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warmblanketwhump · 3 years ago

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flight plan

disclaimer: this takes place in pre-you-know-what times - if you’re actually sick, do not do what B does here. alright, on to the suffering :)

Back when B booked their flight, the 4 am boarding time and 2 layovers seemed like a great exchange for saving a few hundred dollars while flying across the country. But now, with a head that feels like it was stuffed with cotton, a gate change that forced their leadened body to trek across the entire airport, and an additional 3-hour delay before their final 4-hour flight, they were beginning to question their penny-pinching ways.

In a nearby terminal, a fussy infant screamed, and it took everything for B not to scream back at them: I hate it here too! Their nerves were frayed, their whole body ached to the bone, and their head felt like it was in a vise grip.

It hadn’t felt this bad this morning - heck, they wouldn’t have left if they’d felt this bad - but the changing cabin pressure and constant temperature shifts from hot, stuffy terminals to icy planes were wreaking havoc on their poor, rapidly sickening body. They’d been up for 18 hours. And now, they had no choice but to ride it out and power through the last leg. They hug the paper cup of tea they’d grabbed at a nearby cafe close to their chest, trying to hold back their frustrated tears.

They just wanted to be home.

B shifts on the hard terminal seat as they wrap up a third agonizing hour of waiting, willing the passengers ahead of them to board more quickly so they could just get home to A, who they’d been missing all week. But the miserable minutes ticked by, and B kept having to blow their tender nose with their precious (and dangerously dwindling) travel pack of tissues. As they massage their aching sinuses, B feels a tap on their shoulder. Turning, they recognize a fellow passenger from their previous flight extending another full pack their way.

“Here. You need these more than I do.” They extend the gift, and B gratefully accepts. The stranger nods, and heads back to their luggage to wait out the boarding process.

After what feels like an hour, B’s group is finally able to board the flight. From their boarding pass, they knew they’d be stuck in the middle seat, but their heart lifts a bit when they see their Kleenex-wielding savior in the aisle seat next to theirs, who waves and gives them a small smile as they let them through. On the window seat side, a sour-looking individual scans them up and down, raising an eyebrow when B coughs roughly in their elbow.

“Sorry…” B sniffles. The sour-faced person rolls their eyes and turns their attention to the window, and B shrinks in their seat, embarrassed.

“Just want to be home, right?” Their aisle friend smiles sympathetically, and B nods weakly. “I know the feeling. Name’s C.”

B introduces themselves, and the two make amicable small talk during the pre-flight checklist, finding out that they both called their destination city home. As the plane takes flight, B winces - the pressure change makes their head ache, and their sinuses feel like they’re going to explode, along with their ears. The dry air of the plane irritates their chapped nose, and they close their eyes and grip the armrest till their knuckles bleach, trying to breathe through the pain and praying it doesn't get worse.

It gets worse. On top of their pounding head and runny nose, B discovers like all the other planes, this one's an icebox. Once they reach cruising altitude, B apologetically shuffles by C to head to the bathroom, hoping that by some chance it’s warmer in there. In the dim light, B’s stares at their haggard reflection – their feverish eyes are glazed and watery, their raw nose is bright red, and their peaked face is wan and drawn, coated with a sheen of sweat. Hopefully A would still recognize them, they thought humorlessly.

The bathroom is just as frigid, and B’s stuck with a stream of lukewarm water that barely heats their cold hands. Back in their seat, the throbbing headache continues to build behind their eyes, and their throat desperately cries out for something to drink.

As if they could hear their thoughts, C leans over and pulls a small bottle of water from their personal bag. “The flight attendants came by with drinks while you were up - figured you could at least use some water.” B gratefully accepts and murmurs their thanks, and the cool water feels like heaven as they gulp it down.

After, B pulls the paper-thin flight blanket up to their chin - at this point, they didn’t care what the travel magazines said about how dirty they were. But it’s no use. The cold plane air sinks into their aching bones, and their body shivers to make up the difference. They close their eyes and wriggle around in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position that still allows them to curl up and get warm while exhaling as few germs as possible – and if there's any mercy at all, to fall unconscious for the next 3 and a half hours.

“Will you stop?” The window passenger glares at them. “It’s bad enough you brought your germs on here. But now you can’t even sit still?” Tears pricked at B's eyes - being sick always made them more sensitive - but before they can squeak out an apology, C leaps to their aid.

"Lay off," C snaps. "Can't you see they don't feel good?" The other passenger huffs indignantly, and presses closer to the wall of the plane. C's eyes don't leave them, and they stretch their hand out tentatively toward B. "May I?"

B nods, letting their eyes close, and C gently lays a cool hand across their forehead, clicking their tongue at the heat. "Well, I've definitely flown with healthier seatmates than you." B tries to laugh, but a cough seizes their lungs, and they double over to try and contain it as best they can as C gently rubs between their shoulder blades. When they finally catch their breath, they rest their head on their knees, exhausted from the exertion. From their prone position, B checks their watch. 3 hours and 26 minutes to go.

I'm going to die.

Slowly, B sits up and stiffly straightens their blanket with as little movement as possible. A draft floods their section of the plane, and B longingly eyes C’s unopened blanket tucked in the seat pocket, trying to quiet the incessant chatter of their teeth.

“You cold?” C frowns.

“Freezing,” they whimper through clenched teeth. “And I hurt all over and I just want to go home and I miss A and I’m so tired.” They didn’t mean to break down, but two twin tears slip from their eyes as they try to stop their lip from quivering.

C’s quiet for a moment, then stands to rustle around in the overhead compartment, and returns with a small bundle.

“Lean back,” C gently commands, and A obeys and closes their eyes. They’re immediately draped in warmth, and open their eyes to see a thick, fleece-lined jacket being tucked over them, along with a soft travel blanket over their legs. They try to protest, but C shushes them.

“Being sick is already miserable without being stuck in a tin can in the sky. Besides, these flight blankets suck." C gives B's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and B nearly melts at the touch.

“And look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine - you don’t know me - but you can use my shoulder if you want to try and catch some sleep.”

In any other moment B would be mortified, but they're so spent that they just nod weakly and surrender to the offer of comfort. C pulls their unused blanket out and folds it into a sort of pillow, clicking the armrest down between them, and B collapses onto them in a boneless heap. Sleep tugs at the edge of their vision, but there's one lingering question on their mind.

"C? Why....why are you helping me? You've been nothing but kind and you don't even know me."

C's quiet for a moment. "Last year, I tried to do the same thing you're doing – power through an 8-hour flight home with a blossoming case of pneumonia. Cough, chills, headache, the works. About 2 hours in, I was about ready to jump out of the plane." They chuckle lightly, but B hears the wistful note in their voice. "It was absolutely miserable, and all I wanted was someone to hold my hand and tell me it’d be okay.”

C turns to look at B. "But nobody did. Not a single soul. So I vowed that if ever I found myself in a position someday to help somebody home, I’d do it.”

The words are so achingly comforting and desperately sad, so soft and generous and B feels like they should say something, affirm that yes, helping a random sick passenger was damn close to sainthood. But instead, sleep wins over, and they nestle closer to C as they tumble into a soft, dreamless sleep.

it feels like they’re asleep for minutes, but when C nudges them gently, they realize that they’re descending. They’re home.

The wheels skid on the runway, and the journey off the plane is a blur of sound and color and too-bright lights. B is only vaguely aware of C’s arm around their waist, guiding them through the crowd and to the baggage claim area. They must have told C which suitcase is theirs, because they blink twice and it magically appears at their feet.

“C’mon now, B. Almost there.” C gently guides them forward, and B wills themselves to power through the final few minutes.

“Do you see A anywhere?” C asks, squinting through the crowd of people. B can barely focus their eyes, and they’re losing hope, when all of a sudden - they see them. A. Holding a small paper sign with B’s name and a stuffed animal with a small red heart in their arms, waving wildly. They’re beaming, but the smile falls from their face as they see what condition B’s in.

“B - what happened? Are you okay?” B can barely whisper A’s name, and A pulls them into a hug, gently whispering reassurances, that they’re home and safe.

“Bit of a rough flight, but B hung in there,” C smiles, passing B’s suitcase to A. “They’re not feeling too hot, but I think they’ll make it.”

Suddenly, B releases A and stumbles back to C, throwing their arms around them. C’s thrown off balance by the strength of the hug, but manage to compose themselves and pat them gently on the back.

“Thank you,” B whispers. “So much.”

C blushes. “It was nothing. Just don’t forget to pay it forward.”

B squeezes tighter. “You deserved help. You still do.” C says nothing, just swallows tightly, and B feels C’s arms tighten ever so briefly around their waist.

A rush of dizziness floods B, and C gently guides them back to A’s waiting arms, before handing A a scrap of paper. “Listen, it’s none of my business - but can you give me a call in a couple days, just so I know they’re feeling better?”

A takes the scrap and smiles. “Absolutely. It’s the least I can do to thank you for keeping old B from falling apart in public.” B grunts indignantly, almost asleep again, and A strokes their hair and smiles.

They make it back to the car, and A manages to maneuver a limp B into the passenger seat, tucking them in and cranking the heat on their side. B blinks their eyes open and smiles guilelessly. “Go home now?”

A smiles and presses a soft kiss to their forehead. “Yes, love. We’re going home now.”

#fever whump #sickfic #whump prompt #hurt comfort #caretaking #whump on a plane #PLANE WHUMP EVERYONE #FINALLY #this really took a turn I was not expecting when I set out to write this #BUT ITS DONE #also there is most certainly space for a part 2 👀

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bomberqueen17 · 3 years ago

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souvenir handkerchiefs

His whole life, my dad was a handkerchiefs kinda guy. He sneezed a lot, he had allergies and asthma, he was just always blowing his nose, and he never used Kleenex, I never saw him do that one time. He just used handkerchiefs. Always, endless ones.

Did you know, the Army used to issue them? He had a number of them. Cotton, olive drab, not the softest, but sturdy and practical.

He had so many handkerchiefs. Bandanas, sure, but also the white ones with decorative edging. he had tie-dyed ones. He had many that small children had decorated with fabric markers as gifts, since he had grandkids. An entire drawer in his wardrobe was filled with just handkerchiefs, and they were a significant portion of his laundry.

After he died, right away Mom went through and found most of the ones the kids had decorated, and gave them back to those kids, since it would be meaningful to them. She kept a few for herself. And then she dumped the rest in a box and gave them to Farmsister, who also uses handkerchiefs fairly faithfully.

As I was at Farmsister’s house before the interment and was getting dressed I cursed that I’d brought several handkerchiefs and couldn’t find them, and was going to have to try to dig out a travel pack of tissues. “No, no, no,” she said, and ran into her bedroom and retrieved the box Mom had brought over.

“Souvenir handkerchiefs,” she said. “Take a couple. Actually-- shall I bring the box?”

And so she brought a box of Dad’s handkerchiefs to his interment.

Anyway I had stuffed one into my backpack and i can’t stop sneezing this morning and just pulled it out to use it and you know, it doesn’t smell like him anymore, but. Now my nose is running a lot.

Good thing I have this.

#tw grief

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

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blu-archer · 4 years ago

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Mr. Park’s return

So, I’m not sure what to make of this really... like it’s not really a sickfic thing - I don’t know.. it might be, I’ll just say it classifies, it’s more of like a little continuation bit in this series and because I felt like writing about it... I’ve had this sitting with me for a while, so I may as well post it.. it felt a bit everywhere, there’s some knew characters I just tossed in because I needed too and we’ll just see where that leads, yeah?

[there is probably grammatical errors, my first language is English I just can’t proof read - its a rough life] anyway, I hope this is somewhat enjoyable, its kind of a mess

This is supposed to be just a small filler type thing I guess

Snz based but like its rather mild.

‘Sickie’ : Jimin / [Felix? its faint really]/ [Yoongi is mentioned, but yeah]

Hybrid AU

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

Word count: 5376

I tossed some Stray Kids in here because I love them too.

“Good morning everyone.” Jimin smiled at the class of juniors settling in their seats as warmly as he could considering that he was still trying to recover from days of fever. He still felt tired and a weak, with some lingering symptoms, but he was tired staying at home doing nothing. He needed to work again, get back into a routine so that he wasn’t lazing around all the time. So, he had suited up in warm clothes and more makeup than usual to hide the dark rings that had still not left him.

The class stared at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity before greeting him with about the same enthusiasm he had done to them. He supposed that was fair, it wasn’t like they knew who he was really.

He cleared his throat, dropping the exam booklets onto the desk set up in the front of the room, before continuing on with as much forced giddiness as he could manage. No one wanted to head into an exam with a dark unwelcoming mood, so if he could brighten it by even an inch then he would be happy.

“I’m Mr. Park, I’ll be your teacher for this exam.” As if to serve as a reminder, something caught in his throat and he smothered a small bout of coughs into his arm. “Please excuse my voice, I’ve been a little under the weather.”

It didn’t take long before a few voices rose up, which was not surprising considering majority of the class had probably never seen him before. it had become blatantly obvious that most of the students had wanted to spend much more attention on their paper. He didn’t blame them, anyone would want to be distracted from exams and he usually wouldn’t mind, he loved to gossip and get to know the students and they always seemed to be as interested in him as he was in what they were like, but even with the amount of lozenges he’d sucked on that morning already, his voice was definitely going to give out if he spoke for long.

“What do you teach Sir?”

“You look so young.”

“Mr. Park! What are you doing here?”

“Are you new?”

“What type of Hybrid are you?”

Jimin looked to students who had spoken up. Most dressed or styled slightly different from the standard uniform, clearly these were the usual extrovert favourites. He tried to ignore the more intrusive questions and focus more on the ones of innocent curiosity. A wide grin split across his face and his sight narrowed as he recognised one girl that he taught in modern contemporary. Jimin pressed his square framed glasses further up his nose, his tail flicking as the girl waved her arm wildly from the back of the class.

“Sana? Oh, it’s weird seeing you out of class.” Jimin chuckled lightly, giving a small wave in return. “Most of you probably won’t know me, but I’ve been a part of the dance faculty for I think about three years now. I usually only interacted in the other art departments during these times, but this year the school thought it would be better to shift things around a bit. I think I only know Sana… oh wait, Soobin’s here too. Wow, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you two…” His chest warmed with the pleasure of seeing at least some of his kids.

“Sir, what are you doing back?” Soobin grinned and leant forward from when he sat on top of his friends desk. “Mr. Jung said that you probably wouldn’t be back for at least another week.”

“Not quite.” Jimin corrected, moving closer to his student. “It’s just not as heavy a work-load as usual. Are you ready for your exams? And you Sana? I feel so bad for not being there in your final sessions.”

“I think we’re both glad that you rested rather than pushed to be there with us.” Sana grinned, packing away her English textbooks. “I haven’t done mine yet but Soobin had his exam yesterday.”

Jimin’s eyes shot to the boy who merely shrugged, although the bright flash in the fae boys eyes led Jimin to believe he did better than he wanted to portray. Which was good. Great, actually. His students were amazing.

“Ahhh… why do I get the feeling that none of you did any real dancing while I was away… Anyway, don’t stress over it. Deep breathes and smooth lines. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.” Jimin countered to Sana before stepping back to address the class once again, coughing into his arm again – slightly harsher this time. He answered and entertained a few more questions from the students that he didn’t know before finally calling it. “Okay, we should probably start soon. May everyone please start packing away any studying material. And is everyone present for this exam?”

“Mr. Park, Sir.” A trio of girls, each with unique traits that led him to believe they were all either warlocks or fae, waved to him from the side of the class closest to the wall of windows.

“Yes?”

“So, you’re a dancer, Mr. Park? Can you show us something?” The one with golden eyes smirked and Jimin’s chest tightened, knowing that her suggestive tone wasn’t one of humour or general curiosity. Kids. They were kids.

“I am, but we have more important things.” He chose to ignore the low whining that erupted from them. “Clear your desks please, you don’t seem to be going over notes anyway. I am assuming that everyone is here, which means we are going to begin.”

He returned to the desk without glancing at the girls again. The session had officially started.

Once desks were clear he began to hand out transcripts, only letting them turn through the pages once each student had one. It was a bit of a struggle, with how hoarse his voice was quickly becoming – given that he hadn’t needed to use it as much in the past few days as he was now, but he managed to read through the paper with them to make sure there were no immediate errors then set them forth on the 3-hour paper. Even though it made him drowsy he snuck a few pills in after he stifled a sneeze into his wrist. He wanted to try keep any and all symptoms to a minimum as to not distract anyone, but it was difficult when the class only had the scribbling sound of pens on paper to fill it with noise.

He sipped the tea from his flask that he was certain Yoongi had spiked with some type of herbal energy booster before Jimin had left that morning. The hybrid couldn’t help the wholesome warmth that ran through him at the thought of the worrisome warlock. Despite Yoongi being powerful and often intimidating to those who didn’t know him, Jimin knew that the elder was in-fact a big softy that was usually too shy to address things that stressed him out. Especially if it was about the people he cared for. Instead he was prone to small actions that he thought would help lift any burdens or stressors, for both him and whoever he helped – in this case, Jimin. Yoongi hadn’t even wanted him to start at the school again yet, even for short hours, but after the hybrid had spoken some sense into him – that it was Jimin’s job and everyone, including Yoongi himself, had worked while sick at some point – Yoongi eventually caved.

Although that didn’t stop him from being a bit clingier than usual, and definitely didn’t stop him from wrapping Jimin entirely in the Warlocks clothes so that his scent was with him all day. Not that Jimin minded being completed drenched in the elders scent and the clothes that were just a bit too big for him always made him feel warm and comforted. The last week that Jimin had spent at home with his boyfriend had been amazing, even if he had been a miserable mess for most of it.

Jimin had just finished firing off emails to the other dance staff members about how everything was going with the dance exams and if there are still students looking for last minute help when he felt the sad realisation that his med’s had been easing off. He hadn’t brought enough for a second dose and he could already feel his nose starting to run. The exam was almost over, just another hour or so and then he was free to be a mess again. But that wasn’t what his body had in mind.

He’inxshew… hih..Hieshxngt hXNGst..

Damn it.

Jimin sniffed and wiped at his nose with a tissue. Thankfully he had thought to bring quite a few of the tissue travel packs with him, Yoongi had tried to slip an entire box of Kleenex into Jimin’s bag but the hybrid found that to be a bit excessive. His tail curled around his waist as he felt the gazes of a few of the students that were already finished or were checking through their work, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He sniffed repeatedly, trying to be as soft and quiet as possible but it only seemed to make matters worse as he snapped forward with another sneeze that he caught by pinching at his nose. Stifling was a bit painful, especially with how congested he had been, but he would bear with it.

He stifled four more before he had to come to terms with the fact that he could not try to sniffle to keep it at bay anymore. So he claimed fresh tissues to blow his nose, wincing and sending apologetic eyes to the students at the wet gurgling sound that filled the room. Jimin’s face was heated and he swallowed hard trying to work past his embarrassment. The students probably didn’t even care that much. But he still felt like the floor should open to let him fall through it.

He perked as a hand shot up, the student mouthing for more paper. Jimin threw away his tissues, doing his best to ignore how gross he was momentarily felt, and after a quick squirt his trusty hand sanitiser that Jin made him carry, he was up and handing out pages. Taking that moment of already being up to slowly walk around and check if anyone else needing anything from him. He tried not to linger too much when he noticed Soobin gnawing at his bottom lip. A quick glance and Jimin could tell that the boy was struggling with understanding some of the things being asked of him and he didn’t want to add any extra pressure of being hovered over. Clearly the boy was unfortunately – in this case - closer inclined to the creative arts than he was to general studies.

“Si-Sir?”

Jimin followed the soft whisper to a thin, pale dog hybrid who looked anxious just to have to look Jimin in the eye. Jimin cleared his throat to try get rid of the insistent itch that seemed to plague him and leant down so that the boy wouldn’t have to look up at him when he spoke. It wasn’t often that someone reacted intimidated by Jimin, so he was left a bit unsure. The few handfuls of times that he could remember being anything close to scary were strictly associated with his dancers or the few times he got into arguments with his friends, but usually everyone saw him as a soft and gentle hybrid that they could either try to walk all over or have pleasant easy conversations with. No real threat.

Jimin rested his hand on the edge of the desk to steady himself, then silently inclined his head to indicate that the boy could continue.

“I-I don’t feel.. feel well.”

Jimin gently rested a hand on the boys back only to frown at how sharp the hybrid’s bones were beneath his clothing. “What do you mean? Are you stressed? Sick? Do you feel nauseous?”

The boy merely nodded and swallowed loudly, sinking further away from Jimin.

“Do you want to go to the nurse?” he asked softly. Looking more closely at the boys’ face, his oddly sharp facial structure and sunken cheeks. He had originally seen the bruises under the boys eyes as a part of the exam season stress but maybe there was something else happening.. When he got the nod of approval Jimin set his hand on the boys exam paper. “Do you want to keep this for now, or should I take it?”

“Take it.”

Okay then. Jimin stood up, slipping the exam paper from the students desk, and bringing it back to his station, making note of the foreign name, ‘Felix’, filled in at the top right corner. Then he moved to the intercom attached to the wall behind his desk chair and held the button that connected him to the head office. “Hi, could we please have someone come to room 48? I need a student to be taken to the nurses office.”

A garbled reply came back at him that he could only hope meant that someone would be sent soon. In the meantime, Jimin dug in his bag until he retrieved a sealed bottle of water. It wasn’t as cold as it had been when he had bought it, but it would do. He returned to the boy who had now buried his face into his hands, taking deep shaky breaths.

“Felix… can you try taking some small sips of water for me?” Jimin knelt beside the desk once more, twisting off the cap of the bottle. “Just a few? When last did you eat or drink something?”

He didn’t get much of a response other than the hybrid lifting his head enough to look at the open water before shakily taking it from Jimin. He took the smallest of sips before just sitting there with his eyes tightly shut.

“Okay.” Jimin rubbed Felix’s back and stood up again, coughing into his arm before letting out a restrained groan. “Everyone, you have 40 minutes left. If you’re finishing off or just sitting there, then go through your answers again and make sure you’ve read the questions carefully.”

It was almost ten minutes before Jimin heard a soft knock on the door.

Felix had been sitting with his hands pressed tightly against his eyes, leaning heavily on his elbows while taking stuttering breaths. Jimin had been hovering with concern, but there wasn’t anything he could really do to help. The dog hybrid pretty much shunned him every time he murmured a gentle question or soothing words.

Jimin left his spot next to the sick boy, giving a quick glance over the class to find that at least a third of them were watching him and not going over their work like he’d encouraged, but he called out a brief ‘half an hour left’ and moved to open the door.

“Jimin?”

“Jin.” Jimin let out a heavy breath, running a finger under his nose before leaning closer to the concerned elder. Silently thanking that their office employees had thought to call the school nurse directly and not some random other teacher to walk the boy to a better environment. “Hi, I’m not sure how sick this boy is, but he has a fever and I think he might be nauseous. He couldn’t tell me if it was from anxiety or something else so… He didn’t seem too keen on talking to me at all actually. I just gave him water.”

Jin nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans before stepping forward to move into the class. For a moment he looked like he wanted to question Jimin on something else but thought better of it.

“Where are they?”

Jimin pointed him out and then stood back, trying his best to watch over the rest of the class and not interfere with Jin as he prompted a few words out of Felix – mostly about what he felt like and whether he was okay to walk - before helping him stand. The witch had to wrap an arm around the boys waist to kept him steady and they were forced to move at a slow pace, but Jin just murmured soft barely audible words of encouragement until they’d reached the door. Jimin lay a steadying hand on Jin’s arm before biting at his lip.

“Do you need help getting back? I can ask the office to send another person..”

“We’re fine Jimin.” Jin reassures, his hand rubbing gently at Felix’s side. “I know him, I’d rather just move slowly and not stress him out too much. You can come by in a bit if you’re worried, but I’ve got it.”

Jimin let them go, closing the door softly behind them trying to ignore the tears that had sprung to Felix’s eyes as soon as the pair had left the room. Distracted, he gave a final slow walk through the rows of students. Most of them were finished now, some had lain down over their desks while others fiddled with their stationery. He gave a pleased nod to see that at least two students where carefully reading through their work and added to certain places, and then he passed Soobin. The boy had completely drawn over the back of his exam paper with dark detailed sketches that couldn’t have been done quickly. Jimin winced at the thought of how the boys answers must look, and took it has a hint to sit the rest of the time at his desk where he sipped at the final bit of his now lukewarm tea.

He sent a few carefree texts to Yoongi, who had been complaining bitterly about having to stay at home for the day. Apparently he had tried to talk Namjoon into letting him work but the clumsy witch had threatened to jinx the elder if Yoongi came in to work. Jimin smiled at his boyfriend’s irritated messages, knowing that the warlock was probably still in bed despite him having his studio there if he really wanted to work.

He still felt a bit bad about getting Yoongi sick, but the warlock had thankfully always been a quick healer, so hopefully if he rested for a day or two then he would be fine. Jimin sent a final ‘see you in a bit! Love you!’ before he readied up the exam folder to retrieve the papers.

He coughed once into his fist, pushing up his glasses instinctively afterwards, then gave a soft smile. “Okay guys, if anyone is still writing I’m going to need you to stop.”

“Jin? You in here?” Jimin peeked into the small nurses office only to find it empty, ignoring how his voice had cracked. The desk had been pushed neatly to the side and had an open medical bag with some scattered medications on it but other than that and the locker off to the side that held Jin’s personal things, the room was impeccably clean. Although that shouldn’t surprise him, it was a nurses office. “Soekjin?”

He heard a soft reply and then Jin appeared, ducking through the white curtain that basically blended into the wall. The sectioned off area for those that needed a bed to lay down in, if Jimin remembered correctly.

“Yeah, hey.” Jin smiled and tugged at the collar of his shirt before collapsing into his chair with a sigh. “Sorry, I’ve been running everywhere.”

“Mr. Popularity.” Jimin teased and entered properly into the room to lean against the second chair across from his friend. He flipped a small backpack up and dropped it onto the empty seat. “Felix left this. I didn’t want to leave it there in case there was something important inside. He can just fetch it from here whenever he’s back at school.”

“He hasn’t left yet.” Jin let out a breath much heavier than before. His expression darker than what Jimin was used to seeing on him. “He stays in a foster home with a whole bunch of other kids, his guardians are always a bit preoccupied with the younger children. I think they like to think that the older kids can fend for themselves a lot better than what they actually can, but yeah. They were called, but his foster brother will probably be the one to fetch him after his classes for uni end.”

Jimin frowned deeply. His chest ached in sympathy for the timid hybrid that had seemed close to passing out earlier. “Is he… okay?”

“Mostly.” Jin shrugged, glancing back to the curtained area he had come through. “He threw up a few times and put up more of a fight than I thought possible when I tried to get him to drink a potion. I had to resort to just standard medicine, but it won’t be as effective. Seems like a flu.”

“I felt awful that I couldn’t really help earlier.” Jimin admitted with a small sniff, rubbing at the tip of his nose swiftly. “He seemed scared to tell me anything, but I don’t know… maybe he just really wasn’t feeling well.”

Jin shook his head. “This isn’t his first foster home, he got moved around a lot. From his file and the times he’s spoken to me, he has a bit of a rocky history with cat hybrids – of course his experiences kind of dealt more with predatory breeds but I suppose he just kind of categorised.”

Now Jimin felt worse. He bit at his lip and locked his eyes onto the curtain as if he would be able to see the boy through the material. Was he asleep, or was he listening? Jimin’s throat tightened at the thought of having scared the dog hybrid. He didn’t really like causing someone else unnecessary stress, especially if there was a history of something … what, abusive? Maybe?

“I didn’t realise… Why was he sent to school if he wasn’t feeling well?”

“Beats me. Probably didn’t say anything, he’s only really comfortable with a few people and I don’t think he expects to rely on his foster parents.” Jin says quietly. “He’s a good kid, though. Very funny and loud when he wants to be. He just needs to open up to others a bit more, stop feeling like a burden and maybe participate a bit more.”

Jimin nodded, twisting at one of his rings. “It’s hard sometimes, I get that. If he ever wants to he’s more than welcome to come by the dance studio’s. We sometimes hold after school classes for those that are curious or need extra practices. It might be a bit late to switch to it as a subject, but I’m willing to teach him a few things when he’s feeling better, maybe it will help in terms of meeting new people. Or I can ask Hobi if he can teach him a few things if he’ll feel more comfortable with a human teacher.”

“I’ll let him know.” Jin let out a huff of a laugh. “How are you? Feeling better about being back?”

Jimin grinned widely, leaning heavily onto the chair. “Loads better, Yoongi helped me a lot. I’m still a bit stuffy –“

“And your voice is super hoarse.” Jin said, then smiled teasingly as Jimin whined, his ears drooping a little.

“Yeah, I know… But I really do feel better. I’m tired now but I’m happy to be back at work, I missed my kids. I got see two of my students during the exam, although I don’t think I have a lot of faith in the ones English skills. … its fine though.” Jimin straightened up and gave a dramatic wave of his hands. “He won’t need good marks in standard school, he’ll go far in dancing.”

Jin pulled a face at Jimin’s words causing the younger to let out a small giggle.

“Maybe not fail the standard schooling, but you get what I mean. He’s going places whether he gets those marks or not.”

“Sure, Minnie. Just don’t tell him that he doesn’t need to get good marks in other things.” Jin advised teasingly. “That’s not the best way to educate the next generation.”

A gentle knock on the office door had Jimin jumping in fright, his ears drawn back, and fur raised, only to see two boys hovering outside. He vaguely recognised one from seeing him in hallways but the shorter one was unfamiliar, they both had soft fae-like features and wide innocent eyes. The taller was still dressed in the academies uniform while the other was dressed entirely in baggy black clothes that reminded Jimin of Yoongi. Although he doubted Yoongi would willingly get a lip and eyebrow piercing… maybe Jimin could talk him into it…

“Hey, Chan. You got here fairly quickly.” Jin rose from his seat. “ I think he’s asleep right now, but I’ll wake him up and give him a final look over.”

“Thank you so much Mr. Kim.” The dark one said, smiling brightly at Jin before nodding a greeting at Jimin.

He gave a soft ‘Hi’ before he pulled the light backpack off of the seat and handed it to the one Jin had addressed. “Here’s his bag.”

“Thank you.” Chan accepted it quickly and gratefully.

“Aren’t you one of the dance teachers? On the other side of the school?” The student, who looked about the same age as Felix despite being taller than both Chan and Jimin. “I saw you in that theatre performance thing like three months ago… right?”

Jimin nodded, assuming that the boy was talking about the fundraiser that the school did that was mostly a time for the students to see the staff make fools of themselves doing dances or skits – or in his and the rest of the performance arts staffs’ case, their talent and skills being flaunted in their natural habitats.

“Yep, I’m a modern – contemporary instructor, but I help out in the hip hop sector when I’m needed.”

The boys face lit up at knowing he was right. “You’re dancing is so cool. You were so graceful on stage, it looked really beautiful.”

Jimin smiled and felt his cheek warm. Jin had disappeared behind the curtain and Chan was watching Jimin with a small smile.

“I remember now. I went and watched with him and some of our other brothers.” Chan added. “He kind of became obsessed with dance after that.”

His cheeks burned and he let out a soft nervous cough into his fist. “That’s kind, thank you. Are you… all in the same Foster family as Felix?”

Chan nodded before adding. “I don’t live there anymore, but I still spend time with some of them there, kind of become like real brothers, you know?”

Jimin nodded, stilling feeling a bit off about thinking of them in a foster home. “Well I was just telling Jin that he was welcome to come by the studios if he ever felt interested in dance. As a way to open up a bit. I’m not sure if Felix would join if I taught him, but you’re welcome to join myself or Mr. Jung as well if you want – um..”

“Hyunjin.” The boy said eagerly. “That’s so cool. I really want to, I wanted to take classes, but our guardians couldn’t pay for the extra fee.”

Jimin bit back his grimace. It was unfortunate that students had to pay an extra amount for specialised classes but there wasn’t much he could do besides over informal schooling.

“Well, we can organise once or twice a week to help you guys out. You actually look like the right build for a dancer, probably wont struggle too much…”

Jin reappeared with the small dog hybrid following close behind, looking a bit steadier on his feet than before but still nowhere near healthy enough to be at school. Felix hesitated at the sight of him but didn’t stop for long before he move to sink into Chan’s arms. Jin spoke about some of the hybrids symptoms and what he’d need to take as well as giving a few things to watch out for and what to do if it got worse just in case their guardians got busy. Jimin moved back, letting the two boys move closer to their brother in the office. It was cute to see the three of them together, so different and yet there was a clear sense of family. Jimin sniffed only to regret it as a sharp piercing lemon scent that was no doubt coming from Felix flooded his senses. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t smelt it earlier, perhaps it was because Felix was feeling safe – in any case, Jimin blinked hard. He pressed a finger secretly to his nose, but it only seemed to aggravate the itch. Damn it, he had really hoped that he had finished with this earlier – he had blown his nose enough times after leaving the class, but apparently not.

‘He’ingxt’ah.. h’ingxsh..hih..hih’IGTSHiew…’ He cringed as he felt eyes land on him but couldn’t do anything else but keep his hand covering his face. ‘hih’itchshew… h’IShiew..’

“Bless you, Jimin.”

Jimin groaned and pulled a face, giving a soft and somewhat nervous sniffle. It seemed to be the end of it thankfully. Everyone was looking at him, but thankfully they didn’t seem to really care. “Thanks…”

“Thought you were better, hmm?”

“Jin,” Jimin pursed his lips and resisted the urge flick him. “Shut up. I’m fine now, just... lingering stuff.”

Jin hummed but Jimin knew he was only trying to be annoying.

“okay well, I’ll head out then.” Jimin clapped his hands together awkwardly, no longer wanting to stay in the room in case he was going to start being sensitive to any more scents.

“Tell Yoongi to feel better for me, Min.” Jin said as he wrote down the names of specific medications that would be the most long lasting for a hybrid.

Remembering the adorable sight he had left his boyfriend in that morning, Jimin spun around with a cheery gasp and wide glimmering eyes that had Jin laughing loudly, the other three in the room just blinking with bemusement at the suddenly change.

“Get home Jimin! That wasn’t an invitation to start blabbering about your boyfriend. Actually, I’m very annoyed at you – It’s your fault that I didn’t get my extra Namjoon-day yesterday. I was devastated! Devastated Jimin!” Jin scolded him without even trying to suppress his smile.

“You can sleep with your husband whenever you want Jin. No one is stopping you.” A pen smacked into his chest and Jimin bubbled with laughter as he danced out of range of the book that had come flying soon after the first projectile. “Don’t throw things at me!”

“Yah! Don’t say inappropriate things in front of students, you bratty cat!”

“They know what sex is!” Jimin argued playfully, coughing lightly as he caught the next book that came flying at his face. “So sensitive. Has it been that long?”

“I should have never befriended you. I have to rethink my life choices.” Jin shook his head as he sent Felix an exasperated look. The dog hybrid was watching the interaction with wide, watery eyes.

“Bye, Soekjin.” Jimin laughed, handing the book he had caught to Hyunjin. “I’ll let Yoongi know you care. If you want… I can ask him to make up something special to help-“

“GO HOME, BRAT!”

Jimin pranced away, hearing the soft curses that Jin threw after him. Home. Despite how mixed his feelings were after finding out about Felix’s family life, he couldn’t help but be filled with a flood of warmth at the thought of his boyfriend waiting for him. Most likely still cuddled up into the warm nest Jimin had rearranged for him, unless the elder had decided to use energy to make food or something, but that seemed particularly doubtful after he had messaged Jimin about how lucid he felt and about the mountain of tissues creating a new city on the floor of their bedroom.

It was endearing… possibly contagious to anyone else that stepped fought into their house but somehow, very endearing.

#bts sickfic #bts fanfic #witch jin #nurse jin #hybrid jimin #dancer teacher jimin #alternate universe #stray kids #hybrid felix #I tossed some kpop idols into this mess just because I could #Its a mess #but I posted something #Its a little cute #I wanted caring Jimin #This is more plot than anything else i feel like

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bearseokie · 5 years ago

Text

Rhetorical (M) | kyg

request: fwb yugyeom?

pairing: fratboy! yugyeom x fem! reader genre: fwb! au, romance, smut, fluff, one-shot, college! au warnings: blood, cursing, alcohol consumption, dry-humping, oral (receiving), & yug steals your blueberries word count: 2.8k summary: After befriending Yugyeom, he seems to never leave you alone, but a situation at his frat house forces him to be an official guest at your dorm. A/N: anon, you requested fwb yug the second i drafted this,, same braincell

The wind was settled for the first night in over a week, house parties lining the streets outside of the college campus as you were on a small walk, clearing your mind before you had to write a large essay due the next morning. Your feet carried you down the sidewalk, the rows of campus-bought homes designated for the school's fraternities.

The parties blended down the street, the only specific way of knowing which one you were at was by looking at the signs above the front doors that gave the frats’ name. Music pumped so loud the ground vibrated, your entire body thumping as you walked by a few playing different genres.

"It was an accident, man!" you heard someone yell a house over from where you were walking, watching a tall guy walk past everyone down the driveway holding his face.

The hand over the bridge of his nose made him sway from his eyes half being covered as he walked, gently bumping into others as he escaped the party. Heading in your direction, you noticed the blood pouring down his face. Pulling your small bag from your back, you pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex, holding it up as he walked past. You watched him keep his eyes straight ahead, bumping into your shoulder as he walked directly past you and headed the way you came.

"Wait!" you called to him, his free hand balled in anger from whatever happened at the party.

Your mind was fuzzy trying to remember his name. He was so familiar, having seen his face at school events throughout the entire semester, you even had a class or two with him, if you were correct. He was the tall, blonde guy that always had his friends surrounding him, always had a smile on his face.

"Kim Yugyeom!" you shouted at him, making him stop and turn around to see you chasing him down.

"What?" he flared, keeping his index and thumb pinched on his nose, head tilted back.

"That won't help, you can put your head down," you said to him, finally catching up from his long strides. "Here, use this."

Handing him a Kleenex, he sighed. Immediately after putting it into the cut on the bridge of his nose, it was covered in blood, much like his hands.

"Do you think I need stitches?" he asked, trying to pull another from the pack in your hands as he looked at you.

"Uh, possibly. I can walk you to the school nurse's office, they stay open late on the weekends just in case," you said to him, a smile on his lips as he nodded.

"Thank you."

"Were you headed to a party?" he questioned, continuing to sway as he walked beside you.

"Here, hold on to my arm before you fall over," you said to him, wrapping your arm around his to keep him steadied.

"Thanks." he gleamed at you while holding his face, eyes glistening under the moonlight.

"Actually, I was just on a walk. I have a paper later, helps me focus if I walk around first." you laughed as he nodded again. "How did that happen?"

"Never trust a bunch of frat dudes with mirrors," he whined, shaking his head as the force of his body almost pulled both of you over.

You walked a few blocks towards campus, the school still busy from its afternoon and night classes. Streetlights lined the sidewalks as you kept Yugyeom upright, the smell of alcohol on his lips making you worried.

"You aren't supposed to drink on campus," you said, your own voice stunning due to the goody-two-shoes comment.

"Technically," he chuckled, swaying against you as his index finger pointed into the air. "I'm not on campus. I was at a frat house down the street with the seniors. That's allowed."

Shaking your head, you laughed at his broken remark, fully aware that you taking him on campus was becoming a bad idea, but you also weren't a medical student.

You face-palmed yourself.

"How about this," you began. "I'll take you back to my dorm, invite my nurse friend over to stitch up your nose, and then you can sober up enough for me to take you home." you looked at his face, which was much higher than yours even though his entire body was currently slumped onto you as you walked, the alcohol in his system more evident.

"Deal." he smiled, the cut on his nose starting to dry up from all of the blood.

That was how you befriended Kim Yugyeom.

The tall blonde would always find himself bouncing to your dorm on a late-night, slipping through your door to land on your bed as you attempted to sleep. Luckily, your roommate had a boyfriend, and would only come to the dorm during attendance. You would both be undisturbed as he flattened you against your twin mattress, nearly suffocating you until you finally woke up and pushed him off, usually making him land between you and the wall.

Drunk Yugyeom had decided to make your dorm his designated sobering-up place, somehow making it to you every time without being caught. He would sleep beside you for a few hours, wake up, steal your food, drink your water, throw up in your bathroom, and leave when the sun was starting to rise.

"Y/N!" a voice whined to you as you finally made it through your dorm's door, met with Yugyeom sprawled out on the loveseat with a mouthful of blueberries.

"How the hell did you get in?" you asked him, his eyes not leaving his phones’ screen as he continued to stuff more of the berries into his mouth.

"Your roommate stopped by."

"And where were you?" you questioned.

"Standing at your door waiting for you," he said, nearly choking.

"You're sober." you laughed at him, setting down your bag as you rummaged between your books and binders trying to find your homework.

Finding the binder you needed, you set it on the counter, scanning the room to see what Yugyeom had been up to for however long he had been in your dorm. Blinking, you noticed a large, black bag was sat next to your bed, Yugyeom not commenting on it due to his face still being stuffed.

"Hey, Yug," you asked him, his head tilting to peer at you as you stared at the bag. "What's with the bag? Run away from home or something?"

"Funny. I got kicked out," he said, shaking his head as he put the bowl of blueberries down on the table beside the loveseat.

"What do you mean you got kicked out? You're in a fraternity," you said, eyebrows together as his face seemed unbothered by the situation.

"Well, it's not really me being kicked out." he started. "The last party had too much junk left around and we got a bad bug problem, so the school requested we find somewhere else to stay for a few days."

"They can do that?"

"They did do that," he stated blankly, standing from the love-seat and walking over to you as you took a seat at the small breakfast table. "Calculus?"

"Yugyeom, where are you going to stay?" you asked, ignoring your homework as you stared between him and his bag.

"Here," he said, a pout in his face as he took the seat next to you.

"Yugyeom, we have attendance in our dorms every night at eight. If you get spotted by security you'll get kicked off campus," you recalled your school's strict rules for freshmen carefully, scared at the thought of Yugyeom being kicked out of school just from being in your dorm past curfew.

"Oh, please." he laughed and sighed. "You're already breaking one rule. Lying for your roommate?"

"I don't lie for her, she comes back for attendance and then leaves the second they move to the next building," you said, putting your forehead in your hand as you stared at him.

"Do they search the rooms during attendance?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

"They open the door, so if your dumbass is sitting on my sofa chowing down on my blueberries, then they will surely notice." your words made him nod quickly, standing back up from his seat and walking over to your bed.

He crouched down, moving his bag up towards your nightstand as he slinked under your twin bed, moving completely out of sight, except for his two, long legs poking out at the end.

"I can see your feet." you huffed, moving over to him as he chuckled under your bed.

Kicking at his shoes, he stuck his head out from the side. "There's so much dust under here, you're going to kill me from an allergic reaction."

"Yes, Yugyeom, because I'm supposed to keep the floor under my bed perfectly dusted in case you want to hide under there." you scoffed as he pulled his long body out from under your bed, sitting on his knees as he looked up at you with an innocent face.

"I can fit, at least for a few minutes. They'll never know I'm here." he chuckled, hugging your waist as he put his chin against your abdomen.

"But I'll know you're here."

"Then I guess we'll both have to be quiet about it." he laughed, biting the band of your jeans as you jumped, the contact strange from him.

"I don't like this idea," you stated while fluffing the dust out of his hair, sighing as another pout moved to his face.

Slowly lifting your shirt up, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, another strange contact you had never encountered with him. It wasn't unnatural for the two of you to be close, considering you spent every other night tangled in each other as you slept, but this was new. His hands moved to your hips, holding you to him as he let your shirt fall over his head. Trailing kisses up your stomach, his mouth stopped as he reached the trim of your bra, moving his head back out as he stood in front of you.

His eyes weren't in their normal glassy state, his breath smelling of only blueberries instead of mixes of alcohol like you were used to. He actually stood on his own two feet, staring into your eyes as he bent down to meet your height, gently putting your lips on his. The kiss was slow and light, pulling back within seconds as your eyelashes fluttered together.

"Thank you," he said, a smile on his face. "For always taking care of me."

You put your hands on either side of his face, pulling him into another kiss as you deepened it, a moan coming from him as his hands trailed up from your hips and under your shirt. The pads of his fingers rubbed against your skin delicately as if you were glass, his soft lips on yours as he pulled you into his embrace. Your hands slid down his face and neck, arms wrapping around him as you interlocked your fingers behind his head. His arms lifted you from the floor so he didn't have to continue being bent over to reach you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he held you up and turned around, pressing you against the wall between yours and your roommates night-stands.

His lips pulled from yours, staring into your eyes as he moved to kiss down your neck, a small moan leaving you as he took that as a sign to keep going, leaving a small bite above your collarbone. His kisses turning into sucks, the grip on your thighs falling as your hips became the same height as his own, pressed against you as he held you to the wall. Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck as he reconnected the kiss, hips shoved into yours as the friction made you moan into his mouth, a smirk on his lips as he swayed them into you on purpose.

"Kim Yugyeom, what the fuck are you doing to me?" you whined, his laugh making you smile into another kiss as he pursued humping against you, short whimpers coming from him as the bulge in his jeans grew.

"Apparently making you horny." you took his pause to speak to latch your lips onto his neck, the contact making his hips thrust against you harder as he groaned against the wall.

"That was a rhetorical question," you stated against his skin, biting a few small marks into him in return as his hips repeated the rough collision.

He pulled you from the wall as your lips kissed over the bruises and bites, planting you on your bed as he hovered over you. Sitting up from your body, he pulled his shirt over his arms, throwing it in some direction in the room as you pulled your own shirt over your head and off. He smiled at you, having seen you in your underwear once before, on "accident".

You learned to lock the bathroom door after that happened.

He stared over you, proud of the hickeys he left on your neck and shoulders as his hands ran up and down your body. Undoing your pants and sliding them down your legs slowly, savoring your pretty thighs, he let out a sound.

"Ahh." he sighed happily, seeing your eyebrow cock at him as his lips moved to your thighs, kissing up them as he moved near your core, making your legs buck from nervousness. "Are you alright with this?"

"Y-Yes." you stuttered, spacing out at the thought of your friend, that you've slept by countless times, taking your body. The nights you attempted to subside your perverted thoughts from him being so close making you blush under his touch.

"What is it?" he asked, a huge, playful grin on his face.

"This is so weird," you said, making him laugh as he kissed above your panties.

"Is it?" he asked, seeming distracted. "I've been waiting for this for so long."

"You have?"

"I've had a pretty girl laying next to me for months now, of course I thought about kissing and having sex with you," he stated, a light peck over your covered slit making you gasp. "I just didn't want to be one of those guys. Obviously, I wasn't going to do it drunk, either."

"You could have," you said, his lips turning from the grin back to a smirk. "At any time."

He slowly peeled your panties down your legs, a wet spot stuck to your core as he pulled them off with his index finger and thumb, tossing them off to the side.

"If I had known that," he said, studying how your hips ground against nothing from the cold air. "Then I would have done this sooner."

His tongue glided over your slit, another loud gasp coming from you as he moved the wet muscle over your clit, your head jerking back against the mattress as your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling gently as he moaned. He let you thrust against his face, his tongue keeping a steady pace against your clit as he explored lower, moving in and out of you a few times to make you call out his name.

"Your moans are so pretty," he said, teeth accidentally grazing your clit as he smiled against you.

Your grip on his hair got tighter, hips moving faster as his hands pushed them against your soft mattress, his moans and pants against you pressing you on further. Your entire body shook, vibrating as your orgasm hit, Yugyeom's tongue flat against you as he let you cum all over his face.

As you raised to your elbows to see him better, a whistle echoed through your hall. Eyes almost bulging from your face, you pushed him back, grabbing your panties from across the room and pulling them on.

"Fuck!" you yelled lightly, his entertained glance watching you whip around your room, hopping into your pants while looking for your shirt. "Attendance, get under the damn bed, Yugyeom!"

Yugyeom's smile faded into his own worried expression, falling to his knees and slipping under your bed, pulling his legs up so he would go unnoticed. You scanned your room, having it look semi-normal as you grabbed the shirt on your bed, pulling it over your torso and fixing your hair as you rushed out the door of your dorm. The line of tired college students sighed and groaned as the security guard walked up and down the hall, glancing into each room and marking a check by the student's name, doing the same for you as your roommate stood beside you, cackling behind her hand as she tried to keep herself contained.

"His shirt is on backwards," she said, the confused look shot from you making her snort.

"Whose?" you said, looking over your neighboring student's outfits. "I don't see any of the guy's shirts on backwards."

"No, dumbass," she said. "Yugyeom's shirt."

The panicked expression on your face thinking he came out of hiding too early made her laugh, causing attention to the two of you as the hall started returning to their rooms.

"The one you're wearing," she said, making you look down and realize you had grabbed Yugyeom's shirt as you rushed out. And it was on backward.

got7 m.list | navi.

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #got7 yugyeom #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 scenario #got7 imagine #kim yugyeom #yugyeom smut #yugyeom fluff #yugyeom fic #fic: rhetorical #mature #got7.drabble

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 34]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. None edited chapters are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Just going to be casually researching today since I finally have my head above water when it comes to school! Yay!

Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

“Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Pat’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

“Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Chapter 14

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

Pat was snapping photos every so often like a tourist which Janus shook his head at but allowed because even with the outdated phone it almost made them blend in even more. It also might stop any questions about Pat’s weird way of speaking French. They could just say he was an overeager tourist who watched too many old movies.

“Ooo!” Pat said. “We should get crepes.”

“Why?”

“You can’t go to France and not eat crepes.”

“I assure you, you can,” Janus said dryly.

Pat shot a pout at him and the next thing he knew he was in a small crepe shop.

For Janus, choosing something was easy. He just ordered the first thing he found on the menu which seemed to be a standard one with ham and eggs. Pat on the other hand seemed to be struggling greatly, and Janus had to gently push him to the side to let some other customers order first.

“What should I get!?” Pat asked. “They all look so good! I could do strawberry preserves or maple syrup or just sugar!”

“Or you could get one that is actually food,” Janus suggested mildly. “I don’t think you need any more sugar judging by how you are acting.”

Pat rolled his eyes. “You sound like Lo.”

Janus made a note of the name ‘Lo’ even though it surely was a nickname.

“But, since you’re insisting, I’ll get something healthy. I’ll have the strawberry one. That’s a fruit!”

“It comes with a cream cheese filling,” Janus pointed out.

“And it’s fruit!”

Janus shook his head and stepped up to the counter. “One ham and cheese and one strawberry preserve, please,” he said to the cashier as he was not allowing Pat to order in French and accidently say something stupid. He forked over some euros.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Pat protested when he saw that.

Janus glanced back at him. “I was afraid you’d try to pay in francs,” he said dryly.

It looked like Pat was about to stick his tongue out at him, remembered that Janus had criticized him for that earlier, and then just scrunched up his face in displeasure as though that was any less childish.

They waited for their crepes to be finished and then went to eat them outside near a water fountain.

“I can pay you back for the crepe,” Pat said after they sat down. “I do actually have euros.”

Janus waved him off. “It wasn’t that expensive.”

Pat hummed. “Well, in that case. I insist on paying for a wish for you.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “In the fountain!” Pat clarified.

Pat set aside his crepe to dig in his pocket for a couple of coins. “Here!” he said handing one over.

Janus glanced over at the fountain. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Pat beseeched. “You have to want something. I’ll even throw it in for you, but you have to make a wish first!”

“No.”

“Please!”

Janus sighed. “Fine.” He popped the rest of his crepe in his mouth. “I wish for a crepe,” he said after swallowing.

“You just had a crepe, silly.”

“But I liked it, so I want another one.”

“We can go back and get you another crepe.”

“Ah, but I’m not hungry anymore.”

Pat crossed his arms. “You’re just being difficult on purpose.”

“Not me,” Janus said putting hand over his heart. “I would never do something like that.”

Pat glared at him, but then snatched the coin out of his hand. “Fine!” he said. “One crepe wish coming right up.” He hopped up with the two coins and darted over to the water fountain. Janus turned to watch him go but then happened to catch sight of something out of the corner of his eyes.

Pat’s phone.

He didn’t pause in his movement, completing the turn, but as he watched Pat close his eyes, presumably to focus on his own wish, Janus snuck a hand out and grabbed the phone without looking. He slipped it into his own pocket.

Pat came back over after throwing both coins in the fountain and didn’t even seem to notice that his phone was missing, picking up his crepe to take another bite. Just to make sure, though Janus decided to distract him. “What do you think of your crepe?” Janus asked.

“I like it! It’s sweet, but not too sweet. There was a crepe place across the street from my apartment in college, but they always put a bit too much sugar in the dough, I think. I’d still eat them, but these are much better.”

Janus nodded and kept up the light conversation until Pat was finished.

21088

“Well,” he said then, getting to his feet. “It seems that nothing else is going to happen regarding the time distortion. I should be getting back.”

Pat hummed. “I should too. It’s movie night!”

“I probably should arrest you,” Janus noted.

“In the middle of all of these people?” Pat asked mildly.

“Touché,” Janus said.

Pat gasped and pointed at him. “Pun!” he said. Janus blinked at him. “Because we’re in France! That’s French!”

“…Goodbye Pat,” Janus said, turning to walk away from him.

“Goodbye… wait I still don’t know your name!”

Janus stopped to look back at him for a moment. “Like I said,” he replied. “Elvis.”

“Fine,” Pat said. “Au revoir, mon chéri.”

“You never stop, do you?” Janus asked.

Pat giggled. “Considering I don’t know what you mean, I imagine I’m just getting started.”

Janus actually left then, walking off towards the alley he’d first arrived in. In some ways, the mission had been a bust, but in others it had gone very well.

He felt for the weight of the phone in his pocket before pulling up the display screen on his timepiece to go back to the TPI.

It had gone very well indeed.

Chapter 15

The first thing Janus had done when he’d returned to the TPI was hand over the timebomb to Khalid who sent it to forensics. Within the hour, forensics got back to them that it was the same timebomb as 2999 and that it had never exploded, but simply been diffused. Which meant, blessings on blessings, everyone got to go home that night.

Not that Janus went home, no, he ended up falling asleep on his desk somewhere between 3 and 4am, but at least he wasn’t sharing his space with anyone. He’d been trying to hack the cell phone all night to see if it had anything he could use, but he honestly had no idea what he was doing. All it seemed he could do was play some annoying song over and over again about never giving someone up. At around 2am, he’d finally broken and sent off an email, though, he’d continued to try to mess with it after that.

He got woken up by Lena coming into the office at 7am, and noticed he already had an email response asking when Janus wanted to come in.

“Now?” he sent back.

“…Do you sleep?” was the immediate response. “And yes.”

His wrist buzzed as an appointment in 5 seconds downloaded to his timepiece. He selected the coordinates and landed at Cultural Outreach. The receptionist blinked up at him and then back down at the screen on his desk. “Oh!” he said. “I didn’t see this appointment. I think Professor Eran is in his office.”

He didn’t stand to escort Janus this time, so Janus went ahead and went down the hall to Virgil’s office himself.

He knocked on the door and while he was waiting for Virgil to open it, the infernal contraption once again started to play the same stupid song.

“I didn’t even touch you!” he spat, getting it out and tapping on the screen.

“Jonas Brothers dude again?” Virgil asked causally upon opening the door.

Janus shoved it at him. “Make it stop.”

Virgil took it and fiddled with it for a few moments before it stopped with the song. “Oh my gosh,” he said scrolling through something on the screen.

“What.”

“What maniac sets a custom alarm for every 30-60 minutes for a week that just plays ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’? Oh, and one ‘It’s Not Unusual’ on Saturday. He’s mixing memes at an alarming rate.”

“Can you. Just. Make it not happen. Anymore?”

Virgil smirked at him. “Maybe.” He turned around to go back into his office.

“Virgil,” Janus growled following him in.

Virgil just laughed. “What do you want to know about it?” he asked. “Just a fair warning… the song means he… likely was aware someone would steal it.”

“Of course, he was,” Janus groaned.

“But I’m sure we can still get something out of it.” Virgil started tapping at the screen again. “Okay, let’s see. It’s an iPhone 5, and someone jailbroke it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tampered with it so they could install non-company approved software,” Virgil explained.

“Well I figured that since he was using Google Maps to track time distortions,” Janus grumbled.

“I think I have something,” Virgil said to himself while digging through his desk. “Ah ha!” He held up some sort of cord. “This will let me hook it up to my integrator.” He slotted the cord into the bottom of the iPhone and then crawled under his desk to fiddle around with some other things. “There we go,” Virgil said popping back up. “It might take a few minutes. Running the program any faster might overheat the phone.”

Janus nodded and sat back to wait. Virgil grabbed the phone and started to play around with it a bit even as it uploaded all of its information to his computer.

“Weird,” Virgil said after a moment.

“What?” Janus asked, sitting up straighter.

“There are exactly two contacts. Fewer than I’d anticipate for a regular phone from the 2010s. More than I would expect from one clearly not being used as a phone.

Virgil glanced to the side, and it must have finished the download because he unhooked it from the computer. “I have a 21st century phone network adapter,” Virgil said. “It transfers call back to whatever date the phone says. Do you want to try calling one?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Janus replied.

Virgil dug back into his desk for a small device that he plugged into the same port he’d plugged the earlier cord. “Okay, which contact do you want to try first?” he asked. “One has ‘Ro’ with a crown, red heart, and a gold star emoji. The other has “Lo” with a book, blue heart, and Milky Way emoji.”

“He mentioned a Lo,” Janus said. “So, try him first.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll put it on speaker.” He pressed some buttons before setting the phone on the desk between them.

The phone rang three times before with a bit of a crackle, it was answered. “Salutations,” a voice said, voice sounding a bit scratchy as though he had only just gotten up.

Virgil motioned with his head for Janus to speak. “Are you ‘Lo’?” he asked.

The man hummed. “To some people.”

Janus… didn’t quite know what to say to that, or even what questions he should ask.

“I’m assuming you’re the man that stole my associate’s phone.”

“Your associate?” Janus fished.

The man made an amused hum. “I believe you were calling him ‘Pat’ on your last adventure.” Janus could hear something being placed down on the other end of the phone. Before Janus could respond, he heard what sounded like an old keyboard being typed on. “Now,” Lo said. “I have to admit, I am surprised you were willing to oblige me so thoroughly by plugging the phone into your system. Let’s see…”

The screen on Virgil’s lit up bright blue all of a sudden. “…shit,” said Virgil.

“Well,” Lo said, “it seems you were clever enough not to plug it into the TPI system, which is disappointing, but…”

There was more clicking on the other end. “Hmm, interesting music tastes for the 4000s,” he said.

“I’m an anthropologist,” Virgil spoke up.

“Ah, yes, I can see that,” Lo replied. “Virgil Eran, senior professor at Silver Mountain University, a vetted member of the Cultural Outreach program, and searched the phrase ‘How to eat sushi without making a cultural blunder and making everyone hate you and losing your job because what kind of shit anthropologist doesn’t know how to eat raw fish right’ which you then shortened to ‘How to eat sushi’ and proceeded to search 52 times in the last 48 hours.”

Virgil went a bit scarlet around the ears. “Dude, did you really have to out me like that?” he hissed at the phone.

“My apologies,” Lo responded. “From my personal experience, don’t dip the rice parts in soy sauce, and don’t add too much wasabi. Overall, most people will be understanding of mistakes, and you will certainly not be fired or ostracized for handling food incorrectly. As long as you are not acting intentionally disrespectful, and I image you will not be considering your clear anxiety over whatever outing you are planning to attend, you will be fine.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good point, but counterpoint, what if you’re wrong and everyone hates me forever?”

“Is it the lunch meeting today at 11:30am?” Lo asked, “because I can see that a Professor Boris Laden has attended the event multiple years in a row. Considering he is a philosophy instructor, has no Japanese heritage that I can see, and I have found a photo of last year’s event wherein he has placed his chopsticks vertically in his rice, and he has yet to be fired or ostracized, I would postulate that your fears are unfounded.”

“Yeah but… okay, I really don’t have an argument for that one, except maybe I’m a piece of shit and everyone is looking for a reason to hate me.”

“Considering your many impressive accolades in your field, I would argue that ‘a piece of shit’ is not a good descriptor of you. Not to mention the fact that you are often a highly requested member for different committees in your department and outside of it.”

“Oh, but is that because people like me or because I’m an anxious mess and make sure events go off without a hitch?”

“From experience, disorder with people you enjoy the company of is far more tolerable than order with people you do not. Which explains my current living situation and the lack of finished dishes in my sink. Therefore, I would assume the former.”

22735

“A lot of assumptions,” Virgil commented, but he was smiling slightly.

“Assumptions based on data,” Lo argued back lightly.

“You really came in here, hacked into my computer and smacked my anxiety in the face, huh?”

“Glad to have helped.”

“Y-”

“Are the two of you finished?” Janus interrupted, finally getting sick of the two of them.

“Not nearly,” Lo said. “I have gained access to an entire network of a very large university and will be sorting through the data for a long time.”

“Ugh, right,” Virgil groaned, “and you got access through my integrator.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to trace it back to you if you don’t tell them.”

“Nice try,” Virgil said dryly, “but not likely. I’m telling them about you immediately so they can work to kick you out.”

Lo laughed. “Fair enough, but I’ve already gotten plenty of information at this point. Including the fact that you work with the TPI and scheduled an appointment with an Agent Janus Picani this morning set to start a few minutes before this phone call. So, hello Janus.”

“Bastard,” Janus shot back.

“And goodbye Professor Eran. It was a pleasure.” He hung up.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun to explain to both of our bosses.”

Arc II What We Do to Each Other

Chapter 16:

As it would turn out, Janus and Virgil did not get in trouble for hooking up the old phone to Virgil’s integrator, mostly because it wasn’t really a mistake on their part. The phone cleared all virus checks that the tech people both from the university and the TPI ran on it. The phone should have been clean and should not have caused an issue.

In fact, they were still trying to pin down the code on the general university server. They could tell that something was mucking about on the system but what or how was a mystery. This also meant that there was no telling what information had been compromised and considering how many things Silver Mountain had its hands in, that was… a bit worrying.

Another worrying thing was there was suddenly more activity of late at the TPI. There were more time distortions popping up every day. Usually they would be few and far in between. There had been 3 total recorded the year before, but over 12 in the last week. Some of them were fake like the one Janus had investigated, but some of them were real. It painted a distressing picture and also was a drain on their resources. Khalid was actually looking to advertise positions to hire new recruits which was something she rarely did as she liked to keep appointments to the TPI in house.

They’d even loosed the number of field agents needed for each mission and Janus and Remus had been splitting up just to get everything done. Today, he and Remus had thankfully only two missions scheduled for the day.

“Are we going together or separate today?” Janus asked Remus.

“Think they’ll burn me at the stake for being a witch if I go alone to either of them?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. I think we’re getting a bit late into the 1700s for that in Cuba, but I have no idea about Mesopotamia.”

“Let’s just go together. I did not like almost drowning yesterday because I was the only stranger in town when the weather was going wonky.”

“Surely it isn’t because you opened your mouth. Ever.” Janus said dryly.

“How was I supposed to know he was the local clergyman’s son?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “On second thought,” he said, pushing a button on his desk to choose Cuba as he next mission, and standing up. “I don’t want you coming with me.” Yet, he did not protest when Remus also signed up for the Cuba mission and he waited for him by the office door before going to talk to Rhi.

Rhi was a bit frazzled when which meant quite a bit as she was usually incredibly put together. Remus didn’t even seem inclined to tease her today.

“Okay,” she said once they’d closed the door behind them. She flipped through some documents on her desk. “Picani and Clockson. Camaguey Cuba 1755. Do you know Cuba?”

“Uh,” Janus said. “Yeah?”

“Like you’re reading the things, right? I don’t have to babysit you, right? You got it? The Seven Year War was happening, but it won’t affect you much as it hasn’t really hit Cuba. It’s the middle of the Camaguey Carnival. Everyone will be everywhere and there will be chaos so as long as you don’t really fuck up you should be fine. Um…apparent races.” She looked up at them and studied them each for a moment as thought looking at them for the first time despite having known them for years. “It’ll work. Go to costuming.”

“Shouldn’t we…” Janus said, “sign things?”

“…Yep,” she said, fiddling with her desktop and then sending documents over to their side to sign.

Janus and Remus both did before sending them back.

“Great. Good.” She stood and grabbed some things from behind her. “You can go.” She sat back down as they took their things and Janus noticed a message pop up on her desk. She looked up at Remus looking exhausted. “What?” she asked.

“Just open it,” Remus said.

Rhi tapped it and a photo opened.

“I got her a new mouse toy!” Remus said happily as Rhi looked at the picture of Diesel Fuel attacking a cloth mouse.

“That is… appreciated Agent Clockson,” Rhi said. “Now get out.”

They did, leaving to get their costumes on and checked. Costuming was just as busy and frazzled as Rhi had been and they actually had to wait for decon because there’d been a mix up with the agents leaving before them. They landed in Cuba without issue. Janus could already hear the festival in full swing outside the small building they’d were in. Remy was standing there with a very not time appropriate mug of coffee.

“Sue me,” Remy said when Janus raised an eyebrow at it. “Please just… get in and out without causing trouble. Seriously. I don’t want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“We’ll do our best,” Janus assured.

Remy pulled his sunglasses down to look at him. He looked exhausted. “God please do more than your best.”

Janus nodded tightly. “We’ll be in and out,” he said, already glancing at his timepiece. It had been disguised as a golden bracelet which made it a bit harder to actually use, but wrist watches wouldn’t be invented for more than a century, so they’d have to make do. “The time distortion, if that’s what it is, should be in the middle of town. Let’s go.”

He and Remus exited the building onto the packed city street.

Janus was immediately bombarded with all types of sights, sounds, and smells. There were many colorful articles of clothing and costumes as people went every which way along the street talking to other members of their community, playing instruments, and dancing. There was the sound of people speaking Spanish, still mostly almost pure Castilian Spanish with perhaps a bit of influence from Taino as the Haitian revolution had yet to push the Creole language over to Cuba. People must have been hard at work cooking different dishes for the carnival as many different spices wafted through the air. It was sticky hot considering it was the middle of June in the tropics and Janus was immediately sweating despite the temperature appropriate clothing he’d been outfitted with.

He glanced around their immediate area, just scoping out the crowds. His eyes were immediately drawn to one person near them.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said out loud when he saw Pat. Remus looked in the direction Janus was.

Even if Janus didn’t recognize him the moment he laid eyes on him, he probably still would have ended up staring as he was the only person in the area who clearly did not know how to do the dance he was attempting.

Remus snorted and Janus shook his head in secondhand embarrassment. “Well, would you look whose boyfriend’s here,” he said to Janus. Make that firsthand embarrassment. “Has anyone told him the Mambo wasn’t invented until the 1900s and also that’s not how you do it?”

Chapter 17

Pat stopped dancing the moment he saw Janus approaching him, but he still bobbed cheerfully ( and unrhythmically) to the music. “Hi Janus,” he said pleasantly.

“You just have to rub it in, huh?”

There was a flash of confusion across his face, but then he smiled. “Well, I know where in our relationship you are. How was France?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You stole the phone,” he laughed.

“You stole the bomb,” Janus countered, “and you wanted me to steal the phone. You booby trapped it.”

“No,” Pat correct, putting a finger up. “We have security on my phone because in high school I once forgot it in the school locker room and long story short, the three of us ended up in a lake. So, then Lo made sure I always had some sort of tracker on it. When I started time traveling, he updated it and when I met you we updated it again in case there was ever an opportunity like that. Lo calls it using our weaknesses to our advantage.”

“He’s a bastard too,” Janus growled.

Pat just laughed.

“Is someone talking about me?” Remus asked, stepping over to them. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Pat said, blinking at Janus’s partner for a moment. “Remus.” He hesitated slightly. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Remus asked. “Uh, I’m doing good. A little stressed out with work, but fine.”

“Good,” Pat said with just a little too much heartfulness to it.

“What?” Janus asked, eyes narrowed at Pat. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Pat asked. He met Janus’s eyes briefly and it made panic surge up Janus’s spine because the look Pat was sending him wasn’t one that said he was playing dumb. It was a warning.

Oh, Janus did not like this. That look told Janus Pat had some foreknowledge that he absolutely could not tell Janus about without messing up the timeline spectacularly. This was why this mess the two of them were mixed up in was so bad, but it seemed Janus did not have much of a choice when it came to Pat.

Despite how bad of an idea he knew it was, he still wanted to push, because whatever Pat was hiding could be very, very bad and it had to do with Remus. There were so many reasons Pat could be acting like that around Remus, but the worst ones were definitely the ones on his mind. Death, injury, illness. They were all possible especially in their line of work and especially with how time was being screwed with right now. And Pat knew. He knew exactly what the answer was, and oh did Janus want to push.

Experience knowing what worse things could come out of having foreknowledge made Janus bite his tongue.

“So, what are you two doing here,” Pat asked, and Janus unhappily let him change the subject.

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Janus replied.

“I don’t know,” Pat said innocently.

“There’s another time distortion,” Janus said, “and while you didn’t know what it was the last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure you do now.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a time distortion here. I can help you if you like,” he offered sweetly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if I could find the Flying Dutchman,” Pat told him.

“And so you went to Camaguey?”

“Uh huh.”

“One of the farthest places from the ocean in Cuba?”

“Is it?”

“I don’t trust you.”

Pat just shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want my help finding the time distortion, I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Wait,” he said when Pat went to turn away. Pat paused. Janus turned to Remus. “Remus, do you think he’s bullshitting me so I let him wander off and do whatever the hell he’s doing, or do you think he’s bullshitting me into letting him come with us.”

“Hmm,” Remus said, looking Pat up and down. Janus could immediately tell he wasn’t going to get any helpful answer. “Well, if we’re going with the how much do I get to see his, admittedly very sexy, ass criteria.” Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Letting him leave now means instant gratification and a nice full image when he turns away. However, letting him go with us means many more opportunities to get a glimpse, but they’d probably just be glimpses. So, yeah that’s a tough call.”

“You didn’t even bother to give me an actual hidden suggestion with that bullshit,” Janus groaned. He glanced at Pat only to see him hiding his very red face in his hands. Janus blinked. “Oh,” he said. “You got him, Remus.” Janus was surprised. He’d expected a bit more tenacity for someone with Pat’s personality. Of course, Janus was used to Remus, so that perhaps had some effect. Pat made a muffled distressed sound behind his hands and Janus raised an eyebrow. “You really got him.”

Pat flapped one hand around while still using the other to completely hide his face. “It’s just. His face. Saying that. Is weird.”

Janus could not say that he didn’t feel a slight spark of joy at seeing Pat flustered. After all, Pat’s weapon of choice had often been flirting with Janus in the past. However, he still smacked Remus on the shoulder when it looked like he was about to continue with something likely far more inappropriate. “We are here for a reason,” he reminded. He turned to consider Pat and squinted at him. “You’re coming with us, I’ve decided. I don’t want to let you out of my sights. Don’t,” he said empathically turning to Remus as the man opened his mouth once more.

Pat had mostly recovered, though his cheeks were just a bit pink still. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Where do we start?”

Janus glanced at his timepiece. “It’s not showing up on our trackers yet.”

“It messed with your tracker last time,” Pat pointed out.

“I know,” Janus said. “Which means it could be another fake one or whatever is causing it hasn’t started yet. If things start going wrong, but it still doesn’t show on our radar, it’s almost certainly a fake one, but some of the fake ones haven’t blocked our technology.”

“Here, I can check,” Pat said.

“Please don’t pull out an iPhone,” Janus begged.

Pat stuck out his tongue at him, and then smiled. He reached for the bracelet on his wrist and twisted it back and forth a few times before pressing his palms together. He glanced around them quickly to make sure no one around them was watching and then peeled apart his palms like he was miming reading a book.

“What the fuck is that, and how do I get one?” Remus asked immediately. It was innocuous, whatever it was. If someone from this time caught a glimpse of the display, they’d likely assume it was a trick of the light, but staring right at it, Janus could tell it was a map of the surrounding areas with a softly glowing blue light marking their current location. Janus could see no screen or origin of a hologram. It looked like the image was drawn onto the man’s palms, but as he watched, the image shifted to zoom out.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything major yet,” Pat said wiggling his fingers a bit. The display changed slightly to some sort of colorful overlay Janus did not understand. Pat hummed. “Did you two come from that building recently?” he asked nodding at it.

“Yes,” Janus replied. “How do you know?”

“There’s sometimes a slight temperature change when people time travel,” Pat explained. “I can read it on here.” He tilted his head. “There also seems to be a big enough temperature change in a church a few blocks away that could indicate time travel. Want to check it out?”

“We might as well,” Janus agreed.

“And if it’s nothing, we can get drunk on the communion wine!”

“He’s going to get immediately struck by lightning,” Janus said.

Chapter 18

“If we see anyone,” Janus said as they entered the church. “You keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me? Remus, do you understand me?”

Remus immediately turned to Pat. “You know, I didn’t grow up Catholic,” he said to Pat who looked at him in confusion. “So the first time I ever entered a Catholic church, you can’t blame me for being a little confused about the whole cabinet thing with a wall between them. After all, everyone was singing about glory to god and what not. So I…”

Janus slapped him. “This is why you were almost burned at the stake yesterday.”

“Excuse you,” Remus said, putting his hand over his heart. “I was almost drowned.”

“You were almost drowned?” Pat asked, his voice seeming legitimately distressed.

Remus shrugged a smile on his face that caused a Pavlovian migraine to start up behind Janus’s eyes. “It’s one of the hazards of the jobs, and really it would have all been worth it if I’d actually gotten to drown in that man’s…”

“We’re in a church!” Janus cut him off switching from Spanish to Swahili in the hopes that no random passersby would be able to understand him in this time and place. “Don’t talk about lewd sex things. Don’t talk about sex at all. It’s a Catholic church!”

Remus continued to speak in Spanish with no regard for anything. “But not talking about lewd sex things takes away 3/4ths of my personality,” he pouted.

“More like 9/10th,” Janus grumbled, “and the other 1/10th is just normal stupid.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be mean,” Pat scolded, in fucking English for some reason, “but Remus, honey, you probably shouldn’t be saying things like that right now.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Remus said switching to English.

“He’s my partner, I have the right to call him stupid,” Janus insisted.

“And I love you too!” Remus said in Greek because he was really, truly, stupid.

Pat looked between the two, but then seemed to accept it, dropping the concerned expression for a slightly amused one. “If you say so.”

“Can I… help you?” A voice asked. All three of them whipped around to see a young boy looking at them and seeming very confused. Which was fair considering that to his ears, they’d just been speaking nonsense.

“We’re here to pray!” Remus claimed, then he turned to wink at Pat and said under his breath in Swahili, “to that ass.” Pat went immediately bright red again, which was doubtlessly Remus’s aim. Janus subtlety stepped on his foot while smiling at the boy.

“Oh,” the boy said. “Okay.” Thankfully, he didn’t seem interested in questioning the random strangers in front of him further. “I’m going to go back to the celebration now.”

Janus smiled at him. “Have fun,” he said. He waited for the boy to leave through the front door before slapping Remus on the back of the head.

“Ow!” he whined sounding far too pained for how hard Janus had actually hit him.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Let’s just start investigating,” he said.

“Sure, sure, you never let me have any fun,” Remus said, pulling up his wrist and spinning the golden bracelets on his arm. “Hmm…” he said.

“What?” asked Pat.

“Either I put on the wrong jewelry this morning… or my timepiece isn’t working.”

“Well, then I’m guessing we’re in the right place,” Janus said. He turned to Pat. “Your stuff still working?”

Pat brought up whatever device was on his hands. “Yeah,” he said, “and it looks like something is just starting.” Just as he said it, there was a violent crash of thunder.

“Well,” Janus said. “We should probably find the source and soon. Which way?”

Patton glanced around himself and then motioned with his wrist. Suddenly there was a 3D display of the church in front of them.

Janus could see immediately where the problem had to originate. There was a swirling mass of some sort of energy centered at the top of the bell tower of the church. As he watched, he saw the picture of the church glitch out a bit. He had a bad feeling about that.

“Is there something wrong with your display?” he asked, or more hoped.

Pat shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so…” The room seemed to shift suddenly underneath their feet. It felt a bit like time travel, but also wrong. The picture on the display flickered harder, part of the building fracturing and dissolving before appearing back in place. The room settled after a moment, but Janus’s stomach did not.

“Whatever is going on,” Janus said, “We need to stop it right now.”

Pat nodded. “The quickest way up would be that way,” Pat said pointing. The display closed as he did.

“Then, let’s go,” Janus said.

The world was eerily calm as they all started off in the direction Patton had pointed out. In fact, it was almost too quiet.

“Where’s the nearest window?” Janus asked when they came out on the second floor.

Pat glanced at his hand. “There should be a couple a few feet that way.” Janus nodded and left them standing there. When he glanced out of the first window he came to, it appeared to be night. Yet, when he walked to the next window, he saw daylight.

26606

“Time is fracturing,” Janus informed them. “We need to be careful.” This time distortion was much more intense than any of the other ones the agency had been tracking down over the last few months. It had also come on much faster. Usually there was some time between when the time distortion began and it started having extreme effects on the environment. He was suddenly very glad that he and Remus had not split up today. He was even glad for Pat’s company, no matter how aggravating he may be sometimes. Not to mention, he was glad for the man’s technology that seemed to circumvent whatever was blocking Janus and Remus’s timepieces.

He backed away from the windows and returned to the others.

“Whatever you do,” Janus said. “Don’t let anyone be in a room alone.”

“I know what time fractures are this time,” Pat promised.

“It was as much for the idiot as it was for you,” Janus said.

“You accidently bring a bubonic plague infested rat to 900BC one time and you never live it down.”

“I’d say I should put a leash on you, but you’d twist it into something disgusting.”

“Probably,” Remus agreed.

“Where next?” Janus asked, ignoring him.

“That way,” Pat said.

They walked together to the door he’d indicated. “Please don’t be bullshit,” Janus prayed. He opened the door and immediately got bowled over by a stream of salt water.

#not writing #study break stories

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

summertime sadness .4.

tgif

Sequel to kiss me in the d-a-r-k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (masterlist under construction)

Warnings: dub con sex (oral)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and dark(professor!)Bucky explicit. 18+ only. I know they aren’t super dark, but like questionable so I’m keeping those tags just to be safe.

Summary: You settle into your new job but can’t get too comfortable.

Note: Okey, dokey. Here’s the fun part (for me at least). Still tryna figure out how exactly this one will pan out by part 6 but we’re all having a ride together, eh. Thanks everyone for their support and I love you all! 💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog, reply, or like. I’m loving the feedback from y'all and the enthusiasm! Also as always, memes accepted.

💋💋💋

It had only been a few weeks since your last visit to the university but it felt longer as you walked onto campus. Just as planned, you were due to meet Bucky in his office. He texted you as you rode the subway. He was eager to start his ‘marking’. You smirked and wondered how long he’d last at that.

You entered the English Building, the elevator back in service and empty. Not many instructors were in their offices on a Saturday and most students were hungover or readying for another party. You knocked on Bucky’s door before you entered. He had a stack of essays on his desk as he sat behind them listlessly.

“Finally,” He said.

“I slept in.” You replied. “For the first time in a week.”

“Then you’ll have lots of energy,” He reached below his desk, the sound of his zipper discernible beneath it. “I’ve got about forty papers here.”

“Forty? And how many do you think you’ll get to?”

“Knowing that mouth, maybe one.” He snickered. “Come on, baby, I’m rock hard over here.”

He rolled his chair back as you neared and set your purse down behind his desk. He slapped your ass and you got to your knees. You grinned up at him as you ducked under his desk and gripped his thighs as he pushed closer. You pulled down his briefs and his cock sprung out. He groaned and grabbed his pen.

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, baby.”

“You’ve got marking to do,” You reprimanded and stroked him. “Now get to work.”

You stretched your lips over his tip and he groaned. He slid closer and you could hear the clumsy scratching of his pen on paper. As he reached the back of your throat, his leg twitched. You pushed past your gag reflex and he nearly choked. You pulled back and felt the shiver in him.

“Mmm,” He hummed and flipped a page. “Just like that.”

The sloppy sounds of your mouth added to the flutter above, the scribbles of ink. You bobbed your head steadily, every now and then forcing him to your limit and holding him there. And then you stopped as a knock came at the door. You both froze.

“Shit,” He pushed himself against the desk entirely and trapped you underneath it. The front shielded you from view on the other side. “Keep going.”

“Buck---”

“Slowly, quietly.” He grabbed his dick and slapped it against your lips. “Now.” He cleared his throat and shoved your head down as he glided into your mouth again. “Come in.” He called and the door opened.

Your eyes widened as he pulled his hand away. You carefully dragged your tongue along his length.

“Hey,” He greeted in a smooth tone. “Tanya.”

“Sorry to disturb,” His visitor replied. “I was just grabbing some stuff from my office and I just remembered I still had this.”

A thump sounded on the top of the desk as you slobbered down his cock.

“Thanks,” He said and squeezed his legs around you. “I almost forgot myself if I’m being honest.”

“I owe you one,” She said. You recognized her voice. She taught the other section of journalism, though you had her for a social movements class in your first year. “Maybe a drink. I could hang around til you finish with those.”

“Ah, you know, I wish I could,” He lamented. “But I promised a buddy I’d swing around to watch the game.”

You kept from gagging and held your breath, afraid to give yourself away.

“You don’t seem like the sports type,” She countered.

“Not really but a few beers and I am,” He dismissed her easily.

“You sure you’re not avoiding me?” Her toe tapped impatiently just on the other side of the desk.

“Avoiding you?” He chuckled. A slight quaver in his voice as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Why would I be doing that?”

“Well… Ever since our little… you know…” She hesitated to say it aloud.

“I thought we agreed that it was just a little fun.” He said and you stopped suddenly. He nudged you with his toe and you wrapped your lips around him once more. “A drunken bit of fun.”

“Hmmm…” She sounded disappointed. “You free tomorrow?”

“Sorry, maybe next weekend,” He said. “But I really gotta finish here.”

“Okay, okay,” She accepted with a trill. “We’ll sort out a time then.”

“Sure,” He confirmed unconvincingly. “Next weekend. See ya.”

“Bye,” Her voice was cheerier as her heels clicked back across the floor and the door opened and closed once more.

You tried to pull away but he caught your head and held you down as he emptied himself down your throat. You choked and smacked at his thigh as he cupped his sac with his other hand. He left your mouth salty and sore as he slipped out and rolled back with a sigh.

You spit his cum into your hand and crawled out from under the desk. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, I had to-- fuck, I almost came with her right there.” He grabbed a tissue and handed it to you.

“You could’ve warned me,” You wiped your hand off with a grimace. “What was that anyway? Did you fuck her?”

“Why? You jealous?” He cleaned himself up and zipped up his pants.

“No,” You rolled your eyes. “But I did just suck you off within two feet of her as she obviously wanted to do the same.”

He laughed and pushed his shoulders back. “It was months ago. Before… us. There was a conference, there was wine, and I regret it.” He sighed. “And she looks back on it fondly but… lots of teeth and she was stiff as a fucking board.”

“Wow,” You said dryly and wiped your mouth. “You know, I’m barely surprised.”

“This… thing between you and I, it’s not--”

“It’s just a bit of fun. Trust me, I get it. I haven’t got time for anything but.” You tossed the kleenex in the small bin beside his desk. “Right? That’s what it is?”

“So much fun,” He assured you. “You wanna hang around till I’m finished?”

“Thought you already were,” You jibed. His brow furrowed and you grinned. “Sure,” You pulled up a chair. “I got nothing better to do.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” He said. “Besides, I might need some more help sooner than later.”

💋

You scribbled along the margin of your agenda and dropped the pen. The keys clacked beneath your fingers as you typed up a manic sentence. Your screen glowed back at you as the seconds ticked by with each letter. So enthralled by your task that the speck in your peripheral gave you a start.

You leaned back and turned your chair to face the man watching you. Loki’s lithe fingers swept up your golden pen and he admired the engraved letters beneath the fluorescent light. You watched him nervously as you pushed yourself away from your keyboard.

“Mr. Laufeyson.” You greeted him meekly. “I am just finishing the blurb you wanted.”

“Hard at work, as always,” He mused as he carefully set the pen back on your desk. “A beautiful pen…”

“A gift,” You smiled awkwardly.

“Well, I hate to interrupt you so I will let you finished,” His fingers brushed along your desk and he leaned on it as he casually cross his right leg in front of the other. “But when you have, I would like a moment in my office before you leave for the day.”

“Of course,” You affirmed. “It shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”

“As you will,” He stood straight and smoothed his jacket and buttoned it. “Then you are free to enjoy your weekend.”

“Okay,” You nodded and he turned away.

You watched him go, his strides long but lingering as he retreated to his office. The usual crowd had thinned out and Stacey was readying for her own departure. You spun back to your computer and resumed your work. Your second week down and not a stumble yet. You dared to be proud of yourself. Even, to be happy.

Another weekend ahead of you and you weren’t entirely excited. You liked being in the office; liked working with the other journalists, writers, and editors. Enjoyed your chance to shadow one of the most powerful men in New York publishing. And he had achieved it all at such a young age. You could only hope to achieve as much in the next fifteen years.

It was more than a bullet point for your resume, it was your own paradise.

So you finished up your blurb and attached it to an email. You logged out and packed up your agenda and pen beside your laptop. You pushed your chair in as you hooked your bag over your shoulder and trod tentatively to Loki’s office. You knocked on the open door and he looked away from his screen.

“Ah, there you are,” He beckoned you in with a wave. “Close the door behind you, please.”

You glanced back into the main office and did as he said. You stepped inside and sat across from him, your bag set down against the leg of the chair. His green eyes focused on you and he tilted his head as he absently traced his fingers over his phone. You fidgeted as you struggled not to shy away.

“I just wanted to check in,” He said. “And I was recently reviewing your references.”

“My references?” You wondered.

“Mmm,” He hummed. “Your professors speak highly of you. One of the reasons I even considered a second year, let alone one who had so suddenly changed majors, was a certain word on your behalf.”

“Okay?” You were confused and gripped the arms of the chair as you blinked at him dumbly.

“James Barnes has earned his tenure at the university and on occasion, he has written pieces for my own magazine. A respectable writer, admirable in his work both in teaching and otherwise. And when he proposed this workshop, the tours, I thought it was a charming idea. He proved me right so I had no doubt when he spoke to me of you.”

You gulped but said nothing. Your stomach churned and you brought your hands together and wrung them.

“You see,” He lifted his phone and blindly unlocked it. “You have lived up to his reference and your work is commendable…” He smirked as he flicked a finger across the screen. “But I still questions the veracity of his endorsement as I find his integrity has come into doubt.”

He set his phone down and slid it across the desk. He nodded for you to pick it up. You slid forward on your chair and took it. Your lips parted in horror as you stared at the screen. It was you and Bucky in the bookshop, your lips locked and his arms wrapped around you. You looked up, mortified, as the phone shook in your grasp.

“I…” The breath went out of you and you put the phone back on the desk before it could fall. “How did you--”

“It’s a quaint little shop.” He purred. “I venture in every now and then.”

You chewed your lip as your cheeks burned.

“You do realize that this could be… damaging. To you more than him.” He stood slowly and came around the desk to stand before you. “He has tenure, he is established. You, my dear, you’re barely getting started.”

You gaped up at him. The pet name unsettled you and you wiped your sweaty hands on your thighs.

“And aside from the ethical dilemma, I do wonder what a girl your age sees in a man his age. Especially when your work speak so boldly on its own.”

You shook your head, speechless.

“Surely there are boys your own age who would be delighted to offer you… companionship.”

“I never… I would never use him like that.” You insisted. “It’s all… my work. My own work.”

“Oh, I know it, dear,” He said as his lips curled. “But to risk that work on him? On an affair better fit to a dime store erotica?”

“Are you-- Are you going to report him? Me?” You asked. “Am I fired?”

“Well,” He leaned on the desk, his long fingers gripped it’s edge as he leered down at you. “That depends on you, my dear.”

“Me?” You squeaked.

“Oh yes, this is a very powerful secret, don’t you think?” He slithered. “And in our business, well, it would sell.”

“What do you want?” You asked.

He pushed himself away from the desk and reached to tickle your cheek. His fingers crawled along your chin and he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I haven’t yet made up my mind,” He bent so that his face was only inches from yours. “But when I do, my dear, you will appease me, won’t you?”

You shuddered but didn’t pull away. You were too frightened. A lock of his dark hair fell forward as his pale skin shone sinister in the lamp light. His green eyes bore into yours and you wanted desperately too look away.

“Y-yes,” You stammered weakly. “I--I will.”

“Very good,” He drew away slowly. “Now, darling, go enjoy your weekend.” He scooped up his phone and tucked it in his pocket. “And give the professor my regards.”

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 5 years ago

Text

But? Damian Wayne • Tim Drake

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader, Tim Drake x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: you go through a lot because of Tim and Damian but in different ways.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, sexual innuendos, language, fluff, a very light mention of violence, light mentions of insecurity, is rain a warning?

A/N: the fact that every fic I’ve written for these characters has the same concept is very funny but I definitely see the appeal and the potential.

Based off these YouTube videos: one two three

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Replaying it didn’t make it easier to digest. After months of plans to move in together and talks about adopting a dog, Tim had broken up with you. He fell for someone else, a person he spoke about often.

She was a coworker of his, a gorgeous woman if anyone asked you. You could never blame him for falling for someone like her, she looked like a model and was a badass agent — it just hurt.

Now you were packing the belongings he kept at your place to send them to him with Alfred. It seemed like he couldn’t only break your heart and walk away, Tim also had to humiliate you. Out of respect, Alfred didn’t ask anything at all, he merely reminded you he was always available for you and wished you a good night.

The TV show playing in front of you wasn’t being processed by your brain. Curled up on the bed, covered with the duvet and a fuzzy blanket, you were desperately trying to conceive some sleep, for your brain to at least calm down so your head would stop throbbing and your eyes twitching.

Startled by tapping on the window, you were forced to swallow the mucus clogging your nose. Coughing, you rolled on the bed to asses who had disturbed you. Upon realizing it was just Robin, you begrudgingly left the bed to open the window.

He entered the room without saying anything, waiting for you to lock the window and close the curtains to take his domino mask off. He always did that, no matter how many times you told him no one would see him.

Damian stared down at the dozens of used Kleenex in the trashcan you kept near the bed. “Why are you upset?”

“I thought you knew...” your voice was strained, throat too tired due to the sobbing.

“I clearly don’t.”

“Tim dumped me for someone else.” Saying it in front of his brother was even worse than you had imagined. “Why are you here if it isn’t because I forgot to pack his brown jacket?”

Damian plopped down on your desk chair, staring directly at you, “patrol was boring and father is with Kyle again.”

Nodding, you went back to your spot on the bed, making yourself comfortable with a pillow on your lap.

“Are you tired?”

You were, but you didn’t want to be alone. “Not at all,” you lied so he wouldn’t dare leave. “Do you want to watch that movie you recommended to me last month?”

“Sure.”

Browsing through different streaming services until you found the film, you saw Damian take parts of his suit off in order to be more comfortable. Surprising you, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, once you had found the title.

You had to admit that paying attention was easier with him around, probably because you didn’t want to annoy him. The film did its job, you finally got distracted — you also fell asleep.

It became a routine, every night he would tap on your window and make you company. Some nights you would stay up until sunrise when you had to go to work, others he would be so tired he’d crash out on your couch, and a few nights you fully rested because his presence made you feel calmer.

Damian and you had never been too close, he and Tim had a complicated relationship and you didn’t want to have problems with your now ex-boyfriend. Now you hoped you had, he wasn’t what you had thought — Damian was nicer than every member of the family made him out to be, funnier, smarter, kinder. You genuinely enjoyed being around him.

He was extremely patient with you. He’d recommend you things to entertain yourself, let you vent when you needed, and without having to do it, would often make sure you had been eating properly because he had observed that between how much you had cried the days after the breakup, your job, and your lack of sleep you were low on energy. Damian had even spent an entire week helping you redecorate the apartment to cheer your spirit.

Being close to Damian meant spending time at the park with Titus, a shit ton of it, and trying new food every weekend, and visiting art galleries which had never been your thing. Being close to Damian also meant worrying because with all of his skills and abilities he was the most stubborn man you had ever met who often fought blindly just to end up in the Batcave's medical wing with a worried Alfred calling you to let you know your friend was hurt but alive.

Most importantly, being close to him meant feeling free to be yourself. You were sure no one would believe you, but it had never been truer.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Elevators had you tired, ironically. The only reason you hadn’t taken the stairs was that you were carrying a portfolio full of documents, a book bag, your purse, and a coat — everything was wet, just like you. Taking an umbrella would’ve saved you many nuisances, or not walking home from work, but you were too distracted in the morning to remember and now you were paying for it thanks to the rain that came with the nearing seasonal change.

You liked the rain, its sound was soothing, the smell made you aware of your own existence as it awakened your senses, you felt cleansed by it. A lovely thing to experience overall, just not after a long day of work.

Stepping out the second the elevator doors slid open, you took the keys out of your coat with your right hand. You let the straps of your purse slide down to your forearm as you flexed your arm while introducing the key in the lock, when it turned, you sighed out of relief and pushed the door open to finally get inside.

The lights were already on, sizzling echoed around the small apartment and a familiar smell of stir-fried vegetables hit your nose. You hung your coat, letting it drip as much water it naturally could before even daring to put it into the dryer.

Walking further into the apartment, you found Damian in the kitchen. He was wearing the comfiest clothes you had seen him on, sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt with only a pair of white socks.

“What are you doing in here with this weather?” you asked, taking a look at what he was cooking.

“I was bored.”

He always said the same, you always told him you didn’t believe him but he ignored it every single time. Patting his back, you announced you would get changed.

“Don’t take too long, dinner will get cold!”

As much as you were fine with Damian being there( and his cuisine,) you had to wonder why couldn’t he tell you his reasonings for his presence at your place. One thing was him visiting when you were there and another him practically breaking into your apartment — you were open to give him a copy of the keys, to be honest, but you would really appreciate it if he asked.

Dinner was delicious, shared over talk about your day. Damian was avoiding speaking about his day, about his entire week actually — in the past month and a half he hadn’t done anything close to that.

Sat on the couch in order to continue bingeing the show the two of you had started last week, you considered asking him what was going on with him. It partially scared you, the last time a member of that family had acted like that toward you they broke your heart.

Taking a deep breath, you threw your head backward to rest it against the edge of the sofa. Damian watched you, frowning. “Are you okay?”

You answered in a hum. “You?”

“Peachy.”

You moved around the couch, opening your eyes to stare at him. He stared back, the frown slowly disappearing from his face as seconds passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you inquired in a timid voice.

“Father is planning on retiring.”

“Oh... are you taking over?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t picture anyone but him doing it. Dick had been miserable as Batman, Jason wasn’t interested in being like Bruce after everything that had happened, and Cass was finally finding a balance in her life.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am.”

“But?”

He shook his head, “but nothing. It was a long day.”

For your mental wellbeing, you didn’t press on it. He was clearly hiding something from you but he had the right to do so. It made you feel bad but whatever.

The lights flickered, prompting you to groan. The storm was getting worse, the sky was rumbling with thunder and the lighting striking the city and flashing into the living room through the thin white drapes was as mesmerizing as terrifying.

You mumbled, “can you stay?”

“Yes.”

Damian walked behind you, holding the flashlight from his cellphone to light the path toward your bedroom. You undid the bed quickly so he wouldn’t have to hold the device up for so long, you were sure it wasn’t an inconvenience to him but you still didn’t want to bother him.

He sat down on the bed, just next to you, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can sleep next to me if you want.” You felt your face burn up the second the words left your mouth yet you meant them. Oh, you did.

You heard shuffling. Assuming he was taking his sweatshirt off to get into bed, you moved away from the middle of the mattress toward the farthest side from him.

Getting under the duvet, Damian laid on his back. His cologne mixed with his usual smell of vanilla and almonds filled your nostrils as he dropped his head onto the pillow with his arms crossed against his front.

“Dami?” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment. “Can you get closer? I’m cold.”

With no hesitation, he turned over in order to lay on his side. Throwing his arm around you from behind, “Is that better?”

You relaxed with your back against his chest, letting a content sigh out. Damian inhaled deeply, taking a whiff off you. He did it again then, finding the smell of your lotion soothing. As he relaxed too, his arm curled around you more comfortably with his hand laying on your plump belly. You placed your hand on top of his, a little nervous yet excited. Being held was a nice feeling, one you had forgotten.

He lifted his fingers, brushing yours. You intertwined your fingers between his, playing with them. He huffed a light breath, caressing the sides of your fingers as you played with his.

Turning around, you got lost into the ethereal way the light from the lamppost entering through the window illuminated Damian’s side profile. He opened his mouth to probably say something but you abruptly shut him up. You did know what overcame you, it was something that had been simmering in you for the past month — the need of being near him, the butterflies that swarmed inside you when he laughed, the peace he brought you. He surprised you by kissing back.

“Shit,” you exclaimed, realizing you had actually done it. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted to assure you. He placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in again. “Can we do it again?”

You kissed him again, feeling him tighten his arm around you in order to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss too, prying your mouth open as you held his face in order to ground yourself mentally. Damian laid you on your back, pushing you into the mattress as he straddled you — his lips didn’t leave yours, not even as both of you whimpered while his hands trailed up and down your thighs and yours mapped his back. Full-on making out with your best friend wasn’t how you pictured your shitty day ending, but you weren’t about to complain.

Damian couldn’t keep his lips off your face, enjoying the softness of your cheeks under his mouth and seeing the natural twitches of your nose which made him realize you were actually awake. He hoped he hadn’t awakened you up.

“I thought you were asleep.” The depth of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Were you pretending?”

You hummed, “it was hard with all those kisses.”

“I wasn’t kissing you,” he said teasingly, using his index and middle fingers to lift your head in order to continue kissing your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

He answered, “yes. The best in months.” It felt good knowing you weren’t the only one.

Damian hugged you close with both arms, exhaling happily, “you’re very warm.”

Hiding your face in his chest, you hugged back. You didn’t know what it meant, or the meaning behind the gesture of still cuddling in bed with the guy you had started developing feelings for mere weeks after breaking up with his brother. But it didn’t matter, you were comfortable in his arms and happy with seemingly having cracked his shell.

You had to ask, however. “Did I overstep last night?”

“No, I told you it was okay.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He pulled away enough to fully face you. You attempted to ignore him, shifting under his gaze. Damian licked his lips, “did I make you think otherwise?”

You shook your head, the sound the friction of the side of your face made against the pillow too loud for your liking. “I just... I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Is this ruining our friendship?”

You stuttered, “I— I think so?” You weren’t sure.

“I want to ruin it,” he stated, eyes fixed on yours, “more than anything.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth as he said it, his full lips tempting you again. You were scared of the lack of guilt you were feeling, but you happily gave in. “Let’s ruin it, then.”

Smiling brightly, he dipped his face in order to kiss you. You were certain you would never get over his soft lips, the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his touch, his intoxicating scent, his silky voice... God, he truly had you smitten.

Nuzzling against your shoulder, he intertwined his legs with yours. “I don’t want to get out of bed yet.”

You giggled. “Then don’t.”

Damian decided he could do that, just cuddle his favorite person in the world until something came up, maybe.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You had been typing on your computer, as music harmonized your den-office when the doorbell rang. Looking at the time to try and guess who could be visiting you on a Tuesday noon, you pushed yourself back, away from the desk, in order to stand up.

Dot, the Labrador you had adopted no long ago wiggled her tail from her spot near the couch as you crossed the living room. She loved laying there, she had a good view of the door and could jump on you the second you got home.

You regretted opening the door the second you faced your visitor. Tim Drake smiled timidly at you, “hi, (Y/N).”

“I— uh, hello?” You tilted your head, confused as to what he was doing there, who had given him the address and why had he thought he would be welcome.

“Can I come in?”

You lifted your index finger. “Just a second.”

Opening the guest-closet, you took a pair of slippers out and padded back toward the door. Tim looked down at the slippers you were offering to him, then at his shoes — as he did, he realized you weren’t wearing any footwear.

He complied, taking his shoes off and sliding his feet into the slippers. When he asked where to put the pair of footwear he had just taken off, you pointed to a mat next to the door, just under the key holders. You closed the front door as he dropped his shoes.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, eyes taking in as much of the space around him as possible, “your taste has changed! How long has it been?”

“A little over a year and a half.”

“We really need to catch up!”

You motioned for him to sit down on the couch. Dot curiously stared at him when he did so while you asked, “do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be fine,” he answered just to have more time to examine the living room. It was extremely luxurious, with a vaulted ceiling and oversized windows.

Curious about the overall design of the penthouse, and how good your job had to be for you to be able to pay for such living arrangements, he followed you toward the kitchen where you were preparing his coffee. It was as full of luxury as the living room, with stainless steel appliances, granite counter-tops and a breakfast bar the size of your previous apartment’s entire kitchen.

“How have you been?” He asked, sliding his palm against the marbled breakfast bar.

“I’ve been great.” You gave him a tight smile, placing the sugar bowl onto the bar.

“I’m glad. How’s your family?”

“They’re great, thank you.” Out of courtesy, you asked, “how have you been?”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “well, after I abruptly broke up with you, from which I’m very sorry because I was a dick, my girlfriend broke up with me too...”

“I’m sorry.” You genuinely felt for him, being dumped out of the blue wasn’t something you wished upon anyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, you handed it to him.

“It’s okay,” he smiled openly, nodding as a thank you for the coffee and dropping a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into the beverage, “I’m over it. I moved to Europe when Bruce said he needed someone to supervise the branch of the company there, the drama wasn’t good for my spirit.”

“Why are you back? It’s not like Gotham has changed.”

“My best friend is getting married.”

You hummed, finding estrange that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

“You have a new boy or anything?”

You stuttered, dropping a teabag into a cup, “perhaps.”

“Come on, (N/N), tell me! I won’t get mad.” He deviated his gaze. “I’m over you and everything.”

You confessed then, pouring hot water on top of the herbs, “I am dating Damian.”

“Which Damian?”

You waited for your ex-boyfriend to swallow the sip of coffee he had just taken and took the opportunity to have a sip of tea to calm your nerves. “Wayne,” you explained.

“You’re dating my little brother?!” He whisper-shouted. You simply nodded. “For how long?”

“Eleven months.”

“So what? You ran into his arms as soon as I broke up with you?!”

You didn’t appreciate the tone he was using or what he was insinuating. Definitely not when he had cheated on you without for once thinking of sparing your feelings.

“Damian was there for me when no one else had the time, it just happened.”

“I thought you were going to stay away from my family,” he reproached you.

In all honesty, you had thought the same thing. As much as Alfred had told you to call him if you needed anything when he went to pick up the belongings Tim kept at your place, you hadn’t planned on doing it — but that same night, when Damian arrived, tired after a long patrol, and playing dumb by saying he had just dropped by because he was bored you decided you didn’t have to, you didn’t want to. Eventually, you evolved, as many things had after that night, not for Damian nor because of him but next to him, with his patience and support.

“I can’t believe you,” he shook his head.

“I thought you were over me.”

“I’m not jealous! But you deserve better than him — you’re so pretty and nice and he’s selfish and mean and depends on Bruce for everything.”

That didn’t sound like Damian at all. “Maybe you don’t know your brother.”

“You’re telling me he’s changed? Because I don’t believe it.”

You couldn’t be a testimony of Damian’s change when you had never seen the version Tim described, but you could definitely say Damian was everything you had always wanted in a partner and more — he was what you needed, what you loved.

“You still can do way, waaaaaay better than him,” Tim interpreted your silence as a confirmation of Damian’s change.

“Like who, Timothy?”

“Like me!” he exploded, clenching his eyes shut for a couple seconds to control his breathing. “I’ll go straight to the point: I miss you. I came back to get you back, there’s no wedding. I was too stupid to see what I had when I had it, I know, but I’ve changed,” he assured, “I have a new philosophy, I’m surrounded by better people. I’m not blind anymore.”

“Neither I am.”

He ignored your comment and went on, “let’s just start again. In another country, a new house. We’ll adopt as many puppies as you want!” Tim took an envelope out, “I have two plane tickets here for tomorrow. One is yours.”

The front door unlocked loudly, prompting both you and Dot to crane your necks in order to stare at it. Damian pushed it open, shoes in hand and blazer draping over his forearm.

You saw him focus on the pair of shoes on the mat for mere seconds before Dot happily wiggled her tail at him as she approached him. Damian threw his blazer to the nearest couch, quickly undoing his tie which followed suit, before hunching down to pet the little dog.

Out of habit, you left the kitchen to walk toward him and greet him. He stood back up, naturally towering over you and kissing you softly, “hello, beloved.”

You giddily smiled, forgetting you weren’t alone, “hi, handsome. I missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you inhaled his scent. God, you had truly missed him. Sleeping without him wasn’t the same, nor having to rely on music or the tv for the place to not feel alone. Two days of not hearing his voice not waking up tangled up with him were too much sometimes.

Damian put his hands on your waist, sighing at finally being able to touch your soft body again. “I missed you more.” He leaned downward, placing his lips on yours again.

“(Y/N),” Tim pleaded from behind you, making you jump.

Damian parted from you, looking past your shoulder and directly at his brother. “Drake. What are you doing in here?”

You stepped to the side, opting for opening the terrace’s door so Dot could have some fun outside. In the background, as you leant against the doorway and watched the little dog sniff the terrace, you heard Tim say Alfred had given him the address. Oh, sweet Alfred, always trying to keep the family together.

Turning around, you saw them both sit down in front of each other in the living room. Trying to keep them from fighting, you walked back into the room and sat down next to your boyfriend.

Tim immediately told you, “please don’t throw it all to waste for him.”

Both Damian and you frowned. He put his hand on your thigh, like he had done the first time he had taken you to a business dinner as his date, like he had grown used to do under any table. It was your favorite gesture, he wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he still made sure to always be touching you — the fact that he loved your thighs when you had always been insecure due to their size was a nice addition.

“I’m over you, Tim. Damian is my boyfriend, and with who I want to be.”

“He’ll never love you like I do, he can’t.” Tim’s tone was the harshest you had heard from him.

He was right, though. Damian would never love you like Tim did, that was the whole point. You didn’t want what Tim had to offer, the kind of love he could give — you were past that, you had been for a long time now and it felt amazing.

Tired and spent, Damian hugged you extremely tightly while cuddling that night, almost to the point where you struggled to breathe. Wiggling in his arms in order to turn around and face him, you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could.

“What’s wrong, Dami?”

“Nothing.”

You dropped yourself onto your back, struggling to bring him in but ultimately succeeding. Damian sighed, shifting to be more comfortable as he laid his head on your bare chest.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Damian inhaled your scent, sighing in content — he was in his safe place. “I sometimes forget not everyone sees me the way you do.”

You supposed he was referring to Tim’s assumptions about him. “Does it bother you?”

“Only when they use it to try putting you against me.”

“You know they would never succeed, right?” You needed him to be aware of that.

“I do.”

“But?”

He moved to hover over you, fitting his legs between yours as he propped himself up with his elbows. “But it’s different when your ex does it. And no, I’m not jealous, I do trust you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. You understood what he meant, perfectly so. Damian had been there to pick up the pieces, he had helped you glue them together and even taught you to tweak them so the final piece would look better — with that, beautiful things had bloomed, but in between many tears had been shed on your behalf and many confessions had been made regarding your feelings in general; sprinkle in how hard it had been to process the fact that you had fallen for each other and you could understand where he was coming from. There was a piece of Damian in you, and there was a piece of you in him; at every level.

“It’s not relevant anymore, love,” you reminded him.

Damian caught your lips in a tender kiss, humming. “I just wish he wasn’t back.”

“He’ll be gone by tomorrow. And if he isn’t, I don’t care.” You started playing with his hair, unconsciously running your fingers up and down through his locks. “But I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with your brother because of me.”

“We’ve spoken about that.”

Damian had never been able to get along with Tim, his relationship with Dick was great and he had even built one with Jason, Cass was his favorite, and he had gotten to meet with Helena a few times. However, his resentment toward Tim heightened when you two started frequenting each other — he seemed to now despise him.

You tilted your head to pepper kisses over his jaw. “You’ll manage, Damian. You ignored him for years.”

Your boyfriend sighed dramatically, letting his weight gradually fall on top of you. Placing his hand on your cheek, he smirked before burying his face in your neck. “Besides,” Damian mumbled, “he’s not the one keeping you up tonight.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x plus size reader #plus size fanfiction #plus size reader #robin x reader #robin x plus size reader #damian wayne #robin #dc x plus size reader #dc x reader #batfam x plus size reader #batfam x reader

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myveryownfanfiction · 4 years ago

Photo

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

Chapter 6

AN: Warning for abuse.

The weekend after John’s birthday went by too slow for my liking. He had gone back home to his dad and I hadn’t seen him all weekend. I knew he was okay since we texted the entire time but I was still concerned for him. Monday morning came with a sigh of relief when I saw him waiting for me at the end of my driveway. John caught me as I rushed into him. A quick kiss was pressed to my lips before he took my hand and started to walk to the bus stop.

“How did this weekend go?” I asked timidly. John fidgeted a little before pulling the collar of his shirt down. I gasped as I saw the burn mark on his collarbone. “John.” I whispered as I fixed his shirt. He shook his head before gathering me in his arms again.

“It’s fine.” He whispered. “It was almost out so it barely did anything.” I shook my head as I tried to pull away from him.

“It’s not fine.” I countered. “John, I’m scared of what he’s going to do next. What he’s going to do when he’s too drunk and doesn’t know what he’s doing.” John looked at me solemnly. The bus pulled up, putting our conversation on a slight pause.

“I’ll get out before then.” John reassured me once we were seated.

“And what happens when you don’t?” I asked. John smiled sadly at me. I looked up at him waiting for an answer. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my temple as we headed off to school. I kept a tight grip on him the entire time. When we pulled up to the school, I had made up my mind.

“It’s all going to be fine (Y/N).” John said, walking backwards into the building. I pushed him so he was walking forwards again. “I promise.” I sighed and dropped the conversation. The morning went by fairly quickly. At lunch, I brought it back up again.

“I know you said it was going to be fine and that you would get out before something bad happens but I think we need to talk about this.” I said as I put my tray down on the table. John looked up at me as I tossed my bag next to it.

“Alright.” he nodded as he ate a fry. “If it will make you feel better.” I nodded as I sat down next to him.

“It will.” John motioned for me to go ahead. “I’m just putting this idea out there and you can shoot me down if you really want to but I have this idea on how to make this better than what it is.”

“What is it?” John turned towards me. I pulled out my laptop and logged in.

“What if we rented an apartment?” I said timidly. “We would only have to tell my parents. And Chas in case he ever visits. You would be safe and I could finally try living on my own.” John gazed at me in shock.

“Seriously?” He asked. “What about school? What about paying for the apartment?” I put my hand on top of his.

“My parents will help us pay.” I said. “Besides, school ends for us in a couple months anyway. After that, we talk to my parents and we’ll figure it out.” John watched as I turned my laptop to show him the apartment that my parents and I had looked at. “John, you need to get out. This is the only way we could think of that would keep you safe.” He leaned closer to the screen and nodded as he started going through the virtual tour.

“You said we.” John turned his attention back to me. “You would move in with me?” I chewed on my bottom lip as I nodded. “You would really do that?” Again I nodded. John pulled me close and hugged me tightly. I closed my eyes as I held him equally as tight and ran my fingers through his hair.

“Of course I’m going to move in with you.” I whispered. “Who else would? Chas? I don’t think he could put up with you as well as I do.” I joked as John sniffled. I kissed his temple and held him tighter. “Someone needs to take care of you John Constantine. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

“Thank you so much luv.” John pulled back and wiped his nose. “This means the world to me. When should we move in?” I chuckled and texted my mom.

“Well, as soon as the two of us check it out in person and my parents give us the money for the first couple months’ rent, we can move in.” I started to pack up my laptop and John nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.” We finished our lunch, making plans for what we were going to do once we got our own place. The afternoon passed equally as quickly and before we knew it John was sneaking through my window again. “Miss me luv?” He joked as he collapsed on my bed.

“You know I did.” I kissed him and curled up into him. “So we have a meeting with the landlord on Saturday to look at the apartment.” John grinned as he looked down at me.

“Sounds good. And after we look and pay the rent we can move in?” John asked. I nodded. “Good. Because I need to get out of there as soon as possible.” I sat up in shock. It must have gotten terrible at home for John to finally admit that he needed to leave.

“What happened John?” I asked. John swallowed before pulling me close again.

“He threatened to chain me up in the basement.” John admitted. “He was trying to hit me with the belt again and he,” John broke off and shook his head. “He caught my leg as I ran out. I fell and I thought for sure he had me.” I bit my lip to fight the tears.

“John.” I whispered as I scrambled out of his hold and pulled his legs into my lap. “No. No. John. No.” The tears were starting to fall as I pushed up his pants legs. There was a small amount of blood on his pant leg causing me to panic even more. “Shit. You’re bleeding.” I grabbed the kleenex box that was sitting on my nightstand and pulled out a couple of tissues. Wiping the tears away with one hand, I pressed the tissues to his leg. “He must have caught you with the buckle. Hold these on there.” I grabbed John’s hand and guided it to his leg. He pressed the wad to the cut and watched as I took off from the room. I burst into the bathroom and started to tear it apart as I looked for the first aid kit.

“Everything okay (Y/N)?” My mom called from the living room where my parents were watching TV.

“I can’t…” I broke off and wiped at my tears again. “I can’t find the first aid kit.” My mom came into the room and saw me frantically pulling things out of drawers. “I can’t find it.” She grabbed my hands to stop me.

“(Y/N).” She coaxed. “(Y/N). Calm down.” I tried to pull my hands out of her grip and shook my head. “What happened? (Y/N). What happened?” I finally broke and hung my head.

“John’s dad caught him with a belt and the buckle must have hit him because he’s bleeding.” I said. “I need the first aid kit to fix it.” My mom let go of my hands and opened the closet. She pulled out the first aid kit and headed to my room. I followed her and sat down next to John. He gathered me into his arms and ran his fingers soothingly through my hair.

“Does it hurt John?” My mom asked as she cleaned the wound and inspected it. John shook his head.

“Not really. I mean it stings but I can walk.” John pulled me to him tighter when he saw my sharp intake of breath. “I didn’t even realize it was bleeding.” He kissed the top of my head as I grabbed onto his shirt.

“We have two choices John.” My dad said from the doorway. I hadn’t even noticed that he was standing there. “We can call the police on him and play that game.” John nodded as he looked down at me. “The other choice is we try to reschedule the tour of the house to tomorrow and we call the two of you out of school to do it.” Looking at me John nodded.

“I think it’s finally time.” He said. John pushed me away from his chest and started to wipe away my tears. He gently kissed me before turning to my dad. “Let’s call the police.” I looked up at John, pride and shock covering my face. My dad nodded as he went to get the phone. Looking down at me, John kissed me again.

“We’re here for you John.” My mom said as she patted his leg. John nodded and took the phone from my dad. I held onto him as he made the call. Once he was finished, he smiled and hung up.

“They should be over in ten minutes.” John said. He stood up from the bed and put his arm around my shoulders. “I guess I should be waiting for them.” We made our way to the living room and waited for the doorbell to ring.

“I say we still look at the apartment early.” I offered into the silence. I looked up at John.

“Just in case.” He agreed. My parents nodded their agreement. Before we could discuss the topic further, there was movement on our porch. John’s grip tightened on me as my dad moved towards the door.

#matt ryan #matt ryan imagine #matt ryan fanfiction #matt ryan fanfic #matt ryan x reader #John Constantine #john constantine imagine #john constantine fanfic #john constantine x reader #john constantine fanfiction

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gaiapaia · 3 years ago

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Kermit and Friends: Unhappily Vaxxed

Kermit and Friends is a show that welcomes everyone. It doesn’t matter what race you are, what culture you come from, what religion you believe in, what sexual preferences you have, or what political party you’re aligned with. That’s just one of the many things that makes KAF so special.

However, it doesn’t stop at Kermit and Friends... the show’s host, Elisa Jordana, pretty much carries this mindset into her real life. She’s willing to be friends with ANYONE as long as they’re nice, funny, or interesting. Nothing else matters outside of having just one of those qualities. Bless her beautiful heart.

Unfortunately, not surrounding yourself with a likeminded bubble can lead to some annoyances, to put it lightly.

Everything in America is politicized right now. It’s been that way since a celebrity became President and the media started obsessing over him. Instead of COVID-19 being a health crisis, it became a political tool used by both parties to cater to their voters beliefs.

Since Elisa has friends on both sides of the political spectrum, she was hearing about it from every angle regarding the vaccine. From her Democratic friends, COVID-19 is the scariest disease in human history despite none of them actually knowing anyone who died from it. From her Republican friends, the vaccination was created to kill off the population despite none of them actually knowing anyone who died after taking the vaccine.

So when it came time for Elisa to make a choice whether or not she should get vaccinated... she had friends/family members telling her she was going to die with either choice she made. Imagine how nerve wracking that must be for someone who already has severe anxiety issues? It broke my heart to see Elisa so stressed out over this.

Elisa ended up getting vaccinated. I saw on her Facebook she was STILL being criticized by her liberal friends for waiting this long... it’s so ridiculous. Thankfully though, Elisa is perfectly fine. If you give 100 million people a Tylenol pill, a very small percentage of them will get sick from it and possibly even die. The odds of that happening though are about the same as winning the lottery (that also goes for the odds of dying from COVID). The coronavirus situation is a very serious issue since a small percentage of people dying or becoming seriously ill is nothing to take lightly, but it’s so silly how political everything revolving around it has become. Thankfully Elisa can put it all behind her now and not worry about it any longer.

Claire from New Jersey called into the show to announce he was converting to Christianity and accepting Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. Claire even said he was getting baptized Sunday night. I’m personally all for this, I think there’s a lot of good that can be learned from Jesus’s teachings and being a believer in Him. However, Claire took it a step further and said he’s joining a sanctuary of some kind and won’t be allowed back on the internet for the next few months.

This to me is taking it a tad bit far. You don’t need a community to be a believer in Jesus Christ. I also find the internet very helpful when learning about the Bible and Christianity as a whole. To eliminate it and instead go with a group led by some pastor or two is a mistake in my opinion, but hey... maybe this will lead Claire to happiness and fulfillment. I certainly hope so. His calls and presence in chat will be certainly missed.

Claire claims the place he’s going to is like a rehab facility so he can overcome his addictions to food and porn. Elisa hilariously took intrigue in Claire’s porn viewing habits... her questions made me laugh hard. Elisa also shared that Claire was the reason Sugar didn’t co-host the show this week. I know Claire had some critical comments about Sugar in the chat last week, but I was surprised to hear it had that kind of negative impact on her. Hopefully Claire will find it in his heart to apologize and sweet Sugar will return to her Kermit and Friends family very soon. We all love you Sugar and we missed you on yesterday’s show!

T-Bob and Kleenex had a spat on a livestream earlier this week and decided to continue it on Kermit and Friends. The fight on the livestream had to do with political stuff, and the fight yesterday was just them name calling one another. It was entertaining but nothing substantial I could break down and explain.

Their fight did lead to a guy named Mark Connors calling into the show. Referred to as Mark Cruz by T-Bob, this Mark dude claims to be a multi-millionaire and a former country music star who’s friends with Dolly Parton. How someone of this status can be so obsessed with T-Bob is baffling to me. He ranted about Bob in two separate calls for what had to be 15 minutes combined. Mark even brought his wife on the line to talk about a time when Bob supposedly threatened to skull f*** her, whatever that means.

According to T-Bob, Mark “Cruz” is a statutory rapist that got off because he was friends with the judge or something like that. Bob has made it one of his life missions to expose Mark’s allegations to the World, claiming he had news vans sent to Mark’s house in Tennessee to ask him about his legal troubles.

Who knows what’s true and what’s false with these guys. All I know is that it has to be unbelievably tiresome to carry so much hatred for another human being. There aren’t many things I like about myself, but one thing I would never change is the fact that I obsess over things/people I love, not over things/people I hate.

Kermit made 3 new awesome friends yesterday. The first was a very nice man by the name of Chip Baker. Chip is another one of Coach Love’s associates. He is the author of The Formula Chart For Life and he specializes in positive inspiration and motivation. Chip brought that positive energy to Kermit and Friends with a glorious smile and fun attitude, not letting the T-Bob/Kleenex stuff bother him at all, even offering advice to both men.

Laura Meadows and her handsome son Culver also made their KAF debuts yesterday. Laura is an actress that’s had roles in over 80 movies/television shows ranging from Law and Order, Any Given Sunday, and lots of horror stuff. Her son Culver was singing in the background when she first joined the show and later Laura brought him on to perform in front of the camera, but he was a bit too shy. I would absolutely love to see more of Laura and Culver on KAF in the future... both seem like extremely sweet people that exemplify the spirit of Kermit.

Sigmond returned to the show to give the greatest Rhianna cover you’ll ever hear when he sung her song, Stay. Wappy also beautifully performed Lady Picture Show by Stone Temple Pilots and Easy by The Commodores. Kermit and Friends is really blessed to have these two gentlemen and their amazing musical talent on the show every week.

To end the episode, Elisa played a phone recording of her final conversation with Andy Dick. It started with Andy mad at Elisa for the publicity he received over his arrest being covered on Kermit and Friends; then when Elisa defended herself, Andy went on this self-loathing tangent saying he doesn’t deserve her or anyone else. Andy then promptly hung up on Elisa when his friends started calling for him, pretty much summing their entire relationship up in 2 seconds.

What a jam packed show it was this week. There was a little bit of everything. I’m very proud of Elisa for both facing her fears head-on regarding the vaccination shot and for doing the show even though her anxiety/stress levels had been through the roof the previous 24 hours. That took a lot of fortitude and strength, and Elisa was rewarded with an awesome episode of Kermit and Friends that everyone enjoyed.

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kalypsichor · 5 years ago

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and they were quARANTINED [a beatles fic] - ch 1

summary: George takes a shit. Ringo braves a trip to the tescos and loses a bit of his soul. John harrasses the general public and Paul’s just trying to get them home before they kill each other. All while a virus tears the world apart.

warnings: CRACK (not cocaine), geo’s bad potty habits, ringo’s copious use of emojis

so, this is different... but i’ve always been a crack fic writer at heart. this is the result of being quarantined myself due to COVID-19. i’ve been seeing so much fear and frustration and hatred that i just wanted to write about it kinda cathartically. enjoy!

Unfortunately, George doesn’t realize that they’re out of toilet paper until after he’s taken a shit.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Ringo?”

No answer.

“Ringooooooooo. RINGO!!!”

George’s legs are starting to lose feeling. He bounces them up and down a bit and the motion almost makes him drop his phone in the toilet.

“RICHARD FUCKING STARKEY!”

There’s the sound of footsteps and then a pause before Ringo answers.

“What’s up?”

“What took you so long?”

“Had my headphones in. Sorry I couldn’t be at your beck and call, O Lord of the Loo.”

“SHUT up. Look, do we have any more loo roll?”

A pause. “Why, are we out?”

George rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “No, I’m askin’ for the banter.”

“I’ll go check. Don’t move!”

George can almost see the shit-eating (heh) grin on his mate’s face as he walks away. With a sigh and some choice curse words that would make Louise cry, George pulls out his phone again. Opens Twitter. Sees yet another tweet from that spraytanned clown across the pond. Closes Twitter and contemplates deleting it. After about three rounds of this, Ringo comes back and knocks on the door.

“We’re all out. Got you some tissues, though.”

Krishna help me. George tips his head back against the wall and thumps it a few times for good measure.

“Thanks,” he says flatly. “Could you- ?”

The door opens just a smidge before he can finish talking there’s a flying blur of Kleenex box, a blinding pain in the side of his head, and a sickening crACK—

***

“I’m really sorry,” Ringo says for the millionth time, hovering over George as he examines the spiderweb of cracks on his phone screen. George huffs. He wants to be mad, he really does, but Ringo’s face is doing that stupid thing where his eyes are very, very blue and droopy and his teeth are worrying his bottom lip and it’s obvious that he’s genuinely remorseful and—fuck, he’s got it bad.

“It’s fine,” George insists, even though he can hear his bank account having a fit. “Piece of shit phone, anyway. And look, it still works!” Very shittily, his brain adds, but that’s what you get with a five year old phone.

The older boy’s eyes still have an unconvinced, sad look about them and George wishes he could kiss it away. No homo, though.

“How can I make it up to you?” George’s brain does a slutdrop into the gutter. “I’ll… I’ll get the groceries! How ‘bout that?”

“NO!” Scrambling off the couch, George just barely misses smacking noses with Ringo. “What about the… the virus?”

“I’ll wear a mask and all. Wash hands for twenty seconds, stay six feet away from people… am I missing anything?”

“Yeah, the quarantine bit.”

Ringo snorts and puts a hand on George’s arm. “Quit your worrying, Geo. I’ll be fine. Haven’t John and Paul been out all day?”

***

John and Paul want to go the fuck home. They’d walked all the way to a new art gallery opening only to find out it was cancelled (“Why didn’t you check Google?” “Why didn’t you?”). And now, both being tired as hell from their long trek, they couldn’t even flag down a single cab to take them home.

“This is the worst thing ever,” John cries, flopping his entire body down on a park bench. Paul rolls his eyes and lifts up John’s stupidly long legs so he can sit down as well.

“People are dying, John.”

“I feel like I’m dying.”

“John.”

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m being dramatic. But this stupid… thing… is fucking up all our plans!”

“It’s not fucking Voldemort, you can say the name.”

“Alright, fine. Coronavirus. CORONAVIRUS. You happy, Paul?”

A woman hurrying by shoots them a wide-eyed, nervous look and crosses the street, tugging a little boy by the hand.

“... bitch.”

“Jesus, John.” Paul pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’d do that too if some rando was shouting in the streets.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t hafta shoot that nasty look at us… did you see that? Paul?”

“Hold on, hold on.” His phone is vibrating in his pocket and he fumbles to pull it out. “Your stupid legs are in the way.”

John huffs and makes a show of wiggling said legs, almost kicking Paul in the face. Still, he tucks them to his chest (flexible, Paul thinks and then instantly regrets) so that Paul can take out the buzzing rectangle.

bongo: do u or john want anything? 🤔🤔

bongo: like groceries

bongo: going to tescos

Shouldnt you be quarantining?

bongo: ur literally at an art museum 😂

It’s a gallery

And it got cancelled :/

bongo: oop sorry m8 thats tough

bongo: srsly tho whaddaya want

We need more vegetables. Carrots, etc

“Tell him to get cornflakes,” John says, peering over Paul’s shoulder. He’s sat up and practically draped over Paul’s lap. Paul sighs and shoves his legs off, ignoring the indignant squawk the other boy makes when he almost falls off the bench.

Also that cornflake cereal stuff

bongo: k

bongo: tell john i said hi

Heyyyyyy rich wots up

Paulie’s being a bitch he pushed me :((((

Why is his auto caps on lsdnfol

“Give it back!”

“Ow! Ow stop hitting me Jesus fuckin-”

Sorry that was john

bongo: yeah i could tell lmao

bongo: where are u guys??

Stuck at some park. Can’t get any cabs home

bongo: well duh coronavirus 😷😷😷

bongo: bad time to be a cabbie man 😔

Yeah yikes

Pick up some rice for george too

And hand sanitizer

bongo: ill try but twitter says handsan itizer is going fast

bongo: what the fuc why did it space like that

Lol

bongo: oh also

bongo: geos being a mother hen and making me wear a face mask

bongo: u know where they are?

Second drawer down in the bathroom, behind the rubber gloves

bongo: … how did u reply SO fast

Uh i know where things are in our flat? Like a normal person?

bongo: thats sus but ok

bongo: wow theyre actually here

bongo: okay imma head out before it gets dark

What’s after dark? Zombies?

bongo: u never no

bongo: *no

bongo: FUCKING *KNOW

Nice

Okay stay safe ritch

bongo: 😘🙃👍🏼✌🏼✌🏼🌈🌟🥦🥦🥦☮️

***

Ringo has never seen this many people at Tesco in his entire life. Two grown men are having a full on argument in the pastries. A harried-looking dad almost knocks Ringo into a rack of Twinkies, pulling along two screaming kids with one slung on his hip. And… is that person actually wearing a Hazmat suit??

“This is insane,” Ringo mutters to himself, slightly muffled due to the face mask. He just needs to find the loo roll and then he’s going to yeet outta here ASAP.

Okay, hygiene aisle… here we g—what the—

The entire aisle is empty.

It’s like a goddamn Old Western. Just add a cow skull… cue the tumbleweed… and it would be perfect.

Not for the first time that day, Ringo sends a prayer to whoever is listening above. There’s got to be something left. He walks down to the end of the aisle. Walks back. Jumps a couple times to check if there’s anything on the top shelf. Sincerely hopes no one just saw him do that. Finally, shoved at the very back behind a couple of Always boxes, Ringo digs out a dusty as shit six-pack of toilet paper.

Well. It’ll have to do.

As he’s walking to the check out lines, a woman drops her bottle of hand sanitizer. It rolls across the floor in a perfect arc and Ringo scoops it up before it can get too far.

“Oops, you dropped this!” He says cheerily, handing it to her. Well, trying to. The woman makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, physically flinches away from his outstretched hand, and almost drops the rest of her groceries. Before Ringo can react, she’s disappeared behind the produce aisle.

Ringo’s arm falls to his side. He stares at the space where she was just a second ago and holds in a scream.

“More for us, I guess.”

***

By the time Ringo reaches the flat, he’s ready to never see another person again. He trudges right past George in the kitchen, dropping the groceries on the table with a thwack. John hums a greeting to him in the living room and offers him a biscuit.

“No thanks,” Ringo says. He faceplants into the couch.

Something clinks onto the coffee table. Well, coffee table is one way to put it; it’s more of a hunk of stone from back when Paul thought he was going to be the next Michelangelo and get really into classical sculpture. It now sits in the living room and primarily holds George’s textbooks, plus takeout for whenever they don’t feel like cooking (which is all the time), so you can see how that panned out for Paul.

“Tea for you,” George says. He plops onto the floor between the couch and the table and runs a friendly, comforting hand through Ringo’s hair. Ringo practically purrs, leaning into the touch, and George feels his heart melt and trickle through his ribs. “You okay?”

“I’ve lost all faith in humanity,” Ringo mumbles into the cushion. John reaches over and pats him on the back.

“Don’t worry, Ringo. There won’t be any humans to have faith in soon.”

George throws a packet of sugar at John who dodges it, snickering. Ringo groans and tries to sink even deeper into the couch.

And that’s when they hear Paul scream.

#mclennon #starrison #mclennon fanfic #starrison fanfic #john lennon x paul mccartney #george harrison x ringo starr #beatles fanfic #beatles crackfic #kalwrites #idk

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d-criss-news · 5 years ago

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When it was announced that The Rosie O'Donnell Show would be back for one night only with a guest list of about 15 million Broadway talents, many of us wondered, would it be a return to the glory days of her multiple Emmy-winning daytime talk show or more like her ill-fated attempt to resuscitate the primetime variety format on NBC in 2008. It turned out to borrow from both those predecessors while evolving into something completely different — a low-tech lovefest that felt like eavesdropping on a group chat among friends looking out for one another in a time of need.

It was spontaneous, messy and blighted by some of the worst audio glitches imaginable. Yet it was often affectingly intimate, and even over an endurance-testing three-and-a-half commercial-free hours, also strangely addictive. The lack of slickness seemed to carry through to the relaxed manner of the guests, and their refreshing unpretentiousness.

Conceived by actor-producer (and occasional tech-support helpmate) Erich Bergen and live-streamed on Broadway.com and the website's YouTube channel, the show was a benefit for The Actors Fund, the charitable organization founded in 1882 that supports performers and behind-the-scenes theater workers. It raised more than half-a-million dollars, O'Donnell announced at the end of the marathon, sitting in a Hamilton hoodie and offering a champagne toast in a glass emblazoned with the face of Barbra Streisand.

She conducted the entire show from behind a laptop in her New Jersey garage, its floor spattered with the paint spillage of countless craft projects. "I'm a little bit of a Broadway nerd, I admit it," said O'Donnell, establishing her dual role as host and superfan.

Part of the show's unique pleasure was seeing favorite Broadway performers chilling in their own homes, almost all of them dressed down, with little visible attention to makeup or hair, and zero concern about unflattering angles. It was a great equalizer, proving that even artists who can hold packed theaters in the palm of their hands with a song are housebound and trying to make the best of a bad situation just like the rest of us — staying close to their families, killing time, learning to cook, wondering how long this unnerving isolation will last. Or how much longer we can put off that shower.

It was kind of comforting to see Idina Menzel sitting by her microwave and confessing, "I guess I'm going a little bonkers," while lamenting a failed lasagna attempt and sharing the challenges of homeschooling her son when she's no math genius. Likewise, hearing Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker talk about watching Columbo reruns or catching up on The Crown, while SJP begged for no spoilers on the final episode of The Sopranos, which she may now get to at last. Seeing Annette Bening on her Los Angeles balcony wearing a "Make America Kind Again" baseball cap was as much a tonic as watching Neil Patrick Harris do a card trick with his adorable twins. And who doesn't want to meet Gloria and Emilio Estefan's cute rescue dogs or hear about Lin-Manuel Miranda's kids' reaction to their first exposure to Singin' in the Rain?

Then there were the musical interludes.

Where else could you catch Patti LuPone, in magnificent voice, singing the urgently upbeat 1930s standard "A Hundred Years From Today," unaccompanied while sitting by the jukebox in her basement? Or Kelli O'Hara nestled into an armchair honoring Stephen Sondheim's 90th birthday by wrapping her crystalline soprano around "Take Me to the World," a hymn to unity from Evening Primrose? Or husband and wife Audra McDonald and Will Swenson duetting on the Charlie Chaplin evergreen, "Smile," from their Westchester living room? Or Darren Criss pouring his heart into another Sondheim classic about the desire for connection, "Being Alive," from Company, accompanying himself in a lovely pop arrangement on acoustic guitar from the sofa of his Los Angeles home? And while sound problems plagued Barry Manilow's selection of hits, ending with "I Made It Through the Rain," I was tickled to see his Judy Garland Kleenex dispenser.

Many of the song choices were thoughtfully apropos of the current crisis, offering comforting reassurance of the eventual return of resilience and togetherness while people in major cities all over the country self-isolate as the infection rate of the coronavirus pandemic continues to climb. Maybe Tituss Burgess at his home keyboard singing "The Glory of Love" is exactly the kind of uplift we all need right now.

Even in the seemingly random numbers, the entire enterprise was characterized by a spirit of generosity and sharing.

Kristin Chenoweth celebrated a Starbucks romance in "Taylor the Latte Boy." Matthew Morrison goofed it up on ukulele to a mashup of "The Bare Necessities" and "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" from his Disney Dreamin' album. Alan Menken whipped through a medley of his songs from The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Little Shop of Horrors, among others, at the piano. Ben Platt, also at the keyboard, did Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love." And Adrienne Warren, the sensational star of Tina: The Tina Turner Musical, growled out "Simply the Best" from her bathtub. That was on the third attempt during a particularly troublesome audio patch, by which time her bubbles were history.

Prompted by O'Donnell, more than one guest reminded viewers that The Actors Fund is not just about Broadway artists pulling star salaries but also stagehands, makeup artists, wigmakers and ushers who work in what is very much a gig economy. The organization provides emergency financial assistance, social services, affordable housing, healthcare and insurance counseling and addiction support.

"Everything's a one-off," said Tony-winning actor Brian Stokes Mitchell, who serves as chairman of The Actors Fund. "That's how we get by, and many people are living on the edge right now."

"We're all just one, two, maybe three paychecks away from bankruptcy," added Billy Porter, whose mother is in an Actors Fund nursing home. "In this community, our whole job description is insecurity," said Judith Light.

Porter, along with Lea Salonga and longtime activist Light recalled how Broadway was on the frontlines of another life-threatening struggle during the early days of the AIDS crisis. All of them urged viewers to stay strong and take the time to reflect on the value of solidarity.

While O'Donnell has never been shy about her opposition to Donald Trump and everything he stands for, the show was remarkably light on politics, with just the occasional dig slipping through. She opened with a little celebratory "Yay!" while admitting she had missed the president's daily coronavirus press update, and then explained that she and her guests were not there to talk Trump. When Harvey Fierstein, O'Donnell's 2005 stage husband in Fiddler on the Roof, reminded her of all the election work still to be done, she said, "Let's all just know, we deserve a leader who tells the truth." And the delays in making coronavirus testing more widely available prompted a comment that the government should have gotten busy on that back in January when the writing was already on the wall.

Mostly, however, the hastily revamped Rosie O'Donnell Show was about bringing people together at this time of anxiety and isolation, as the host reconnected with artists whom she has championed since her reign as the Queen of Nice. "Everyone in the community loves you," she told Chita Rivera in a particularly effusive greeting. "You are our queen mother!"

Many of the performers would have been decompressing after rehearsals or Sunday matinees if the Broadway shutdown hadn't happened — Criss in American Buffalo, Broderick and Parker in Plaza Suite, Warren in Tina, Lauren Patten and Elizabeth Stanley in Jagged Little Pill. Sunday would have been LuPone's opening night in the gender-flipped revival of Company. Gavin Creel, who abruptly ended his London run in Waitress to fly home and is in isolation in a cabin in upstate New York, revealed the fear that he might have contracted the virus, given that several others in the cast have fallen ill, with one of them testing positive.

The show bridged the gap separating us from artists whose work we normally experience on the other side of the footlights. Most of us will never again get to see Stephen Sondheim and Andrew Lloyd Webber exchange greetings in song on the birthday the two composers happen to share. From those celebrated veterans to rising-star newbies, the common denominator here was everybody facing the crisis just like us, reaching out a hand of friendship, albeit from a mandatory safe distance.

#darren criss #rosie o’donnell #rosie o'donnell show livestream #the hollywood reporter #press #march 2020

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my-emotional-self · 5 years ago

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Mad Part 2

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Panic Attack

A/N: Here is a part 2 since everyone kept asking for it! Catch up on Part 1 HERE

You were afraid to come out of the room the following morning; afraid Chris would take one look at you, roll his eyes and leave you for good.

The entire night you spent going through the scenario again and again in your head, and what you did wrong. But you knew what you did wrong from the moment you began texting and calling his phone all night.

Never in your entire relationship with Chris had he ever cheated on you, let alone given you a reason not to trust him. Sure he was surrounded by beautiful women day in and day out because of his movies and press tours, but he was always the most loyal boyfriend you ever had in your life; and you ruined in.

Going into the en suite bathroom you looked in the mirror. Your head was pounding from the bright bathroom lights, making you wince in pain; crying all night would do that to you.

Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy, nose raw from all the use of Kleenex. Quickly you pushed a comb through your hair, trying to detangle it before putting on your robe and heading to the kitchen.

As much as you weren’t in the mood to eat, your stomach was grumbling and you didn’t want to get any more emotional from being hungry.

Opening the bedroom door you saw that the guest room door was opened. Taking a few deep breaths you headed into the kitchen as you chewed nervously on your lower lip.

Looking around, you didn’t see Chris in the kitchen or the living room. Furrowing your brows, you began to quietly walk around the house in search for him. After take a quick glance in every room of the house, with each breath your heart began to beat quicker.

With your hand on the doorknob, you opened the garage, tears springing to yours eyes instantly when you noticed his car was gone.

Doubling over, you clenched your stomach, feeling nauseas knowing that he was going to leave you for good; all because of the way you acted last night; all because of your ex-boyfriend cheating.

No, Chris wasn’t a cheater, but for some reason you had it stuck in your mind that because you had been cheated on once, every person you were with was going to cheat on you.

You spent the next few hours on the floor of the entryway, staring blankly at the wall in front of you, feeling numb. A perfectly good relationship and you had ruined it. Why did you have to be so clingy when you knew guys hated that? Why couldn’t you just let your mind relax when Chris was out with his friends last night?

The feeling of loneliness began to creep around your now trembling body as you sat on the hard cold floor. Two years of the best relationship out the door and you felt disgusted with yourself.

Thinking back of all the great times the two of you shared only made your heart clench and hurt ten times worse; you would never get to enjoy times like that again because you had become that kind of girlfriend.

More tears spilled down your cheek, but you weren’t hysterically crying like the night before. No, this time you sat there, not moving and just staring blankly ahead.

On the outside, you looked calm, albeit tears were there. But on the inside, you were screaming at yourself as your emotions swirled. Panic began to bubble throughout your veins, but your body remained robotic.

The door from the garage opened up as Chris stepped into the house, his eyes immediately focusing on you but you didn’t move a muscle as you continued to stare straight ahead, not even hearing him enter the house.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest and you began to gasp for air, yet your body still didn’t move. Everything you felt was internal, but all Chris could see was what was happening to you on the outside.

Even though he was pissed off and mad last night, Chris’ own panic began to bubble as he saw you like this.

Rushing over to you, he kneeled down in front of you, gently taking your cheeks in his hands.

“Y/N? Baby are you ok?” he asked with a panic stricken voice, but you could barely hear him. It sounded like the two of you were underwater; your eyes wide as you couldn’t breathe. “FUCK!” he roared in panic as he sat down onto the floor and pulled your body into him, curling around you. “Baby you need to breathe. Y/N…BREATHE!” he yelled in fear as he rocked you back and forth.

Just being in his arms alone made the pain in your chest go away as you worked your hardest on regaining your breathing. Your arms laid limply next to you, not having the energy to hold onto Chris as you took shaky breaths in and out.

Chris’ head rested on yours as he continued to hold you tight and work you through your panic attack; luckily he knew just what to do in those cases.

As your breathing slowly got back to normal, you realized that Chris was holding you as you snapped out of your daze. Looking down, you saw his forearms wrapped around your front, only making this more difficult.

With trembling limbs, you tore yourself away from him gently, not even having the will to look at him as you stood on shaky legs and began to walk to the bedroom. Your body was still in flight or fight mode from your panic attack and you ungracefully tripped over your feet, knocking into the wall.

“Y/N where are you going?” you heard Chris ask from behind you but you couldn’t stop, wouldn’t turn to look at him as it would only make the heartache worsen.

Finally making it to the room, you went into the closet and grabbed your two suitcases as you comatosely began to fill it with your clothes and belongings. You were so wrapped up in your mind about everything you didn’t hear or notice Chris coming into the bedroom.

“What are you doing Y/N?” you heard Chris sigh from the doorway; his voice alone making your chin begin to quiver as you did your best to hold back your sniffles.

“Packing Chris. I’ll be out of here shortly. I’m sorry for ruining this relationship,” you spoke with an unsteady voice.

The deep sigh that left his mouth didn’t go unnoticed by you. Chris walked over to you, placing a hand on your arm as you set your clothes into the suitcase.

“Please stop,” he whispered, his own voice sounding like it was going to crack.

You paused your movements, unsure of what to do. Chris turned you to face him, but your eyes were glued to the floor. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly to him and that was when the floodgates opened.

“I’m s-sorry Chris. I’m so s-so sorry,” you cried out. “I di-didn’t mean to act th-this way. I do-don’t want to lose you and I st-still lost you.”

“Ssshhh,” he cooed, moving you and him to the bed where he placed you on his lap. “Hey, look at me,” he urged but you quickly shook your head. “Please?”

Slowly you lifted your head from his chest, but your eyes didn’t meet his. He tipped your head up with his finger and your eyes connected with his. His eyes were filled with sadness as he took in your face.

“I’m sorry too,” he admitted, making your eyes grow wide.

“What? Wh-why are you sorry?”

“Because I haven’t been the greatest boyfriend to you. I went out this morning for a drive to clear my head and then I got to thinking. I’ve been ditching you to go hang out with the guys quite a lot the last couple months and with your ex cheating on you, I can see where you are coming from Y/N.”

His words shocked you and you weren’t intending him to apologize to you.

“Still,” you sniffled out, “I shouldn’t have been so clingy. I don’t know what came over me. You’ve never given me a reason to not trust you. You have been the most loyal person I’ve ever met and I still feel like I ruined this relationship.”

“No baby, you didn’t ruin this relationship. This is just a bump in the road.”

“But I don’t want you to feel like you can’t go hang out with your friends. It was stupid of me to act and treat you that way Chris. You have more in your life than just me and I need to stop being so emotional all the time.”

That caused Chris to chuckle, shaking his head. “But I like that you are emotional. I feel we have a great connection emotionally because of that.”

You tugged the side of your lip up into a half smile, knowing he was right. The two of you shared a deep emotional connection that was for sure.

“I’m sorry again Chris. I won’t act like a clingy girlfriend anymore.”

He smiled at you, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to your lips; you inwardly sighed at the feeling as you thought it never would happen again.

“And I’m sorry for putting you on the backburner. You are the most important person in my life and I’m treating you second best. I’ll make it up to you baby.”

The two of you sat together in silence as Chris rocked you back and forth. For the first time in 24 hours, you felt a sense of relief wash over your body.

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