Ren is more than content to stay there and listen to Nora for the rest of the night. But then a girl dressed more like she was going to a full-out rave rather than a college party rushes up to Nora and begs her to be her partner at beer pong.

 "Kobalt and Ivori are ‘too cool’ for it, and Flynt's our DD, so obviously he can't drink, and you're fun enough and I bet you'd be super good at beer pong-"

 Ren can tell Nora wants to say yes, but she keeps looking at him from the corner of her eye like she doesn't want to leave him alone. If he really had heard her correctly, then she is certainly deserving of some fun right now, and it might be a little awkward standing here alone but it wouldn't be the worst thing.

 "You should go," he says.

 Nora turns her head fully to him. "Are you sure? You gonna be okay here all by your lonesome?"

 Ren gives her a little smile. "I think I can manage."

 "Great!" the girl says with a clap of her hands. "So it's settled". She grabs the cup that Nora was holding and hands it off to Ren. "Now be a good boyfriend and keep this safe for her."

 Nora's face flushes, and Ren can feel that he does too. "Oh no, Neon, we're not-" but before she can continue her denial, Neon yanks her away to the beer pong table.

 They're a little ways away, but they are perfectly within Ren's eyesight. He can see that they're playing against Sun and Neptune. He doesn't know them too well but he hasn't known them as anything other than friendly. Well, Jaune might disagree at least where Neptune's concerned, but it's been ages and he's since got over his crush on Weiss, so he's probably okay with him now. They start their game and on her first try, Nora lands the ball cleanly into one of the other team's cups. She jumps and pumps her fist in the air, showing off that usual bright beautiful smile in her joy that always seems to lighten up every room and flood Ren's insides with warmth.

 He looks away a little, not wanting to acknowledge what that feeling really meant, even if he had finally admitted to himself that what he had felt for his best friend wasn’t exactly platonic. The admission itself is a barely-there kind of thing because no matter how much Ren would prefer it, he couldn't be in complete denial over it for the rest of time so he'll just settle for being as close to that as possible. Nora's his best friend, what they've had since they were kids - it's good. For the most part, he's completely fine with the way things are and Nora seems to also so why potentially ruin or try to change something that's practically perfect already? Before he could uncomfortably spiral into that thought process anymore, mercifully, he is interrupted. But not so mercifully, that interruption is from Nora, laughing so loud and wonderfully that Ren just plummets even deeper.

 Something funny must have happened. Or maybe not. It doesn't seem to take much to send Nora into a fit of laughter. He likes that about her, that she can let joy or other emotions in so easily and that she doesn't really care about how it may look or what others might think. He's glad there isn't some insecurity that keeps Nora from laughing so often. She has such a nice laugh and Ren likes knowing she's happy and it's nice that she does it so much. And her lips are so pretty, especially when she smiles. He can't help but keep his focus on them. That is until she throws her head back, showing off the nice smooth skin of her neck. Ren then starts to wonder what it would be like to press his lips to the side of it and just how she'd react before he realizes the nature of just what exactly he's thinking.

 His mouth goes dry. Without thinking, he raises Nora's cup to his lips to make it go away but it isn't until he's already swallowed and surprised himself with the hefty burn it leaves in his throat that he remembers what was in that cup. Yeah, he definitely took a much bigger sip than he should've, and there is definitely too much vodka in that. But the orange juice masks the taste of it for the most part and the ice soothes away a good amount of the burn, so it's definitely not the worst alcoholic drink Ren's ever had and might actually be one of the more pleasant ones. He takes a smaller sip of it out of a measured curiosity.

 Ren's eyes drift back to Nora. If he had any sense left in him, he'd focus on anything else, keep trying to avoid feelings he doesn't want to feel and thoughts that might be inappropriate, or definitely inappropriate. But it's as if Ren's field of vision can only narrow down to just her. There are clouds of pink on the edges of what he can see, threatening to fill up the entire room, and it seems as if the only way it won't happen is if he keeps Nora right in the center, where all her movements seem to be in slow motion.

 She picked a green top tonight, a color more associated with Ren more than Nora. She bears a little more skin in this top too, the two spaghetti straps unable to hide the nice, toned muscles of Nora's arms and shoulders along with her delicate collarbone. Ren had already noticed this top when everyone was on the way to the party, trying to figure out if it was new as he's pretty sure he had never seen it before. He must've been more obvious than he should've, because Pyrrha had nudged his shoulder then, giving him a coy little smile. "Green's a good color on Nora, isn't it?" Pyrrha had said, as if he hadn't already known that. Nora doesn't have a lot of green in her own wardrobe, but Ren does, and the times when she has worn the color were usually because she was wearing his clothes. She's done it often enough - stolen his sweater to fight the cold in the café while they were studying, hung his jacket from her shoulders walking around town, switched into one of his tees and sweats when she needed to crash at his dorm for one reason or another. It always feels nice seeing Nora in green, especially when it's his green. Ren would let Nora borrow his clothes any time just to see it more often.

 Nora's skirt is still her signature pink, but without the usual volume or swish ability that she loves so much. No, this skirt is… tighter. It clings to the shape of her quite well, accentuating her curves very nicely. She's doing a little dance right now, and it looks like she's singing too. Nora's a really good singer when she wants to be but he can't imagine she's deciding to be that right now. She bumps her hip against Neon's and spins around, does some shimmying movement. Ren's mouth goes dry again. He's starting to feel really warm. He should look away. Nora's his best friend. He shouldn't be getting mesmerized by the movement of her hips or tracing his eyes over the muscles of her arms, or even noticing how her outfit and especially that skirt, while she’s dancing, makes certain areas of Nora more prominent and - okay Ren's taking another drink. He's taking another drink because he needs another drink, because he needs to stop ogling Nora and thinking these kinds of thoughts about her.

 The burn hurts. It's a deserved punishment.

 He's a little woozy right now but he still feels guilty. Nora is beautiful. She's always been beautiful. Ren has known that even before realizing he liked her in that way. But that doesn't give him or anybody else the right to objectify her like that. It's obviously not like her being gorgeous is the only thing to Nora, and neither that nor the idea of them being physical together are why Ren fell in love with her in the first place.

 Love.

 Well, that is… definitely true. It's definitely true but Ren doesn't think he's ever admitted that much to himself before. In fact, he knows he hasn't because emotions are uncomfortable and scary and often irrational and he doesn't like dealing with them especially when it could ruin probably the most important relationship he has. Why did he have to realize this now? Why did he have to realize this at all? This is uncomfortable. He might be panicking. He feels off balance. Ren takes another drink just so that he can distract himself from all of this but it doesn't quite work by the time he's finished off the rest of it.

 There's nothing of this too-much-vodka concoction left and it is immediately apparent to Ren that that was not his brightest idea. He doesn't really drink too much, even at social gatherings. Their friends usually appoint him the designated driver, and he doesn't mind. If he does drink, he'll usually stop by the time he feels a hint of a buzz. This was… more than a hint. He's more off-balance than before, the room sways a little more and he thinks it's grown even pinker. His head feels cloudy. And this is the longest a burn has stayed in his throat. And he is so warm. Ren leans his back against the wall for some stability.

 His eyes come back to Nora because if Ren couldn't stop it before, he can't stop it now. She's still there, being beautiful and charming and full of life, laughing with the people around her, and of course Ren is in love with her, how could he ever try to deny that fact. Neptune comes up to her, leans in kind of close to say something. Ren doesn't like that, or the way he's looking at Nora. Maybe Jaune was right about him. Maybe the problem with Neptune is that he's too friendly. Neptune points his thumb somewhere and - wait, is he pointing at him? He must have because Nora immediately turns her head and catches Ren's eye. There's some expression on her face and she immediately sets off in his direction.

 There's something in Ren that tells him to act casual and he raises the cup to his lips one more time but is immediately reminded of the fact that there's nothing left in it so he figures he just looks stupid.

 "Hey," Nora says as she stops in front of him. "You okay?"

 Ren looks up from his empty cup and pushes himself off the wall. He probably used a lot more force than he should've and stumbles a bit, which Nora remedies by putting her hands on his shoulders. She laughs a little, and he can't help but feel even warmer.

 "Guess that answers my question," Nora giggles some more.

 "I'm fine," Ren says. He is very aware of how her fingers are splayed out on his shoulders, the pressure she's putting that's just enough to still him. It keeps him calm, but also doesn't, and his heart is beating so hard she must feel it where her hands are.

 Her eyes scan over his face. "I've never seen your face so red." Ren's sure it only gets redder then. "How much have you had to drink?"

 He wordlessly brings his attention back to the empty cup in his hand, which Nora follows. "You drank all of it?" she points at the cup, her eyes widening. "Ren, I put a lot of vodka in that!"

 Ren blinks a couple times, having to more manually process what Nora said while he was trying not to stare at her mouth. "I can tell," he says, maybe a couple of seconds too late.

 Nora raises an eyebrow. It's another cute look on her. "You don't really drink that much. There a reason why now?"

 There's genuine concern in her voice when she asks that question, and it's so sweet and Ren's heart beats a little faster and he wants to take that concern away from her. But he doesn't think answering that question truthfully is going to help that. Ren's pretty sure the best-case scenario of saying 'you're pretty and I love you' to Nora is causing her confusion to the point of distortion.

 "I was… thirsty." And that's really about as close to the truth as he can get. Ren shakes his head, but not too hard because the room is moving too much already and… ouch. "I'm sure you've had more tonight," nodding towards the beer pong table. She must've, shouldn't she? Is it just his alcohol-addled mind or does Nora not seem any bit of drunk at all?

 She scoffs. "Maybe not. Sun really doesn't like putting too much beer in those cups. Besides, that's beer, not hard liquor. And I'm more experienced with it than you, so it takes a bit more to get me down. I've had more practice."

 Nora shoots him a cheeky grin, a little closer to his face than she was before. She leaned in a bit when she was talking, migrated her hands closer to the base of his neck. It's nothing new. Nora being so physically affectionate is one of her trademark qualities. And Ren's happy to let her do that to him at any time, but he knows he generally seems unresponsive to it. But what if he responds to it now? He's not going to, he's absolutely not going to, but it's easier to fall into that daydream than usual. Ren could wrap his hands around Nora's waist, lean into this little space between them to ultimately close it. He could press his lips to that grin on her face, and Nora would be a little surprised, but in no time at all, she'd be kissing him back. She'd wrap her arms a little easier around his neck and she could press herself a little more against him, the idea of having any distance left between them as unappealing to Nora as it is to Ren.

 "Uhh, Ren?"

 He falls out of the daydream. "Oh! Ah… umm… huh?" She hasn't been saying anything. Ren has been very focused on Nora's mouth for the past couple of minutes, so much that he had missed the blush on her face. He must've missed something happening. Did he say something? The thought of that mortifies him to no end.

 He might've been emoting his thought process on his face because Nora chuckles. "Yeah. That's definitely more alcohol than you're used to." She grabs his hand and leads him over to a couch nearby. Nora lightly pushes him down next to the armrest. "You stay right here," she says firmly, but full of fondness. "I'm gonna get you some water. And I probably need some too." Nora pats his cheek a little, brushes it with her thumb. Ren almost leans into it but she pulls away too soon.

 Nora turns around and goes in search of some water, and characteristically of him tonight, Ren can't help but keep her eyes on her, until he's forced to because there are too many people in that direction. He sighs, sinking into the cushions as he closes his eyes, feeling the warmth bloom in his chest. She's just so caring. Nora is just so caring and she loves people so much. And she's not afraid to give away all that love and care, to allow people to really see that that's what she feels for them, does it without a second thought. That's one of the big things, Ren thinks. That's got to be at least one of the big reasons why he fell in love with Nora.

 She comes back to him with two large water bottles in her hands. Nora tucks one under her arm in order to open the other, which she gives to him. Ren takes it and continues watching Nora as she settles right next to him, sitting down then kicking her legs up onto the couch. She leans back into the cushions and shifts herself more towards him, letting her head rest closer to his shoulder. Nora moves her head a bit to drink some water and then it actually touches his shoulder. Ren loves her so much. Moments like these are so small, and it's not like they don't happen between them very much. But maybe one day Ren will be brave enough to let them happen a lot more often, and those moments will have a slightly different meaning between the two of them than it does now.

 She looks so pretty in this light. Nora looks pretty in any light.

 Nora catches his eye again. She pushes her hand up beneath the water bottle Ren had forgotten that he was holding. "Drink up."

 And who is Ren to refuse her? He starts to sip his first non-alcoholic drink of the night and already his head is starting to feel less like it's filled with cotton. He drinks until the room feels still again, until everything stops looking like it's in slow motion, until there's no more pink clouds on the edges of his vision. Before he knows it, Ren's finished the whole bottle and his throat feels the best it's been all night.

 Despite the lack of pink clouds and an apparent increase in sobriety, Ren still keeps looking at Nora. She's giggling now. He doesn't know what exactly is so funny but that doesn't really matter.

 "Feel better now?" She asks. He nods because he doesn't know just what he'll admit to her right now if he allows himself to speak. "Great. I'm glad they set out those really big water bottles. That really saved me another trip. And you probably didn't drink enough that you'd need ibuprofen or something. I would've said to take some just in case, but I'm not sure what taking meds when something isn't really wrong with you could do to you. I think you should be fine now. Don't think you'll wake up in the morning with a hangover."

 Ren just keeps looking at Nora, without a word. He doesn't need them right now. He doesn't think he needs to do anything else besides look at Nora and hear her talk for the rest of time.

 But something must be wrong because Nora turns her head away a little, shrinking a bit into herself. "Are you mad at me?"

 That surprises him. "No," that is very much not what he was feeling towards Nora right now. "Why would you think that?"

 She heaves out a heavy sigh. "Neptune said you were staring at me the whole time we were playing." Ren's heart stops a little. Nora keeps shrinking down and her voice feels smaller.  "I don't know- I just figured you might be angry at me for leaving you alone at a place I know you'd rather not be."

 Ren straightens up, shifts fully towards her so she can more easily believe what he's about to say. "I told you to go," maybe he's leaning more forward than he usually would, makes more direct eye contact with Nora. "And being here isn't too bad. I just- uh- I uh-" He puts his head down a little, taking some time to find the right words. How does Ren explain the staring? That he just loves the way she exists and who she is and she deserves good times and it's nice when she gets them?

 "You were having fun," Ren brings himself to look back at her, says these words in all earnest. "I like when you have fun."

 That takes her back a little. Nora's eyes widen but her face softens. For one terrifying but almost hopeful moment, Ren thinks she might've understood what he really meant underneath those words. She smiles and brings her hand up to his face. She uses a couple fingers to sweep his bangs to the side. Ren's eyes almost close at the contact.

 "You're so sweet," Nora says, almost like she's in disbelief. "You wanna go back home? I can walk you back."

 "Are you sure?" That does sound like a good idea to Ren, but he doesn't want to take Nora away from something she enjoys just for him. "I'm honestly fine here. I know you were really stressed, I don't mind if you wanna unwind a little more."

 Nora smiles a little wider. "I think I've had a good amount of unwinding here already. If I stay here any longer and leave you unattended, who knows how many more screwdrivers you'll drink." She moves her hand from his forehead down to his cheek. "And you need to get home safe. For the most part, you seem all right now, but I just… I need to make sure."

 Ren leans into the hand Nora has on his cheek. It's a bit more than he'd usually do, but it feels right. "Alright then."

 "Can I crash at yours' too?" she asks. Ren chuckles a little at that, because when has Nora ever needed to ask that.

 "Of course." And then some daydream starts again. They get back to his single dorm and it'll be just like the other times Nora's slept over there. She'll switch tonight's outfit out for some of Ren's pajamas and she'll look just as good, if not better to Ren. They'll lay down and fall asleep in his bed, and that's all they'll do tonight. And then the morning comes and there's no trace of alcohol in their systems and everything's in the clear, and Ren will kiss her, soft and sweet. Nora will kiss him back because she has wanted this just as much as he has. He'll keep a hand on her cheek and maybe she'll tangle her fingers in his hair. Then maybe they end up never leaving the dorm that day, or even the bed. They'll talk, of course. They'll say what needs to be said, about their feelings and anything else. It's decided between them that Nora can sleep at his dorm a lot more often. And when she does, they don't need to struggle as much to fit together on this twin size XL bed, because Ren can wrap himself around her and they can let their legs get tangled together. He can wake up and bury his head into the hollow of Nora's shoulder and just breathe her in. The next time they see their friends, Ren and Nora won't act all that much different, but it won't take long before they realize something's up. They'll get it out of them, and they'll be happy, and then they'll be mercilessly teased because how did it take you two this long? Ren will get a bit embarrassed, but Nora will take it in stride. She'll kiss the blush on his face, and he'll just blush harder, and she'll laugh a little until he does too.

 But Nora in this reality grabs his hand and forces him to stand. He doesn't know if it's just how much he was in that daydream or if he's still a little buzzed from the alcohol, but it's a little disorienting as he makes movements.

 Before he knows it, they're out the front door and into the cold night air. It's a little windy out. Ren wishes he had a jacket to give to Nora.

 They walk at a leisurely pace in the direction of his dorm. Their hands are still intertwined, their arms swinging in between them. They don't speak, not uncommon at all for Ren but a little surprising from Nora. Ren might've wondered at this if we weren’t lost in his own thoughts.

 How close is that daydream to reality? How close could that daydream be to becoming reality? Is it just Ren or are there enough pieces in place for that to happen? All this time he's been worried about losing their friendship, what they already have. But what kind of future could they have? What could they gain? Is all that Ren really needs to do is get over himself?

 Maybe he's still not in his right mind. It certainly can't be that easy. But he can recall a few times when he's caught Nora looking at him. And maybe some of the comments she's passed off as jokes had more truth to them than she lets on.

 Everything about this still feels scary, but not as scary as it was before. He is at least very lucky to fall in love with such an incredible, amazing woman who's already his best friend. He doesn't know what will happen, but he does know what could. And yes, that may include losing the person closest to him. But as devastating as that is, there's another possibility that is at least that amount of wonderful.

 He peers at Nora from the corner of his eye. She's tucking some hair behind her ear to keep it from flapping in the breeze. Her hand is so warm in his.

 Ren's not going to do anything like confess to her tonight. Or the next morning. But looking at Nora, and holding her hand, and thinking about the good possibilities - he thinks he's starting to build up the courage.

[nneogram]

think about it — part one. get laid!

pairing: jaehyun x reader (f)

genre: enemies to lovers!au, college!au, fluff

word count: 8.4k

warnings: language, mentions of sex but not really (oc keeps being told to get laid “emotionally” idk), jungwoo gets scolded about the importance of consent, jungwoo’s in a frat but not really but yes really, quick reminiscent phone call w/ bestie jungkook, oc has unhealthy studying habits but dw it gradually gets better from here

a/n: i’ll say it for all of us - FINALLY, an update on here. this is result of my own college shenanigans, stories from my friends, and far too many fantasies whilst in quarantine. jeni needs to lay off the k-dramas, sheesh. i’d also like to note that this is unedited! there may be a few grammar/spelling mistakes.

▸ playlist (to be linked later)

Your roommate claims that you need to, in the simplest terms, “Get laid.” You are vehemently against this proposal, despite her insistence and clarification.

“Emotionally. You need to get laid emotionally, Y/N,” Megan whines. That’s all she can do from where she is sitting, tucked safely away beneath the blankets on her bed. It’s cocoon-like, she’s explained to you before, “like being in the womb.” Safe. Secure. Warm. You think that if that was her cocoon, then Megan would emerge a butterfly. If you were in her place? You would emerge a moth.

“I don’t think any getting laid needs to be done, regardless of if it’s emotional or not.” You take another flashcard from your prepared deck. Strong Acids. HCl, HBr, HI… HClO4? A hiss leaves your lips when you flip the card over to see the answer. You were missing two more acids. You reluctantly place the card into the pile to review again, which sat next to a much smaller pile of correct cards. The goal for the morning was to move all the cards in the “wrong” pile to the “right” pile, but considering the size difference of the two stacks, that goal would not be achieved.

Megan’s sigh pulls you from your focus. “Dude. Do you see yourself right now? I don’t think I’ve seen you doing anything other than studying for the past two weeks. I’m going to ace this chem midterm and I’m not even in chem. I’m not even a STEM major.”

You frown. “Sorry. Was I being too loud? I can go-”

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you. I’m concerned for you - you’ve been cooped up more these two weeks than you were in the entirety of fall quarter. Have you taken a break recently?”

“I slept for eight hours straight, I think that’s a good enough break?”

“No, like a real break. Away from studies and school and just doing something… I dunno, fun?”

You shake your head. The past few weeks had been nothing but relentless studying. In an effort to maintain your pristine GPA, you shoved aside what little downtime you allotted yourself in fall quarter to focus on school. It was the least you could do, considering that you were on track to apply to medical school at the end of your undergraduate career. You were only in your first year, so all of the other requirements for med school - clinic, shadowing, research, the works - were inapplicable for the time being. There wasn’t much to get you ahead other than your 4.0.

Megan knows this, but she also knows that you have little to no social life outside of the bare minimum. It’s an unspoken truth that the two of you being assigned as roommates was a blessing in disguise: your studious tendencies help motivate Megan to stay on task while Megan’s more laidback nature reminds you to take a breather sometimes. 

This was one of those times.

“I’m telling you,” Megan crawls over to the edge of her bed to get closer, “You should relax a bit. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Have some fun, live out your first year of college! Make some art, go to the gym, I dunno, step out of your comfort zone. Get laid!”

“You say that last one as if talking from experience,” you tease. 

What was the charge on sulfide again? Fuck, it was two minus. Another card goes into the “wrong” pile.

Megan scoffs. “Please. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and that was in middle school. The most we did was hold hands. Besides, we don’t need men… I just want one.” She mumbles this last part as an afterthought before returning her focus to you. “I think getting a boyfriend would be a great distraction for you.”

You gawk at your roommate, eyes flitting from her to your toppling stack of incorrectly answered cards and back to her. “Do you see this? I don’t need any distractions right now.”

“No, no, I - fuck. I got that all wrong, didn’t I.” Megan facepalms. “What I mean is maybe you should befriend some people, or find some kind of emotional outlet. As much as I pride myself on being your source of positivity, I’m not around all the time to tell you to take a break and relax. You tend to be hard on yourself, y’know?”

Your gaze once again travels to your flashcards, their amount of use prominent in the worn-down corners and smudged ink. “I guess…”

There’s a smile of satisfaction on Megan’s face. “Think about it,” she concludes, then crawls back to her cocoon of blankets to take a nap.

--

The gloom of the rainy weather hits most forcefully in January. With the merriment of the holiday season behind you, it seems there is nothing ahead but cold, and rain, and emptiness. Only so many mugs of hot chocolate could keep your heart warm, and it wasn’t even the good type of hot chocolate - it was the powdery stuff that you mixed in with your lukewarm water because the water kettle you brought with you to the dorm was buggy and never fully heated up a pot of water. 

Yeah, you could buy yourself a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop on campus, but as the college kid stereotype proved, you were broke. So you settle for your half-assed attempt at a comfort drink, taking extra effort to stir the dregs that tend to settle at the bottom of your styrofoam cup.

“So you need to get laid?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the phone.

You sigh. For getting into one of the most prestigious universities in the country, Jungkook lacked the ability to draw proper conclusions from given information. He clearly hadn’t paid attention to your five minute spiel on your deteriorating motivation for life and your roommate’s unusual suggestion. “No,” you begin slowly, because if you didn’t control yourself you were going to get annoyed quickly, “I do not need to get laid.”

It’s dusk, around that time of the evening where the world slows down as the sky is painted a myriad of pinks, purples, and oranges. Even in January the sunsets in your college town never failed to astonish you. However, it’s also the time of the day when loneliness hits you most, and for a fraction of a moment you get homesick and usually end up calling someone from home. In this case, you end up contacting a close friend - though you’re beginning to question Jungkook’s title as a close friend, considering he completely missed the point of your rant.

“Well it sure sounds like it,” Jungkook refutes. There’s a loud crunching noise on the other end of the call, and you have to bring the phone away from your ear as the crackling continues. You know for a fact that Jungkook has bitten into a chip, most likely the barbecue ones he always had on hand. The audacity to snack on junk food in the middle of a conversation about your existential crisis - you sometimes wonder how you and Jungkook became friends in high school. 

Then again, you were on the other end slurping the remnants of your hot cocoa. Maybe there was something going for the two of you.

“Think about it.” You’re reminded of that afternoon when Megan said the exact same thing. “You’re unmotivated. Why? Because you’re lonely. How do we fix that? You need to get laid-”

“-Emotionally. Emotionally laid-”

“-Yeah yeah, same difference. They go hand in hand,” Jungkook brushes off. “The point still stands. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

You hesitate to answer. “I’ve never been in a relationship,” you mumble.

“I couldn’t hear you. What?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship,” you repeat with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head, momentarily forgetting this is a phone call and not an in-person conversation where Jungkook can see you. Students begin to flood the sidewalks outside of the dorms, likely the last wave of students returning for their later classes. A girl - Megan, you realize after squinting - waves at you from across the street. You wave back, gesturing to her that you’re on a call. She nods and goes on her way to the dorm. 

You return your focus to the call. “No, not kidding.”

“I’m taking that lapse of silence as you actually having to think about it.” You roll your eyes, another gesture that Jungkook cannot see. “How? You’re telling me all four years of high school you never got with someone? Not even a fling? Not even that weird ‘talking’ phase kids do these days? What have you been doing all this time?”

Your mind immediately goes back to your high school graduation. “Valedictorian, weighted GPA of 4.8, Y/N Y/L/N, attending…” You remember the smile on your face as the principal handed you your diploma. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, the pride and joy in their eyes. That was when you knew it had all been worth it - no one but you, your parents, and your own pure ambition fueling your fire for the four years of high school.

Maybe the closest you got to any sort of romantic relationship was… with Jungkook.

You liked Jungkook before your brain could fully process it, denying it as platonic affection for the better half of three years as he took you under his wing your freshman year. It was comforting to have someone older than you help you navigate high school, but as much as you tried you could not view Jungkook as an older brother as he so claimed to be.

Of course, nothing was ever to happen. Jeon Jungkook was a boy entirely out of your league - star student, star athlete, poster child for all things good and right in the world - but most importantly, he was your closest friend. It was this label that helped set a boundary for your affections, and your crush became more of a pastime to delve into when you wanted a break from your studies. A fantasy that would never come true.

It wasn’t until he moved away for college your senior year that your crush subsided, hitting you like some sort of epiphany when he returned for his winter break. You had been beyond elated to reunite with your friend, but when you looked in his eyes it dawned on you that the weight of his words and actions no longer affected you as much as they did in the past.

That was your only stint with romance, and you were fine with it staying that way. Yeah, it was a fruitless endeavor, but look what you got out of it: a great friend! And only at the price of three years of unnecessary emotional turmoil and relentless unrequited pining. What a bargain.

“I’ve been busy with school, mainly.” It’s an insufficient summation of your high school experience, but it got the point across. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and all - and I respect your decision to be single! Human rights and all that - but maybe it’s time for you to get into a relationship.”

You snap your fingers loudly enough to startle a group of guys walking past. You hope the grimace on your face is enough of an apology. “Oh my God, thanks Jungkook! Now that you mention it, let me just hit up one of the many young eligible bachelors pining over me, because there are so many right now.”

The feigned enthusiasm in your voice does not entertain Jungkook as much as you would have liked it to. “I’m sure there are, Y/N. There were plenty in high school.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” The playful smile you sport falls from your lips as he proceeds to dive into a list of names. 

“The one guy with the yellow hair… Yugyeom thought you were cute… Oh, Taehyung liked you too-”

“-Taehyung?” You gawk. “The Kim Taehyung. The guy two years older than you, editor of the yearbook and captain of the lacrosse team? The Kim Taehyung who was Prom King. Him?” It’s difficult to process a senior that you had regarded so highly had taken  interest in you in your lowly freshman year.

“Yeah, I know, right? I told him he was out of your league-”

“-Hey!”

“-But I said that out of jealousy. Heck, even I liked you at some point, Y/N. You’re quite a catch, just super oblivious.”

The reminder of your phone call with Jungkook consists of your disbelieving laughs and Jungkook’s reassurances that yes, that many people liked you in high school.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people interested in you. You just have to see it for yourself first.” Oddly prophetic for someone who claims he could survive solely off of energy drinks and barbecue chips, but considering he was studying at an Ivy League, he had to have some credibility. You end the phone call possibly more confused than you had been before the conversation. Swirling the contents of your cup absentmindedly, you realize you’ve drunk all of your hot cocoa. All that is left at the bottom of your cup are the clumps of cocoa powder that hadn’t been properly stirred. The dregs. Of course.

You relay your findings to Megan the next day over a lunch of poorly cooked rice and under seasoned chicken. “Food crafted by the gods to remind us of our inferiority,” as Megan liked to call it.

She claps her hands like a seal. “So I was right!” She cheers over a mouthful of food. “You need to get laid!”

You’re a bit too late to cover her mouth, her ambiguous words now out in the open for others nearby to hear and assume the wrong thing. Glancing around, you’re relieved to find that no one seemed to notice, save for one boy at a nearby table surrounded by some of his friends. He gives you a look but you refrain from making eye contact.

“I feel like you and I heard different stories just now.” You keep your voice down. “Meg, I just found out my high school crush - debatably, my first love - liked me at some point when I liked him. Do you know how big that is?”

“Do you know how big that isn’t?” Megan shoots back. “Because nothing came out of it. You never acted on your feelings. And something tells me that even if this John Cook-”

“-His name is Jungkook, but okay-”

“-Even if he had acted on his feelings, you would never believe it.” Ouch. She really went for your lack of self-esteem right there, and that shit hurted. Regardless, she’s right, and you both know it.

“You know when we say this, we’re not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Megan clarifies. “I’m not saying you should get dicked down by the first guy who gives you attention, but wouldn’t it be nice to let someone - someone who genuinely cares for you - to let them into that dark and twisty mind of yours? God knows what’s going on up there.” She gestures to your forehead with her spoon.

Brushing aside Megan’s crude wording near the beginning, you’re at a loss for words. Unsure of how to respond, you mumble, “But there’s no one like that in my life. Other than you, that is.”

“Because you never let anyone close enough to truly know you. Just…” she pops another spoonful of rice into her mouth, “Just think about it.”

-- 

D-1 until your midterm. Nomenclature and ionic charges are now extremely familiar to you, having taken the spot from Megan as Number One Friend. And yet, you still haven’t successfully completed your flashcards.

Strong Acids. You suck in a deep breath, swerving in between groups of people as you make your way to the cafe. Walking quickly with your head down as the sure fire way of getting to any destination as quickly as possible. Okay Y/N, you got this… HCl, HBr, HI, HClO4… HNO3? You flip the card over and hiss. You were missing one more response. You truly hated it here.

The cafe is bustling with students on their laptops and scribbling away in notebooks, all likely studying for their respective exams. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans pervades the entirety of the interior, drawing you further inward until you’re standing at the cashier. 

“One tall vanilla latte, please.” You hand the girl behind the counter your money and stand aside to let the next person in line order. Once your order is called, you grab your drink - Ah, nothing like a fresh cup of capitalism to revitalize your motivation to study - and search for a place to sit. As if by the grace of God, someone leaves their seat at the barstools just as you turn around. Beautiful.

“Excuse me,” you tap the shoulder of one of the people next to the open seat. “Is this seat taken?” He shakes his head no, and you take that as your signal to sit.

You find yourself sandwiched between two young men, each immersed in their own studies. The one to your right, the one you had talked to briefly, appears to want no further interruptions, both earbuds in his ears. The one to your left never turned around to begin with, head down as he types away at his laptop. All you can make out are his broad shoulders in a brown leather jacket and a mop of strawberry blond hair. An interesting choice of hair color, but you weren’t one to judge. He’s nodding his head to some tune, and it’s only then you realize he has one earbud in. You wonder what kind of music a cute man like himself would listen to -

Get a hold of yourself, Y/N, you chastise yourself for showing sudden interest in a complete stranger. The day before your midterm at that - there was no space in your head for an unknown young man who was probably good looking, too - No! Focus. Flashcards. You fumble in your jacket pocket for your index cards.

Chemistry nomenclature, round fifty-six.

As you’re reviewing, you overhear the conversation proceeding next you with the cute guy and a girl. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The familiar words make you think of mere moments before when you were asking the same thing.

“It isn’t, but… you can’t sit there.”

Huh? 

“I’m sorry?” The girl seems to mirror your confusion.

“You can’t sit here. I’m sorry.”

“But someone else can?”

Your flashcards go ignored as you choose to eavesdrop on the full conversation. The man stalls, looking at the girl up and down. “... Yeah, maybe.”

Trying your best to not draw attention to yourself, you turn your head in slow, languid movements to look around. Was anyone else seeing this? Hearing this? Were you the next unsuspecting victim on an episode of What Would You Do? You were half expecting a game show host to step out and introduce himself at any moment. Y/N, you’ve just been Punk’d! 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, you couldn’t decide which scenario was better), no game show host steps out from behind a curtain, and it sinks in that this guy wasn’t joking. He was intent on not letting this girl sit next to him.

“Look,” the girl runs a hand through her hair, a habit of frustration, maybe. “I really need a place to sit and work on things, and this seat is open. That, and it’s a public space. So if you’ll excuse me-”

The young man easily lifts his backpack from his chair with one hand and places it in the open seat. “There. It’s taken now. Sorry.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and you can only imagine what your face looks like right now. You’re in just as much shock as she is. 

You scoff, and this time you don’t care if he hears. And he does: the stranger finally turns around in his seat to reveal an extremely attractive face. Chiseled jawline, deep brooding eyes, dimples even when he was scowling. You freeze and your breath hitches in your throat. It’s a shame he had to go and open his mouth.

“Excuse me,” you cut in sweetly, making a point to only make eye contact with the girl. “You can sit here. I’m about to leave.”

The girl’s eyes go wide at the addition of a third party. “Oh, no, you don’t have to! Thank you so much though.”

You shove your flashcards into your backpack and stand up from the seat. “No no, I insist, it’s fine. Besides, I didn’t want to sit there anymore.” Only then do you shoot a glare at the young man. “I couldn’t focus.”

Judging by the way the girl eyes the strawberry blond next to you, you think she doesn’t want to sit there anymore, either. Nevertheless, a seat was a seat. She thanks you profusely and you head out the doors and down the path to return to the dorms. 

Naturally your mind drifts back to the stranger. Who was he to have so much pride as to deny a seat to someone he didn’t know? A seat that wasn’t his, either? The thought that people like him exist irks you.

He was so good-looking, too, your subconscious proceeds to remind you. 

But alas, a jerk was a jerk, and at the end of the day you had far more important things to worry about than an indecent stranger whom you doubt you would see again. More important things such as -

Your phone rings with an alarm notifying you of your next scheduled event: Final Review B4 Exam! You sigh. Looks like it was back to the books (and flashcards) for you for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t hit you until you crash land into your desk chair: in your anger-fueled exit from the cafe, you had completely forgotten your barely touched vanilla latte sitting at the barstool counter. At this point you’re ready to tear your hair out at the roots. You’re five dollars and one fresh cup of caffeinated capitalism short for the night’s study session. You really hated it here.

If Megan were here, she would whip you into shape real fast, shouting at you that you’re a “Bad Bitch!” or some other expletive motivation that would comfort you. Except Megan isn’t here, attending some kind of club meeting, leaving you alone in the dorm. Another sigh escapes your lips and you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

Maybe, just maybe, you needed to follow through on this whole “getting emotionally laid” thing.

--

The midterm you had so diligently studied for was a success. Inorganic Chemistry A5 didn’t know what was coming when you rolled up with your beloved flashcards - all successfully completed, mind you - ready to fight. Needless to say you were able to enter the weekend with no qualms. You now had much needed time to recuperate and as Megan had said before, to “take a break” (among other things you were not going to address anytime soon). 

Some students recovered from the trauma of frequent exams via partying, deciding it was better to be under the influence in order to get over their academic standing. Some would meet up with their friends, maybe gossip about the latest episode of the hottest reality TV show. In your case, you decide to binge watch as many k-dramas as humanly possible. While you preferably do so in the comfort of your bed, tonight Megan has taken authoritative control over the dorm room. Meaning, she had a psychology midterm the following Monday and needed to be able to focus on nothing but the role of the amygdala without the OST of whatever drama you were watching in the background. You know for a fact if you were in the room minding your own business Megan would ultimately get distracted and join you in your k-drama marathon. Thus you are thrown to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and your belongings stuffed into your backpack.

You take extra care to avoid the puddles forming on the sidewalks, the result of on and off rain throughout the day. There are noticeably less people outside, and you have a feeling that any building you choose to house yourself in will be quite the opposite, likely packed with students. 

After milling about campus for a few minutes, you finally settle down in the Student Community Center - a fancy name for yet another building on campus where students could lounge about and study slash socialize. As predicted, there are significantly more people crowded in the lobby area of the two-story building. Your boots squeak against the tiled floor as you make your way down an inconspicuous hallway. Tile turns to carpeting when you step into an almost empty study room. Only a handful of people are present in the room, scattered across the tables and couches. No one ever bothered to check the rooms at the very ends of the hallways - only those more dedicated to being unbothered ever made it that far - and you were grateful for this as you settled down at one of the open couches.

Hotel Del Luna is the show of choice for the evening, and you cuddle up to the armrest of the couch as you press Play. You had watched this one before, having been forced to do so with Jungkook at its release. Curse him and his admiration for IU - some of the ghost scenes kept you up at night the weeks after watching. You much preferred the more lighthearted slice-of-life k-dramas, but following your phone call with Jungkook you were drawn to the darker show. Call it nostalgia, call it an attempt to relive the happy memories of the past, call it denial of reality, whatever.

You’re two hours into your binge watch when you notice an unfamiliar presence at your side. A boy, and a breathtaking one at that. When he had joined you, you’re not sure, but you catch him glancing at your laptop screen every so often. He doesn’t stick out too much, black hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap and similarly monotone attire with a black hoodie that was definitely way too big for him. Yet no amount of nondescript clothing could cover up his impeccable bone structure. This man had a jawline and a nose bridge that were to die for, and although you haven’t made eye contact with the stranger you’re already feeling self-conscious. There’s no way in hell you’re initiating any sort of interaction with him.

But there’s no need to worry, because the stranger does it for you.

You’re on episode three when there’s a gasp from beside you. “Lee Jun-Ki!” You crane your neck to see the stranger leaning over to watch your laptop screen. The work in front of him - whatever that mess of hieroglyphs and symbols was - is completely forgotten as he scoots closer. 

It’s not until you lean a bit away from him that he realizes his actions. “Oh, sorry. I kinda needed a break from studying or else I was gonna lose it.” His ears turn a bright pink as he explains himself. “Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“Uh…” Now that your full attention is on him, you give the stranger a proper glance-over. He was indeed studying, some sort of language of shapes and numbers that was foreign to you sprawled across his notebook in a variety of colors. Other than the all black attire (which was reasonable for college - wasn’t everyone attending their own funeral during exams season?), he didn’t look too shady… “Sure.”

“Sweet.” He extends a hand to you, pulling back the ginormous sleeve that threatens to hang over his fingers. “My name’s Jungwoo.”

You tentatively take his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Are you a first year?”

You nod your head, and Jungwoo smiles. “Cool. Me too.” He moves back to his side of the couch, but quickly scoots back to sit directly beside you after he has shoved all of his work into his backpack. He settles beside you on the couch, slouching down similarly to you. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You crack a smile at the boy’s unabashed boldness. He immerses himself in the episode alongside you, clear adoration in his eyes whenever IU makes an appearance on screen. “You like IU, I take it?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. “Not half as much as one of my friends. He idolizes her. I just... look at her very respectfully.”

“Me too, actually,” you confess. “My friend forced me to watch with him. I usually watch happier things. My favorite is Weightlifting Fairy.”

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. “I love Weightlifting Fairy!” His theatrical gasp attracts the attention of the few students nearby. This newfound information seems to make something click in Jungwoo’s head, because he wiggles all the more closer to you. “You’re quickly becoming my best friend, Y/N.”

“I’m a friend?” 

“Duh. This was established when you didn’t run away from me in fear when I was quite literally looking over your shoulder. And that’s happened before with other people. Twice.” He seems to feel the need to add in the last few details, much to your amusement. “Now shush. Lemme admire IU in peace.”

--

That interaction with Jungwoo is only the first of many, many more. While you’re the type to keep to yourself and not approach others, Jungwoo was the opposite. You’re only a bit surprised when he yells out your name from across the street a few days later, sprinting towards you with unbridled excitement on his face. The last time someone was that happy to see you was when your dog greeted you after returning home for the holidays.

“Good morning, Y/N! Where you headed? I have Material Sciences in an hour. I got time, so I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going!”

Much like your first encounter, you agree with some hesitance. Jungwoo seemed to not have a bad bone in his body, no ill intentions whatsoever. It was refreshing to be in the presence of someone who wasn’t already jaded by the world. 

As promised, Jungwoo walks with you to your destination, the coffeeshop, even waiting with you in the insufferably long line. You find out that Jungwoo is the same age as you, a Mechanical Engineering major, and is a part of some sort of club that allowed him to connect with upperclassmen of different majors but with similar interests.

“It’s called Nu Kappa Tau, everyone there’s really nice! I’ll bring you with me to the next social event.”

“Nu Kappa Tau?” You test out the syllables on your tongue. “Greek? Are you in... a fraternity?”

Your tone of voice insinuates something bad, and the way Jungwoo reacts quickly tells you he has a similar stance on the Greek life in college. That similar stance being that frat boys were vermin. “No, no no no no. It’s Greek, yes, but we are definitely not a fraternity. It’s more like… a social, cultural, and academic club?”

“Jungwoo. That’s exactly what a fraternity would say to make it seem like it’s not a fraternity.”

“Okay, but in this case we’re actually not a fraternity, I promise.” He tugs on your shirt sleeve and looks at you with pleading eyes. “You should come with me to the next event. It’ll be fun, and I’ll prove to you it’s not a fraternity. Please?”

You remain silent, eyes turning to the coffeshop’s menu. Even when your gaze is somewhere else you can sense the way Jungwoo is staring you down with those puppy dog eyes of his. This was what, the second time you were talking to him, and already he wanted to go to a social event with you? “I don’t know. You’re nice and all, but I’m not the type to warm up to people easily. I’ll have to hang out with you more first. No offense.”

Most people cower at your denials, retreat to more comfortable territory where there’s no fear of rejection. Jungwoo, however, beams at you. “None taken, Miss Y/N. You know why?” He pauses for dramatic effect, quirking an eyebrow in mischief. “Because that wasn’t a no.”

A few people in line crane their necks to peer at the two of you as a resonant smack rings out in the coffeeshop. 

“Ow - Y/N - Ow!” Jungwoo rubs at his upper arm. You know you didn’t hit him hard enough to elicit this sort of dramatic reaction, but it’s what he deserves. 

“You can’t use that logic, Jungwoo,” you scold, bag poised in the air ready for another attack. “The only means of consent is a yes. Say it with me. The only means of consent is a-”

“-Yes, yes, okay! I got it, I’m sorry. I sincerely apologize.”

--

Fast forward two weeks later, and you know Jungwoo a bit too well for your liking. Following your rejection of his offer, Jungwoo goes ahead and makes it a point to see you for at least an hour a day, weekends included, in order for you to “warm up to him.” Some days, it’s lunch shared in the cafeteria between classes. Other days it’s hours upon hours of studying together in the back of the library, you and Jungwoo taking shifts napping while the other crams for their classes. 

He forces - “heavily insists” - you to share your location with him on your phones, so it’s of no surprise to you when he starts showing up outside of your lecture halls after class. It’s when he’s walking you back from your last class of the day that you find that he lives a floor above you in the same building. Of course.

Dare you say it, it’s easy having Jungwoo in your life. He walks with you everywhere, always initiates conversation, and eats as many meals as possible with you - or as many as Megan allows. 

“Hey Y/N,” your roommate greets you with a warm smile which quickly turns into a steely glare when he acknowledges the young man standing by your side. “Ahem. Jungwoo.” 

If Jungwoo was a legitimate candidate for your mission of “getting laid,” Megan would be ecstatic. However, you explain to her that Jungwoo is nothing more than a friend, and suddenly Megan thinks he’s out to take her spot as Y/N’s Best Friend (insert trademark emoji here). 

“Megan, always a pleasure,” Jungwoo croons. If he’s perturbed by your roommate’s aloof greeting, he doesn’t show it, a smile growing on his face. Jungwoo turns to you. “See you at nine?”

You nod. “See you at nine. Bye.”

“Bye.” Jungwoo waves then walks down the hallway to the stairs. You wait until he’s out of sight to turn back to Megan, who has one eyebrow raised.

“What’s going on at nine?” She questions.

A defeated grin makes its way onto your lips. As much as you had been dreading what was to come, you couldn’t deny the excitement building up within you at the thought of something… new, for once in your life. “I’m going to my first party.”

--

Jungwoo, as promised, picks you up from your dorm room later that evening. He texts you an ominous message of i’m outside ur dorm lol for you to find him in the driver’s seat of a car far too expensive for any broke college student to own.

Hesitantly, you hop into the passenger seat and gingerly close the door. You’re not sure who he borrowed this from - or maybe it was a rental? - but you wanted to make sure you took no part in any damage fees he’d pay later. “I thought first years couldn’t have cars on campus.”

“I know. I’m a rule breaker, Y/N. I can’t be stopped… And maybe I borrowed it from a friend.”

Jungwoo insists on manning the aux, which you oblige to as you don’t trust your music taste to be liked by others. Something about the artist name Sergio Rachmaninov didn’t always hit well with the young folk these days. The queue starts up as he pulls out of the parking lot, a bass-boosted R&B song filling the expanse of the lush interior. 

“I’m going to warn you, this music queue is all over the place.” All over the place is correct, because after the R&B song finishes a ballad comes on, followed promptly by the song “Good Time” by Owl City. It’s a good song, a tolerable one, but after the second run, and third run, and even a fourth run you can’t help but wonder if the queue is glitching.

“Jungwoo.” He grunts in response. “Did you mean to put this song on loop?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? It helps me focus.”

You’re really questioning the sanity of the man behind the wheel.

Four and a half plays of “Good Time” (or fifteen minutes) later, you and Jungwoo arrive at your destination.

You audibly gulp. “Jungwoo. You are so in a frat.”

“No I’m not!” The man whines. “I swear!”

You and Jungwoo must not be looking at the same house, because the one you’re looking at is nothing less than a mansion: two stories, covering a wide expanse of vivid green lawn, with pillars on either side of the double-door front entry. Windows line the top and bottom floors, and hedges line the cobblestone walkway in the front. It looks like something out of a Southern period drama with the Victorian, colonial style architecture.

“You sure?” You can’t break your gaze away from the three enormous Greek letters placed above the entryway. “‘Cause no normal house emblazons the symbols of their group name across the front like that.”

As soon as you step foot in the door, you regret your decision to come. “Kim, I think I left something in the car-” 

You’re rudely interrupted by Jungwoo swinging an arm over your shoulder a bit too harshly. 

“Relax,” he reassures you. “My friends don’t bite. Only I do that.” You’re given no time to question that statement before he leads you further into the house.

If there’s one thing you can count on with Jungwoo, it’s his ability to socialize. It seems he knows everyone in the house, proven to you by the way he either nods his head or does a handshake with every individual present. He leads you to the kitchen where two guys are conversing, one looking like an overgrown man child and the other looking like… well, an actual child.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up,” the much taller boy croons. “And he brought a friend.”

“Johnny, this is Y/N. Y/N, Johnny. He’s in his fourth year.” You shake hands with Johnny, who grins at you. He seems nice, other than the fact that he continues to stare at you through the duration of the handshake. Perplexed, you refuse to break his gaze.

Johnny is the first to look away, turning immediately to Jungwoo. “Oh, I like her. No one has yet to win my staring contest this year, other than you, Y/N. Congratulations.”

You force a laugh. “Thanks?”

Jungwoo steers you to the second boy, this one noticeably shorter - or was he still tall? Anyone standing next to Johnny seemed to be dwarfed in his presence - with dyed blond hair. He has a cap over his head and circle glasses, and you can’t help but think he looks awfully young to be at a frat-but-not-really house party.

“And this is Mark. He’s a fellow first year, but he’s our baby.” Jungwoo coos the last word, making Mark huff. Lowering his voice to a stage whisper, Jungwoo explains, “He was born in 1999, so we have a good year on him.”

You click your tongue. Ah, that explains why he looks so young. You deem Mark to be far more approachable than Johnny and shake the young boy’s hand eagerly.

“Where’s Peaches?” Jungwoo asks Johnny. The older boy shrugs. 

“I dunno. Not my problem.”

“Oh, I don’t think Jaehyun’s coming,” Mark cuts in. “Texted me saying something came up. Something about a paper due. Wait. Didn’t you take his car?” He points to Jungwoo, who shrugs with a look of Whoops, sorry on his face.

Johnny groans. “Oh, shoot. That’s right. We have a paper due tomorrow morning.” As quickly as the realization hits him, the worry is gone. “Eh. It’ll be fine.”

The three boys converse a bit longer, exchanging pleasantries and whatnot, before you and Jungwoo make your departure. The most that comes out of your mouth are feeble courtesy laughs and the occasional sarcastic quip to keep Jungwoo’s chaotic energy at bay. You wait until Jungwoo’s led you away to voice your thoughts. “What kind of name is Peaches?” You repeat.

“Right. One of the upperclassmen got the nickname because he smelled like them his first day of recruitment. Apparently he lives near a peach tree orchard or something. Therefore, he’s Peach Boy.”

You make a mental note of the phrase recruitment your friend uses. One day, you’ll compile a long enough list of evidence proving Nu Kappa Tau was a frat, and the word recruitment was one of them. “So what’s your nickname then?”

“Me? I’m not technically initiated yet,” - did this man use the word initiated? Yet another piece of evidence for the fraternity agenda - “but if I had to choose…” Jungwoo pauses and drums his fingers against his chin. “I’m Cheese Boy.”

You pause, letting his name sink in. The laughter bubbles up within you, threatening to spill out in a snort. It instead comes out as a strong exhale through your nose.

“Whatever, Cheese Boy,” you tease. “How much longer until I can go home?”

--

The next time you see the boys of Nu Kappa Tau is when Jungwoo drags you to yet another one of their events but a few days later. “This one’s right up your alley,” he insists. He also bribes you with the promise of buying your lunch, and the kabob food truck was on campus today, meaning you were eating well this afternoon. Making an appearance at his frat was but a small price to pay for your beloved meal of choice.

Jungwoo’s right - this event is up your alley, because you recognize the route he takes across campus. “The library?”

He nods. “NKT Study Hall.”

As you enter the building Jungwoo pulls you down an unfamiliar corridor then up a flight of stairs. An unspoken farewell is bid to your usual study spot by the second floor window as you continue up, up, up, until finally stopping at the fifth floor where no more stairs remain. You didn’t realize the library went up that high, and you probably frequented the building more than all of the boys combined - not that you knew any of the Kappa Tau boys yet.

Though they do look extremely threatening now that you’re standing in front of them.

Jungwoo brings you to stand in front of him. “Men and Mark Lee-” (“Hey!” Mark complains,) “-I introduce to you my partner in crime, Y/N.”

You give a feeble smile to the young men surrounding the table. You recognize a few of them from the party, Johnny and Mark being the only ones you can put a name to. The two wave to you and you feel a little more welcomed. Aside from the duo, everyone else is unfamiliar, giving you emotionless head nods and scowls.

“Y/N, you know Johnny and Mark, over there’s Lucas, and that’s Sicheng.” You nod at the two of them, who seem nice enough. The latter actually gives you a soft smile, so you consider that a win in your book. “And over at that table is Doyoung, Ten… You know what? I’ll just introduce you to everyone later. Have a seat.”

You trust your friend to guide you to the safest open seat, directly across from another empty chair at one end of the long table. Immediately you pull out your biology notebook and pens, hunkering down and getting to work without further notice. If you couldn’t feel welcomed by the boys at the table, you could at least get some decent studying done. You felt far more familiar with the speciation concepts in front of you than the actual human beings next to you. You allow your head to burrow itself closer to your notebook, dwelling in this small comfort in an environment of unfamiliarities.

The moment of peace doesn’t last long.

“Peaches!” Johnny’s bellowing voice makes you jump in your seat, your beloved biology notes neglected.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Huh. You’ve heard that voice before. You can’t place where you know it from, but it causes a sneer to form on your face. Glancing up from your notes you can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves your lips.

It’s him. You’d recognize that faded pink hair and smugly complacent upturn of lips anywhere. That, and he’s holding a coffee cup that violently catapults you back to the incident from a few weeks ago in the coffee shop. You left your perfectly good vanilla latte behind because he made you mad, that jerk.

“Oh, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo leads the man to the open seat across from you. Pointing to you, he says, “This is Peaches - I mean, Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is-”

“-Y/N, right?” Jaehyun interrupts with a grin. You lower your eyes at the dimple that forms when he smiles. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Jungwoo looks from your displeased state to Jaehyun’s smug smirk. “Uh, okay. Cool. Well then. I’m gonna go ahead and grab lunch, I’ll be right back.” You watch as Jungwoo beckons Johnny and Mark to join him, the only three familiar faces present at the table now leaving.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, arms moving to rest behind his head. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

You weigh your options. You could recognize that the two of you have indeed met before, and try to get past your differences. Or, you could refuse to acknowledge Jaehyun’s presence a mere few feet across from you at the table and try your best to study until Jungwoo returned with your food, at which point you would then flee the scene as fast as your non-athlete self could. Only one of these outcomes enticed you, and it wasn’t the one that involved talking. 

“So, Y/N,” Jaehyun leans forward. The width of the table is enough to keep him at a safe distance from you, yet he’s still close enough to invade your personal space somehow. It’s suffocating, how whatever musky cologne he’s wearing wafts over to you - he smells nothing like peaches. “How’s your day been?”

“Fine.” You keep your eyes glued to your biology notes. Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species become isolated from one another due to-

“Aw, just fine? That’s it?” His voice is low. With Jungwoo, Johnny, and Mark out getting food, you’ve been isolated at one end of the table with Jaehyun. Lucas and Sicheng are present as well, but both seem to be deeply immersed in their own studies. It’s just the two of you.

“Yep.” Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species-

“C’mon, I’m sure someone like you has had at least one interesting thing happen today.”

Allopatric Speciation occurs when - Someone like you? What was that supposed to mean? You sigh, but refuse to look up from your notes. Allopatric Speciation-

“Are you a first year? I took that class last year. If you ever want notes or something-” Jaehyun jumps a little when you slam the notebook shut. Good. Serves him right.

“I don’t like you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the end of his lips. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

He leans in by resting his forearms on the table, leveling his gaze with yours. “I don’t think you do.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re distracting me.”

Jungwoo comes back at the most opportune time, wielding a kabob skewer in each hand - one untouched and the other halfway eaten. “One chicken kabob for Y/N.”

Deeming the conversation with Jaehyun at its end, you stand up from your seat and grab your backpack from the table. Jaehyun fixes you with an intense gaze but remains silent. Whether he was sizing you up or not you didn’t care.

The tension is palpable at the table, and Jungwoo clears his throat. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“No,” you respond quickly. Grabbing your food from Jungwoo, you give him an apologetic smile. “Something came up. I gotta go. Sorry, Kim. See you tomorrow?”

You despise this man. You don’t even know Jaehyun - he is nothing but a familiar stranger - but you despise him. Him and his ethereal appearance. Why were the terrible ones always the ones blessed with above average looks? Why’d he have to open his mouth?

“Wait.” You do not, in fact, wait, but instead continue marching forward. It’s not until the figure stands right in front of you do you stop. It’s Jaehyun. Holding your biology notebook in the air. “Don’t want to leave anything behind. Like last time, right?”

The last few words out of his mouth have your blood boiling and your fists clenching at your sides. That explained the foreign lightness of the bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, right, the vanilla latte.” You fake a cordial laugh. “You mean the time I was so desperate to get away from your insufferable presence that I left behind a perfectly good coffee? The time when you treated that girl as if she wasn’t a human being? That time you couldn’t be a decent enough human being that you were that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know?” 

Jaehyun stands before you with an astonished smile and a hand frozen in the air. You pluck the notebook out of his grasp and stride away before he has a chance to respond.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaehyun calls.

“I’ll see you around my ass,” you mutter under your breath. You’re willing to go out of your way to avoid interactions with Jaehyun, no matter what it takes.

a/n 2: hope you enjoyed part one of this series! it’s been a while since i last posted a fic on here so i apologize for my rusty writing skills. part 2 is projected to be posted in one week from now, but that’s tentative. we’ll see where life takes me and if i have the capacity to post in a week from now. in the meantime: stay safe! 💕

[kiwi-bitchez]

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut. 

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you. 

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable. 

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party. 

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough. 

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish. 

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card. 

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction. 

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.” 

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone. 

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him. 

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.” 

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you. 

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.” 

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to. 

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?” 

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.” 

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.” 

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him. 

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.” 

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face. 

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly. 

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look. 

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once. 

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable. 

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind. 

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face. 

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation. 

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

 He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face. 

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure. 

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat. 

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.  

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft. 

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching. 

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair. 

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor. 

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes. 

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.” 

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.” 

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

[adropofgoldenrachelx]

No Show - A Thread: Part One

Summary: Rachel has been a no show for a while and Toulouse shows up at her door to find out what’s going down. She tells him her story, and why she’s been hauled up inside for a week. It’s kinda sad but also it’s cute and we’re not sorry. Reply order: Rachel, Toulouse (blockquotes).

Featuring: Rachel and @beaumont-ague , Mom (Arianna) and Dad (Fredrick). Also guest appearance from Dad’s Moustache.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, flashbacks, references to past trauma as with the drabble.

—————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t like Rachel to choose not to go to her classes. She hadn’t missed a single day (except for three days where she was overcome with an unfortunate flu and forced to stay in her bed) since enrollment, and by every intention she wouldn’t miss another. College had been a grand milestone in her life, after finding her freedom and spending her first two years in an intense schooling program to bring her up to the standard (or as close to) of her peers. It hadn’t been easy, given what they were working with, but she worked her butt off and was finally allowed to enrol in Redwood College when she received her high school diploma. Rachel loved learning, so much so that, after finding enough courage, she would sneak into the back of lecture halls she wasn’t enrolled for just so she could learn as much as humanly possible.

So, for Rachel to be missing from class for a day, two days, a week was strange.

She hadn’t told anyone she wouldn’t be there. It hadn’t been planned, but she had lost so much sleep lately that she slept in for her morning lecture, and then couldn’t face showing up late in the afternoon. It spiralled from there, and now here she was, cooped up in her bedroom a week later wishing she wasn’t. Artist Block she would say, all the while painting away at the mural on her bedroom wall.

It was Rachel’s father, Frederick, who answered the door. He was an imposing figure, moustached for the gods and flaunting a raised brow at the young man who had knocked looking for his daughter.

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse didn’t really pay attention to who he saw and who he didn’t see around campus on a daily basis. Actually, he never really paid all that much attention to anything on campus, let alone people. He was always in his own world, rushing to classes or trying to get inspiration for a new piece. However, one person that he knew for sure he hadn’t seen in a few days was Rachel. At first, it hadn’t dawned on him that he didn’t see her for a few days. What gave it away, was the fact that he’d delivered his latest gift to her for their gift exchange, he hadn’t received one back. Even if they’d only known each other a short period of time, it just didn’t seem to be in character for her to up and quit. At least not without an explanation.

Of course, that wasn’t why he was worried or upset. He didn’t mind that she hadn’t given him a gift. In fact, he did feel slightly guilty for enjoying that he was currently winning. The lack of gifts in their exchange had simply alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t seen her recently, prompting him to ask around. Rachel was fairly popular. Of course she was, he thought to himself as he’d gotten plenty of answers when asking for her around campus. Toulouse had managed to get her address, and fortunately someone was nice enough to tip him off that her parents could be sort of… strict. How strict, he hadn’t known, but he thought it better to make a decent impression than show up in his sweatshirt and joggers that he’d been wearing to class. Substituting them for a polo with some slacks and loafers was a much better choice. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t take pride in his appearance, he really did. But, it was to be expected of a college kid to just want to get through class, and really, he didn’t have that many people to impress. Throwing on a watch and trying to comb his unruly mess of hair before leaving, Toulouse made sure to bring his phone and one of his rings, which he often used as a fidget toy. He didn’t suspect he’d need it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have it along. When he’d arrived at Rachel’s address -at least, he hoped it was the correct address- he was met by a rather tall man with an even more intimidating mustache. This was where his proper etiquette would come in handy. 

“Hi Sir,” he greeted the man politely with confidence. “My name is Toulouse Beaumont, I go to school with your daughter. Some of us were worried when we realized we hadn’t seen her around the campus in a few days, and were hoping to see that she was alright. I also had some assignments to drop off for her, if that’s alright?” Holding out a small stack of papers, only the top was a legitimate assignment. The rest were ones he’d made up, copying previous lesson plans he’d seen or received. Of course, no one else would know that without a very close inspection. “One we’re supposed to work on together, actually,” he added quickly after, to strengthen the chance he might get to actually see Rachel. Her father could very easily just take the papers and ask him to leave, which he had prepared for, though he was optimistic. 

—————————————————————————————————

Frederick could hardly help himself from vetting everyone that came within a ten mile radius of Rachel and their home, and had no intention of being any less intimidating when Toulouse introduced himself politely, or explained the reason for his visit. “Rachel is doing perfectly fine,” he answered, offering no further explanation to her current plight. It was none of this young man’s business, after all. “I’ll pass the a--” Frederick was soon interrupted.

Rachel’s mom had been in the sitting room reading, but emerged behind her husband shortly after Toulouse introduced himself. Arianna was a touch more savvy than her husband (though not any less protective) and knew that it was important for Rachel to still see her friends. She recognised his name after Rachel had come home from the festival gushing about paper flowers and cupcakes. Arianna didn’t have to say much to Frederick -a cough and a lifted brow was enough- before he stepped out of the doorframe begrudgingly.

“Rachel’s in her room,” Arianna offered, gesturing to the foot of the stairs. It was important to her that Rachel was treated like everyone else, and if that meant letting her friends in to see her, then so be it. The young man didn’t seem like he would hurt a fly anyway and Arianna was sure her daughter wouldn’t want to miss out on too much work. “You can head up, but knock on her door first. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll pass the assignment on for you.”

Rachel was still occupied by her painting, huddled under a quilt on the floor like she was turning into a human tent. She wasn’t sure how long she had been trying to mix this very specific shade of coral, but she had every intention of keeping at it, humming and singing and mumbling to herself to pass the time and fill the silence.

Had she any inkling that Toulouse might appear, she would have made herself look slightly more presentable, maybe even tidying up her paints and forty other hobbies and projects she had been occupying her hands (and her mind with) over the week.

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse was never that great at talking to older men, and he knew the exact reason why, but he didn’t feel the need to disclose that at the moment. Fathers and father figures just weren’t a comfortable subject for him. Mothers, on the other hand, were different. He knew how to win over the heart of a mother figure. If it weren’t for Rachel’s mother sitting in the other room, he was sure that he would have to go back to his dorm and try to figure out a different way to speak to Rachel. Thank god for that, as she quickly stepped in to allow him into their home. 

With a grateful smile, Toulouse gave her a wave. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome.” If Rachel didn’t want company, he’d leave willingly. Still, it didn’t hurt to try, right? He mainly was just glad to hear that she was alright. Toulouse hadn’t completely lied when he said there was something that the both of them were meant to work on. It just wasn’t an official assignment. Rather, something to cheer her up. That was of course, permitted that she wanted to be seen. 

Taking the stairs up to the second floor, Toulouse took a guess at where Rachel’s room would be, and was just about to knock when he heard soft humming on the other side. Definitely her room, then, he thought to himself. His hand had been raised, ready to knock, though it slowly lowered as he listened to her sing more. She sounded nice, better than most people who casually sang to themselves. It may have been a selfish move, but rather than announce his presence, he stayed for a moment and just enjoyed her singing, eventually joining in subconsciously as he leaned up against the wall. 

—————————————————————————————————

Arianna offered Toulouse a sweet smile, all the while side-eyeing her husband who had puffed up his chest and was acting a little miffed. She would have a gentle word with him later, but for now they would leave Toulouse to it. Rachel’s room wasn’t terribly hard to locate, as she had started painting her door with some pretty flowers (fully intending on moving on to every door in the house when she had the time for it). 

Rachel continued to sing, none the wiser to the listening ear at her door. She liked to sing, finding it a pleasant way to fill silence. She sang in the studio sometimes, and she sang in the shower, and when she was making breakfast. It was a comfortable past-time. Of course, she didn’t always have an audience (a visible one anyway) and so the faint voice from the hallway, matching her song, caught her off guard. Dad didn’t sing (and the voice wasn’t deep enough to be Dad’s if he did). After a short continuation, to make sure she wasn’t going completely loopy and making up harmonies in her head, Rachel’s singing fizzled out.

There was a brief panic that her parents had left the house, and someone had broken into her house. (That had happened before, it wasn’t a wild conclusion to draw.) With her quilt still draped over her shoulders, Rachel grabbed the first thing at hand (thankfully not a frying pan) and crept toward her bedroom door, opening it just enough that she could see who was standing on the other side and close it swiftly if she had to.

It was a surprise (a pleasant one) to find Toulouse leaning on the wall outside her room, a stack of papers in hand (and an equally pleasant look on his face.)

Oh no. Oh no, the room is a mess! My hair is a mess! I’m holding a weapon! He’s gonna think I’m a weirdo!!!

There was no time to fix anything, so all she could do was stare dumbfounded from behind her door frame. “Hi…” Rachel managed, throwing on the closest thing she could find to a cheery smile. Should she bring up the singing thing? It was kinda cute… No, no that would be peak weirdo, he obviously didn’t know she could hear him, right..? She went for the safe option. Or rather, the obvious question that anyone who wasn’t totally freaking out right now would ask. “Uh… Come here often?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right one. 

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse wasn’t sure how long he would wait before knocking on the door. He was preoccupied listening to her sing, which was probably weird, in hindsight, but he’d deal with those consequences later. Sure enough, later came quickly, and Rachel was opening the door faster than Toulouse expected her too. Maybe he was singing a bit louder than he thought, since it seemed a little too coincidental that she would be leaving her room at that moment. 

He made no comments about her appearance, or the fact that she was only looking at him through a crack in her bedroom door. “No, actually. Not yet, at least,” Toulouse responded to her question with a chuckle. “Actually, I’m sort of surprised I made it this far. Remind me to thank your mom later.” Clearly Rachel wasn’t expecting company, and he could understand why. Anyone who knocked on the door would have likely been greeted by Mr. Moustachio, potentially with a scripted list of questions before being turned away. He wasn’t rude, just... stern, from the impression Toulouse gathered. 

It was at that moment that his eyes lowered a bit to an object that Rachel was holding in her hand. Pointing to it hesitantly, Toulouse furrowed his brows before asking, “Is that… is that a lamp?” The amount of effort it took for him to keep a straight face was almost painstaking, a smile creeping onto his face as he tried not to laugh. He sort of understood, afterall, given that he’d just been standing outside her room with no warning. “Maybe we ought to plug that in, yeah? It’d be a bit hard to read these in the dark.” He gestured to the papers in his hand. 

Mentioning the assignments was mainly so that in case her father was listening to their conversation downstairs, his story would ring true. While he didn’t want to invite himself into Rachel’s room, as that was sort of a private matter, the suggestion of plugging in the lamp and going over the papers implied that it might be easier to do so somewhere other than the hallway. 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel was kicking herself for her awkwardness, though Toulouse seemed to take her stupid question in his stride. It had hardly occurred to her that Toulouse would have knocked the front door, and that Dad would have answered it. He meant well, Rachel knew, but she wished he was less stubborn sometimes. “Oh, you made it past Dad,” she laughed apologetically. “Sorry about him, he’s kind of… He means well.”

Rachel grimaced, glancing down at the lamp in hand. What on earth was she thinking? That a lamp could save her butt? She floundered for a reasonable explanation as to why she brought a lamp with her to greet a guest at the door. “... Yes… Yes, this is a lamp. I was just-- It needed… dusting...” Yeah, that could work. She was going to dust it! The reality was Rachel was jumpy, but there was no chance she was going to explain that right now.

Wildly embarrassed at sporting the lamp, but deciding hiding behind the door was only making it worse, Rachel opened the door just enough to invite Toulouse in, still hiding behind the door itself. Now that she knew she wouldn’t have to use the lamp on him, it seemed silly to leave him standing out in the hallway. “Sorry,” Rachel laughed quietly. “Uh, you can come in just-- Ignore the mess?”

By Rachel standards, the room was a bombsite but it wasn’t nearly as messy as she thought it was. Everything had a place, and she tidied every morning when she woke up to make sure nothing was amiss. There were paints and a few sketchbooks dotted around the floor that she had been using, and a half eaten plate of cookies on her dresser as well as a few odds and ends not in their proper home. (Notably, the paper flowers Toulouse had given her at the Hootenanny had a special place on the centre of her bookcase, inside a tiny vase, and the other gifts from their competition were set out neatly on her desk by the window.) By any other standards, her room was perfectly fine but she scurried to place the lamp back where it belonged and then set about moving a few things to make the place seem more presentable.

—————————————————————————————————

This was probably the first time that Toulouse got to see Rachel’s awkward side. It was a nice change of pace, really, though he wouldn’t dare say that out loud. No, he would keep that to himself for his own enjoyment. “I can tell. It’s alright, seriously. I’d probably be a little weary too about some strange kid showing up at my doorstep.” Giving a shrug, he looked back at her with a playful grin. 

Did he believe the lie? Of course not. Did he pretend to? Yes, yes he did. “Makes sense. I usually forget to dust my lamps, but you know, too much dust could be a fire hazard. Good on you for being proactive.” Toulouse was grateful for the invitation inside, slipping past the door. Truthfully, he was pretty curious to see what her room was like. Toulouse always thought that a person’s bedroom was another outward expression of themselves, and to be invited into one was a rather intimate matter in a different way than most people would associate it. He liked his space, and only if he fully trusted someone would he ever let them into his room back home. At school, it was slightly different, but still, he liked to control who was and was not allowed to see certain things.

Immediately, he started to look around, not at the so-called mess that Rachel tried to get him to ignore, but all of the things that made this Rachel’s room. Besides, it was hardly messy at all. He noticed the paper flowers that he had gotten her, which made him smile, perhaps even more than seeing all of their little knick knacks from their gift exchange going on. Then, he noticed that Rachel was fussing about, trying to clean and organize what she likely saw as the mess she’d left behind, not thinking anyone would be over. “You don’t have to do all of that. Trust me, my room is five times messier than this when I’m home for longer than the weekend. I’ve seen far worse,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood before bringing up the serious topic. “Sorry I didn’t say anything before showing up. But, since you never returned the gift I gave you last time, I just had to come find out your excuse.” 

His words were light, and playful, and much better at bringing up the subject of Rachel’s absence than flat out asking her why she hadn’t been at school recently. It must have been a good reason, considering it wasn’t like her to skip, from what he knew about her, and the fact that she looked hesitant and possibly even scared to open her door. 

—————————————————————————————————

It seemed her Father was weary of anyone that showed up at the door looking for Rachel, whether they were rough and tumble or not, but she couldn’t blame him for it, given circumstances. Of course, Toulouse didn’t know the circumstances. Maybe if none of this had happened Toulouse could have waltzed right in. “I did tell him about you, a little, but there’s not much convincing him everyone is fine.”

She glanced at the lamp, giving it a quick dust (partly to prove the lie, mostly because Toulouse was totally right and she didn’t want the curtains catching fire.) “Yeah, it’s always the last thing to get cleaned, I guess.“ Despite the insistence that she didn’t have to tidy up, Rachel continued to do so anyway, putting things back where they were supposed to be, with the exception of the paints that she intended on using to work on her mural after Toulouse left again. If anything, it was nerves. Something to keep herself occupied with that didn’t involve any anxious tugging at her hair (her tell). Usually she was better practiced in hiding all of her messy feelings, except for those who knew her, but she wasn’t having much luck today. “At least let me clear you a seat,” Rachel insisted, lifting a few cushions to give them a good fluff before she plopped them down at the bottom of her bed. She didn’t have guests over very often, and her desk chair wasn’t the most comfortable. Cass always sat on her bed when she visited, so it didn’t seem strange to think Toulouse could do the same.

Rachel gasped with the realisation that, in cooping herself up, she had forgotten all about Toulouse’s gift. So much so that she hadn’t even thought about making it yet. Immediately, she jumped to the conclusion that he must think she was a terrible friend for not keeping the exchange going and then saying nothing to him all week. That was textbook bad friend, right? “Oh no! I-- Sorry! I forgot all about it and I haven’t made it yet but I promise I’ll return it by, like, Tuesday.”

(Toulouse, well-intentioned though he was, had picked a bad week to visit.)

“It’s just that it’s been kind of a weird week and I got… artist’s block and stuff and it went totally out of my head.”

—————————————————————————————————

It came as a bit of a shock to hear Rachel admit that she told her parents about him. Surely that was normal though, wasn’t it? To talk about your friends to your parents? Toulouse never really understood those parents who had known their children's friends for years and yet still couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. He hoped that if he were ever to become one that he wouldn’t be one of those. “Maybe he’ll warm up in time,” the blond shrugged. Not that Toulouse was planning on coming over every day, as that was a bit excessive to think about now, but still he’d hoped to spend more time with Rachel in the future, thus meaning eventually they’d probably come round each other’s homes more often. His mother would definitely be more than willing to have her over. 

Something was definitely wrong. Over the years, Toulouse had been able to pick up on habits that people tended to develop under stress or trauma, and this was giving him flashbacks. Clearly Rachel was bothered by something, and though he wanted to be there to listen to it, he also didn’t want to force her to talk about something she didn’t want to. Clearing them spaces to sit was fair enough, so he didn’t object. Before sitting down, Toulouse took his shoes off so as to not get anything dirty. 

Unfortunately for Toulouse, Rachel must have been too focused in her manic cleaning spree and overthinking that she didn’t understand he’d meant to go about it in a light hearted way. That wasn’t what he cared about, really, but he wanted Rachel to open up on her own terms. “Hey, hey, it’s fine, Rachel, really.” Anything he said however was going in one ear and out the other as Rachel continued to ramble. Finally, Toulouse just reached forward and grabbed her hands, squeezing them to get her attention. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about the gift, or how long it takes, really. Don’t fuss over it. I’ll survive another week, I’m sure,” he smiled softly, shaking his head to reassure her that he didn’t need it right there and then. 

Letting her hands go, Toulouse put them by his sides as he scooted further back onto the bed. “Everyone gets artists’ block now and then, no need to stress about it. I just meant that you haven’t been around, recently. Is everything ok?”

—————————————————————————————————

"I hope so," Rachel replied casually, truly hoping her Dad would relax a little more around any of her friends. He seemed to like Cass well enough, but Rachel guessed that was mostly because of her job. She didn't invite many other friends over, but that was mostly because she preferred spending as little time indoors as she could. Still, it would have been nice if Dad's moustache didn't turn upside down whenever he was greeted with a new guest.

Rachel was trying very hard to remain as chill as possible, and keep the freaking out to a bare minimum. Usually she was better at hiding her worry than this, or she thought so at least (but there was a lot to unpack with that, which was another thing Rachel didn't need to completely spiral over). Her smile was still genuine, thankful for the company that Toulouse offered, but it didn't quite hit her eyes in the usual sunny way. 

It felt a little like she was walking in circles, moving things here and there that didn't need to be moved and she would have kept at it had Toulouse not taken her hands, catching her off guard and stopping her in her tracks. Rachel had jumped to so many conclusions in a minute that now she felt all kinds of silly for worrying over nothing. The squeeze of their hands was just enough to halt that worry. "Are you sure..?" Rachel asked quietly, just to be totally one hundred percent sure that he wasn't actually upset about the gift thing.

It was an instinct to twist the ends of a lock of hair when he let go, rapping it absently around her fingers as she sighed onto the free space on the bed. She didn't think anyone would notice her absence enough to wonder where she was, let alone come to check up on her. Rachel hesitated too long to reasonably answer yes to Toulouse's concern. Artist block wouldn't cut it. Would a proper explanation do any better though? Rachel wasn't sure what she could even say without the risk of Toulouse freaking out too.

"I've been worse?" Rachel admitted finally, a grimace masked by a bashful laugh. "It's… hard to explain. I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone, I'll be honest. I just… I mean, I wanted to go to class but I just couldn't, I guess. I don't know." 

—————————————————————————————————

As someone who was used to having his own difficulties with anxiety, Toulouse understood that Rachel was probably just acting on those impulses, which was why he didn’t try harder to stop her from running about and cleaning. Sometimes you just had to get it out of your system, and he understood that. Control what you could, and confront what you couldn’t. Only, it was the confronting part that he was worried about for her. Had she even taken the time to sit down and process why she had been missing classes? He didn’t know the reason himself, but he hoped that she did, and would understand why that was.

Grateful that catching her hands seemed to calm her down at least a little bit, he nodded casually with a smile. “Absolutely. Besides, you know you never even had to get me one in the first place. I haven’t been expecting any of the ones you’ve given so far. Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d give up one day, ‘cause that’d mean that I won,” he teased, laughing as she sat down on the bed.

Anything was hard to explain when it came with emotional baggage. Toulouse was sure that he could handle it, though, after years of practice. “Try me. I bet you I’ve heard stranger stories.” When she mentioned not assuming anyone would notice she was gone, however, Toulouse took that a bit personally. He didn’t show it of course, but the personal offence was only because he really didn’t think Rachel was being as kind to herself as she could be. “How could someone not? I mean, you’re probably one of the most outgoing people who go to that school. It’d be stupid for no one to notice.”

Laying down on his side, Toulouse propped himself up onto his elbow, his gaze softening as he looked to her to continue speaking. He wanted to know as much as she would tell him, but didn’t push too far. “That’s understandable, I mean sometimes we all need a break to deal with emotional things. Do you think talking about it might help? I’m a great listener, if I do say so myself,” he humbly bragged, trying to get her to smile. 

“Or, if you’d prefer, I can ask you questions completely unrelated to any of that, and try to take your mind off of it? I have the perfect one to start,” Toulouse assured. “For example…” His facial expression suddenly got quite serious, leaning in slightly toward her as if to tell her some sort of precious secret. “How long did it take your dad to grow that moustache?” He couldn’t even keep a straight face as he nearly burst into laughter, shaking his head. “But really, I have to know! It’s quite impressive.”

—————————————————————————————————

Glad that Toulouse wasn’t fussed about the gift, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. It was one less thing to worry about. That being said, there was no way she was not going to give him a gift at some point just because she was feeling down. It was a competition, after all. Rachel wasn’t a quitter. “Sorry, you haven’t won yet. This is just a momentary interlude.”

“Trust me, you really haven’t…” Rachel insisted through an awkward laugh, running her fingers through her hair. She would be willing to put a bet on it, actually. If it wasn’t her own story, she would have thought the whole kidnapped as a baby, raised by a fake ‘Mother’ in isolation for nineteen years, then rescued by some dude who eventually abandoned you and became your art teacher four years later all while coming out relatively unscathed thing was totally made up. Truthfully, it had been suggested to Rachel that she didn’t bring it up as flippantly as she had done when she was first introduced to the outside world and now she wasn’t really sure if she should bring it up ever. She said nothing to the fact that people might actually notice if she was gone, shrugging it off to avoid arguing another case against herself.

“I’m not sure if I should,” Rachel admitted meekly. It might not do any harm, or it could tarnish Flynn’s newfound reputation. Rachel held her breath when Toulouse leaned in like he was about to tell her a secret, and snorted a laugh when his question came. It was a totally unexpected one. “He does have a very impressive moustache, doesn’t he?” Rachel nodded, relaxing just enough to keep laughing. “He’s had it as long as I’ve known him. I think he even had the moustache on his wedding day.”

A distraction would have been welcome, but it also could have been part of the problem. Everything previously scattered around her room had been a distraction, as was the current patch of wet paint on the wall, and the five batches of cookies she had baked for everyone at the precinct, and everything else she had done until she couldn’t take it any longer. Rachel desperately wanted the distraction Toulouse was bringing in making her laugh -Cass would have insisted she face the problem head on instead- but if Toulouse had any intention of sticking around, it made sense that he would have to know what was going on.

Rachel hesitated for a moment, looking rather serious as she looked for any sign that Toulouse would nope on out of the conversation the moment he realised just how much baggage she was about to unload on him. He seemed trustworthy enough, but that kind of thinking had gotten her burned before. “Can I trust you?” she asked. It seemed the simplest way of knowing. She didn’t think he would lie. “I mean, I probably should actually tell you some things if we’re going to be friends and all that but if I tell you, you have to promise not to freak out.”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse had to admit by now that he was curious. What could be so mind boggling that Rachel seemed to think he would find her crazy. He had his own fucked up past, sure, and knew very well that most people did. For whatever reason that just didn’t seem to fit Rachel’s personality. For someone so nice to have such dark secrets… it was both scary and intriguing. “Hey, I understand. Trust me, I won’t take it personally if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to make you talk about it.” 

Hearing Rachel laugh was possible one of the best sounds he’d ever heard. The worrying after not seeing her for a week or so had been dialed down once he made it past her front step, but making her laugh made it worth the concern. “Do you think it takes a lot of effort to keep it looking so nice? I mean, one could only imagine,” he continued, chuckling to himself as they joked around. The joking didn’t last forever though, and by the expression change on Rachel’s face, he wondered if she was going to start opening up more. 

Had Rachel not looked so serious, Toulouse might have answered somewhat sarcastically. But with Rachel, his sarcasm meter was usually lower anyway. So instead, he gave her a reassuring nod. “Of course. I trust you, so I hope you would be able to trust me. Here, give me your pinky.” Toulouse shifted closer to her, sitting upright on the bed with his own pinky extended. “Have you ever heard of a pinky promise? They can never be broken, so that means they’re extra special,” he explained with a smile.

Toulouse took his pinky promises very seriously. Hopefully Rachel would too, since this was the best way that he could think of to ensure she trusted him. “You should never make a pinky promise if you plan on going back on your word. So, I’m going to pinky promise to you, that whatever you tell me, anything at all, whether it be that you have an evil twin, or like… you hate coffee or something ridiculous,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, I pinky promise I won’t freak out, and that you can trust me with anything.” 

—————————————————————————————————

“Don’t tell him I told you, but he spends ages in the bathroom preening it.” A sincere smile swept Rachel’s features as she looped Toulouse’s pinky around her own. Rachel never broke a promise. She liked having a signifier of trust here. “Thank you,” she replied gently and could only hope he meant it.

Rachel took a deep breath; it was mostly to steady herself, but it was also a preparation for the long, rambling story she was about to tell. She supposed the best way to go about telling the story was to just let it all out in one fell swoop. The quicker it was out, the quicker it was done and the quicker Rachel could shrug it all off like none of this was really that big of a deal. 

“Okay, so,” she began, pushing her hair back from her face. Just rip the bandaid off. “I’m a-- I was a Milk Carton Kid. I was kidnapped when I was a baby, and raised by a woman who I thought was my mother. She homeschooled me, sort of, and said that there were people out there-- out here-- that would want to hurt me, or steal me. That I had to stay inside the house, with her, so she could protect me.”

Rachel took a pause, glancing carefully at Toulouse. Any sign of a freak out and she would end her story there. It had been the easy part for Rachel to tell, but it also happened to be the part of the story that made most people uncomfortable. Still, Toulouse promised not to freak out, and Rachel was going to hold him to it. She went on but her stomach was starting to turn itself in knots again, and the fingers through her hair found a lock to tug at.

“‘Mother’ was the only person I knew for my whole life, and she never let me-- I never-- I thought everything outside of my home was dangerous and scary, and that the ruffians and thugs would probably get me. I had thought about asking her to take me to see the lights for my birthday a few times, but something always came up so we never did… Um, but anyway, one day when ‘Mother’ was gone someone broke into our house, not realising I was in there, and I obviously totally freaked out and hit him with my frying pan because I’d never seen a grown man before.” 

(At this, Rachel hoped Toulouse had forgotten about the lamp.) 

“When he woke back up… I asked him to take me with him. I wanted to see the lights on my birthday, and he agreed to take me there and bring me back in one piece.”

Here, Rachel hesitated. She had lost so much sleep in the past few weeks over the next part of the story that she could feel the knots tightening, and her eyes starting to sting at the corners. That would surely be enough for Toulouse to process for a moment while she swallowed the horrible feeling.

—————————————————————————————————

When Rachel started to tell her story, Toulouse used all of his focus to make sure he was giving her his undivided attention. He could tell as soon as she started that it was a very emotional story. What he didn’t expect however was just how traumatizing it was going to be. Not wanting to be disrespectful by interrupting, Toulouse let her get everything out, hoping it would help her from stopping and creating awkward silences. Watching her body language, it was obvious that the topic was uncomfortable to talk about. For that, he commended her greatly. 

As soon as she did pause, Toulouse jumped into the conversation so that she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. He had promised not to freak out, and though all of this was pretty freak out worthy, he wasn’t going to break his promise. “Wow… so you’ve only really been home for a few years? That’s… well, I couldn’t even imagine.” For Toulouse, his family meant everything. To think that Rachel was raised from such a young age to find out that her mother was just some deranged lady who’d kidnapped her? He wouldn’t have known how he’d react. No wonder she was having so many emotions the past week. Not to mention she’d robbed Rachel of things like basic human knowledge. To have never seen a grown man before sounded almost impossible. 

“So… you saw them, then? And what happened after that? I mean, obviously you found your parents eventually.” Toulouse could see she was hesitant to continue. Pausing for a moment, he shifted his positioning on the bed to get more comfortable and turned to her. “You don’t have to keep going, if you don’t want to. It’s just- I know what it’s like. To you know, go through something pretty traumatic.” He didn’t want to unload all of his trauma on her, especially not when this was supposed to be a safe time and place for her to tell him what was on her mind. Rachel deserved to tell her story with no judgement and no diversions. 

—————————————————————————————————

“Four years this month,” Rachel admitted quietly, a strange melancholy lingering in her chest. It felt like much longer, and somehow like no time had passed at all. Until recently, Rachel thought she had been doing just fine settling in. She had been doing just fine. No one had counted on her past bumping into her on the streets. Rachel didn’t expect Toulouse to understand what any of this had been like. Hell, she hardly expected him to believe her at all, what with how outlandish it must have sounded. But he hadn’t ran yet, and he hadn’t freaked out, like he promised. For that Rachel was thankful. So for all it was uncomfortable, she thought it was best to continue and leave nothing up to speculation.

“I did see the lights...” she replied, watching Toulouse carefully as he shifted on the bed. For the most part, Rachel had kept herself rather close, a knee pulled up to her chest, a comforting arm around it. There was an ever present twisting of her hair. She took another pause from her story to offer Toulouse a genuine, heartfelt smile, finding some sort of comfort in his reassurance. “Thank you, Toulouse…”

Determined not to hesitate again, Rachel buried her discomfort and went on. “It gets kind of complicated after that. Or more complicated, I guess. After we saw the lights, Fl-- the man was supposed to take me home, but he didn’t. He, uh… He brought me here, to Redwood Hollow instead. He left me at the Police Station without an explanation and I thought I would never see him again.”

“I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t know I was missing. My birthday wasn’t even my real birthday. And suddenly they were asking all these questions, trying to get me to prove that I was this missing kid and before I knew it I was meeting my real parents and testifying against ‘Mother’ in court even though I barely knew what she had done wrong. Then they realised that I knew literally nothing, and I had to go on this schooling program just so I could maybe go to college one day…”

Of course, this explained a few things, but she didn’t think it explained why she had been skipping class, and at that thought the tears sprung from her eyes. “Sorry… This is definitely not what you signed up for.”

—————————————————————————————————

Four years. Four years! Toulouse couldn’t even imagine being away from home for one let alone four. Then again, Rachel hadn’t even known that the home she was living in wasn’t home. She hadn’t suspected anything at all until that day, and even then, she had no clue what was going on. Toulouse’s head was spinning as she told the story, it getting wilder and more complicated as she told it. Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she remembered it all, but he was surprised that she was willing to tell it. 

“Wait, so if you really had no idea that you weren’t with your actual mother until this man showed up, did he recognize you? You know… after he regained consciousness,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, it’s good and all that you weren’t hurt, but that part is sort of suspicious that he would just agree to take you somewhere. Especially since he broke into the house not knowing you were there.” 

It was definitely a lot to unpack. Toulouse had a hard time imagining Rachel trying to process it all back then, especially since it must have been one hell of a shock. “I mean, I signed up to listen, didn’t I?” He reassured her. After a moment, he shook his head though. “Damn… I mean, I just can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” Running a hand through his hair, Toulouse sighed, looking back at Rachel. “I’m guessing there’s more, though, right? I mean, if that was all the past, what’s been happening now?” 

Before she could even respond, Toulouse held up a hand. “Wait,” he hesitated, laying down on the bed on his side and motioning for her to do the same. “Might as well get comfortable, right? Okay, I’m ready.”

—————

All Rachel could do at the question was shrug. By all accounts, it didn’t make any sense, but it had been advised that Rachel didn’t dwell too long on Flynn’s true intentions. “I guess he must have recognised me or something,” she replied, pulling some hair away from her neck to show a small, dark mark behind her left ear. “I have a birthmark shaped like a sun behind my ear, and I look a lot like my Mom when she was a teenager. He probably heard about the reward and when he realised who I was… It was a lucky fluke.”

A nod of her head followed when Toulouse asked if there was more. They were up-to-date and now the whole reason she hadn’t been in class was looming. All that other stuff had been easy in comparison to admitting that things weren’t going so great now. 

Rachel froze with her mouth drooped open, paused before the answer could find her tongue. Her eyebrow raised as Toulouse held up his hand and he proceeded to lie down, and she almost assumed he was preparing for a nap at how boring he was finding her story. But then he went and made her laugh quietly despite her nerves and in spite of her tears. She didn’t move immediately, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, and then with a sigh she lay down on her side, propping herself on her elbow to mirror him.

“I thought I was actually doing okay until, like, a week ago…” Rachel admitted through a sniffle.

She had to think of the best way to word this part of the story. Obviously Toulouse would know who Mr Rider was, and the last thing she wanted was for any of this to taint his opinion of him. For all he had hurt her, for all she was now convinced he hadn’t cared about her at all, Rachel still thought there was good in him, and that he deserved to be treated as fairly as anyone else. With a defeated huff, she plopped down onto the bed to stare at the ceiling, half-way painted with the beginnings of a new mural.

“So, you know the man that found me? I haven’t seen him since he left me at the station four years ago. And then just before the Hootenanny I bumped into him on the street and it was like-- I don’t know, it was like nothing had happened, and obviously I was kinda surprised but I thought that was the end of it until he, like, showed up at college.” Rachel took a moment to steady herself, in between speaking a mile a minute and crying more than she wanted to. When slightly less frantic, she glanced at Toulouse out of the corner of her eye. “You know Mr Rider, the new art teacher..? That’s him. He didn’t even say anything and I’ve just been pretending we never met because I thought I would be fine, ‘cause he seemed fine. And Cass was like oh you should tell the school and get a new teacher, it’s bad for you to talk to him and I was like no, it’s fine, I’ll be fine, nothing’s gonna happen! And now… Tada! I wanted to go to school, I really did, but I just-- I couldn’t get past the driveway.”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse could see there was a look of confusion on Rachel’s face when he asked her to wait a second. For a moment he wanted to apologize and reassure her it wasn’t a bad thing, but she seemed to come around quick enough. He could tell that she was a little emotional about all of this, but didn’t comment on it as he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. She didn’t have to hide the fact that she was upset around him, but he did feel bad that this had impacted her so greatly. “So what happened a week ago then?”

Watching her carefully as she fell on the bed, Toulouse wondered what she was thinking about. He took the opportunity to follow her gaze to the start of a beautiful painting. Smiling to himself, he turned back to give her his attention, and just in time, it seemed. When he heard the name of the man Rachel had been talking about, Toulouse nearly sprung up out of the bed. But, he had promised to keep it together, thus the most he gave in response was a wide eyed stare. “No… no way. You’re serious?” Mr. Rider had seemed cool enough, Toulouse thought, though he always got along better with his female teachers. Of course, he hadn’t really put in the effort to get to know him, but now he kind of felt like he did. At least, a part of him. 

“Wait, so Mr. Rider broke into your house? And then was still allowed to teach? How does that make any sense?” That was probably the most confusing part about all of this. Toulouse was raised with the knowledge that there were people in the world who committed crimes, but those crimes had always been followed with a consequence. Then there was the conflicting opinion of Cass, who he didn’t really know, but he had to admit they had a point. Clearly it wasn’t good for her mental health to be seeing him this soon. Not out of the blue, anyway. 

“No one is going to think less of you because you missed school, Rachel. It’s okay to take that time that you need.” Rachel was still at a very vulnerable part of her life. Toulouse recognized that, and wanted to make sure she knew that it was okay. But also, he just really wanted to give her a hug. Debating it over in his head, he finally said fuck it, why not? and decided to offer one. Nudging her gently, Toulouse motioned for her to come closer, holding his arms open. “You look like you need one,” he offered, rather meekly. 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel waited for the penny to drop, for Toulouse to lose his mind over the ordeal. Continuing the absent twist of her hair, she could see out the corner of her eye the look of total disbelief written across his face. “Mmhm. Deadly serious.”

In Rachel’s head, the whole breaking-and-entering thing was a total non-issue. She had learned enough of Flynn’s history to know why he had been breaking into her house in the first place, and by the time they were off to see the lights that detail was all but forgiven and forgotten. Cass freaked out about it because she was a police officer, so of course that made sense, but at this point Rachel couldn’t see what the big deal was about a previous thief teaching an art class. (Her judgement was quite clearly skewed in the wrong direction, it seemed.)

“Everyone gets really hung up on that part…” Rachel muttered incredulously, already having logiced her away around the dissonance of being terrified of ruffians and thugs and completely sympathising with one. She was blissfully unaware that he had done jail time for his crimes too.  “I don’t know, I guess he was just going through a rough patch a few years ago? I mean, it was petty theft. It’s not like he killed anyone.”

Rachel sniffled a few more times, and though she wasn’t totally okay, she managed to pull herself together just enough to stop sobbing. “I know…” she replied quietly. “It’s just that-- I don’t know… It’s a whole mess.” She would have lay there moping for a few more minutes had it not been for the nudge from Toulouse, which took her by surprise. With his arms open, she hesitated (Rachel never asked for hugs no matter how badly she wanted or needed one). “I do kinda need one,” Rachel admitted finally, giving a thankful smile before she scooted close enough for a good old hug. “Thanks…”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse could tell that she was dismissive about it. Though he didn’t want to pick an argument by trying to explain that any crime was still a crime, he also worried about her judgement of character. Deciding that wasn’t the focus of the conversation, he let it go. Obviously the college would have looked into it, right? So it was probably fine. At least, he was going to say it was for now. “Yeah.. you’re probably right, it’s probably nothing…” Even if it was just nothing, Toulouse wanted more information. For now, getting to lay down with Rachel and just comfort her would be enough. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he hummed, giving her a comforting squeeze. Besides, a good cuddle was always the best kind of thanks, really. Of course he couldn’t say that out loud —at least not yet. Toulouse didn’t break away from the hug just yet, wanting to enjoy the moment a bit longer. “But I mean… if you really want to thank me, I’d take a look at the papers I brought you. Some of them are boring school work, but a majority are fun. I made some up, and some are just fun things to do when you get bored of just sitting at home,” he explained, letting her go from the hug with a playful smile. 

“I don’t know if there was more I need to hear about, but if you want, we can take a break,” he offered. Rachel seemed to be pretty drained emotionally, and he didn’t want to push her further. “Can I ask you a silly question, though? Had you really never seen a man before? I mean, that’s pretty crazy,” he said with a chuckle. “Most of them aren’t that exciting, though, so you didn't miss much.” 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel hoped it was nothing; she couldn't take any more curveballs at this rate. (Admittedly though, if one good thing came of this, it was that Toulouse threw a soft curveball by showing up, like a weird, cuddly saving grace.)

Just as apologising had become a force of habit, it seemed thanking people for tiny things was right up there beside it, and she had to actively think about not saying sorry for saying thank you. Her curiosity piqued at the mention of the things Toulouse has brought, pulling back just far enough to give him a flash of her raised eyebrow. She had all but forgotten he had something in his hands, you know, because she was so preoccupied with the lamp and all… "What's in the papers?" she asked, wondering if some of it was missed homework and what on earth he could have made up.

“A break would be nice. I think that’s everything…” Rachel sighed, a strange feeling of relief finally hitting her. A faint blush crept its way across Rachel’s cheeks as she nodded in admission. She wished she had been making it up, but Rachel hadn’t even laid eyes on the Postman. The house had been surrounded by a great deal of trees and high hedges, and a wall that was supposed to be unscalable. The Postman left letters in a postbox outside the garden gate, and Rachel had been forbidden from collecting any mail until the late afternoon, when he was long gone. “I wish I was kidding,” she laughed bashfully. “I mean, I’d seen men in, like, pictures in books and sometimes on TV and stuff, but never in person. I think everyone is a little bit exciting, but I don’t exactly have much to draw from.”

—————————————————————————————————

“Some missed assignments, nothing too major. Plus you have an extension to do them. I had to ask around a bit, but everything should be there,” Toulouse explained. “The ones that are made up were just in case your dad tried to take them.” Chuckling slightly, he shook his head, turning to look at her. He was glad that Rachel agreed to take a break, though he knew that sometimes when people got into slumps like this, taking a break only made them feel worse. Fortunately Toulouse was always good at making them fun. “Some of the activities are things like watching a bad movie on purpose, baking, trying a new skill, helping Toulouse with an art project, you know, just fun stuff.” 

That last activity he’d slipped in there purposely, hoping that it would peak her interest. He wanted to collaborate with her on something, if she was willing. Of course he hoped she was, otherwise he wouldn’t have put it in there, but that meant he would once again have to get past her father. Unless he came at a time the man wasn’t home; her mother seemed much more accepting of strangers into their home. 

Toulouse couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the idea of never having seen the opposite sex in person. “What about when you went to the doctor? Grocery shopping? A taxi? Surely you had to have at some point,” he further investigated. Rachel made a fair point, he supposed. There were plenty of things that each person had that might have been exciting, but as far as men go, Toulouse wasn’t very impressed. “Do you think I’m exciting?” he teased, his lips quirking into a half smile as he waited for her to answer. The feeling was mutual, if her answer was yes. Toulouse found her very exciting. Just then, the sound of the doorknob turning caught his attention as he directed his gaze toward Rachel’s door. 

—————————————————————————————————

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Rachel replied quickly, hoping that her absence hadn’t been too much of a burden on her friend. She was quite sincerely touched by the gesture and the effort, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to go out of their way for her, friend or not. “I promise my Dad isn’t that scary once you get to know him,” she insisted, though she couldn’t completely understand why Toulouse might think he would take the papers away.

“Those definitely sound like you made them up,” she laughed quietly. Fun, yes! Not real assignments? Definitely. Luckily for Toulouse, Rachel was as naive as the day was long; his not-so-subtle hints, that would have been obvious wink-wink, nudge-nudges to everyone else, went right over poor Rachel’s head and she took the bait without even realising it. “An art project?” she asked, thoroughly interested.

It occurred to Rachel that Toulouse probably didn’t realise the extent of I Never Left. She genuinely hadn’t seen another human being because she genuinely hadn’t been allowed to leave the gates of the house. “Nope. I didn’t get to go to any of those places. I… couldn’t leave.” Now, for some reason, Rachel was blushing furiously. Her only ideas as to why was being embarrassed about the not leaving thing. It obviously had nothing to do with Toulouse asking if she thought he was exciting. “I might,” she replied, trying to play it cool. She didn’t have time to offer further explanation before her bedroom door opened.

Dad’s moustache peeked around the door, the rest of his head following quickly after. He looked just as gruff as when he had answered the door, his brow pulling together when it was apparent the pair were sitting far too close for comfort on the bed. Rachel paid it no mind, and threw on her usual sunny smile (hiding the fact she had been crying moments prior).

“Your mom said I should bring you snacks…”

—————————————————————————————————

End of part one.

[oh-obrien]

Midnight (B.B.)

Pairing: Bellamy Blake (AU) X Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 5,121 (she’s a little short to start off)

Part: ONE

Author’s Note: Welcome to my first Bellamy mini series that I promised would be a college AU because i have zero (ZERO) self control!!! Buckle up for the fluff y’all! Dw some of your other The 100 favorites also make an appearance!

“Good morning, Penelope,” Penny jumped when she heard someone in the hallway, especially since that someone said her name. Other than the Resident Assistants the buildings were still supposed to be empty for another week and a half. Athletes hadn’t even moved in yet. “Oh can’t take a joke still, Penns?” Bellamy Blake approached her, his backpack slung over his right shoulder, the handle to a rolling suitcase in his left hand and a stupid smirk on his face. His stupid signature ‘Bellamy Blake’ smirk, she hated it.

Penny rolled her eyes and went back to hanging up the last few decorations on her first bulletin board of the year. She had picked a ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ theme for the first portion of the semester. The idea had come straight off Pinterest and she would not be ashamed to admit that if anyone questioned her inspiration, but she also knew that the freshmen would love the design. It tended to be a hit, especially since she had used it twice before. (‘Oh yeah I’m totally using WTTJ again, #justRAthings’, she had sent her best friend the night before while cutting out all the pieces she would need). 

She had even made safari animal themed door decorations to match. “I also still somehow got stuck in the same building as you again this year,” she walked into her open door to put her tape and left handed scissors away. “Which means I am the only girl on staff in this building this year,” she shook her head. “Because this building is co-ed this year and has a larger guy ratio and I ran into the others yesterday,” she let out a small sigh of defeat.

Bellamy leaned on the frame of her door while he watched Penny gather her belongings, “oh c’mon Penny,” he smiled, “I’m not that bad.” Penny picked up her backpack, filled with most of the small essentials she would need for the week-long retreat their university had sponsored for freshmen resident assistants. “We’ve made a pretty good team the past two years, what’s one more?” Bellamy watched Penny tuck her keys into one pocket on her backpack before she grabbed her own suitcase out of the corner of her room, tucking a metal water bottle into the other pocket on her backpack. “Besides, we can make the common room bulletin board together again!”

“You just use me for my Cricut so you don’t have to walk all the way to the office to cut shit out,” Penny pointed an accusatory finger at him. She carefully tucked one of her lacrosse sticks into her bag after seeing Bellamy had brought his along, she assumed the others would too then.

Bellamy held his hands up in defense, “on occasion it is easier to use your Cricut I won’t lie!” He laughed before reaching back to make sure his lacrosse stick hadn’t fallen out of his backpack. “But I also use you for your study buddy purposes, once again I’m not that bad!” He helped her to press the last few leaves she needed to hang up on to the bulletin board. Bellamy had opted to go for a sports theme for his hallway, but Penny always had better hall themes, freshmen guys were easier to please. When it came to themes, Bellamy didn't have to think hard. 

“You’re right Bell,” she let out a long sigh and saw the boy next to her smirk in satisfaction while he shoved his head back into his phone again. “It’s your residents you don’t know how to control that are the real problem.” 

Bellamy tripped over his own feet after hearing the statement Penny had made, “my residents are the problem?” he jogged to catch up with her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Penny just shook her head while he fell back into step with her after regaining his footing. Always graceful on the lacrosse field, never off.

“Like it wasn’t one of your residents that fell down the stairs, absolutely plastered I’ll remind you, the first weekend of the semester last year and cracked their head open?” She shook her head while they reached the campus center. Pulling open the door, she held it for Bellamy before following him in. “Or your residents who got caught with pot last year?” Bellamy held the next door open this time, “and it all happens on the weekends I happen to be on duty. How convenient.”

The pair reached the room where freshmen RA’s needed to check in and Bellamy pulled a black ballpoint pen out of his pocket, signing himself in before handing Penny the pen. “Okay,” he clicked the pen closed when Penny handed it back, “but you and I both know I can’t make them stay in every weekend, and beats me where they get the weed!” he tucked the pen back into his pocket. “I actually wanted to start this year off on a good foot you know?” He asked Penny while they sat down at one of the tables in the room. “A nice get away into the mountains, with limited cell service, no gym, no video games and like two of my teammates,” his tone dripped with sarcasm. 

“You got a job over the summer for after you graduate, a really good one, you already did start the year off right,” Penny huffed before setting her phone on the table in front of them “Congrats by the way,” she offered the sentiment.  

Bellamy’s smile grew at the mention of his job with the Central Intelligence Agency that he would officially start once he graduated in May. “Oh yeah-” he ran his fingers through his hair, “that.”

“Oh yeah that?” Penny mocked. “Bellamy, that is an amazing opportunity! You should be proud of yourself for that,” she added at the end. Penny had landed quite the internship herself the past summer, interning for the New York City District Attorney’s office, but she didn’t like to talk about it much, not enjoying having all the attention on herself. 

Luckily, working with Bellamy for the past two years, she knew he shared many of the same feelings. The mutual awkwardness had allowed the two to become comfortable talking about their accomplishments with each other. Much of the campus just knew that Bellamy would be one of the men’s lacrosse captains for the third year in a row and wrote him off as a jock, Penny had been able to get to know him a deeper level though. The two had become quite good friends their sophomore year when they were put on a RA staff together, and their friendship only continued to grow from there.

Penny also felt her small crush on the boy growing stronger over the two years they had already been on a staff together. She and Bellamy had not only worked on the same staff for two years but had also been going back and forth between being first and second in their graduating class, it would be a game of hundredths of a GPA point by the end of the year. Neither truly cared about where they ended up, but it had often come up in conversation between the two.

“Okay and getting asked to apply to Yale Law, Texas Law, Duke Law and UC Berkeley Law isn’t an accomplishment?” He smirked at Penny from across the table. “Y’know I paid attention in training last week when you were talking to Tiff right?” 

“Jerk,” Penny laughed lightly while taking a sip of her water bottle. “But yes, I had an almost perfect LSAT score, I’m dying to get into Texas hopefully.” She looked up to Bellamy. “So-”

He cut her off with a long groan, “what?” He dragged the word out in the tone of a whine.

“Jez,” Penny held her hands up, “I was just going to ask if you met any nice girls while you were out in D.C!” Penny laughed lightly when she saw his cheeks heat up a little bit, another groan falling past his lips. 

“I mean,” Bellamy shrugged, “the girl who happened to be on my workout team was nice, we talked for a while after we left,” he glared at Penny when he saw her smile grow. “If you let me finish,” he sighed, “it just wasn’t as compatible as we first thought and I’m going to die a college virgin!” He let his head fall into his hands and Penny couldn’t help the small laugh that fell past her lips.

She watched Bellamy lift his head up to watch her through the lenses of his glasses. “You say that like it’s a bad thing or something,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You also say that like you haven’t had any girls basically drool over you?”

“It-”

“Isn’t,” she shook her head and gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment. “It isn’t a bad thing Bellamy. So what? You’re a Virgin. Me too, and I’m sure a ton of other people on campus are also! That and girls talk about you all the time at lacrosse games” She waited for the boy across from her to answer.

“Wait you are?” He asked, his nose scrunched up in confusion and a slight quirk to his right eyebrow. 

Penny snorted through her nose, “uhh yeah!” She let out a long sigh. “You do realize that rumor freshman year was just a rumor right?”

Bellamy didn’t say anything, unaware the claims classmates had made about Penny had actually been a rumor. He remembered a few weeks before spring break their freshman year Penny had cooped herself up in her dorm, lacrosse practices and she only left to go to classes and grab food if she didn’t have anything she wanted in her room. She had mysteriously left campus for spring break early, even taking a few midterms early to do so, and eventually claims started circulating around that she had gotten hit with a particularly bad case of Mono, more commonly known as the kissing disease. 

Upon hearing that rumors had started floating around that she had caught it from an upperclassman she had been seen with at a few frat parties, Bellamy decided the drama would be none of his business. Penny had returned from spring break, still run down, sickly and unusually quiet. She didn’t make an effort to address any of the claims, instead choosing to fly under the radar for the remainder of the year.

“Seriously Bellamy?” She shook her head and let out a long sigh. “My doctor thinks I just caught it from someone who had it sneezing or coughing around me. I hadn’t kissed anyone since my sophomore year of high school at that point. It really sucked to hear some of the things that were said in my absence,” she just sank further into her chair.

Bellamy pulled his beanie back on before speaking, “I’m sorry Penns,” he mumbled. “I hope you know I didn’t subscribe to any of that bullshit, I just didn’t really know you then.”

“It’s fine,” she mumbled while chewing on her lip. “Just sucks it ruined my reputation. I went home originally because the doctor here refused to test me for mono because I wasn’t sexually active or involved with anyone in any way. My doctor at home wanted to test me for Mono and a few different Thyroid things as soon as she could, that was why I left early. She knew that if those came back negative it would have probably been some type of blood cancer, we didn’t want to take any risks.”

“Then why didn’t you- why didn’t you clear it up when you got back?” Bellamy wondered out loud. He hadn’t realized the seriousness of the situation and Penny had never mentioned it before, Bellamy had just assumed she left early to be sure she had the easiest recovery possible.

Penny just gave him a small smile, “because,” she shrugged. “It was fun to see how far it traveled, what people had to say about me once they thought I was fucking around with a frat president as a freshman. Jake is actually one of my older brother’s best friends from home.” She referred to the boy who everyone thought she had been with.

“At least people let it go,” Bellamy told her with honesty. He had felt quite bad when the rumors were flying around, but at the time, other than their shared introduction to management class, he didn’t have any connections to her. Once he had been put on a staff with Penny his sophomore year, he learned she was often quite fun to be around and happened to be one of the most determined and driven individuals he knew, other than himself of course.

Their sophomore year, the pair would often spend late nights together in the common room, working on their homework together. Neither really knew much about the other’s major, but they had a similar music taste and an even more similar work ethic. It had been quite easy for them to get along. Bellamy also knew both their residents quietly ‘shipped’ the pair, often asking if Penny was his girlfriend because if she happened to be, it would be ‘really cute’. It had been during finals their spring semester, sophomore year that Bellamy realized maybe he did have some feelings for his co-worker.

The night before their last finals that year they had ordered too much take out from the Chinese place in town and hunkered down in Penny’s room to do last minute studying. Penny had been complaining about her first upper level accounting class while Bellamy tried to memorize all the different ethics codes he needed to know for his final. After taking their finals and finding out they had both received ‘A’s’, they became official ‘study buddies’.

Junior year saw the pair again in the same building as resident assistants, and it again gave them a new batch of freshmen who ‘shipped’ them. There had been multiple nights where residents locked themselves out of room while one, or both, of the pair happened to be on duty and when the freshmen knocked on the door an individual who didn’t live in that room happened to answer. After Bellamy had answered the door to Penny’s room once, revealing one of her residents looking to get back into their room, he had later gone to print something and found the girl talking to one of his residents. “They’re so together!” He recalled the girl telling his resident followed by a small “oh shit,” when she realized Bellamy had heard. He decided not to tell Penny about it, or confirm or deny the statement her resident had made. Instead, Bellamy carried on like he usually did, hoping his feelings for Penny weren’t obvious to her. 

Now here the pair sat, senior year, in the same situation, neither able to share their feelings for the other yet. “My favorite seniors on staff!” Carrie, the director of resident life at the university, came up to greet Bellamy and Penny. “Your residents always give such great reviews! We just had to put you on the same staff again this year after neither of you wanted to take a higher position,” she gushed. “And Bellamy congratulations on the job!” 

Penny watched Bellamy’s cheeks start to turn red, crossing his arms across his chest and trying to sink further into his chair, “thank you, Carrie,” he mumbled. 

“Oh Bellamy you should be proud!” Carried told him with a smile on her face.

“I literally told him the exact same thing!” Penny sat up straighter and threw a playful glare at Bellamy. “The boy is a genius and refuses to acknowledge it for some reason!” Penny watched Bellamy roll his eyes before he turned to face Carrie.

“I’m excited for my last year, a little bit surreal but I’m still excited,” he picked up his phone when it buzzed on the table. Penny watched him pull his bottom lip between his lip before he started typing out an answer, his thumbs moving fast across the screen.

Penny looked up to Carrie who had shifted her attention away from Bellamy, “how’d your summer go then, Penns?” Carrie asked, opting to sit down in one of the extra chairs at the table. Bellamy still seemed very much tuned out to the conversation occurring and Penny sighed.

“Good! I loved my internship, I’m just a little bit stressed about after college,” she started picking at the polish on her nails. “I mean, I have the LSAT scores to get into law school no problem, I just wish I had it locked down already, my life just feels flimsy right now.” Penny had her life planned out since she was in middle school. She would go to an amazing undergraduate university, ace her LSAT s and then go off to law school after her senior year of college. She had also hoped to have a long-term relationship within the time period, but that clearly hadn’t worked out.  

“Well,” Carrie started, “your life is anything but flimsy. You are one of the most motivated people I’ve ever had on my staff and I know you aren’t some one who would slack off on your future plans.” Bellamy looked up from his phone when he heard Penny mention she felt unprepared for after college. He knew he had gotten lucky with the guaranteed job, but the last person he expected to be stressed about after graduation plans would be Penny. “You have nothing to worry about, honey.” Carrie stood up and gave Penny a hug before addressing both of them again. “If you two want you can get first picks on the bus for seats !” 

Bellamy saw Penny offer a small smile of thanks to Carrie before she stood up, tucking her phone into the back pocket of her jean shorts. “You ready?” She asked Bellamy who just nodded and stood up, sliding his backpack on to his shoulder and grabbing the handle to his suitcase. The pair rolled their suitcases down the empty hallways of the campus center, looking into the eerily empty conference rooms while they passed them. “It’s always so weird being here early,” Penny mumbled.

“Yeah it is quite strange,” Bellamy responded, “but I like it, especially in the mornings getting to just sit outside and relax.” Bellamy enjoyed taking time to himself most mornings, getting up early enough to make himself a cup of coffee and review any work he needed to before beginning his day. “There’s a couple squirrels I have just about eating out of my hand,” he laughed lightly. 

“The infamous squirrels,” Penny smiled, “I see them on my runs in the mornings usually.” Similar to Bellamy, most days Penny would wake up early and try to get a workout in. In the early half of the fall semester and most of the spring semester she could get a run around campus in before classes, during the colder months she would be stuck in the gym in the mornings. 

Pushing the button that would open the doors to the campus center, Bellamy hummed in acknowledgment of Penny’s comment. “Speaking of running,” he chucked, “aren’t you the senior captain this year?” Bellamy knew that Penny played on their university’s women’s lacrosse team and had gone to support her and his other friends on the team at most home games in the past, he had even gone to a few away games. 

“Yeah,” she smiled to herself, “I’m actually really excited for it too! I kinda came in not the best on the team at it, then I tore my LCL freshman year, but I’ve definitely improved tenfold. And you’re the captain of the conference champion men’s lacrosse team?” She looked at Bellamy and laughed while they walked down the walkway that would lead them to the coach bus they would be taking into the mountains.

“First off,” Bellamy dramatically sighed, “stop that, and yeah I’m captain again,” he shrugged the position off. “I’m also the Recruitment Chair for Sig Chi,” he added. Bellamy had been one of the last people Penny ever expected to be in Greek Life, but her sophomore year she had bumped into him at Zeta’s formal and her jaw had nearly hit the ground.

Penny pointed at the letters on her long sleeve and laughed, “no way you’re a Sig Chi?” She asked the question in the same voice she had that night. “In all seriousness though, I despise recruitment,” she mumbled, “I’m VP of finance for Panhell this year though, for some reason I got talked into running for the position.” 

“Hey, it’s worth it for Greek Week,” Bellamy reminded her when they reached the coach bus. The pair noticed the driver sitting in the driver's seat, a newspaper rested on the wheel and the door open. “Ready for the next week?” He smiled while tucking his suitcase under the bus.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Penny sighed while Bellamy offered to take her suitcase.

 ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Almost as soon as they had gotten on the bus, Penny had put her headphones in and opted to catch up on sleep. She wrapped a throw blanket she had bright around herself and dozed off. She did not need to be awake for a three hour drive through the absolute middle of nowhere. She got to see it every time she drove to school or home from school, she could go without seeing it again.

All too soon she felt a gentle nudge against her shoulder and slowly opened her eyes, pulling out one of her headphones in the process. Bellamy sat next to her, a sleepy smile on his face and his hair messier than usual. “We better be close if you’re waking me up, Blake.” she let out a long yawn after stretching her legs. 

“Like twenty minutes,” Bellamy shrugged while he ran a hand through his hair. “Figured you’d want a minute to actually wake up, though.” He looked rather comfortable himself, his hoodie pulled up higher than usual around his neck and a sleepy grin on his face. He seemed pretty cute even.

Penny carefully tucked her first headphone back into the case it belonged in before reaching under her blanket and pulling her phone off her lap, groaning as cold air got under the blanket. She noticed a number of notifications from the group chat she had with all of her girlfriends and unlocked her phone, turning the brightness down rather quickly afterwards. Scrolling to the top of the conversation she noticed a picture of her and Bellamy asleep in their seats; her head resting on his shoulder and his on top of her’s. It had been sent by Harper and she let out a sigh of defeat. She had forgotten Harper had also been placed into freshmen staff for the year, granted she worked in a different building, but all first year Resident Assistants had been put on the same bus. 

‘So they’re just gonna keep doing this shit?’ Harper’s message read.

‘I doN’t LikE HiM!’ A message from Raven followed.

‘Ten bucks they fuck on the trip’ Lexa.

‘I’ll double it.’ Clarke.

‘Ew that’s my brother and suite-mate you’re talking about!’ Octavia had added. 

Penny opted to scroll past the nonsensical messages before she saw a screenshot of another conversation sent. She opened it and noticed it had been sent in a group titled ‘Saturdays are for the BOIZ’, absolutely disgusting first off. It had been sent by Monty, Harper’s boyfriend and captioned ‘so they’re not dating?’ and she rolled her eyes. 

‘They’ve only been eye fucking since my freshmen year.’ John Murphy had sent the message. Murphy had been one of Bellamy’s first residents and now he served as one of his frat brothers and closest friends. 

‘Clarke said 20 they fuck this trip.’ Monty again.

‘Uhhh 40???’ Finn, Raven’s boyfriend. 

‘Why are you placing bets?’ Nathan Miller, at least someone would be on her side.

‘Oh shut up Miller!’ Murphy once again. He had always been a shit stirrer, but he had proved to be fun to party with and a very loyal friend. 

Penny closed the picture and checked she had service before typing out her response, making sure Bellamy had been paying no attention to her. ‘We’re not fucking!’ she closed the group chat, not wanting to deal with the girls at the moment, before looking to the front of the bus. Tiffany, the first year RA Coordinator had stood up and had a smile on her face. 

“As you all know!” She started, “we’re here for a week for a leadership and team building skills retreat,” a number of groans filled the bus, Bellamy’s included. “You and I both know those activities will take up only a few hours of your days, the rest is yours and if alcohol is involved I don’t want to know!”

“What’s alcohol?” Penny recognized Jasper’s voice and rolled her eyes. She knew he smoked quite a bit of weed, often with Monty, but didn’t know he had gotten the first-year resident assistant job until she had bumped into him during move in. He worked in her building on the opposite side, but would definitely add much needed excitement to their staff. His personality most likely helped him get the job, he also worked with the Orientation Team, freshmen loved him. 

Tiffany let out a long sigh before looking up at those on the bus again. “Any of you know who went on the Greek Life Leaders retreat last year are going to be familiar with this site,” Penny let out a quiet sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Those of you who did that trip also know that these cabins are pretty small…” Tiffany trailed off at the end. 

Penny had been Vice President of Zeta last year and had gone on the GLL trip with her organization’s President. The cabins they stayed in had a small kitchen, a bathroom, a tiny living area and one bedroom with a king bed. Sharing a bed with one of her closest friends hadn’t been hard, but she didn’t know who she would room with this trip. Anyone on resident life staff she felt close enough to room with would be of the opposite gender or already rooming with someone else most likely. 

“I know I’m going to regret this,” Tiffany said more to herself than anyone else, “but you can pick who you’re rooming with. It’s two to a cabin!” She had to practically yell the last part over the conversations that had already erupted on the bus. 

Penny pinched the bridge of her nose before looking around the bus, but it seemed everyone else already had a partner to room with. She caught Harper and Lexa’s gazes from the row across from her and Lexa winked. ‘Get fucked!’ Harper sent in the group chat and Penny just shook her head, putting do not disturb on.

“So,” Bellamy trailed off. “I know we both went on that retreat last year and know the whole roomies situation here.” Penny laughed at his use of the word roomies. “If you’re fine with it, I’d be down to room with you.” He shrugged after speaking. He seemed a lot more jittery than usual, Bellamy tended to be one of the most cool and collected people Penny knew.

Penny just nodded, “I’m fine with it! Big bed anyway, hopefully I won’t have to kick you out,” she flashed Bellamy a smile. The two fell back into silence afterwards and Penny took the opportunity to look at her phone again. Scrolling past the nonsensical messages she noticed one form Raven that stood out. ‘Now is probably a good time to tell you that we have a group chat called ‘Pellamy’ where we place bets on when you’ll actually get together.’ 

‘Don’t tell Bellamy!’ Clarke’s message followed.

‘He knows but doesn’t know that you know he knows that you know!’ Only a message that hard to read could come from Lexa. 

‘Absolutely Superb!’ Penny settled on before getting Lexa and Harper’s attention so she could flip them off.

“Watch the profanity!” Bellamy quickly covered her finger with his hand which sent all four of the friends into a fit of laughter. “There are children like Jasper on this bus!” He made sure to speak loud enough for the boy who sat two rows in front of them to hear what had been said.

Penny sat up straighter in her seat to see Jasper turn around and glare at Bellamy. “You only had to babysit me at one party, Blake!” He flipped Bellamy off in return. The four other friends started laughing before Tiffany told everyone to quiet down again. Starting at the top of the list alphabetically she began asking for who would be rooming with who for the duration of the trip,

“Bellamy my dear?” She gave Bellamy a sweet smile.

“Suck. Up.” Penny leaned over to whisper in his ear, resulting in Bellamy pinching her upper thigh in return. “Fuck!” She rubbed at the red spot he had left on her pale skin, he knew how easily she bruised.

Looking over to Penny quickly to confirm their earlier decision she offered him a nod, “I guess I’ll subject myself to Miss Penelope for the week,” he let out an over dramatic sigh afterwards. “I’m stuck on staff with her for a third year, what’s another week rooming with her.”

“Don’t call me Penelope!” 

Tiffany just shook her head while she wrote Penny’s name next to Bellamy’s, moving on to the next person afterwards. Penny tucked her legs underneath herself again before pulling her blanket tighter around herself, trying to keep the old air out as long as she could. “So like is this you two saying you’re a couple or?” Raven dragged the last word out while she looked across the aisle to where Penny and Bellamy had both shoved their heads back into their phones. 

“No, not this again!” Bellamy’s tired voice groaned out while Penny answered by letting her head thud into the glass window next to where she sat, a quiet ‘ow’ slipping out afterwards.

Bellamy snorted out half a laugh while Raven and Lexa high fived each other, laughing as Lexa announced she would be rooming with the other girl. “This is going to be a long as fuck week,” Penny sighed.

“Yes, yes it is Miss Penelope.”

“It’s Penny!” She smacked Bellamy’s upper arm, the sound that resulted being louder than intended.

[akp-1327]

the parallel

Pairing: Beckett Harrington x f!MC (Meghan Scott)

Word Count: 2.6k (it’s a longer fic but definitely worth the read :)

Synopsis: The Pend Pals have just finished their exhausting sophomore year at Penderghast and are in desperate need of a break.

Enjoy! :) <3

Meghan placed her hands on her hips and let out a sigh of relief. It was the chaotic night before the last day of school and she’d been packing her belongings all day, preparing to go off on the internship adventure with Professor Harrington, AKA Katrina, as she insisted on being called. Beckett begged her to let him come along with her, though Katrina said no; she wanted some one-on-one time with Meghan to get to know her as more than a student and more of a friend. Exasperation wasn’t even a strong enough word at Beckett’s reaction. Regardless of whether her boyfriend was going or not, Meghan was ecstatic to get off campus and explore the wide and unknown magickal world with her powers; her magick was practically bursting from her fingertips at the thought of exploration.

Meghan’s crystal blue eyes wandered around her lifeless room, once decked out with books, movie posters, and various knick-knacks that were now boxed and ready for the quick trip back home in the morning. It was just a mattress and a sad afghan blanket that she was borrowing from Aster. Sophomore year, as amazing and eventful as it may have been, was definitely allowed to end in Meghan’s opinion. It was enough of an adrenaline rush as it was a headache. With Kane, Alma, Gemma, her mom, her strengthening powers, Beckett...it was all just a lot. She was in desperate need of a proper break.

She was about to turn in for the night and change into her pajamas before she heard a loud knock at her door. The sound sent Ivy, her arylu, on a wild goose chase around the room to find its source. Meghan giggled before she walked over to the door (trying to tame her messy blonde waves first, of course) and cracked it open, seeing the Pend Pals on the other side.

“Hey, Megs? You need to get out of this tiny space. You’ve been cooped up in here all day.” Shreya commanded, though there was no form of malice in her tone. Meghan smiled and looked back at her room, opening the door wider so everyone could see the bare walls and the boxes piled up everywhere.

“Sorry. Cleaning tape off the wall and packing a million things isn’t exactly a quick job, especially when you do it all alone.” Meghan sighed, glaring at her twin. Atlas only smirked. “What’re you all up to?” Everyone glanced at each other, then back at Meghan.

“It’s a--” Zeph started, though Meghan interrupted him with a groan. She already knew what word, what god awful word he was about to utter.

“Surprise,” Meghan said, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms, “why can’t you guys just tell me? I’m always the victim to these kinds of things and I don’t appreciate it as much as you think I do.” Griffin let out a loud laugh and Beckett’s face was dusted in a rose tint.

“It was Beckett’s idea, actually!” Aster cheered, her leaves rustling with happiness, “He was the one who wanted to surprise us! No one else actually knows what’s happening.”

Meghan’s eyes flitted over to her boyfriend who was now fidgeting under her gaze. “Oh, is that so?” 

Beckett instantly stammered and bashfully smiled. “I thought we deserved something after this year, and so it’s more of a surprise for everyone,” Beckett explained, collecting himself a bit, “so I planned everything myself in hopes of relaxing for a little while before we all go our separate ways for the summer.” Shreya hummed and looked back at Beckett.

“You know, Beckett, I have a suspicion that this little extravaganza is being held at the library for some reason. Please tell me this isn’t just my intuition speaking.” Shreya teased, arching her eyebrow. Beckett scoffed.

“As if I’d spoil my plans after keeping them a secret for so long,” Beckett said, looking back at Meghan halfway through his response, “are you going to stand there all night or are you coming with?”

Meghan lovingly rolled her eyes at him. “Let me get my sandals.”

**

The evening air was warm as the Pend Pals followed Beckett through campus. They passed the library and dorm buildings as the sun sank further beneath the horizon. Meghan fell back into step with her sister who trailed behind everyone; Atlas wore a small frown and had her arms tightly wrapped around her chest, seemingly trying to protect herself.

“What’s up, sis?” Meghan asked, giving her a small nudge with her shoulder. Atlas sighed and gave her sister a half-hearted shrug.

“I hate surprises,” Atlas said, “we’ve had too many bad ones this year. Too many for a lifetime.” She looked down at her scuffed boots and started to kick a pebble along with her as she walked.

“You do know that Beckett would never put us in danger, right?” Meghan asked, looking back at Atlas. Her platinum white hair had been tied up in a ponytail, making it easier to spot the tension fade from her features.

“It’s a habit of mine to think the worst of surprises, Megs. You know that.” Atlas said, unfurling her arms from around her chest. “And you can’t say that. Remember last year when he almost killed the entire school with the ward incident?”

Meghan was the one to shrug. “He’s changed a lot, Atlas. Besides, Raife and Kane are long gone. We’re alright and in no sort of danger.”

Atlas nodded with a small relieved smile, bumping Meghan’s side with her elbow. “Old habits die hard.”

“And new ones create happy memories! Now, loosen up and enjoy tonight for me. Can you do that?”

Atlas rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. But I won’t do it for your pleasure.” 

Meghan laughed, watching everyone ahead of them slow down and eventually stop next to an empty field.

“Uh, Beckett, sorry to burst your bubble,” Griffin started, gesturing to the openness around them, “but there’s nothing here.” 

Zeph and Shreya laughed.

“Maybe it was at the library after all!” Zeph joked. Beckett smirked, crossing his arms.

“No, no. We still have a bit to go,” Beckett started, looking at Meghan, “but I was hoping a certain Sun-Att would care to help me?” Meghan smiled warmly and walked over to him. He gently grasped her hands and threaded their fingers together.

“You two are adorable and I love you both, but I’m on the edge of my seat over here. Save the cutesy stuff for when we get there, please!” Shreya laughed. Everyone nodded in agreement as Beckett sighed, shaking his head with a smile. He gazed into Meghan’s eyes with pure adoration and love that Meghan had started to lose herself in the moment, only before he blinked and snapped her out of her reverie.

“I need you to light the way for me, okay?” Beckett said, squeezing Meghan’s hands. She nodded and, a moment later, was emitting a soft and golden glow that lit up the area around them. “That’s perfect. Now, stay close to me.”

Meghan tightened her hold on one of his hands and let the other one go, now standing at his side. “How about I hold your hand?” Beckett beamed and hummed, pulling her close before he started to walk again. The path ahead was a little more narrow and wooded. Aster giggled as she looked around.

“These woods were the ones I used to play in when I was growing up,” Aster said, brushing her hand along the dark brush, “I’d love to branch here. There’s so much character and uniqueness about the area, so much to learn about.” Everyone continued to walk in the soft light, trying not to trip or get whacked in the head by branches.

“Big B, was this treacherous path really, ow, necessary?” Zeph complained, a branch hitting his forehead. Atlas, Shreya, and Griffin laughed quietly to themselves. 

Beckett was about to respond before strikingly bright blue sparks burst on the ground in front of them, slowly forming into a circle. Instead of dirt, the inside had been a blur of purples, pinks, yellows, and greens. Beckett laughed and turned back to his friends.

“To answer your question, Zephyr, this path was the only one that we could take to find this magnificent portal.” Beckett said wondrously, pointing at the portal on the ground behind him. “Because of the rock formations beneath--”

“Oh, shut up already!” Zeph rushed forward and cannon balled into the portal. “Waahoo!”

Griffin and Shreya laughed, running in after him.

“Incoming!” Griffin exclaimed.

“Aaah!” Shreya howled.

Aster and Atlas looked at each other for a second before they jumped in as well, a bit more hesitant. 

In mere seconds, it had only been Beckett and Meghan, their hands tightly intertwined as she continued to glow.

“This is what we were looking for? Coooool!” Meghan laughed teasingly, moving closer to see his face of shock. “Beck?” He blinked rapidly.

“What...did...did that just happen?” Beckett asked, a smile starting to encase his features. Meghan giggled and kissed his cheek.

“It did,” Meghan said, wrapping him in a hug, “and I think we should join them!” She pushed off the ground and made them both stagger on their feet. Before he could react, Beckett was tumbling into the portal and free falling into the depths of it, Meghan wearing an expression of amazement in his arms.

“Whoa!” Meghan shouted, clinging to Beckett as wind whipped through her hair. Beckett’s body started to relax from the shock, now starting to laugh and holding Meghan closer.

“Wooo!” Beckett shouted. The colors whizzed together and created a mural of bold and interesting patterns around them. It was as if they were inside an abstract painting! Though, before they could comprehend the moment once more, their descent slowed and they landed on their feet in a world parallel to theirs. Everything seemed the same, everyone looked the exact same as they did before, but the colors of the terrain...the colors…

The land, the trees, the leaves, the bushes, the ground...it was all glowing!

The world of bright light came to life around them. The rest of the Pend Pals eagerly crowded around Beckett and Meghan, still catching their breaths.

“Where are we?” Shreya huffed, putting her hands on her knees. Beckett looked around, gaping.

“This is the Parallel. It’s the universe that’s ours, but,” Beckett started, gesturing to the area around them slowly, “the colors are all fluorescent and the Earth’s gravitational pull is less strong.”

Griffin gasped. “I didn't think the Parallel actually existed!”

Beckett shook his head, still looking around with bewildered eyes. “Neither did I.”

“Wait, so if the gravitational pull is less strong…” Meghan pulled away from Beckett and jumped, her body starting to float before slowly coming back down. “No way! This is amazing!” She jumped with more vigor this time, launching herself higher into the air. The laughs of her friends rang out behind her as they experimented with their weightlessness as well. Zeph and Shreya did flips, Atlas and Griffin did corkscrews, and Aster spun. Beckett, still quite uneasy, tried to do a somersault but to no avail. Meghan laughed and made her way over to him.

“Hey, need some help?” Meghan giggled, taking one of Beckett’s hands. He gingerly smiled before she launched them both high into the air, their bodies spinning through the vivid world around them.

“Jeez, a little warning would be nice!” Beckett exclaimed, though his tone lacked any sort of malice. He had an excited smile on his face as Meghan led him through a flip, then another, and then another. They laughed as they landed, the ground finally halting them of their seemingly endless cycle of flips.

“That looked like so much fun!” Aster cheered, launching herself to do the same exact thing. Eventually everyone had been laughing and tumbling through the air.

“Griffin! I bet I can jump higher than you!” Atlas challenged. Griffin narrowed his eyes and the two were high in the air, flipping and laughing, pushing each other away when they came close.

“Shreya--” Zeph warned, though Shreya still crept up on him until she grabbed his hand and threw him across the forest in slow motion, sending him sprawling. “Aaaaah! Meghan, get revenge!”

Meghan narrowed her eyes towards Shreya and then looked to Aster and Beckett for reinforcements. With a huge grin, they all leapt at Shreya and sent her the other way, also tumbling through the neon landscape. “No!”

“Yes! Justice for Zeph!” Meghan giggled, doing a victorious flip and high fiving Beckett and Aster. 

**

Everyone continued to play around before they started to wind down and tucker themselves out. They were now laying on the ground and looking up at the starless sky. 

Beckett swiped Meghan’s hand into his and placed a kiss on the back, inviting her into his arms.

“Did you have fun?” Beckett whispered into her ear. She sighed and cuddled into his embrace, her gaze wandering to her friends pointing up at the sky a little ways away from them. She smiled and leaned up to look at Beckett.

“I had an amazing time, Beckett,” Meghan started, leaning closer to him, “but something’s missing.”

Beckett arched an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Meghan leaned even further, her lips now hovering over his. “I’m missing a kiss, silly!”

Beckett grinned and brought his hand up to cup her cheek, “Say no more, then,” and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Meghan closed her eyes and smiled against his lips as they kissed, pulling away breathlessly only a moment later to rest her forehead against his.

“Now everything’s beyond perfect,” Meghan whispered, though even more quietly added, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetums.” Beckett responded, pressing a kiss to her nose. Someone’s cough, presumably Atlas’s, scared the two apart.

“A-hem. Lovebirds.” Atlas teased, causing both Beckett and Meghan to roll their eyes. “It’s almost one in the morning.” 

The group synchronized a yawn, Meghan’s head resting on Beckett’s chest once more as she settled back down next to him. Despite the implication of needing to leave, no one moved nor spoke. They all just basked in the peace and quiet of the different world for a few minutes, everyone’s breathing slow and calm. Suddenly, Meghan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sitting up.

“Atlas and I have to leave in a few hours,” Meghan said sadly, “we should probably get our butts back to campus. Beckett, how do we get out of here?”

Beckett sighed and stood. “Back the way we came. Follow me.”

**

The Pend Pals trudged exhaustively back through the woods and towards campus on the long path. Everyone was leaning on each other for support, everyone’s eyes drooping, and everyone’s smiles never fading. Once they were standing in the middle of campus, they all gave each other hugs and goodbyes.

“We need to go back there next year.” Griffin said, running his hands down his face. Atlas pushed his arm teasingly.

“You just want a rematch at that race. What a sore loser you are, Langley.” Atlas said. Everyone laughed as a comfortable silence fell over the group. Meghan giggled and spoke up.

“Well, I’m going to bed. See you all at breakfast tomorrow?” Meghan asked, looking around at everyone’s nods and attempts to hold back yawns.

“Good night, everyone!” Aster said, walking away. Griffin waved with a warm smile and Zeph saluted. Shreya gave them a dazzling grin and walked off towards her dorm. Beckett took Meghan’s hands in his, staring into her eyes.

“See you in the morning,” Beckett said, pressing a kiss to Meghan’s forehead, “sleep well.” Before she could respond, Meghan watched Beckett walk away towards his dorm. Atlas sidled up next to her and wrapped her arm around Meghan’s shoulders.

“C’mon, Megs. We need get some sleep before we work our butts off tomorrow.” Atlas said, leading her towards their dorm. Meghan wrapped her arm around Atlas in return.

“Happily, sis.” Was all Meghan could say before they returned to the bare room and turned in for the night.

[3starsquinn]

Lessons Learned || Orion & Rebecca

(Backdate to 3/28/2020)

Location: Abandoned Scribe Headquarters

Summary: Rebecca comes to the Scribe headquarters looking for some information on spirits; Rio uwu’s over another Professor that he can grow attached to.

Time was running out. And Rebecca’s desperation had brought her to a place she thought she’d never stoop to. The Scribe headquarters. Though long abandoned, it still stood, hid behind lock and key, like the cooped up knowledge keepers they were. Pretending they were the master’s of the supernatural world, hoarding information behind steely eyes and pretentious attitudes. She’d never really gotten along with them, but after they’d throw her under the bus for their own, she’d found that loath rising up every time she thought about it. Though it would have been easy to blame them for what happened to Theo, she could never bring herself to fully do that. She knew Theo’s death was her own fault, but the sting of it was still there, as she pushed the doors open and found her way in, surprised they were unlocked. Then again, the place was hidden by magic. Rebecca was just lucky that it was still in the same place, from the last time she’d tracked the headquarters down with some help from a local ex-Scribe.

The inside of the place was just as she’d remembered it, as if it hadn’t aged a day in three years, or however long she’d been gone. Keeping track of time was still difficult. She had to often use Theo’s headstone as reference for how long ago things happened. Ignoring the thought, she went about her way, finding the section they’d been to ages ago on demons, ghosts, and ancient rituals. And got to work. She hardly noticed someone approaching her, she was so hyper focused on her work, jotting down notes left and right and stacking piles of books around her.

Orion had mostly gotten over his panic attacks from people intruding in his safe space. He had his fair share of people inside of the Scribe headquarters at this point. He returned to the abandoned building from the store, an optimistic attempt at purchasing some lights and candles to make the place a bit more visible considering the lack of electricity and never-ending darkness that seemed to have befallen the town. It hadn’t made doing his job, or rather his hobby easy. But he planned on persisting. He swung the door open and made his way down the hallway, grocery bags in hand. He didn’t notice the noise until he got closer to the library. He could hear someone rummaging through books on the shelves. At this point, he didn’t think much of it outside of the initial jump in his heart rate. It could have been one of a few people that Orion had already met here. Professor Drake, Professor Beck or even Winston. All three knew about the vast library and all had expressed interest in returning. So he casually made his way into the library, bags in one hand and flashlight in the other, a dim flash illuminating a small portion of the path in front of him. But much to his surprise, when he finally found the culprit inside the library it wasn’t anybody that he knew of. “Uh. Hi.” He squeaked, his mouth immediately dry. He definitely hadn’t been expecting to see a new person in here, though maybe he should by now. Though the face wasn’t completely unfamiliar, as the woman turned to face Orion he recognized her from the campus. Probably a professor that Orion hadn’t met. “You’re uh- I didn’t expect anyone to be here.” He was not suddenly very self-conscious of the boxes of snacks, pillows and his laptop that laid on one of the tables around the corner. Had she seen it when she came in? “What are you doing here?”

Rebecca, so engrossed in her work, didn’t even register the tiny light coming her way. Or the initial squeaked hello. It was only when the boy moved closer, his light reflecting off one of her books, did she look up, startled. “Oh, I’m--” squinted through the light at him. “I’m sorry. I thought this place was abandoned. The--” she glanced around, then looked back at him, closing her notebook. Whoever he was, he definitely didn’t need to be involved with her mess. “I apologize. I came here a few years back for information and thought I’d see myself in. I’m looking for some more books on certain...topics. I’m Rebecca Rothbard,” she said, finally standing and holding out her hand. The boy couldn’t be any older than 21. “And who are you?”

Well the woman didn’t seem like she intended to hurt or kill Orion, which made him a bit more comfortable, though he still had no idea why she was here. Clearly she was looking for some kind of information. Mostly likely supernatural considering she mentioned that she had been here before. Anyone who knew anything about the Scribes knew they were more than just historical record keepers. “Well it was abandoned. I mean it is abandoned. Besides me right now. Well, and you. What are you looking for?” He definitely remembered her from the college campus. “I’m Orion. Or Rio. Whichever. You work at the college, right? I feel like I’ve seen you on the campus. I uh- I’m a college student.”

“Oh!” Rebecca said, straightening out. She gave her best ‘new student looks too anxious, time to calm them down’ smile and nodded. “I do! I just started about a month ago. I’m the new Anthropology professor. It’s lovely to meet you, Orion. Named after the hunter or the stars?” She asked, looking at him, before glancing back at her stack of books. “It’s related to a more personal matter. I was shown the place by an old ex-Scribe a few years ago. I figured all this knowledge was going to waste just being so...hidden out here. I didn’t think anyone would mind.” Besides, the Scribes owed her. She closed the book to show Orion the title. “I’m an exorcist. Just doing my thorough research before getting in too deep. What is that you’re doing out here? And in all this nighttime mess? It’s dangerous to be out alone.”

So she was a Professor. And of Anthropology too, a subject near and dear to Orion’s own passion. Anthropology may have had more focus on people and how they lived, but it had its roots in history. Which meant at some point, Orion may end up in one of the Professor’s classes. It also meant that all the Professors at that college apparently knew about the supernatural. Orion supposed that he couldn’t be surprised. “Nice to meet you too, Professor…?” He realized that he hadn’t gotten her name. “I uh- both actually. But my parents definitely had the hunter in mind when they named me. My sister’s name is Athena. So a lot of Greek influence.” An ex-scribe showed her this place a few years ago? That meant that there had been at least one person that still knew of the building’s existence in town. Assuming that scribe was still alive, Orion wondered why they had never shown up again. Instead leaving the legacy to a whiny twenty year old. “Yeah, uh. Well it is abandoned, but not completely going to waste. I kind of.. watch over the place. Unofficially.” He shined his light at the book title that the Professor was showing off. “An exorcist?” Orion asked, immediately excited. He had never met a real exorcist before. “That is way cool. Uh.. I wish I was anything that exciting. I’m just a college kid. Who comes here to read sometimes.” Not the whole truth, but he wasn’t lying either which seemed to be Orion’s modus operandi these days.

“Oh,” Rebecca said, giving a little wave, “forgive my manners. Rothbard. Rebecca Rothbard.” She held out her hand for him to shake, scooting some books out of the way so that he could take a seat at the table with her if he wanted to. She settled back into her own chair and shuffled some more stuff around, tidying up her mess of papers and notes. “Well, they’re both good names. Strong names. Greek history always fascinated me, much more than other Western European history.” She looked over to him, motioning for him to sit. He seemed nervous almost, or perhaps she had just startled him. This place was supposed to be abandoned. “It’s quite noble of you to decide to look over this place, even unofficially. The old Scribes sure did seem to leave this place in a hurry, huh? It makes you wonder what really happened to them all…” not that she entirely cared, but this kid already seemed leagues better than any Scribe she’d met. Most of them would have either immediately shooed her out or accused her of trespassing on knowledge. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the thought. “Oh, please, people don’t find shelving books exciting anymore? What has the world come to?” she half teased, giving a little grin. “So...how did you find this place? Because I doubt anyone who’s ‘just a college kid’ stumbled here on accident, hmm?”

“Really nice to meet you Professor Rothbard!” Orion shook the professor’s hand eagerly. “I really like anthropology. So uh, I will probably end up in one of your classes eventually. At least I hope so.” He grabbed a seat at one of the tables as the professor motioned and glanced at the stack of books and papers she had amassed. Did Orion need to say something? If she tried leaving with the books did he need to check them out, like some librarian? Professor Beck had taken a book when she came, but with the agreement that she would bring it back when she was done. Was that what Orion should be doing here? He had never considered the idea of people coming here to try to find books. “Same! I mean I love learning about any piece of history I can, but Greek mythology just has so much depth about it. And there’s so much we know about it to spread around, unlike some other civilizations that didn’t leave as much behind.” The Professor knew about the scribes and claimed to be an exorcist, and within the confines an abandoned building focused on the supernatural she didn’t seem to have much reason to lie. “There are uh- theories on what happened. I don’t know what exactly happened to this chapter though.” If they had, would journals have been left here to detail it? Or would the Scribe have taken it with them? “Guess not so much… It’s uh- just me.” Orion laughed nervously, moving back and forth on the chair that he was sitting in. He couldn’t seem to sit still. “My uncle was a Scribe,” Orion began explaining, happy to have something to focus in on, “He showed me this place when I was a kid. Before he left town. A few months ago I decided to come back and check the place out, see if any other Scribes had been here. Then I kept coming back I guess.” He trailed off, unsure where he was planning on taking that story. He didn’t like talking about his uncle much anyways. “What brings you here? Is there a specific.. uh demon that you’re searching for? Or something else?”

“I’ll look forward to having you in my class, then,” Rebecca said with a grin. She watched the boy sit, toddering back and forth in his seat anxiously. She could practically feel like waves of anxiety coming off of him. She hoped it wasn’t because of her. He almost reminded her of Blanche, just without the sass and the sarcasm. “It’s true. We’re lucky we have as much as we do on them. Though, if I’m being honest, my favorite ancient civilization is Sumerian. I’m a little biased, though.” Another soft grin, hoping to ease his worries. “Your uncle was a Scribe? Is he still around?” She leaned back in the chair, watching him closely. Maybe the questions about his uncle had been too much, but his voice trailed and his eyes sunk down to the table, a classic sign of discomfort. “Either way, I’m glad someone saw fit to come and take care of this place. All these books, all this knowledge, it shouldn’t go to waste. You’re doing a noble thing, Orion.” She let out a small breath, eyes suddenly more weary, as she looked down at her pile of notes. She was tired of lying, of keeping people at the edges of her boundaries, her life, but something like this was too dangerous for a simple kid. “I’m just looking up all the references I can for magical binding items to help with a particularly tough ghost. Sometimes exorcisms aren’t strong enough and binding rituals are needed to help...assuage the problem.”

“Ooh that’s a great choice! Sumerian culture has some of the oldest surviving works pieces of written history. Obviously, the Epic of Gilgamesh came from it, which is one of the coolest pieces of literature ever. I mean it was found on the original clay tablets in cuneiform. How freaking cool is that?” Orion laughed incredulously, wondering what it would be like to find some piece of history like that. How the people that discovered it must have felt. Though he supposed he sat on his own little chunk of history now within this very building. He coughed, trying to regain his composure and straightened back up in his chair. “Sorry- I get a little excited. Uh- what makes you biased about that… If I can ask?” Understandably, she was curious about Orion’s uncle, the former scribe. He didn’t blame her, but he didn’t care much for talking about it. “He’s alive. But he doesn’t live in White Crest. He moved away like six or seven years ago.” Short and sweet. Luckily she seemed willing to move on just as quickly, which Orion welcomed. Even if it was to compliment him, something he definitely didn’t know how to take. “Oh uh- well thank you. It’s- Well I’m not really doing much. Besides reading.” He listened carefully as she explained what she had been looking for. He didn’t know much about exorcisms- his family didn’t really deal in the incorporeal business. They were strictly Fae and fangs. Which made learning about Professor Rothbard’s job even more intriguing. “Interesting. That sounds like it can get… dangerous. Do you usually do exorcisms alone or do others sit in with you? Do exorcisms have to be done by like a religious figure like in myths. Are you a religious figure?” He crossed his arms and asked the questions curiously, unsure if the professor would be willing to share the details.

“It’s very cool,” Rebecca said back, liking the way he smiled when he talked about history. She always wanted to encourage people to pursue things that made them happy like that. She gave a shrug. “I’m partial to any ancient civilization that helped with the creation of Israel, being Jewish myself. Though we come from ancient Egypt more so, you’ll excuse me for not enjoying the civilization that enslaved my ancestors.” She gave a short, dour chuckle before moving on. “I see. That checks out with when many of them began...scrambling away.” It was also around the time she’d first been asked to help exorcise the possessed boy. A memory she wished didn’t have to be so solid in her mind. When we first met. Rebecca stiffened but didn’t react. Her eyes went from Orion, to the table, back up again. She steeled herself. “Consuming knowledge is noble in itself, looking after it? Is definitely true. Don’t cut yourself short, Orion. We don’t have history because wars were fought, we have history because stories were told, right?” She could sense his uneasiness with the compliment, but she wasn’t about to not let him take it. “It can, but if you’re prepared and smart, it takes a lot of the risk away. Hence,” she reached out to pat the books next to her. “I myself am a religious person, but one doesn’t necessarily have to be religious, no. Power in exorcism comes from intent and from the strength of one's conviction. It’s about speaking words of power. The more meaning those words have to a person, the stronger they will be.”

Of course, Professor Rothgard was right. It was hard to be interested in a civilization directly responsible for the oppression of your own people. “Right. Yeah, of course. Sorry. That makes sense.” The professor had chuckled, implying that it was meant as a joke but Orion understood if she was being honest. Orion had a heritage that he wasn’t exactly proud of. He certainly wouldn’t enjoy hearing others telling the story of noble hunters, killing monsters. “Yeah. Definitely. I uh- thank you. I just like giving others the ability to learn if they want. It’s the quickest cure for ignorance.” That was more directed to his family, his kind than anything else. But he believed it to be true as well. “We have history because stories were told” Orion repeated, mostly to himself. “I really like that.” He brightened up just thinking about it. It was one of the more positive takes on learning about history. Strength of one’s conviction? Well, clearly Orion was never going to become an exorcist. He could barely order take out without his voice shaking. “Sounds really.. heroic. And cool. Uh- I’m way more comfortable behind a book. Not really an in the action kinda guy. But- anything I can help you search for?” It would be hard, hunting down specific things in this darkness, but Professor Rothgard seemed to have found some of the things she had been looking for.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Rebecca waved the apology off, “I was mostly being facetious.” A gentler smile, as she watched him a little more closely. Uncomfortable in his skin, but not when he talked about history. He had a true passion for the subject, it seemed. “Well, that’s another thing we have in common, then. Hence why I became a professor. Helping blossom someone’s want to learn and pursue their passion is one of the greatest feelings in the world.” Her smile grew as he repeated her words. “Well, feel free to use it anytime, it can be our phrase now.” She leaned in a little closer, as if she were going to whisper something to him, “don’t tell anyone I read it in a fortune cookie, though. It’ll make you sound smarter.” And winked before leaning away again. “Heroic isn’t...quite the word, I suppose. Others might disagree with you, as well. But it’s what I like doing and what I’m good at, and if my skills can help the world, then all the better.” She ran her hands over the books she had piled up next to her. She was hesitant to involve him, but turning him away might do more harm later. She held one of the books out to him. “I’m looking for any information on sealing magic and Dybbuks. A second set of eyes might catch something I’ve missed, if you’re up for it?”

It was nice, hearing that Orion and the Professor shared something in common. Of course, he had known that already, without anything being said. But coming from her, it felt especially nice. He enjoyed meeting others with similar interests as his own.  Especially considering how his family was always eager to remind Orion just how useless the degree was. He had decided long ago to not put much thought into what they said or did to him, but he still had to live with them. “I imagine that it is- it uh, must be nice to be able to inspire someone like that. I know it’s nice to have someone to look up to like that.” He giggled at the woman when she admitted that she got the phrase from a fortune cookie and intentionally brought his voice down to a whisper, “Your secret is safe with me.” So some people didn’t agree with exorcisms? He supposed on some level that it was similar to Orion not agreeing with his family’s legacy. Though ghosts and demons were obviously different from real, tangible people. “Really? People don’t agree with exorcisms? Like people that don’t think that it’s real or people that don’t think that ghosts should be like... exorcised?” He was genuinely curious, a profession that he hadn’t had much research into. It was fascinating. Then the Professor was holding a book out to him and asking him about looking over her research. “Dybbuk? I’m familiar with the name” He wracked his brain for the information, “It comes from Jewish mythology. Some kind of spirit that can possess things. Its Hebrew for ‘cling to”. That didn’t help much with deal with a real life one. He couldn’t know how a real life one compared to what must have been a centuries old myth. “I’d love to help out however I can.” He grabbed onto the book and flipped it onto it’s first page, ready to skim.

Rebecca was glad that her words seemed to bring him some sense of ease or peace. If it was validation he was looking for, she was all too eager to give it. People with passion like him deserved to be validated. “It is,” she answered truthfully, “and I’m sure if you wanted to, one day you could do that as well. It just takes understanding and compassion, after all. Anyone who wants to could easily do it.” She nodded back at him. “Good. You seem trustworthy.” His questions were to be expected. Most people didn’t really know anything about the truths of exorcisms and what it meant to be an exorcist. But she was all the more happy to answer questions because of that, especially when it was from an inquisitive mind and not a skeptical one. She thought, for a moment, back to Javier, and if his inquisitive mind could be swayed as well. “Not everyone agrees with it, no. It’s dangerous and some people-- and some spirits-- become attached to being...around. And while not all ghosts are problems, most of them will become one, eventually. It is an inevitability, of the ether calling back what it gave so willingly. Souls need to be reborn, recycled, and renewed. Sticking around past that due date has consequences.” These, of course, were just her beliefs. But she held them thoroughly and hadn’t changed her mind on that since she’d first heard Rabbi Emmaneul speak them. “Correct. I’m a little surprised, they’re not a well known spirit. Very few of them, but they’re powerful--” and extremely dangerous, “--and not to be trifled with. But, if you’re up for some research, I’d love the help. I’ll can buy you dinner when we’re done, or maybe some flood lights for this place,” she smiled.

Orion had already decided that he liked Professor Rothgard. Between the shared passion for knowledge and their aligning hobbies, it seemed obvious that the two would get along. Though personality was a big factor too. Athena loved learning too, but Rio wouldn’t soon consider the twins to be close like they once were. But Rebecca seemed to be doing her best to help others, just like Orion wanted to. “I do! Someday. In some way.” Maybe his legacy wasn’t to rebuild the Scribes, but he could still find a way to make a difference, no matter how small. “Interesting…” Rio thought on her words, taking it all in and considering all sides. He supposed those that died before they were ready would want to stick around. Though he wasn’t sure how much fun being a ghost would be. But that was an interesting bit of information- ghosts became a problem eventually? What did that mean? “What do you mean when you say that they mostly become problems eventually?” He knew that Blanche saw ghosts. He wondered to what extent. Were ghosts visible to those they were close to? Or could only certain people, people like Blanche, see them? “Can all exorcists see ghosts? Or like- Do you also have to have the ability? Or is there some kind of spell or something that you can take to see them?” There were so many questions that were unanswered, and Orion was not a fan of feeling like he was in the dark. Knowledge was the only thing that kept his anxiety at bay most days. “Well-uh I know more about them from history than I do the actual spirit” He shrugged. Her certainly didn’t know much about them outside of the name. “Of course. Count me in. But uh- you don’t have to buy me anything. I’m happy to help.”

“Curious one, aren’t you?” Rebecca said, the words rhetorical. She closed the book she’d opened and leaned against the table, chin in her palm, as if contemplating. “Well...the thing is, when a spirit comes back, their soul needs to be attached to something in order to stay on this plane. And over time, most spirits learn how to interact with the world, even if it’s just in small ways. Like, some ghosts can move things with their energy, the typical chair out from under you type ability. Some can control electronics, or fire, or even wind. But...that ability comes with a price. Being torn between two planes would be hard on anyone, let alone someone who’s died and can only mourn what they once had. That power turns into anger and that anger turns them into...poltergeists. Spirits that only want to cause pain. They, for lack of a better term, go insane. They can’t often control themselves anymore. It’s a tragedy, if I’m being honest. And no ghost is immune, no matter what they say. If they don’t move on, that’s their fate.” She sighed. The thoughts saddened her. Souls were supposed to move on, not ligner, not mourn. “Most exorcists are born mediums, yes, but not all exorcists are mediums. Just like not all mediums are exorcists. It certainly makes the job easier, to be able to see them, but it’s not necessary. There’s no spell, really, but there are things one can take to help see them. Prolonged use, as with most drugs, can cause problems, though.” She flipped open the book again, running her hand down the page until she found the spot she was looking for. “It’s a drug called Vizion. You’d be hard pressed to find it at CVS, though.” She opened a different. “Well, history and current lore kind of go hand in hand, don’t they? We only know about things and how to properly defend ourselves because of the history that was recorded about them, right? Fine, no dinner. But at least a thank you donut at some point. Kids like donuts, right?”

Orion shrugged, “Guilty” He chuckled at the fairly common remark. Curiosity. An eagerness to learn. Those were two of Orion’s defining traits. It may have been the only thing that Orion excelled in. The only thing that he could beat his sister in. Studying, learning. It hadn’t done him much good apparently. It was sad, listening to the professor explain the fate that all ghosts were destined for. It made Orion wonder just how many ghosts he must have passed on a daily basis. On top of that, how many were poltergeists? Or on the brink of becoming one? The thought was terrifying. White Crest more than any town must have an astronomical number of ghosts, just based on number of deaths alone. Not to mention the number of deaths from unexplained or mysterious circumstances. “Fascinating stuff. I mean it’s terrifying and terribly sad but… it’s crazy that there is a whole world like that just beneath our noses - maybe literally - and nobody knows it.” He tapped a finger against his cheek, pondering this information, “I mean obviously the whole supernatural community is like that… but like at the end of the day even if someone doesn’t believe in the supernatural they can still see someone turning into a werewolf or something. This is completely invisible unless you’re born with some gift or you take drugs. I’m guessing you happen to be a medium then?” One more question, then he would focus on his studies. Vizion. He would have to look further into that. Not because he wanted to take it himself, but because he was simply curious what it was for besides ghost watching. Orion shook the thought from his head, opting to focus on the task at hand and dive into the book. “I’m not a kid” Orion muttered half heartedly as he flipped a page, “I’m twenty.” He didn’t put much stock into it anymore. He was too used to people calling him a child. After a long moment and another page turned, Orion finally admitted “But I do like donuts.”

“Terrifying is one word for it, I suppose,” Rebecca said, sighing a little. “But it’s also quite amazing, don’t you think? The world is just full of terrifyingly amazing things. Truly wondrous things. Fear is not meant to stop us, but drive us.” She paused at his explanation, his question. That was just it, wasn’t it? People could see someone turn into a werewolf or other, but denial was a strong antidote to the truth. “True. Some ghosts can become visible, however, and there are exorcisms that make them visible, as well.” She rubbed the side of her jaw a moment in thought, before answering, “I’m not, no. A medium. I can feel and hear ghosts, but not see them.” Usually. Lately, that had been changing. At the edges of sleep, out of the corner of her eye-- sometimes, a ghost. She’d convinced herself she was seeing things, but she couldn't be sure anymore. “I trained myself to be able to do it. It took several long years of dedication, but it seems to have paid off, no?” She smiled again. He seemed upset by her words. She often forgot people associated child and kid with immaturity and disrespect. But that wasn’t what it meant to her. Childlike youth and inquisitive minds were something to behold, to respect. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Being young is a gift. Besides,” she said, giving a little bitter chuckle, “by the time you’re my age, you’ll think twenty-year olds are children, too.”

“I do think you’re right,” Orion agreed, mostly. He basically thought that the professor was right, but it was hard for him to latch onto the words himself. Probably because he was scared of literally everything. “I just- well I’m afraid of a lot of things so it’s easier said than done I guess? I prefer to face my fear from the safety of a textbook.” He laughed, trying to dispell the mood. He didn’t want to disappoint her by disagreeing with her philosophy. He didn’t disagree with her philosophy. He just found it hard to follow himself. Orion couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to follow a career path that she inherently had a disadvantage in. The dedication and force of will it must have taken her to train herself to be at the point that she was… that was impressive. “Wow. That’s cool.” He finally managed to mutter, staring at the professor with a bit of awe apparent in his voice and eyes. Could he ever be someone like her? Probably not. That was reserved for people like Athena. She could be so impressive if she wasn’t so evil and conniving. “Right, right of course. Sorry. I just- people tend to tell me that to downplay me or make fun of my size or… I don’t know. It’s just a reflex. My bad.” He smiled again, then buried his face into the books, determined to find something. Anything that might help.

“Well, knowledge is the first weapon to fighting fear, isn’t it?” Rebecca proposed with a soft smile. She understood fear well. She’d seen it and felt it enough. Knew the emotion intricately. But she couldn’t let it stop her. Not anymore. “It’s alright to be afraid. Fear is healthy. But, like with all things, in modicum.” She gave a short sigh, flipping listlessly through the book she’d poured through a thousand times. And as with each time before, there was little to nothing about anything that could help her problem. “Thank you. Talent is overrated, in my books,” she said off-handedly, “it’s hard work that creates the real geniuses.” She looked up from her book, over at him. He did have a bit of a smaller frame for a twenty-year old boy, but it had never mattered to Rebecca. She wasn’t exactly big or strong or athletic. “Well, next time, you can tell them that youth and being a child comes with its own kind of wisdom,” she started out, a little smirk growing on her face, “like being able to see through adults’ bullshit.”

Despite his own concerns, Orion was pleasantly surprised that the professor seemed to choose validating him over chastising or judging. It was a pleasant change to what he was used to. Her suggestions came across as exactly that, suggestions. Mottos to live by, not instructions or demands that must be followed like so many other adults wanted from him. Okay, he knew exactly who he was talking about specifically. Family. He laughed at Rebecca’s comment, “I’ll make sure to add that to my list of comebacks for next time, thanks.” It could be queued below silence, and above awkwardly laughing and leaving.

He dug further into the book in exorcisms. Flipping through pages as he tried to find anything that stuck out to him. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he finally spotted the name. “Woah.” He said aloud, perking up from his slumped position on the chair and staring at the name again. Jacob Goldman. In this book, the author mentions him as the closest thing the Scribe’s had to an expert on exorcisms in White Crest. But Rio knew that name. He jumped up from the chair and darted off down an aisle, cutting corners until he finally got to the section on White Crest. He remembered seeing that name before, somewhere in this section. He ran his hands along spines as he searched through the books until he finally spotted the one that he was looking for and ran it back over to the table. “So, Jacob Goldman was a Scribe here. He kept a journal of everything that he documented and did while he was alive. He eventually died.” Orion swallowed hard. It probably wasn’t necessary to mention that by all accounts that he could find, the man died while searching for a demon to exorcise. Orion flipped towards the back of the book, scanning through books until he finally found something. “Right here!” He set the journal onto the table so both could say, “He was on the search for some spirit. According to what he knew about it, he was trying to search for it’s name when it was a human. To use as some kind of binding spell. It didn’t really mean anything to me when I first read it, but I don’t know much about exorcisms”

It was a few hours before either of them spoke again. Rebecca had been, admittedly, drawn into the text she’d been reading and forgotten that there was another person in the room with her until he’d let out a soft exclamation. She was oft to do that, something Theo had always bugged her about. You can get lost, she’d always say, as long as you come back to me. And she always had. Always. Orion had toddered off somewhere, but Rebecca’s curiosity got the best of her, as she set her book aside and listened to him shuffle his way through the big, empty library. He came back soon with a new book in his hands, an excited look on his face. A scribe. Of course a scribe had the answer, all locked up and tucked away in a vast labyrinth where only a dedicated and privileged mind could find it. Not that she blamed Orion for this, but anything scribe left a sour taste in her mouth. She licked her lips, glanced at what he was pointing at, listening to what he was saying. She’d heard Rabbi Emmanuel speak about something like this before. Demons whose names held all their power, buried where no one could find while they grew stronger, consuming souls. “Of course…” Rebecca muttered under her breath, scribbling all this information down into her journal, “how could I have not realized? Oh, Orion! You’re a genius!” she exclaimed, hopping up to grab his shoulders and give him a good pat. “Thank you! This is just what I needed.” Finally, finally, she had something to cling onto. A thread of hope.

Maybe Orion was eager - no - desperate to impress the professor. Was he a teacher’s pet? Maybe, though he didn’t feel that way towards all teachers. It was the ones that he held a shared interest with. Professor Drake, Professor Beck and now Professor Rothbard. Those that valued knowledge as much as he did. So when he found the book and brought it over for her to examine he held his breath in anticipation that this was what she was looking for. That this could help. Because more than anything else in the world, wasn’t that what he was the most desperate to do? “No- no not a genius at all. I just have a lot of free time on my hands.” It had been more luck than anything else that he recognized the name and knew where to look. “But I hope that this helps” He closed the book again and held it out towards her, “Do you want to take it? He could have something else that helps in here.” If she would be leaving soon then he should too. It was best to stick around people for now. “Can I- help with anything? To get rid of that evil spirit thing?”

Rebecca gave him one of those stern, quit being modest looks. “Don’t downplay your achievements. You could be using your free time for other stuff, but you chose to do this. And remembering an entire passage from reading it once is pretty amazing, if you ask me,” she said, beaming down at him. Not just because she was proud of him, but because she couldn’t help the excitement inside of her. She wanted to say yes, to take the book, but if he found it, all this progress would be ruined. For now, her coded notes would work. “No, no, that’s alright. I have all I need right here, now,” she said, patting her journal. “And you’ve done plenty to help, trust me. You can leave the rest to me, I’ll take care of it. But thank you, Orion. You really are a smart kid. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” And she would make sure the dybbuk never set foot in this place, because if he did, she wasn’t going to be the only one in danger anymore.

[cooperfmarchive]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐  𝒊𝒕'𝒔  𝒎𝒆  again  !  lenny  back  at  it  with  another  long  ass  intro  ,  are  we  surprised  ?  below  the  cut  ,  you  can  learn  all  about  my  emo  boy  cooper  !  just  like  with  val’s  ,  give  this  post  a  LIKE  and  i’ll  slide  into  ur  dms  to  plot  !

also  ,  just  an  fyi  :  i'll  probably  be  a  little  bit  on  and  off  for  the  next  day  or  so  ,  but  i'm  always  available  to  reach  via  dms  because  i'm  unhealthily  attached  to  my  phone  !

(  tw  :  mention  of  drugs  ,  addiction  )

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  𝑪𝑶𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑹  is  back  on  campus  ,  which  is  surprising  considering  the  threatening  note  i  left  them  .  yes  ,  i  know  all  about  𝑯𝑰𝑺  𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑻  -  𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫  𝑺𝑶𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑻𝒀  because  of  their  𝑮𝑳𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑵𝒀  .  imagine  the  tabloids  and  how  the  𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑨  family  would  feel  for  such  information  to  come  out  ,  not  to  mention  the  reputation  of  𝑺𝑰𝑮𝑴𝑨  because  of  their  actions  .  at  this  rate  ,  he  is  better  off  staying  put  in  𝑩𝑬𝑳  𝑨𝑰𝑹  ,  𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑨  and  living  off  that  1.2𝑩  family  net  worth  .  what’s  the  point  in  studying  𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑫𝑼𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵  with  plans  to  𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑳  &  𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴  𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫𝑾𝑰𝑫𝑬  ,  is  it  worth  it  with  what  i  know  ?  anyways  ,  they  may  want  to  continue  to  be  𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑮  &  𝑫𝑬𝑿𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺  because  the  𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬  &  𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻  attributes  make  me  want  to  spill  .  (  austin butler  ,  lenny  ,  mst  )  .

*  /  ———  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺  :

full  name  :  cooper johnathon averna

nicknames  :  coop , cj

age  /  birthdate  :  twenty3 / june 15th , 1996

gender  :  cis male / he , him

sexuality  :  pansexual

hometown  :  bel air , california

major  :  music production

*  /  ———  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫  :

ok so funny story !!! i started writing this out , and then i kept writing ... and writing ... and writing ... and then my “ intro ” turned into a whole ass “ biography ” for my boy cooper so !! you can find that Novel right here ( the end is still a work in progress tho ) . below will be my attempt at the spark notes version of it all , although i can almost guarantee it will still get out of hand because i , like our lord and saviour jenna marbles , cannot control my too much gene !!!!

so our boy cooper is the older brother to our fav twins , summer and wynter averna ! together , the three of them are the youngest generation of the averna family . powerful , renowned , and manipulative — the avernas are made up of a long line of successful politicians . currently , daddy johnathan averna is the governor of california , and this heavy legacy has weighed upon cooper’s shoulders for the majority of his life .

in short , cooper is best described as the black sheep of the averna family . while his other family members are power - hungry , manipulative , and thick - skinned , cooper could be described as weak - willed , personable , and charming . this was a major disappointment to his father , john , because he’d been hoping for a son that would follow in his footsteps and grow up to make incredible moves in politics , but cooper couldn’t have been further from what a politician should be , and this caused for a severe lack of affection and validation from his parents on cooper’s part .

at school , however , cooper filled these holes with the popularity he gained within the halls of his private school . everyone wanted to be his friend and the affection and compassion that he lacked at home was made up for by his large circle of friends . but unfortunately , things were not as picture - perfect as they seemed , and in his sophomore year of high school , cooper discovered that his girlfriend had been hooking up with his best friend and in an extreme domino effect , cooper learned that the “ friends ” he’d surrounded himself with were just as power - hungry and manipulative as his own family and were using him for the sole purpose of gaining popularity and getting a taste of the prestige cooper’s surname promised . 

but cooper here is far too soft and desperate for affection , and his fear of loneliness far outweighed his desire to have meaningful relationships so he couldn’t bare to actually cut those who’d been using him out of his life . so instead , cooper found himself diving deep into bel air’s party scene , the adrenaline and excitement of it distracting him from the fact that everyone around him didn’t really give two shits about him .

cooper’s partying kind of snowballed from there . long story short , his parents literally never noticed that cooper had even an inkling of a problem , which further distanced him from his family . and as soon as cooper was eighteen , he booked a one - way ticket to europe to do what he does best : run away from his issues and drown them out with alcohol and drugs . 

he really just wanted to escape the weight of his surname and putting as much distance between himself and the spotlight that followed him constantly seemed like his best bet . and for about a year , it really worked for him . he bounced around europe , discovered its beauty and culture , and partied day in and day out , all while forgetting the legacy he’d left behind and finding what he wanted to : music — but we’ll get to that later .

but just short of a year , cooper got caught up in a drunken brawl in amsterdam that left him with a concussion and broken hand . luckily , daddy came to the rescue after a phone call from cooper and john paid off everyone involved in order to keep the story under wraps , but under one condition : cooper return home to bel air and attend university to hopefully clean up his act and get a degree .

cooper started at hollingsworth as a business major , but that didn’t work out as easily as he’d been hoping and he was just barely scraping by at the end of his sophomore year . however , when he was home for the summer , cooper rediscovered his love for music upon finding the belongings of his that had been shoved away by his parents two years prior , and he made the switch to majoring in music production when he returned to hollingsworth for his junior year .

his parents still do not know about his change in major , for cooper knows they wouldn’t believe it’s a viable career path for him to take and he also has an innate fear of disappointing them . he’s got some severe daddy issues , having always desperately craved the validation of his father but always lacking it because his dad only believed in only one possible future for his son : carrying on the averna legacy in politics . cooper realizes that it’s ridiculous , and that he is more than free to do what he wants and brush off his parents’ judgements , but that is a lot easier said than done unfortunately .

to briefly touch on his music : cooper’s voiceclaim is sir sly — edgy , emo , electronic alternative music . he’s incredibly passionate about his music , often spending many late nights in hollingsworth’s recording studios . he taught himself to play guitar while in europe , but upon enrolling in hworth’s music program has learned how to play the drums , keyboard , and properly project his vocals . he’s also gained experience in mixing and producing music , of which he mostly does himself with his own music . currently , he has one released album ( you haunt me ) , but is working on his next one ( don’t you worry , honey ) already .

*  /  ———  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹  :

label(s)  :  the muso , the maverick , the enigma , the black sheep

muso ( a person who is musically talented )

maverick ( an unorthodox or independent - minded person )

enigma ( a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand )

black sheep ( regarded as a disgrace to a family )

notable traits  :  charming , reckless , dexterous , addictive , reticent , truculent , intelligent , compassionate , adventurous

aesthetics  :  a sharpened pencil scratching against paper , ringed fingers plucking guitar strings , a piercing gaze , pursed lips , cigarette smoke curling in evening air , soft t - shirts and black jeans , shiny silver and gold jewelry , masculine cologne 

in  a  nutshell  :  basically , cooper’s an enigma at first glance . he has a mysterious aura to him : his gaze is shielded , his voice quiet , and his posture reclusive . he often prefers to keep to himself in unfamiliar situations at first until he gets a feel for the atmosphere , and the way he’s usually hunkered over a journal definitely screams “ leave me alone . ” the walls he built around himself in high school remain strong , because he knows he’s far too soft - hearted for his own good . overly eager to protect everyone he meets and show others the love and compassion he desperately craves for himself , he’s a walking contradiction in the way that he puts distance between himself and others , fearful of letting them too close , lest it be revealed that they’re only using him for his elite legacy and his heart be broken once again , but his need for attention and companionship has made him incredibly skilled at making you feel like there’s little to no distance separating him from you , distracting you from realizing that you actually know very little about him with his infectious smile and exciting presence . everyone’s a friend of cooper’s , at least on the outside . but if you’re lucky enough to actually wiggle through a crack in his walls , you’ll find a heart far larger than expected , a passion for music that he’s eager to share with others , and a protectiveness for his loved ones that is reminiscent of the brother you always wanted .

*  /  ———  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻  :

it’s no secret that cooper loves to party — he’s all over hworth’s party scene , often one of the first to call for a round of shots on a night out — but what is a secret is cooper’s addiction to drugs , specifically but not limited to cocaine . 

upon his return to bel air , one of the promises he’d made to his family was that he’d stop using and beat the addiction that had haunted him . the news of cooper’s addiction was the last thing his father wanted to get leaked to the public , fearful for his own reputation as a clean , respected public figure if his own son had fallen prey to drugs . and for a while , cooper was able to bury his addiction and avoid his kryptonite while at parties — but as school became more stressful he found it increasingly difficult to continue to do so , and one night someone offered a line to cooper after a particularly stressful exam and he gave in , and the flood gates opened .

when he was younger and first entering the party scene , cooper had almost openly flaunted his drug use , probably as a cry for help to his seemingly clueless parents , but since relapsing he’s learned how to keep it behind closed doors . only a fair few know of his drug use and cooper will go to any length to keep it that way .

*  /  ———  𝑻𝑯𝑬  𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺  :

wanted plots .

pinterest .

spotify .

also !!! i feel like i need to address the topic of cooper’s hair , because many of the resources that i will be using of austin have him with blond with long and shaggy hair , but cooper’s hair is actually what austin’s is right now : dark and cut short . but to kinda explain the photos of blond!austin , cooper actually bleached his hair and grew it out whilst travelling in europe as another act of defiance towards his family and to distance himself from his past self . over the past summer , though , he cut it short and dyed it back to his natural brunet , purely an impulse decision TBH , but also probably a weird metaphor for how he initially went blond to distance himself from his legacy , but now that he’s pursuing a career that really distances him from it , he went back to brunet as his own fucked up way of still trying to appease his parents’ fucked up expectations .

[randombtsprincessa]

Anarchy

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader (Ft. Jeon Jungkook) (2nd POV)

Words: 16.1k

Genre: Smut/Angst

Summary: A brutal break-up leaves you devoid of inspiration and an enigmatic author helps you see that the best of us have demons.

Warning: Jerk! Jungkook, Bitchiness, Pettiness, Profanity, Dirty Talk, Oral (Both receiving), Unprotected Sex.

A/N: I just love Namjoon!

The last year of college is supposed to be fun and studying in equal parts. It is supposed to be studying all day and letting loose at night in a frat party with your man and your girls and boys.

It isn’t supposed to be sitting in front of your open laptop in the dark room binging on ice cream and Netflix. It isn’t supposed to be ditching your literature thesis and novel – two of the most important things to you to get out of college – because you were uninspired.

It definitely wasn’t supposed to be your best friend letting herself in to your apartment to find you in your hiding place – vulnerable in pajamas, wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

“Y/N,” she sighed, dropping her bags on the coffee table with an ominous thud as she began to move around your usually tidy apartment with lithe steps.

You watched her warily while she opened windows to let in the cool night breeze, shook out the curtains, kicked away tossed clothes and take out containers and then come over to stand next to you, hands on hips and lips pursed.

“Did you even move since the morning?” Yerin asked.

You shrugged. What did it matter if you moved or not? What did it matter if you did anything at all?

“Y/N,” she sighed again, looking around the dark room again before her manicured fingers reached out and did the unthinkable.

She switched on the light switch.                                                

Brightness flooded the living room, harsh and unfamiliar to your delicate eyes as you let out a wild yelp, ducking under your blanket to protect yourself.

“Hell, Y/N, this isn’t healthy!” Yerin said from somewhere overhead even as you stayed buried in your soft darkness, tipping your body over to lie on the floor, pitiful whines falling from your mouth. Your brain fought hard, trying to infuse some sense into your aching heart, reasoning with claws and fangs.

“I know, Yerin, ok? I know this is horrible and filthy and that I smell and that probably everyone in class thinks I’m dead or something…maybe pregnant.” You wailed.

Try as she may, Yerin couldn’t help rolling her eyes at her best friend.

“No one thinks you’re dead or pregnant, Y/N. they know what happened, they know you need time.” She cajoled before biting her lip as you emerged, a furious scowl on your face.

“Oh, so everyone knows I got dumped? Great, Yerin, that’s just great, it’s just what I fucking need.” You snapped before picking your decrepit self off the floor, blanket still wrapped around you as you made your way into the kitchen to put the ice cream container in the refrigerator.

Yerin followed, mentally slapping herself for letting it slip that everyone on campus knew about your heartbreak.

“They don’t mean to be mean, Y/N. I’m just saying that people will understand.” She tried again.

You did not reply. What came instead was a soft sniffle that immediately made Yerin rush to the girl, wrapping slender arms around the hunched figure.

“I just don’t understand…” you hiccupped, “why he would do this.”

“He’s a jerk, Y/N. a jerk who did not deserve you…at all.” Yerin whispered, her grip tightening on you as you thought back to the day your loving boyfriend of 3 years decided he did not want to be with you after all, that there was plenty of fish in the ocean that he needed to try out before he settled down…that you were just not enough anymore.

“I saw Jungkook in class today, Y/N…he didn’t seem to be doing too good,” Yerin ventured slowly.

You shook even more, triggered at the mention of your boyfriend’s name…no, ex boyfriend’s name. Yerin was right. If Jungkook didn’t love you enough to keep it in his pants, then he did not deserve you…and you weren’t about to be sympathetic to the man who hurt and left you at a time you needed him the most.

His betrayal went deep. Not only were you crippled by the pressure in your heart, it was wrecking your life at college. You should be in classes, writing assignments, working on the novel you were going to try and get published after graduation. You weren’t supposed to be bedridden or hidden in a mass of blankets binging food and movies.

Jungkook had effectively destroyed you and he did not get to feel sad after shattering your heart, life, hopes and dreams.

“Y/N…?” Yerin asked softly, trying to jolt you out of your stiff countenance but you vigorously shook your head.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to care anymore.” you whispered harshly, more of an order to your own self than an assurance to her.

Yerin stared for a while before nodding.

“You got it, beautiful. Let’s go get your life back.” She whispered as you wrapped your own arms around her.

Morning dawned a little too fast for your liking; sunlight pouring from your window and brushing against your closed eyelids, prompting you to roll over on your back with a disgruntled groan.

Unbidden, Yerin’s words from last night flooded your mind and you sat up slowly, blanket pooling around your waist as you gathered your bearings about you.

Jungkook and you had broken up. You had mourned that relationship while it lasted for long enough. You couldn’t stay cooped up in your apartment forever – for one, you needed your degree to work and pay for yourself.

With aggressive affirmations chanting in your mind, you picked yourself up to attend your class.

When you passed through the open doors of the lecture hall, you expected all eyes turn to you with varying degrees of judgment, sympathy or pity like a cheap rom-com but none of that happened…

It was almost as if you had never disappeared off the surface of the world as you made your way to your seat, weaving around the throngs of the chatting students. Yes, one or two turned to glance back at you when they saw you were back but it didn’t faze you all that much until you spotted your seat finally…and the one next to it…occupied by Jungkook.

You stopped mid-step, jostled by the passing students as you stared at the boy in front of you.

Damn, you had forgotten that over the course of your relationship, Jungkook and you had sat next to each other in all the lectures you had together. Thankfully, you only had this last subject remaining for your final year so that made things easy. You wouldn’t have to see him for five consecutive hours.

As you shuffled on your feet, you noticed that Yerin probably hadn’t looked at Jungkook too closely.

He didn’t look too bad. His hair still had that shine he achieved from the most expensive hair gel he could find. He had even changed his clothing. Instead of the usual hoodie and t-shirt, he had donned a fitted leather jacket and a shirt that screamed branded.

You couldn’t help but feel hurt. Jungkook was putting in so much effort to lure in new ‘fish’. Where had that effort been when he had been dating you? Hadn’t you been worth it at all?

Spinning on your heel, you marched towards one of the empty desks near the middle of the class and tapped the person sitting next to the empty one on the shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked roughly.

The boy widened his eyes at the slightly hostile behavior from you and quickly shook his head. “Thanks,” you huffed, flopping down into the seat and huddling in close as the boy turned to you completely.

“You’re…Y/N, right?” he asked.

You nodded and he cleared his throat. “Sorry about Jeon, you know; I heard about why he broke up with you.” he said. You pursed your lips at the uninvited sympathy but nonetheless offered him a smile.

“Thanks,” you said again.

He nodded. “I’m Taehyung, by the way,” he smiled. “You should know if you’re going to be my partner.” He said before turning to face the front when the professor strode in.

Professor Jung Hoseok was the youngest professor on our campus and the dream boat of almost all the females in the vicinity. Not only was he good looking; with dark hair parted neatly to give him that scholarly look, gold rimmed glasses that reflected light when he put them on and a sunny smile that lit up the room, he was a verifiable literature genius; able to recite sonnets and complicated Latin couplets that would make our lunch lady swoon.

Still, no matter how much of a heartthrob he was for the university, Jung was stern and a scary perfectionist. He never became overbearing but he was known to push people till they achieved their potential. He was a big name in the publishing world for this very reason.

Naturally, you had to please him if you wanted to make it in the field.

Mr. Jung stopped at his desk before casting a keen glance over the class, dark eyes sharp without his glasses. With a single wave of his hand, he acknowledged our greetings and began to get to work.

Switching on the projector and laptop, he pulled on his glasses, the rim glowing in the silver light of the projector as a picture of a blank paper.

He cleared his throat.

“Ok so class, what do you see here?” he asked.

“A blank page,” someone called from the back.

“Good, why do you think I have this on here?” he asked.

There was silence.

Mr. Jung circled the desk to stand at the front. “Come on, class, this is creative writing, use your imagination.” He said.

“To…tell a story…?” a voice floated.

He grinned.

“Correct, but not quite…it’s not for me to tell the story…it is for you.”

You froze in your seat.

“Now, we have forty five minutes. I want you to write me something in thirty minutes. Do this and you can leave fifteen minutes early.” He clapped his hands twice and returned to his desk, sitting down and fiddling on the keyboard.

Taehyung turned to me, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Wow, not what I expected today, I’m so out of it.”

You snorted mentally. Yeah, says you who have had zero inspiration for weeks now…

Even as people turned in their sheets to Mr. Jung and filed out, Taehyung included you nervously stayed back until you saw Jungkook pass by, sheet of paper clutched in his hand.

You watch as he hands in over to Mr. Jung before walking out, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his leather clad shoulder.

Finally realizing that you were the only student left in the class, you stood up shakily, taking in a deep breath for stabilization as you shuffled over to him.

Mr. Jung looked up expectantly.

“Ah, Y/N, yes, I’m looking forward to your work.” He smiled.

There was a pause as you guiltily looked down. “I…don’t have anything, sir.”

He frowned immediately. “I beg your pardon?”

“I couldn’t do it…”

Mr. Jung frowned at you as he glanced around the empty class again.

“Its fine, Miss Y/L/N, its creativity, sometimes it takes time to come. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I have a class in another fifteen minutes. I would like you to come to my office at the end of college hours.” He said briskly, snapping the laptop shut.

You nodded before turning, leaving the room.

By the time the end of workday strolled by, you were nervous and sweating at what Jung was going to tell you. was he going to tell you he was taking away your assignments from you? was he going to sideline your book?

Veritably trembling, you knocked twice on the frosted glass of Mr. Jung’s office and entered at the soft ‘come in’.

At your appearance, Mr. Jung smiled.

“Y/N, good, good, have a seat,” he said, indicating a chair in front of his desk and you plopped down, biting your lips as he steeped his fingers together, eyeing you speculatively.

“Now, do you want to discuss what has you in such a dump?” he asked.

You stumbled. “S-sir?” you asked.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m not that much older than you…I’ve been where you are just a few years ago. I know an inspiration leak when I see one…” he said.

You stayed still, spluttering wordlessly at him.

“In professional terms, we call it a writer’s block.” He gently murmured before tapping at his laptop.

“You have been absent in class for the past week, I doubt you have done your assignment and I have received no updates on your book. As a man close to your age, I can sympathize but as your teacher who reports to superiors of his own, I have to interfere in due course, Miss Y/L/N.” he said.

You looked down, trying to blink back disappointed tears before you were spouting out your side of the story to your professor about how Jungkook broke your heart, how he was parading around his good looks in your direct line of sight and how you couldn’t move from your floor for days and the fact that some part of you still believed that Jungkook could come back to you after having his fill of ‘fresh fish’.

Was it stupid of you to consider taking him back? Of course, but who cared?

“However, as a man and your teacher who sees potential in you and believes that you can get past it and wants to help you, I can say that I am willing to give you some help.”

You looked up quickly at that as he gave you another quick smile of pity.

“I’ll give you an extension on that assignment and in return I want you to start working on your book along with it. If you can submit the assignment in two days and its good enough, I will help you on your book.” He said.

You shot up from your desk.

“I won’t disappoint you, sir. I promise to submit it by then,” you said, taking his wave of acknowledgement as your dismissal as you rushed off to get to work on 2500 words worth of an assignment.

On the day of reckoning, I watched as Jung walked among the desks taking in the assignments before he was stopping at mine – still next to Taehyung – and quirking an eyebrow. I slipped the folder into his waiting palm and watched his lips twitch a little before he moved on.

At the end of the class he stood up, “Miss Y/N, kindly stay back,” he said as everyone filed out.

I stood up to go to his desk when my elbow collided with someone while swinging my bag on to my shoulder. “Oh sorry!” you said quickly, only to see it was Jungkook, who looked startled to see you.

Yeah, did he forget you and him go to the same classes?

“No…no worries, Y/N,” he said shakily before he was slinking past you, hurriedly walking out the door.

You sighed, walking quickly to Mr. Jung’s desk, hoping that he hadn’t seen that exchange.

“Very good, Y/N, this looks promising, I’d say you have earned help on that book of yours fair and square.” He said a rare wide smile on his face.

You smiled back, rubbing your hands a little to warm the excited numb feeling in your fingers as he pulled out his wallet and picked out a paper from one of the compartments, handing it to you.

“I spoke to one of my friends about helping you on the book; Writing, editing, the works. He’s an author himself, so he knows all the tricks. Maybe you’ve heard of him? His name is Kim Namjoon.” He said.

You wracked your mind. “Is he the one who wrote The Real Me?” You asked. You remembered seeing the book on the shelves of your favorite book store but you had been too swamped with studies to afford buying a new book.

“Yes, he recently came back from an abroad trip and I know he doesn’t have any works in progress at the moments as Real Me is still making the rounds. He’s one of my best friends and he agreed to take a look at your work. He’s going to be at that café at the time I’ve written down and I included the number just in case. I hope this helps you, Y/N. I expect you to be on your best behavior with him as well.” He said.

You nodded fervently, profusely thanking the lucky stars for giving you this opportunity.

That weekend, you arrived bright and early at the meet up place Jung had written down for you and nervously waited for anyone to approach the table you were sitting at. You’d already done a sweep of the place to make sure you were the only one sitting alone so there would be no mistaken identities and had looked him up online.

Kim Namjoon was twenty four years old, fresh out of college and published by one of the most prestigious companies in the business, Bulletproof Co. He was tall, handsome and always well dressed, in suits or preppy shirts and sweaters. You had zoomed on his face to make sure you had the correct guy and even underneath the thick rimmed black square glasses or the occasional sunglasses, you could see the softness lingering in his sharp good looks; be it in the plumpness of his lips, the round, dimpled cheeks or the slant under his eyes.

You switched to his book details to see informed and you had to say, you were pretty impressed.

The Real Me was a philosophical and psychological revelation. It started with recounting real life instances of people’s lives and how Namjoon himself had felt them; failure, pressure of success, silver spooning and finally heartbreak.

It ended with the realization that everything came and went and that the furnace which life lit for a person would indirectly forge them into a better person…and if they were lucky, they might be able to find their true selves in that journey as well.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You looked over your shoulder to see the man in a large black hat and shades standing at your chair, head cocked to one side.

“Um, yes, that would be me,” you said.

The man nodded, moving to sit in front of you before he was removing his hat and glasses, placing them neatly on top of each other to a side of the round table.

“I’m Kim Namjoon; Jung Hoseok came to me about you.” he said, finally looking up to meet your studious eyes.

The Kim Namjoon in the pictures did no justice to the real life Kim Namjoon, you realized. He wasn’t as lean, the tall frame wrapped in muscles that bulged in the tightness of his clothes. The black jeans showed strong thighs, biceps flexing under the movement of his coat sleeve as he removed it, tossing it over the back of his chair. The simple plaid shirt underneath, made him look like a normal guy, not the suited bestseller author you’d seen online.

You realized he was waiting for a reply while you were staring at him so you quickly lowered your gaze.

“Yes, yes he did, he said you’d be able to help me with my book.” You said quietly.

“I could, of course, but I would like to know what exactly it is you need help with.” He said.

“Um, the writing and editing thing,” you mumbled as Namjoon nodded to a passing waiter who came to take your orders. While you asked for a simple milkshake, he went for a black coffee with the House Special Blend.

While the orders were done, he turned back to you. “I’m a little confused. Hoseok is your creative writing professor, isn’t he? He has much more of a name in the world than I do for these kinds of things. Why not just go to him?”

“He’s my teacher,” you said as the waiter placed your drinks in front of you and left. “I cannot ask him to push for me with the publishers. All that would be appropriate for him to do would be to give me a letter of recommendation. I need someone who can actually tell me what to do to get my work in print. Who better to do that than an already published writer?” you asked.

Namjoon smiled knowingly, turning his cup with his index finger.

“Ah, Hoseok…he always knew his little tricks.” He murmured before looking at you.

“What did you mean by helping you write?” he shot.

The question as always made you stiffen and then blush in embarrassment. “Yeah, that…um, I’m having a little bit of a…inspiration leak.” You said, quoting Jung.

“Writer’s block,” Namjoon said bluntly before shaking his head.

“I don’t know Miss Y /L /N; you seem like a good investment to me. Bright, well spoken and everything…plus you come with Hoseok’s recommendation and he doesn’t recommend just anyone…but I’m worried about the slump you’re in. I can’t help you if you cannot write. I cannot write your book for you, you see.”

“Oh but please, Mr. Kim, I mean, Mr. Jung gave me two days to finish his assignment and I managed that so I guess desperation works best for pulling me out of my slump. I’m not going to ask you to write anything for me. I just need you to guide me,” you said quickly.

Namjoon contemplated.

“Fine, tell me about what you’re writing…while I think about it,” he brought his cup up his thick lips to take a sip.

You took a sip of your own drink.

“The book is about struggle, something I think you’re familiar with.” You said and Namjoon tilted his head at you, an impressed look in his eyes.

“You read my book…did you grasp it well?”

“The basics, but I think I should get a chance to share our own pieces as well.” You said.

Namjoon smirked.

“Fair enough, I think I’d like to see what piece it is you want to share with the world. Bring me five hundred words tomorrow.” He said before placing his empty cup on the table and standing up, collecting his belongings.

“Where?” you asked.

“You have a writer’s block, what better place to go but to the park? see me near the small pond where they used to keep duck at 10.” He said.

The disused duck pond was the perfect spot, you realized, sitting on one of the fairly stronger benches as you waited for Namjoon, early again to maintain good impressions.

Your five hundred words were in your lap, a page full of masked demons, loss of self, and a maze of a journey with no outing.

“You have a habit of being early,” you heard from behind you.

A glance to your side, told you that Namjoon had arrived, this time looking like one of his pictures. A white button down, black slacks and blazer with his thick rimmed glasses, his silvery dark blond hair caught the dull morning sun as he sat down beside you, holding out a hand that you placed your homework on.

He sifted through it before tucking the page into one of his inside pockets. He crossed his arms as he bit on his lips.

“Did you read my book?” he asked.

“I told you; I read up on a bit online but I couldn’t complete it. I was busy studying to pass my course.” You said.

“I see; that’s what you say, Miss Y/L/N, but that isn’t what an editor or a publisher is going to say. It isn’t even what I’m going to say. What you’ve written…it’s like you’re holding up a mirror to what I have written in my book.” He said.

You gaped at him. “Are you saying I copied you? Because I did not; I mean yeah the premises are similar but the…”

“The premises, prose, writing style, even some of the wordings…they are all similar, Miss Y/L/N. I told you yesterday, I cannot write your book for you.”

“You aren’t though,” you said.

“You told me that you have a piece to share with the world. I liked that and I also like the piece but it isn’t…you. The girl I have seen in these two days is not the one I’m seeing reflected in this piece of paper.” He said, turning to face me as he scanned the confusion on my face.

“A writer needs to have a voice. This voice is what communicates to your readers. Sometimes, they might see themselves as you, try to relate as you…sometimes you try to relate to them, become them…in all these situations your audience needs to be able to see you, hear you, feel you in your words…if you can’t make your readers understand your essence through your work, what is the point of conveying messages to them? What is the point of writing? Just to get royalties…? Be rich and able to buy stuff…? Or do you actually want to be able to make a difference, no matter how small?” he said.

You sat there, watching over the pond as you contemplated his words.

“I want to make a difference.” You mumbled.

“Good, but you’re not going to do it by sounding like me. Try sounding like yourself. Tell me, what is it that you have on your mind right now? What’s driving you? Write about that. You are important to yourself and if you believe that, you can make your readers believe it too. So, tell me, Y/N…what do you feel?” he said.

“Um…I feel…desperation mostly, because I really need this. I want to be out in the world and if I wait till I graduate I will never get it done. I’m…sad I suppose…I just went through a break up because my boyfriend thinks he’s too young to settle down and needs to fuck others to decide.” You ranted.

You stopped before grinning sheepishly at him.

“Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“I’m a reader, Miss Y/L/N. if you can tell me a story, I’m willing to listen.” He mumbled, his body turning to you as he made himself comfortable.

Stumbling a little, you gave him exactly what he wanted…you told him a story about Jungkook.

When you were done, your eyes were distant, pools of amber and onyx lush with unshed memories as you recalled the way you’d disbelievingly watched your guiltless boyfriend leave you life, heart and apartment.

Namjoon was quiet as he let you finish before you sighed, turning to look at him again.

“Allow me to say this, Miss Y/L/N; you may not agree with me with your present mindset but you should use your heartbreak as a strength.” He turned to face the pond again.

“I’ve had my fair share of failures at love and I admit I had a bitter view of it for a long time but over time it changed. I have settled to believe that it is a necessary evil nowadays. You cannot avoid it in life. You will always see it, on the street, in a restaurant, in a park but you have the choice to be hateful towards it or you can take your chances and turn it into art – no matter how tragic it seems.” He gave you a bleak smile.

“You have a strange world view Mr. Kim Namjoon,” you whispered.

“I hope so…the woman who broke my heart had a habit of telling me I should stick to the mainstream. When we ended, I made it my mission to go the opposite way of everything she stood for. Now I am a successful author. Maybe you can do it too and in a few years, you won’t even remember this Jungkook.”

“You still remember her, don’t you?” you asked.

“Well, yes, but then it’s ok if you remember your past loves. All you have to make sure you remember is that they are not the people you once fell in love with. It seems unfair to go to that much trouble and yes, I will steer clear of her if I see her which tends to happen because we are in the same business, I still don’t hold myself inferior enough to beguile her existence as long as she is not beguiling mine.”

“That takes guts.” You said bluntly, making Namjoon laugh.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it? I think I got what I wanted across to you. Think about what I said and the next time we see each other I want a thousand words. I’ll text you when I’m free next.” He said, standing up and offering me his hand to shake.

“Until next time, Y/N,”

You shook his hand, “See you, Mr. Kim,”

He buttoned his blazer and made to turn before giving you one parting glance.

“Y/N,”

“Yeah?”

“Call me Namjoon.”

You’d known Namjoon for a month now and while he still remained an enigma to you mostly, you were happy to say that he was an enigma you could call him your friend.

Over the time that you’d known him, he had given you more insight into a writer’s mentality, reader reception and what publishers usually were looking for.

All of these guides were helpful but somehow along the way, you had started to crave more of how you felt around him rather than just the way he helped you along.

Namjoon had a very soothing presence, almost lulling you into tranquility while you were with him as he took you on walks and trips to places where no one was present. It would’ve seemed creepy if not for the fact that you trusted him explicitly in the short amount of time you’d known him. Besides he’d already warned you of his ways of detaching you from the world in the way that you could find yourself.

In these solitary places, he said, where no one was around to see you and judge you, you could be yourself, think of yourself, see things for yourself, wander inside yourself.

Did it seem melodramatic? Probably, but it did help.

Your mind was clearer…it helped you submit finals much easier and even as you were picked valedictorian by a beaming Jung Hoseok, you made it a point to thank him for helping you.

He characteristically waved it away. “I knew Namjoon would’ve been a great help to you. He was like you, you know, when we were in college. Same sort of thoughts, same proclivity towards philosophy…even the same, forgive me, naivety towards love.” He said.

“His ex?” you guessed and he nodded.

“She was a real piece of work. On the surface you’d think she was a godsend – sweet, kind, supportive, encouraging…but it wasn’t until she left Namjoon that we found out how sadistically she chewed on him.” Mr. Jung handed you the sash for valedictorian before shaking his head.

“She’s in the past now. So, how’s the book coming?” he asked, changing the subject as you spent the next half hour discussing the changes you’d made to it.

“Seems promising, I’d love to read it once Namjoon’s done with it. Oh and, our university is hosting a fund raiser for on campus personnel, Y/N. Many editors and publishers are going to be there. I know for a fact a few of your classmates have a few professors backing them. Would you be interested?” he asked.

“Um…is it appropriate?” you asked.

Jung shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. I am writing your letter of recommendation. What good is it going to do if you don’t have someone to show it to?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “Makes sense, I’ll try and be there.”

“Fantastic…oh and Y/N, I know this will sound strange but try to get Namjoon to attend…lord knows the man needs to get out more.”

By the time you emailed Namjoon about the fund raiser he’d already been logged in for a book signing and had to refuse, sending in a best of luck instead.

Yerin had come over, doing her best to make you look presentable. For all her knowledge of pop culture trivia, your best friend was hopeless with a hairbrush and even though you teased her for it, you were more than grateful as she tried to put your hair in an up-do by watching a YouTube tutorial.

“It’s just a fund raiser, Yerin. Don’t give yourself an aneurysm.” You said, watching her struggle with bobby pins and she threw you a look. “A fund raiser where your potential boss could be scouting talent; try looking your best, ok… There are going to be a lot of big shots there.” She said.

And a lot of big shots were present at the fund raiser…

Your dress swirled around your knees as you examined the Great Hall of the university where the event was taking place in awe. You wouldn’t have recognized it in daylight as shimmering chandeliers hung in alternative skylights.

Namjoon would’ve liked to be here, you thought, surprising yourself.

Normally, you wouldn’t be thinking of people like this and how they would appreciate…but you supposed that Namjoon just had that kind of aura of deriving pleasure from seemingly mundane things and that had struck a chord in you.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N, you made it,” you saw your headmaster, Mr. Sihyuk draw closer to you with Mr. Jung and you smiled, nodding at them. “The hall looks great, sir.” You said and Mr. Sihyuk grinned.

“It does, doesn’t it? You have the Art department to thank for that. I see Hoseok is backing you this year, very well very well. Make sure to make us all proud, Miss Y/L/N.” he said, patting Jung on the back and leaving to greet the other guests.

Mr. Jung sighed.

“You have no idea how pretentious this backing thing can get, Y/N.” he said, taking a sip from his flute. “Namjoon is signing books right now. He should’ve been here. He’d have merged right in.” He rolled his eyes before shaking his head.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just feeling frustrated from all the exam corrections…go and mingle Y/N, you’ll need the connections in a couple weeks.” He said, giving you a bleak smile before walking away.

Your smile faded away a little as you looked around the people talking. They all seemed to already know each other beforehand. There was no way your little anxious self was going up to someone and just introduce yourself.

As you backed up a little, you felt someone’s elbow catch you and you gasped, turning to apologize just as the woman turned too.

Pale, slender and beautiful, she grabbed your arm, a sheepish smile blossoming on her smooth deep pink lips as she quickly pulled you towards her.

“I’m so sorry! I am a complete klutz in heels, I swear.” She said.

Closer, she was even beautiful, flawless even as she tilted her head back a little to laugh.

“No, no, I should’ve seen where I was going.” You corrected quickly and the girl blushed prettily.

“That wouldn’t have helped. If I’m meant to hit someone, I usually do hit them.”

You giggled at her and she beamed. “Come on, join me, I have a feeling we’re going to get along really well. I’m Seulgi.” She said, tugging you after her to one of the empty table.

“I’m Y/N.” you said as she plucked two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed you one, plopping down on the chair and letting out a soft moan of relief.

“Thank god, these things were killing me,” she said.

“I know right, my best friend told me to wear flat just because she knows I can’t stay in heels for long.” You told her.

She sighed, “I wish my friends were that smart, but alas, I happen to be the expert in these things. You’d think I’d be wearing flats but come on, heels make you look great.” She gushed.

After a few more glasses, you and Seulgi were still at the table, talking about future prospects and past experiences alike. She was the assistant of one of the editors and you recalled that Publishing House had worked with Namjoon. Funny how that was how you would remember someone…You even talked about douche bag exes and she tutted at the way Jungkook had treated you.

“That, honey, is why men are pigs. No matter how much you love them, they still cannot think clear past their dicks. Was he hot, though?” she asked.

“Oh, very,” you mumbled, thinking of the doe eyes that would turn to dark and hooded and the half smirk that could itself made you want to crawl over him. You didn’t have to see his body to think him hot but he somehow had that as well.

“Well, as long as you tapped that good and nice.” She said and you choked on your drink, bursting out laughing.

“What about you? Any douches in your life?” you asked, quickly diverting your new friend from Jungkook.

“Hmm, a few…there was particularly one though…he wasn’t a douche…we just didn’t see things the same way. If you asked him, he’d say I was trying to hold him back…” he laughed, “typical excuse, right? I just wanted him to make big and be safe, you know. I loved him.” She said.

You shook your head. “Well, I guess you’re better off without him.”

She smiled. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” She whispered.

When you finally came back home, late and with Seulgi’s number added to your phone with promises to see each other again that you thought nothing of, you wandered into your room to see Yerin was still waiting there.

She had passed out in your bed, hair sprawled around her like a halo, arms tucked neatly under her and you smiled fondly at her before tucking her in and going out with your phone and to browse a bit before you went to bed. There awaiting in your inbox was a small text from Namjoon asking you if you were free tomorrow and that he’d like to take you for a movie he’d been aiming to watch but didn’t have free time to go until today.

For a reason unbeknownst to you, the small message brought a smile to your face as you typed and sent in a yes.

The next day when you opened the door at six, you were surprised to see Namjoon standing at your doorstep without his usual effects of hat, sunglasses and coat. He was in a simple long sleeved black shirt and grey jeans, his hair mussed artfully which made you question why it was fair for people to look that good while you had to spend half an hour in front of a mirror.

“Hey,” he said a dimpled smile on his face. “How was the fund raiser?”

“Hmm, it was good, met a few interesting people,” you replied as you locked your door, following him to his car. He held the passenger door open for you and when you slipped in you found the tickets already on the dash in front of you. You picked it up turning them to see the name, expecting to find some documentary only to be surprised again.

“A scary movie, really?” you threw at him as he got in and started the car.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, I was just expecting something more like…you know, a guy on top of a hill talking about aliens or something like that.” You teased.

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“I do have a life outside of my profession, Miss Y/L/N. it might not always seem like it; but it’s been known to happen.” He griped as you chuckled.

The ride to the cinema seemed shorter with him recounting his short history with Horror. He had only seen five in his time but he’d read a lot about them. Something about the visuals already created for him made him relax his mind, he explained, which was why most people probably preferred movies over books. After a long day, they didn’t need to spend time imagining things.

“Which is your favorite?” you asked, standing next to him as he got popcorn.

“This is going to sound so cliché to you…it’s the Exorcist.” He mumbled, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and handing you the tub and your drink.

“Oh my god, yes it does,” you said.

“Oh come on, it has blasphemy, levitation and my personal favorite, projectile vomiting.” He grinned.

“So, you’re into those kind of things?” you shoved at him and he stuttered over his words, ears reddening.

“No, I just meant…let’s just watch the movie.” He grunted, quickly ducking into the dark theatre as you followed, howling with laughter.

Even with the movie playing, you could tell that Namjoon was overcompensating.

His eyes were nearly squinting, ready to close at any jump scare of gruesome scene in the Slash movie. You stretched out your hand and gripped his free one.

“It’s just a movie, Joon.” The nickname falling from your lips easily, as he turned to look at you, eyes wide before looking down at your hands as he returned the grip, twice as hard.

“I know, I’m fine.” He said.

You’d have agreed with him if he hadn’t been holding your hand like a bear trap but you stayed mum before jumping yourself the next moment at a jump scare. Only it wasn’t because of the appearance of the hooded and masked killer, it was because Namjoon nearly shot up from his seat and threw himself across the room, taking you with him.

Even as the main protagonist fell on the stairs with the killer in pursuit, the lights came on and Namjoon and you both visibly deflated, slumping against the seats in relief.

“Thank god,” you said as he quickly stood up, your hand still in his and began to walk through the aisles, heading outside.

“Namjoon, promise me one thing.” You said, blinking in the bright lights. “That’s one sequel we are not watching.” You said.

Namjoon chuckled, dropping your hand. “Agreed…do you mind? I’ll just be a minute.” He said, tilting his head towards the men’s room and you nodded.

You’d just sat down on the bench near the lobby when you felt him.

Your shoulders stiffened, body tensed and mouth went dry even as days later of enduring heartbreak because of him, your body responded to him like a live wire. You turned slowly, eyeing him.

He was dressed in fitted leather again, you noted, hands deep in the pocket of his jacket as he stared at you.

“What do you want?” you snapped finally.

Jungkook sighed as he took a step closer to you. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t seen you…for such a long time.” He said.

“Did you…follow me or something?” you asked.

“No, I just…I brought Rosie here…” he mumbled.

I closed my mouth. He was on a date…he was on a fucking date. I wanted to tell him to go to hell but he was speaking again.

“That time in class I just…you looked at me and I…I remembered when you used to look at me…it was so different, like you didn’t know me anymore. I felt, I don’t know, I guess I felt hurt but then I brushed it off but then I saw that you were here with that guy and I…I feel angry, I feel jealous. I’m not supposed to feel like that, I know. I have no right.”

“You’d be right about that.” You spat at him.

“I don’t know who you are anymore. You left me, you’re on a date. You can’t feel jealous or angry because I might be on one too. You lost all right to do that when you stopped loving me.”

“I didn’t stop loving you. I still love you…and I know it might be a little late now but I meant it when I said you’re it for me,” he said, taking another step towards you and you stumbled back, already weakening. He had always taken you in so easily.

“Yeah, well, sorry to burst your bubble buddy, but you’re definitely not it for her.” Another voice, deeper and stronger sounded behind him and you glanced over his shoulder to see Namjoon. Even though they were nearly the same height, Namjoon towered over Jungkook as he walked towards you, entangling his fingers with yours, body angled almost protectively in front of you.

Jungkook returned the look evenly.

“Look dude, I don’t know who you are but I think I know what I’m talking about. Your one date isn’t trumping my three years.” He said, shrugging.

“You’re right, it won’t. You breaking up with her because you wanted to fuck around, now that’s going to trump a whole lot more that just three years.”

You looked at Namjoon, the first time you’d heard him say anything as crude as ‘fuck’.

“Just stay away from my girlfriend.” He continued, shoving past a stunned Jungkook and pulling you with him.

Namjoon didn’t let go of your hand till you were at his car and he was pushing you in and getting in himself, driving off with his jaw clenched.

You sat there, eyes still blown wide open as you processed what had just happened. You let out a loud groan, burying your head in your hands, cursing. “Oh god, I am so sorry.” You lamented.

Namjoon turned to give you a bewildered look. “What are you sorry for? Out of all of us, you’re the last one who should be apologizing.”

“But…but…I just stood there and let him talk over me,” you said.

“That wasn’t your fault. It’s natural you still feel a little out of balance around him. That has everything to do with the fact that you need to get used to being around him and nothing to do with you or your feeling, understand?” he asked and you nodded slowly.

Namjoon tightened his hold on the wheel. “I hate people like him.” He grunted.

You glanced at him.

“People who…I don’t know how to explain it in proper terms…the people who get in relationships one after the other. They are the weakest people. Especially, the ones who use the power they have over you for their own sick purposes. That guy was just trying to protect the one territory he was sure he’d always claim over. The moment he thought you might be in danger of backing out of his ball court he came back to play with you. That…that kind of person sickens me.”

This was the longest you’d ever heard Namjoon rant about anything and you couldn’t help but reach out for his hand. He gave it you slowly and you squeezed it.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely before letting him go, looking out the window while he returned his hand to the wheel, slower still.

“Where are we going?” you asked suddenly realizing you couldn’t recognize the neighborhood.

“Uh…I’m taking you to my place. Damn, I completely forgot.” He said but you shook your head.

“It’s ok. I can’t say I haven’t been curious about your house.” You said. He smiled at you softly before taking a turn into a driveway.

Namjoon’s apartment was on the other side of the lavish apartment complex, meaning he had a fantastic view of the cityscape which at this time of night twinkled from the floor length French windows, leading to the terrace.

He flipped on switches along the way to illuminate the way as he sighed - obviously homily. It was a sigh you knew well. It was one you heaved when you entered the comfort and isolated silence of your own apartment, the quiet blanketing you.

You watched from the foyer as Namjoon walked to a large wooden dresser in the living room, taking his wallet and phone and placing it on them neatly before running his hands through his hair, messing it up even more before he glanced at you.

“You don’t have to stand there like that, Y/N. Come on in,” he said.

You walked over to him and looked around you while Namjoon watched you.

Namjoon’s home, though luxurious and tastefully decorated in warm, earth tones, it was still sparse, slightly bare.

“You don’t have a lot of things in the house.” You noted.

Namjoon shrugged, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I have a few things I got on the trips I have taken; Mostly collectibles and figurines or books.”

“You collect toys?” you smirked at him.

“Figurines,” he corrected, scoffing at you. “But you’re right, I don’t like having a lot of things around me…it feels like I cluttering myself.” He said.

“Sometimes, a lot of things means you take comfort from them.” You said, remembering the trinkets you had back at your place and the memory connected to each of them.

He didn’t say anything and you moved to a wall where he’d hung up pictures of himself with his friends and family.

A few of them were with whom you guessed was his mother, she looked like him as they took a picture in a café or in a park. The ones with who he told you were his father were more formal, suited, even though he looked like a kid or a teenager. Another couple was with his younger sister, identical smiles on their faces.

The rest of them – with his friends – were haphazard.

In some of them he was clearly in college, his hair styled differently, a more easy air around him as he took silly photos. One of them he was probably at a concert, hair spiked up with yellow sunglasses and next to him was…

“Is that Mr. Jung?” you nearly screeched, drawing Namjoon’s quiet attention. He chuckled as he came to stand behind you.

“Yeah, we were really into the pop music thing then.” he explained.

“Oh my, I wish I could tease him about it,” you said.

“You can after you graduate, you all seem friendly enough.” He said.

You hummed, moving towards the window when he cleared his throat.

“I owe you an apology as well.” He said.

You looked at him. “For what?”

He looked down at his feet, hand rubbing his neck. “I took a leap back there, calling you my girlfriend like that. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty to do that.” He said.

“Oh, its fine, Jungkook backed off.” You said.

“There were better way to do that. I took advantage.” He said.

“Namjoon…really, it’s ok. Neither of you are going to see each other again. I doubt the topic will come back up again.” You said.

“You’re too good to me,” Namjoon argued.

“Not at all,” you cut in. “The truth is…I’m not good at all. If I were, he’d have never left in the first place. if I was good, I…I don’t know…I just don’t…but if I was even a fraction good, I’d deserve someone like you…but I don’t.” you sighed, letting the bitterness and sadness pit together in your throat and flow out.

There was a long silence as you looked through the glass at the twinkling city lights.

You could feel him behind you, close enough to brush against if you turned, the warmth of his breath ruffling the top of your head.

“You deserve the universe, Y/N.” he whispered finally, his breath tickling your ear, “and I’m just a tiny speck in it, but you deserve everything you hope for.”

You took in a deep breath, trying to ease the sudden wobbliness you felt inside you as you turned to face him but he was already pressing up against you, his eyes fluttering close as his hands found your shoulders, pressing you against the glass.

Your head tilted up on its own, mouth parting to let out a gentle gasp that he took as he planted his lips across yours.

Namjoon tasted of popcorn and mints, his lips plush and soft moving softly against yours, barely brushing before he was cocking his head away from you to look at you properly, studying your expression as he so meticulously did.

“Namjoon,” you whispered and he shushed you, long fingers cupping your face and arching you to meet him as he kissed you again, this time deeper and a whole lot more headily.

He craned his neck, tracing you upper lip with soft strokes of his tongue before he nibbled on your lower lip, prompting a shaky gasp. He took the chance to slip his tongue in, running it over yours in gradual flicks and you keened towards him as your back moving from the window. He pressed you harder against it, one of his thighs finding its way between your legs, holding you against it.

You let him overpower you easily, enjoying the way he was circling your mouth, pecking your lips affectionately one second, before diving in and kissing your thoroughly, tongue curving in every crevice and dancing with your own before he went to nipping your swollen lips.

You wound your arms under his shoulder, fingers clutching at them as you felt his leg flex between your legs, a low thud in the pit of your stomach that had you moaning against his plush mouth as you grinded against his muscular leg to relieve some of the delicious burn.

Namjoon pulled away with a growl, looking down at the way you dragged yourself on his leg.

“Fuck, look at that, did I make you that desperate baby?” he asked, his voice raspy and hoarse and dripping with lust.

You answered that with a whimper and you tried to pull him back closer to you but he was already untangling himself from you and walking back, a hand coming up to brush his hair back, looking at your panting form still pressed to the window.

“Walk towards me, baby, slowly.” He said.

Slightly confused, you obeyed, taking somewhat staggering steps towards him which he watched with predatory precision before you realized he was watching your hips.

Stuttering slightly you stood in front of him finally before he was latching on to your waist again, fingers digging into your flesh as he walked backwards, towards what had to be his bedroom.

“I’d carry you, but I want to watch this. You walk like I’ve intoxicated you and it’s so sexy.” He growled, before he was reaching back to open the door. He pulled you through and went to the side before a low ambient light came on, illuminating the room.

“Wow,” you said first thing as you saw his bedroom, making him chuckle darkly.

The room was comfort and opulence in one world. A long closet took an entire wall with a huge writing desk under one of the windows. What took the spotlight was the bed.

King sized, high off the ground and plushy heaven, the bed was THE bed…the kind you saw in magazines and lamented your own over it.

You felt him return to you as he brushed your hair back from your shoulder, mouth hovering over the curve as he let warm breath waft over your skin. “Like?” he asked, softly.

“Love,” you answered and he chuckled again. “Good, because you aren’t going anywhere else tonight.” He said, his mouth latching on to your shoulder, sucking in a pulsating rhythm.

You close your eyes at the feeling, letting him move his hands on your body; brushing over your hips, around your waist, up the sides before he was cupping your breasts, squeezing gently. You dropped your head on his shoulder as he began to gently sway you, fingers tapping and teasing your nipples over the fabric of your shirt. His lips curled up in a smile against your skin, grinding his growing erection against the small of your back, demanding attention.

“Namjoon,” you breathed.

“Hmm,”

“Let me taste you,” you continued, turning in his arms and he bit his lips, eyeing your lips before brushing a thumb over your bottom petal. “I’d love to let you, Y/N. Get on your knees,” he said before he was moving away to sit on the bed. You walked towards him again, this time making sure to sway your hips more for his intense gaze as you bent over to give him a kiss first.

Your fingers wrapped under his jaw as you tilted his face up to yours and he let you, kissing teasingly, flicking his tongue against your playfully as you let your hands trail down to his shirt, tugging at it. He broke away to grab the back of the neck before he was pulling it over his head, revealing the smooth expanse of skin. You started to kneel, kissing a line down his chest and he tossed the shirt away, leaning his weight back on his hands as he allowed you to reach his waistband.

Slipping your fingers under it, you glanced at him through your lashes as you undid the button, tugging the two flaps gently to let the zipper down. He examined your actions before he was bucking his hips up and letting you pull his jeans and the top of his briefs down to free him.

His erection slipped out on your hand, warm and twitching at your touch and you licked you lips, unable to take your eyes off it, admiring the girth and the purplish, red head. Glancing at Namjoon again, who was clearly enjoying your awed gaze, you leant closer, your fingers wrapping around the base to squeeze as gently as he’d squeezed your breasts and licked a strip from the base to the tip, before flicking your tongue right at the slit.

Namjoon smirked at the tease before he leant back all the way on his elbows. “Take your time baby, we have the whole night,” he whispered and you grinned at the usage of reverse psychology before you were slowly sinking on him, making a point to give a good, first suck.

His reaction was obvious, the hitch of breath, raising up back to his hands as he looked down at you and the part of his mouth, tongue peeking out to wet his dry lips.

You blinked innocently, focusing on his dick completely as you close your eyes, lavishing your tongue against the now rock hard members, tracing the vein that wrapped around it. Bobbing your head slowly, you felt his hand move in your hair, blunt nails scrapping against your scalp as he tried to tug you further down on his length.

You let him, slowly pushing yourself down till your nose brushed his pelvic bone, the tip running down to touch the tunnel of your throat.

Namjoon grunted, closing his eyes, brows furrowed as you pulled up again, slobbering over his head before your began to run your palm over it, coating your saliva thickly on the member, making sure to squeeze more at the tip and base before your took his in your mouth again, taking him all the way in as he grasped your hair in his fist, the hold tightening as he began to curse when you swallowed around him.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s it baby,” he said, using his hold to pull you up again.

You sat up on your knees as he cupped your jaw and used the back of his hand to rub off the string of saliva from your mouth as he kissed you again, thoroughly exploring your mouth with his tongue before giving you a sinister smirk.

“My turn, get on the bed and spread your legs over the edge.” He ordered.

You stood up and Namjoon sat up closer to you, quickly undoing your jeans and pulling them down to look at your panties. “Cute,” he smirked at the floral underwear, prompting you to blush but he didn’t tease, pulling you towards the bed and guiding you in the position he wanted.

Your feet hung over the edge of the bed, free to wrap around his as he unbuttoned your shirt, pulling you free from it and unclasped your bra to leave you completely bare in front of him.

When he was finished he didn’t say much, blank facedly roving his eyes on your nakedness before he was dropping to his own knees, spreading your thighs further to expose you to him.

You instinctively shied away and he held your legs open warningly letting his eyes give you a look before he was leaning in to blow air on your touch starved core.

“Ah, Namjoon,” you whispered his name but he didn’t reply, completely engrossed in his work of touching you as he placed a single digit against your clit, making it throb at the pressure of his rough pad.

“Hmm, you get sensitive easily,” he murmured and you nearly whined as he finally began to put himself to work on you.

He was obviously an attentive and observant partner, taking note of how your body writhed or shied away from his ministrations. His tongue pressed experimentally against your fold, dipping into your hole as he let his taste buds collect your arousal before his fingers were spreading your juices over your clit and entrance. He slowly slid in the first digit into your velvet cove before pulling back to slam another in, meticulously watching the way your breath jumped and your body arched, trying to flinch away but his tight hold around your legs kept you in place.

He even watched your wanton moans, sucking your clit into his mouth as he fucked you sadistically you with his fingers, letting your whines pitch up dramatically and then pulling away watching as your chest heaved, breasts juggling from the shivers he’d induced as he edged you repeatedly.

“Please, Namjoon…I can’t…” you groaned finally and he hummed, considering against your folds, thick lips coated in your arousal before he was standing up, fingers still buried deep in your mound as he used his free hand to run his fingers around his lips and chin, sweeping every stroke of your remnant juices on his face into his mouth, sucking perversely on his digits as he eyed you wickedly.

You gulped at the bold act as your pussy clenched in protest around his fingers and he winked, pulling his hand away from your core and he pumped himself, bringing his hips closer to yours, rubbing the tip through your folds which were wet again after the way he’d cleaned you up.

Suddenly, for a split second, clarity shone in his eyes through the lust and he looked at you with something akin to fear.

“Shit…I don’t have condoms,” he said and your own eyes widened.

“What?” you asked.

“I…I haven’t been with anyone since my ex…goddamnit,” he cursed, dropping his head as he ran both hands through his hair.

You hesitated for a bit before biting your lips with another idea. “I’m clean…” you muttered.

Namjoon nodded. “Me too, I got tested after I broke up with her.” He said, clearly thinking that you were implying the oral you’d given and received.

“Is it…ok, if we don’t use them? I’m on birth control...” you murmured, color rising in your cheeks and he looked up, fixing you with an incredulous gaze. “Y/N…”

“I trust you, Joonie.” You whispered, letting your fingers trail down his glimmering chest to his hand, entwining your fingers as you pulled him closer to you, angling your hips towards his.

He staggered closer to you, watching as his dick brushed against your wet folds, still hard and pointing up. He gripped the base, placing the tip right at the entrance of your core before looking at you again.

“Are you sure?” he asked. At you reassuring nod, he closed his eyes, heaving a relieved sigh.

He slipped in quickly inside your heat before halting, eyes opening and fixed on your face as your eyes widened, lips parted and chest rose again from the sharp intake of breath. He grinned, bending over your taut body as he swirled his pink muscle over your hard and aching nipples, using his incisors to place small nips on the top of the buds before coaxing them back into his warm mouth, sucking enthusiastically.

His hips began to pick up pace as he grounded his pelvic bone against your clit for added stimulation with every few strokes.

You arched your back, giving him more access to use his mouth and hands as you raised your arms to clutch at the feather like throw pillows on the bed. You were sure with the slow but steady pace he was going, you were going to lose your damn mind and rip one.

“Namjoon, please,”

He let go of your nipple with a lewd pop as he eyed you, “Please what, baby,” he said and if possible his hips slowed more.

You clutched at his shoulder, letting one slide over to dig in your desperate claws.

“Harder…please…”

Namjoon hissed at your nails but stayed focused, “What do you want from me, baby?”

You were nearly crying now from the inability to reach your high, the release he was dangling in front of you. “Please fuck me harder…I need to come.” You begged finally and he smiled, gently.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He straightened from your torso, gripping your calves before he was pushing them up to your chest, hands coming up to clench his sheet as he pressed his forehead to your as he began to pound into you, hips slamming into you with wild abandon of a man who’d been un-caged after years.

Your body hiked up with every thrust of his powerful hips and you clung to him, scared you’d shatter with the force of love –making.

Namjoon’s swollen lips kept spewing profanities, broken praises and heavy pants that washed over you as he groaned out your name, dirty promises following of what he wanted to do to you.

“Want – want to feel you – come…on my dick,” he moaned, eyes watching the way his cock pistoned in and out of your now swollen pussy.

His hand trailed down to your cunt, locating your clit between your thighs as he circled it with his hand, fast and unabashed in his need to feel you clench on him and the glint in his eyes as he looked back up at you pushed you over the edge, your muscles contracting and squeezing his length and your hands shooting up to pull him to you in a heavy, hot kiss that he immediately took over, tongue pushing into your mouth. You sucked at the wet muscle, feeling his hips turn sloppier, frantically pumping him inside you as he chased his own release.

His head dropped down to the crook of your neck, sucking at the skin as he let out a loud moan of your name, followed by appreciative hums as he rode out your highs, soft words of reassurance echoing in your ears as he pulled away from you, looking down at the mess on his and your skin from your mixed juices.

“Be right back,” he said, climbing off the bed while you reached up and grabbed the throw pillow, tucking it under your head.

By the time, Namjoon came back with a towel to clean you up; you were already out like a light.

The smell of fresh bitter coffee woke you up as you turned over to your back in the unfamiliar bed. For a moment, you dazedly rubbed your eyes. The placement of the window was wrong, making the light hit the floors on either side of the king sized bed, instead of the bed itself. Were you in Jungkook’s apartment?

It took you a split second to realize that couldn’t have been since he had broken up with you. you bundled up the comforter to your bare chest as the door to the room swung open, revealing Namjoon, balancing a tray in one hand as he shut the door with another, turning before he paused, seeming surprised that you were already awake.

He had put on a black t-shirt over some sweats as he moved towards your awkward frame, placing the coffee tray on the nightstand next to your side.

“Good morning,” he said, sitting at the end of the bed, a decent distance from you. He probably could sense the post coital tension in the air was trying to make you feel comfortable.

“Hi,” you said softly, glancing at the cup. “Is that for me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I remembered you take sugar and milk so I added some. If you want more, just tell me,” he said.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, hesitant to drop the covers and reach for the cup.

Namjoon glanced at you once more before he stood up.

“So, um, I’ll let you��yeah, get dressed. The bathroom is through there, you can shower and I’ll leave out a hoodie for you to have. If you want we can have breakfast.” He said before he was walking out the door, leaving you alone.

You stood under Namjoon’s paneled shower, letting the exhaustion and tension wash away from your shoulders as you tilted your head down, watching the soapy residue of his shampoo pool around your feet till you heard him call out that he’d laid out clothes and then the slam of the door shutting again.

You shut off the water and grabbed a towel, hurriedly drying up and leaving the bathroom to see he’d put out a simple black hoodie out. It was almost your size, indicating he’d probably grown out of it.

Not wanting to put on the underwear from last night again, you shoved the bra in the bag and pulled on your jeans, the shirt and his hoodie on top, going to throw the towel in the hamper before leaving. Your aim was, as usual off and instead of the hamper, it hit the desk under his window, scattering his pen stand and the book he’d left precariously on the side. It fell over; open and you hurried over, gathering the pens and shoving them back before picking up the book to place it safely back where it was.

Even as you rose, the pages of the book fluttered and a small folded up paper fell out again.

You rolled my eyes, huffing and bending down to pick it up again to see that it wasn’t a paper after all, it was a folded photograph.

For a moment you could’ve sworn you heard Yerin speak in my head that you shouldn’t invade his privacy, it wasn’t your business. Ignoring that small voice, you slipped my finger in the fold and straightened it out, holding it open.

As usual your eyes trained on Namjoon and his rare full dimpled, all teeth revealed grin as he held up what was obviously a Polaroid camera to take the photo. You smiled too, a natural reaction now to any of Namjoon’s smiles.

He was obviously on vacation; he was on a beach with small huts on them, the water crystalline and skies bright.

It was when your eyes moved to the person standing next to him that made your smile fade away in shocked horror.

Small doe eyes squinting up in the sun, a cheeky smile spread over her pale lips as she would her arms around Namjoon’s, stood none other than Seulgi. Your mouth dropped open, in an attempt to gasp or to screech, the world would never know as you stood there frozen, your hyper mind now putting jumble pieces together.

Namjoon’s ex was Seulgi, the woman who he had said was in the same work he was in which was why he had to keep seeing her around…Seulgi was the assistant of the man who’d published his book.

But…but it couldn’t be…Mr. Jung had said that his ex had been mean, a horrible person to him…

The Seulgi you knew was sweet, kind…

No, Mr. Jung had said that she had been good on the surface…Seulgi from the party was the persona she showed everyone.

Even before your mind could register the fact that you got played, there was a knock and Namjoon stuck his head in.

“Hey, are you...ok – where did you get that?” he said, the concern fading from his voice as his eyes found the snapshot in your hands.

His eyes bugged, nostrils flared as his eyes went cold, entering the room to march over to you, snatching the photo out of your hands to glare at you.

“What do you think you’re doing, going through my things?” he snapped.

“I wasn’t…I was just…I dropped the towel on it and the book fell. I wasn’t snooping, I swear.” You stammered, quailing under Namjoon’s height when his eyes softened and he sighed, a hand coming up to rub at his face.

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have snapped.” He said, wearily.

You stared up at him, still wary from the sudden change in his demeanor as he stared sadly at the photograph. Something like guilt was stirring up in your stomach. He was so obviously still in love with her and no matter how bad Seulgi was, she had to be too…you couldn’t not be in love with Namjoon.

Seulgi didn’t know you knew Namjoon. She had no reason to make it out that she was a victim.

“Namjoon,” you whispered to tell him your rumination and your heart ached.

It wasn’t fair. You had never felt as close to Namjoon before. Yes, he was mysterious and enigmatic and he drew you in from the start…even while you were looking at his pictures online. He could make you feel safe and comfortable around himself with little to no effort and yet he had his ways of remaining aloof, distant and coldly detached. The only time he spoke of his past love was when he wanted to make a point, speaking of her as if she was an entity he had withdrawn from, never giving her a name or identity.

But standing here, in his apartment, you had a peek into the real Kim Namjoon, the softer, human man underneath the Author who could see past the veils of reality. Was it so wrong to want more?

Namjoon was looking at you, waiting for you to talk.

“What…what do you feel for her now?” you asked, trying not to seem too guilty. His inquisitive eyes would definitely detect something wrong.

“What do you mean? I feel nothing for her anymore. She’s just a part of my past.” He said.

“Then why do you still keep her photo around…? You said you didn’t like clutter, emotional or physical.”

You knew you were coming off as pushy, but you just couldn’t stop.

“Y/N, stop…where is this coming from?” he snapped, his eyes back to cold.

“I’ve…met her.” You whispered and he froze, face going blank as he stared at you. “You what?” he asked softly.

“I…at the fundraiser…I met her and we talked…”

“And she told you how much of a fly away disappointment I was, did she?” he sneered. You didn’t have to look at his clenching arm to know he’d balled up the photograph by now.

“No! No, she didn’t…I think…she misses you,” you continued.

Namjoon raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Is that what she told you, Y/N? Is that what she implied? Let me tell you, Miss Y/L/N,” he said, drawing closer and you flinched. “You know nothing about her. You don’t know the way she can get inside your mind and fuck with it. Don’t talk about think you don’t understand.” He said, simply, starting to turn away.

“But you need to get over her…just talk to her,” you pressed but he stopped you by facing you completely, fixing you with an icy glare.

“I am over her. I don’t need to talk things out to get over her. Talking to the people who made it very clear what they thought of you just to get a masochistic kick out of it, is for juvenile people like you.” he said and you pulled away finally, you eyes dropping from his.

“You’re right.” You said. You blinked twice. Ok, so that was how he felt. “I think I should go now. Thank you for all the advice you’ve given me and all the wonderful walks around the city. Goodbye Mr. Kim,” you said formally, looking up to see him looking sad again.

“Y/N…I didn’t,” he began but you cut him off. “Enjoy the rest of your day, I’ll give the hoodie to Mr. Jung to return to you and don’t worry I won’t tell anyone what happened last night.” You said, already walking past him to leave his apartment. “Let me drive you,” he started again but you shook your head. “I can find my own way.”

He didn’t stop you and you didn’t expect him to. Namjoon didn’t like clutter and right now that was exactly what you were to him, you felt as you put on your shoes. You caught him standing at the end of the foyer hallway, watching but you didn’t give him another look as you left the apartment, pulling his door close after you.

Once outside, you thanked your stars that you still had battery in your phone as you quickly ordered a taxi.

Entering your own apartment, you heaved a homely sigh of your own before grunting. Why did that have to remind you of him as well? It was likely you were never going to see the mysterious Kim Namjoon again. You would have to get over it and prepare for your graduation and your life after it which started in approximately – you glanced at your calendar – 7 days.

You stood in the middle of your living room for a few minutes, looking out the window, brushing away surprise tears that had no business being there. Namjoon wasn’t Jungkook, then why were you crying for him?

He was right. People did make clear what they thought of you one way or another – just like he himself had done. You had every right to stop thinking of him.

You moved to your charger and plugged in your phone, seeing a message from Namjoon already, asking if you had gotten safe that you sent a yes to before deleting it. The next was from Yerin, asking why Jungkook had been calling and texting her about who your new boyfriend was. You replied that you’ll tell her later and that you needed to sleep. The next was from Jungkook, asking if he could talk that you deleted without even opening it and the last was from Mr. Jung, asking if he could read an excerpt from your book.

You sighed, contemplating how to answer it when your eyes fell on your laptop.

Might as well…

You marched to it determinedly, booting it up and opening your document as you placed your fingers resolutely on the keys.

Flutters of laughter, shushing of teachers, flash photography from parents, and the genuine air of pride…

A bright beam lit up your face as you saw Yerin rushing to you, arm thrown wide open as she hugged you full force, her parents following with similar grins as they shook hands with your own parents.

“Oh my god, we’re here…we’re freaking graduating!” she practically screamed in your ear and you laughed, squeezing her back, as you turned to greet her parents with a polite smile and answered their questions.

“Did you get your speech? I hope you didn’t forget it.” Yerin urged and you patted the pocket of the denim jacket you were wearing under the graduation gown to show her you had safely tucked it there.

Of course, you had also memorized it.

Your mother gushed about the fact that you had been selected as this year’s valedictorian and reached up to correct your hair under the cap.

“Oh mom, please,” you whined, swatting at her hand as the supervising teacher came up to your group.

“Girls, in line please, and Miss Y/L/N, once you’re done in the lineup; please stay backstage for your speech.” Mr. Park said haggardly before moving off to tell other to get in line as well.

You and Yerin waved to your parents who whispered they’ll get the best seats before you were lining alphabetically.

You clapped your hands off as Yerin went to get her degree and nearly sweated them off when it was your turn.

Heart thudding, you climbed up to the platform stage and smiled blindly when Mr. Sihyuk handed you the roll of paper that you had worked for all these months. You whispered a thank you and faced the flashing cameras, unable to tell which one came from your family before the lady next to the headmaster was ushering you away and around the stage to wait for your speech.

Great, one down one to go, you told yourself. Oh how you wish…

No, you did not want to be thinking of him right now…

“Ready?” you turned to see Mr. Jung standing next to you, lips quirked when he saw you jump.

“Yeah, I mean yes, I think so…I hope so,” you said.

“You’ll be fine, just remember the pauses and breathe.” He said before checking his watch. “I need to go. Best of luck, Y/N and congratulations.” He said before he was ducking out from under the curtain put up to hide the backstage from the lights.

Soon enough, I walked to the podium set up for me as one of the technicians finished his adjustments.

“Good evening, teachers, students, notable alumni and all the parents gathered here today for this joyous event.” You began, making a small bow to everyone seated on their particular dais.

“I could begin this valedictorian speech like any of the ones that I have watched online…and heavily taken inspiration from because I have never done this before,” I said and there was smattering of chuckles echoing around the room.

“Or I can take new leaf, tell you about a few of my experiences and tell you about how they helped me become a better person somehow…and for those of you interested; a writer.”

You looked up from your papers with a small smile when you felt his gaze.

He was sitting on the second row, one of the special guests invited you noted and even though his face was clear of expression you could see the small tell tales of a smile brewing behind his dark wise eyes.

Your mouth parted a little and he raised his eyebrow, giving you a small nod indicating you to carry on.

You hurriedly looked down again.

“As I was saying, telling you all the same recycled things about how hard work and focus is all you need in life to succeed isn’t how I am going to give you my speech. I am going to give you the complete opposite. I want you all…to take it a little easy on yourselves.” You said, looking up again, but not directly at him.

“I know, it seems strange, isn’t taking it easy procrastinating and not being the best? Maybe, but you know what it is in another way? It’s not giving you stress. You don’t have to beat yourself over taking longer to complete a deadline, or getting a job or even coping with losses in life…and love.” You glanced once to where he was sitting.

“A wise person once told me that we writers are always scared of our works because we view it as a profession…something to worry about. Or that we’re just scared nobody would like it since it’s not really original. They told me, it might not be original…but it’s still new…because no one has heard it the way you want to tell it. The same way, you cannot and should not be worried about how other are living their lives…no one is living it the way you are. Try being you first, before just personnel…try rereading your chapters before you burn them all…”

You finally met his steady gaze.

“Maybe just before you burn, you’ll find something worth keeping in them.”

You folded your paper as you thanked the audience as applause broke out through the room. Smiling as you exited the stage, you were met first by your parents.

“That was an amazing speech, sweetie. Where did you get the inspiration?”

You glanced over their shoulder to see Namjoon already speaking to Mr. Jung. “Just…came flying my way,” you shrugged before letting them get to the buffet as you tried to locate your friends.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Seulgi walking over to you, smiling as she engulfed you in a hug which you stiffly returned. Oh god, she was here…how were you supposed to act? Do you pretend you didn’t know? Do you brush her off? Do you act normal?

“Your speech was A+ material; I can see why they chose you. It was so bizarre though, the way you went off key there. It was out of the norm.” she said.

“Oh, yeah, my inspiration was kind of bizarre too.” you nervously chuckled.

“I could see that. Listen, are you doing something with your friends after this? I know, silly question but I want to take you out for drinks…real drinks, if you know what I mean.” She laughed and you hummed, looking around the room for Yerin or Taehyung or anyone you knew when you heard someone else call your name too.

You sighed, turning to see Jungkook rushing over to you. “You didn’t answer my texts.” He said.

“Yeah, within reason,” you gritted out. Seulgi looked at Jungkook then at you. “Is he the ex?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and Jungkook sighed too reaching for your arm.

“Baby, I just need you to listen to me once,” he urged. You shook his hand off roughly. “I did listen to you, Kook. I heard you loud and clear. You got what you wanted. Now just leave me alone, ok?” you said.

“Baby…”

“Don’t call her that,” Seulgi warned, “It’s graduation, ok? Let’s not create a scene.” She said, her tone becoming commanding. “Sure, so she can run off to her boyfriend?” Jungkook scoffed.

“Don’t do this, Jungkook.” You snapped.

You backed away from their stare off. Jungkook was so stubborn, he never listened to anyone if he could help it and right now you just did not want to deal with this. Seulgi looked at you. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.” She said her voice sure and you suspected even condescending.

“Of course she does, there he is!” Jungkook stretched out his hand, a finger already up accusatorily and all of you turned to see where he was pointing, although you were pretty sure.

Namjoon was standing near the guests, Jung next to him as they spoke to a tall, older man with salt-pepper hair. When he felt the gaze of three people looking straight at him, he glanced up, eyes first meeting your panicked once, then sliding to Jungkook’s cocky ones and then lastly found Seulgi’s shocked, and rapidly becoming angry ones.

He stood there for a second, analyzing the situation before he was leaning towards his friend, muttering urgently in his ear as they both turned to talk to the man again.

“What do you mean, that’s her boyfriend? He can’t be her boyfriend. That’s Kim Namjoon!” Seulgi snapped, bringing Jungkook’s and your attention back to her.

“I know what I’m talking about, ok? He was at the movies with her and he called her his girlfriend.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and you had never wanted to claw them out than now.

Seulgi turned to look at you, eyebrows raised and teeth bared when you heard them.

“Mr. Jeon, can I help you with something?”

The small group of destruction turned to look at the approaching men. Mr. Jung was staring pointedly at Jungkook and he looked back defiantly before realizing his limits. His shoulders deflated as he let out a small, “No, Mr. Jung,” he said before giving you one last, if possible with his nerve, hurt look before turning on his heel and leaving.

Jung followed his with his eyes before glancing once at you and Seulgi, shooting her a nasty smile, “Good to see you again,” he mocked before looking at Namjoon, who nodded at his friend. Without another word, he turned and left as well, leaving you with the two exes.

“Long time no see, Seulgi,” Namjoon began.

“Whose fault was that?” She shot back.

“Can you really blame me?” Namjoon said.

They stared at each other and you had to say that you were impressed. None of them were willing to give up, even as Seulgi portrayed righteous anger flawlessly. Namjoon had a more pleasant countenance, but you knew it was to piss her off more than anything.

Seulgi suddenly glanced at you. “So, her?” she asked.

In another time, you’d have been pissed at how degrading she sounded when minutes earlier; you had been ‘A+ material’. Guess, Hoseok had been right, after all. Internally, Seulgi was really petty and horrible.

“Yes, her…what are you judging about us, exactly, this time?”

“Oh, just the fact that you down-graded so spectacularly,”

“You need a brush up on your vocabulary, Seulgi. I think you mean upgrade.” Namjoon returned.

You gaped at him. What was he even doing?

Seulgi bit her lip, her chin jutting out in a pout. “Namjoon please, don’t you see you’re hurting me? this…this has to end. I mean, I know I said a few things that you felt were wrong but you should’ve talked to me. you should’ve told me you were hurt. You shouldn’t have just left.” She said.

Namjoon took one step closer to her and dipped his volume.

“You told me you thought my work was going to be thrashed because I sounded like a teenage boy who was still high on stupid dreams. You told me I was never going to amount to anything. You sucked and sucked my morale, my esteem out of me; you told me you were better off without me so you could succeed without having to drag me along. Did I miss anything?”

Namjoon was still speaking quietly; not drawing attention as you stared at Seulgi is horror. How could such a pretty face be so venomous?

“I think you see why I picked her, Seulgi. Compared to you, she is a goddess walking the earth.” he said and that’s when you walked away.

Bursting out from the hall, you leaned against one of the brick walls, taking in deep breaths to calm your chaotic mind and erratic heart. What had just happened? Did you finally stand up to Jungkook without wanting to cry? Did Namjoon finally talk to his poisonous ex and you witnessed it?

So much…and at graduation…the one day you wanted to pass without event.

“So, that was quite the speech.”

You glanced to your side to see Namjoon standing near the door you had exited, the lighting from the hall dousing him in a spotlight.

You studied him for a bit. He was in a complete black suit tonight; dark gold hair fluffed a little to reveal his forehead. The gold accents on his collar shone from the light he was standing in.

You had probably lost your mind but you couldn’t help but think he looked damn right sexy at the moment.

It took you a moment to use your dry mouth. “Thanks,” you breathed as he walked over to lean against the wall next to you.

You both stayed silent for a while, watching the smattering of stars still visible in the night sky.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“I guess, what about you?” you countered.

There was silence before he turned to give you a smile. “I feel good.”

You nodded before you sighed, pulling away from the wall. “Thanks for getting to me back there, she would’ve clawed me up.” You said, trying to get back to the door when he spoke up.

“I threw the photo away.”

You paused, turning to look at him.

“I threw that photo away…the day you left.” He said.

“Oh…good for you, right?” you asked.

“I thought so too, but I didn’t realize it until now.”

You looked at him, puzzled.

“When people are hurt, they feel like they have to close off, to prevent being hurt again. You become scared to get attached. You think the pain they felt was worth knowing the secrets to guarding your heart but you miss that beauty of having your heart racing again when it’s been still for so long.” He quoted.

“I wrote that.” You whispered.

“You did.” He smiled, “After I think you left my home, not that I can blame…or deny the observation.” He turned his head towards you.

“Do you know why Hoseok sent you to me? He could’ve sent you to any number of authors to get audited but why seek me out?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“You remind us of me. You’re exactly how I used to be when I was writing my first draft. I met Seulgi when I was doing the rounds of publishers to get printed. I honestly don’t know why she got together with me – at this point I don’t remember what I myself saw in her but once I got in with her boss, she was ecstatic. She was kind, supportive, everything I could’ve asked for before I started work on my second book. Suddenly I was a child, I had no prospects, no idea what to give to readers. I won’t tell you all the gory details but she hurt more than just my heart. I couldn’t write after I left her.” He chuckled bitterly.

“I took that trip to find myself…or rather get myself back. When I met you, I felt like if I could help you, I’d be doing the both of us a favor. You’d have a supportive, encouraging person who would listen to you with no intention of downgrading you and I would have my vision back. You helped me more than you know, Y/N.”

“Of course, then I had to go ruin it that day. I…I don’t regret what we did…not at all. If anything,” he suddenly cleared his throat. “I mean, that when I said those things, I want you to know I was not aiming them at you. I get…I get stupid when it comes to her. I become defensive, angry, and I know I did it because I had no closure. You were right. You were right along. So when you left, when I realized what I’d done, the first thing I did was to throw that damn thing in the bin.”

“I even wanted to call you but I thought…I didn’t deserve to if I was just going to go back to square one when you brought her up. You didn’t deserve to have another relationship where you had to be disappointed. Of course, not seeing you for so long did make me weak to temptation. When Hoseok invited me tonight, I couldn’t say no, especially since he said you’d be valedictorian. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint and you didn’t.”

He grinned, the full grin I had seen in the picture.

“Tonight, this altercation with her made me see that I was being stupid, holding on to hurt when the person causing it did not even care. Why should I be holding back…when my heart is willing to race again?” he whispered.

His hand brushed your wrist, sweeping under the graduation gown till he curled his arm around your waist, pulling you to him.

“What are you saying?” you questioned.

“I’m saying I’m sorry that I was an idiot and that I am not anymore. I’m saying that you make my heart race, Y/N and if I’m not very wrong, I make yours as well. I’m saying that I would like to pursue this, properly this time. I’m asking, would you be willing to take a chance with me?”

Very slowly, keeping your eyes locked on his, you nodded.

Namjoon kissed you, hard, hand coming up to pull your graduation cap off your head before he was pushing you back against the wall, his heart thudding against yours.

Mouth open to allow him to sweep his tongue in, you moaned feeling him reciprocate as he grinded against you breathlessly before pulling away, eye blown open.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Of course, now,” you said, winding your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Your place or mine?”

[bigherosixfeels]

Hello! You can make a fanfic about Karmi,you could write, please, a story where maybe her mother does not support her being a biotechnologist and they argue and she ends up in the bad-tempered lab and ends up talking to Honey or Baymax and about how her father is support. Thank you!

I was already planning on having Honey Lemon being the one to comfort her, but now that we know they get along, I’m even more excited about this!!

—

Needed Support

Fandom: Big Hero 6: The Series

Rating: K

Characters: Karmi and Honey Lemon

Word Count: 2,121

Summary: Honey Lemon comforts Karmi after she has an argument with her mother

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“Why don’t you ever want to hear about myprogress at Sycorax?! I created a serum that cured Orso Knox and you barelyacknowledged that!

“You know how I feel about all this. You’rerushing into this bio-stuff too quickly. It wasn’t that long ago that you gotaccepted into SFIT and now you’re interning at some new business? You’re toocooped up in your labs all day.”

“Doing important research that will shape thefuture! All of this means so much to me and you don’t care! You never have!”

“I never said I didn’t care. I just think youneed to be smart about this. Don’t let all of this be the only thing you do inlife. There’s a big world out there. Make some friends…outside of yourviruses.”

 —

It may not have been their worst argument, butit wasn’t exactly the best start to Karmi’s morning. While having breakfastwith her parents, her father asked about her most recent work at Sycorax. Stillfull of pride to being an intern for Liv Amara, Karmi immediately went into detailabout how she, Liv and Chris managed to stop the Mayoi from attacking SanFransokyo. As she was telling this thrilling tale, she noticed how differenther parents’ reactions were.

Her father was fully invested; nodding andsmiling at what his daughter had to say. But each time she glanced over to hermom, she was either paying attention to the remainder of her breakfast orchecking the time on her watch. By the time Karmi was explaining how the serumwas made, she watched as her mother got up from her chair, hurriedly going intothe kitchen to wash off her plate. Instead of returning to the table to listento the rest of Karmi’s story, she went upstairs to grab her briefcase for work.

Her actions weren’t surprising to Karmi, but itleft an nagging pang in her chest. Nonetheless, she finished the conversationwith her dad who congratulated her on her hard work. He made sure to tell herhow proud he was, bringing a temporary smile to his daughter’s face.

It faded the second her mother came back downstairs,announcing that she was going to work. Karmi could admit now that she probablyshould have voiced her dismay over her mom’s lack of enthusiasm later thisevening. Yet, in the moment she decided to confront her about how she wishedshe would have been more engaged in the conversation rather than rushing off togo to work. It was admittedly a bit selfish on her part. She knew her motherworked hard to provide for the family. San Fransokyo traffic was unpredictable.Trying to talk to her about something like this when one foot was practicallyout the door wasn’t a wise move. Not only because her mom was in a hurryanyway, but also because they’ve had talks like this before.

Unlike her father, her mother rarely asked abouther schoolwork. When she asked how school was going, she was more curious aboutwhether or not she was making friends than scientific breakthroughs. She knewher mom meant well and wanted her to be more social, but that wasn’t a concernto Karmi. In the past, classmates tended to let her down, but science neverdid. Over her years of school, Karmi realized she didn’t need friends to makeher happy. She was perfectly content growing pathogens and now discoveringcures for the recent monsters that had been popping up in the city for whateverreason.

As anticipated, an argument followed. Neither ofthem raised their voices too high, but it ended on a sour note. Karmi’s momstormed out of the house, slamming the door on her way out. After trying tokeep her emotions from spilling over, Karmi rejected her father’s offer ofdriving her to school, preferring some alone time on a trolley.

The fight was still bothering her as she walkedonto campus. Karmi held onto herself, fingernails pressing against her arms.She was at a point where she knew tears weren’t going to fall, but anger stillbubbled in her veins. All she wanted was for class to be a decent distraction.To go to her lab later. To be alone. She had the feeling that it wouldbe a tense evening at home.

As she walked through the halls, she unknowinglypassed by the Nerd Lab. While doing so, she had paid no attention to who wascurrently exiting the room.

Honey Lemon absentmindedly hummed to herself.Being the morning person she was, she had already stopped by her lab to work ona project before her first class. With that done and none of her friends beingaround, she decided to get going to her class a little early.

When leaving the Nerd Lab, she happened tonotice Karmi passing by. Her face instantly lit up seeing the biotech genius.They hadn’t talked much since they cured Globby together.

“Hi, bio bestie!” She cheerfully greeted.

Karmi stopped walking. No. Not now. Of all thetimes for Honey to spot her in the hallway, why did it have to be now?

It’s not that Karmi didn’t like Honey Lemon. Sheenjoyed working with her when they found a cure for Globby. She was nice totalk to. She was friendly. Very friendly. At times, she was too bubbly andoverly optimistic, but she always meant well.

Her personality was something Karmi still wasn’tused to. She’s never been around someone as energetic as Honey. It didn’t takelong for her to figure out how fitting her nickname was. While a part of hercould admire her positive attitude, it was off-putting considering she’d ratherbe by herself.

Despite that, she didn’t want to be rude andkeep walking. Karmi could pretend she didn’t hear Honey, but that would onlyraise concerns. Forcing a small grin, Karmi turned to face the chemist.

“H-hi, Honey Lemon.” She raised a hand up togive her a little wave. Hoping that that would be all, Karmi quickly turnedaway.

The second she continued walking, she could hearthe heels of Honey’s shoes clicking in her direction. She caught up to Karmi,beaming down at the younger girl.

“It’s been awhile since we talked. What’s new?”Honey was going to eagerly wait for a response, but something about Karmilooked off. The way she clung onto herself and how her eyebrows were slightlyknitted together were huge giveaways that something was wrong. That on top withher looking away with a frown didn’t sit well. “Is everything okay?”

Again, Karmi stopped walking. She didn’t want toget into what happened earlier this morning. She wasn’t in the mood to vent toanyone. Especially someone she hardly knew. “I’m fine.” She lied, makingherself smile to ease Honey’s worries. “Just going to my lab.”

Unfortunately for her, Honey didn’t buy it. Shecould always tell when someone was feeling down.

“Hey, you can talk to me if you need to.”

“Really, I’m ok-”

“Karmi. You helped me when I needed it forfinding a cure for Globby. Now why don’t you let me help you?”

Karmi froze. She looked down at the floor,wondering if she heard Honey correctly. A fellow classmate offering help to herwas such a foreign concept. She was used to dealing with her problems on herown. To being ignored and invisible to those around her. Honey wanting tolisten to her troubles shouldn’t have been all that surprising. The older girlthought of her as a “bestie” after all.

While they got along great, Karmi still didn’tview Honey as anything more than a classmate. Maybe it was because she was goodfriends with Hiro. Maybe it was because they didn’t see each other much due tohaving different classes. But she knew Honey enough to know that she wasn’tgoing to let her walk off without an explanation.

“I just…got into an argument with my mom thismorning.” Karmi mumbled. “No big deal.”

Honey Lemon frowned. She was glad that Karmiopened up to her, but she could tell how much this was upsetting her. From thedeep scowl growing on her face to her fingers shaking as they clenched harderon her arms, she could tell it was bothering Karmi.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you twowill work things out though.”

Karmi scoffed. “It won’t. We’ve had fights likethese before and they never get resolved. Anytime I talk about what I’m workingon either here or at Sycorax, she never wants to listen. She thinks I’m tooinvested in my studies and is more concerned about my social life.” Karmi letout a huge, frustrated sigh. “I’ve tried telling her that I’m more interestedin working, but does she listen? No.”

She still would have preferred her space, butventing was helping somewhat. Karmi could feel her tension easing, but it wasstill present. She didn’t know why she had decided to reveal so much personalinformation to Honey. She insisted on wanting to help, but would she care nowthat she knew? Or understand?

“I’m sure your mother cares about what you do,”Honey responded. “From the sounds of it, it seems that she wants you–”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Karmiinterrupted. The last thing she wanted was for Honey to finish her naive statement.“I’ve heard more times than I can count from her. ‘Make some friends.’ ‘Yourviruses aren’t much for company.’ ‘Staying in your lab all day isn’t good foryou.’” She remarked in a mocking tone. Pinching the bridge of her nose, shecontinued. “In her own way, she means well. That I understand too. I just wishthat when I talked about what I’m doing, she was more…attentive. That’s all.That’s not too much to ask for, is it?”

Honey gently reached out to Karmi, placing ahand on her shoulder. She flinched at first, but allowed herself to look upHoney. She was smiling, but it wasn’t the usual, cheery one she almost alwayshad. It was warm and comforting. Karmi’s shoulders lowered, her grip on herarms loosening.

“Of course not. Biotech is something you’rereally passionate about. It makes you excited and you want to share thatexcitement. I’m the exact same way with chemistry!” Honey exclaimed. “You dohave someone to talk to about all this, don’t you?”

Karmi nodded. “My dad. He’s always been sosupportive. I know that when I have something to tell him, he’ll listen andwant to know all sorts of details. He may not understand all the scientificjargon, but he always hears me out. He’s the best.” The smile that had made itsway on her face faded the second she thought about her mom again. “I don’tknow. I guess that’s what I want my mom to be like too. I don’t expect her toknow what I’m talking about, but it’d be nice if she was as intrigued as mydad.” “Well, maybe you should try telling her that.”

“…I-I’ve wanted to. But I don’t like arguingwith her. Why did I even bother trying to confront her this morning? I knewshe wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t a good time when she was trying to go to work.”

“Try telling her how you feel when it isa good time,” Honey encouraged. “When both you and her aren’t busy. Patchthings up. Maybe this is all some misunderstanding. If you’re both open andhonest, you should be able to find common ground.”

Karmi took Honey’s words into consideration.These days, talking to her mom was like pulling teeth, but perhaps Honey made agood point. When she argued, Karmi only mentioned what her mom seemed to notcare about. Things only escalated worse from there until one or both of themstormed off. She was tired of it. She was sure her mother was tired of it too.They needed to figure things out sooner or later. Sooner being the betteroption.

“Okay…I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Without warning, Honey wrapped her arms tightlyaround the biotech major. The embrace was suffocating, not to mention a littleembarrassing due to being in the halls. Karmi nearly forgot how much of ahugger Honey Lemon was. She had told Honey that she wasn’t a hugger before.Either that slipped her mind or she chose to ignore it in an attempt to comforther. Whatever the case was, Karmi reluctantly leaned into the hug. Maybe alittle support from someone else was needed after all.

“Thanks.”

—

I really like how this one turned out!! I definitely wanted to get this fic out and done before season 2 started, but I’m actually glad I didn’t. Season 2 gave me more stuff about Karmi to work with for this fic and since her and Honey get along so well, it made this even better imo!! I loved seeing their interactions in Nega-Globby!

I do hope that at some point in this series we get to meet Karmi’s family (as well as the nerd gang’s family PLEASE LET US MEET THEM!!!) While it’s hard to guess what Karmi’s family life is like, I do hope she has parents that love and care about her. I can see at least one of them being a little unsure about what she wants to do, but still approve of it at the end of the day. Only time will tell (possibly)

Anywho, I guess that’s it. Thanks for the request @ficsinhistory I really enjoyed writing it!! :D