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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

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Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

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“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

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“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.”

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

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Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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seventeenlovesthree · 2 years

Text

“Shall we go together?” (21/24) | A Taishirou Christmas drabble countdown

Just a little Taishirou-centric Christmas fic I’ve been meaning to write all year long, so here we are. The plan was to post 12-24 drabbles to complete telling the story and the Christmas spirit succeeded in the end.

🧡💜

Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24]

Characters: Koushirou Izumi, Tentomon (mentions of other Chosen Children)

Main POV: Koushirou Izumi

Genre: Friendship & romance

Rating: K

Wordcount: 738

December 25th, 00:50 AM

“Koushirou-han?”

Tentomon apprehensively eyed his partner while he was slowly getting ready for bed, putting on his night clothing. Upon having enjoyed the delicious food during their dinner out, Motimon had managed to evolve again and overall, it had been an enjoyable evening with a gentle atmosphere.

Koushirou had needed the loving embrace of spending time with his family. Focusing on their own Christmas tradition, it had been cheerful enough to keep himself distracted from overthinking everything that had happened this day.

That was until they had gotten home again and a text message from Sora had pulled him right back into reality.

“I hope everything went well on your way home. 😊“

“You know I have to bring this up now, but I really think you startled Taichi-han a little too much out there.”

Hearing that, Koushirou couldn’t help but to sigh out loud.

“I did, didn’t I?”, he murmured in a defeated tone before laying down on his bed, facing the ceiling. His tablet was lying next to him – he had contemplated booting up his main computer, as he assumed there wouldn’t be any use in even trying to get any sleep tonight, but he had promised his mother to take care of himself. So the tablet had to do to keep him occupied.

Kae had obviously seen the news – and knew how his Digimon partner looked in his evolved state, so both her and Masami were aware that their son had once again contributed to saving the city.

Or at least saving something.

“I still don’t fully understand why this is such a big deal”, Tentomon made an exasperated noise, curling himself together on the bed as well, attracting his partner’s attention. “Why couldn’t ya have made him open the present right there and then?”

Thinking back on it, replaying the scene over and over again, Koushirou definitely would have described Taichi’s reaction to his sudden present exchange as ‘startled’. No matter how often he repeated the scenario in his head, he was certain that Taichi must have taken it the wrong way – as much as he was certain that Taichi had thrown his entire heart at him, expecting him to catch it. And since he didn’t do it immediately, he couldn’t even blame him for the hasty departure. He himself had basically triggered that by acting as if a bee had stung him…

“It didn’t seem to be the appropriate moment”, he simply replied, ignoring the slightly painful throbbing in his chest while returning Tentomon’s gaze. He wasn’t exactly the most superstitious person – in fact, he wasn’t superstitious at all –, but there was indeed something inside him that had insisted for it to actually be Christmas Day before they’d all open their presents.

“Appropriate moment?”, Tentomon repeated, head tilted. “Ah, because you still don’t feel prepared…?”

Looking back at the ceiling, Koushirou wondered when Sora had gotten home herself – and whether it had been her initial plan to spend more time with Yamato previously, so she had deliberately stayed behind to leave him and Taichi alone.

He meant to ask her as soon as the opportunity would come up. But first, he needed to safely pick up Taichi’s – probably – wounded heart.

“No, I’d say I was prepared.”

The second he had noticed Taichi’s hand approaching him, he had almost intuitively wanted to lean in. Never ever in his life had he longed, craved for physical touch as much as he had done in this very moment.

“Maybe it were my feelings for you causing it all. You know… My feelings of love.”

Almost as if someone had punched him in the face, his head had stepped up before his heart could have taken over completely though.

“But… I believe that’s exactly why I had to stop myself”, he eventually whispered, before switching off his room lamp, the only light source now being the display of his tablet.

“Eh?”

Koushirou’s glance shifted to his desk, knowing that a bag of cookies would be waiting for him in the morning. Even if he couldn’t see it in the dark, its presence was positively overwhelming.

His own heart was overflowing with affection, adoration, thankfulness and an icky glimpse of guilt.

He knew what he wanted. He knew he had to take this chance. Even if that meant waiting an – agonizingly long – bit longer.

“To see if I’ll still feel prepared tomorrow.”

#taishirou #taishiro #my drabbles #shall we go together?#digimon #anime #koushirou izumi #taichi yagami #tentomon #i'm stalling can you tell???

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btsqualityy · 4 years

Text

Scripted: Part 20

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, protected sex

Author’s Note: This chapter feels a little off to me, but I’m sure that’s just because I wasn’t in the best mind frame writing it. If it seems like that to you guys though, charge it to my head and not my heart. Hope you all enjoy it!

Two Months Later / Your POV

A month had passed since Jimin walked away from you, and you missed him so fucking much. You had tried calling and texting him, only to find that he ended up changing his number. You even managed to stop by his apartment, only to find that he had moved out.

It hurt especially bad given the fact that you were going to tell him that you were definitely leaving Namjoon and that you wanted to be with him when he left, consequences be damned. You felt so fucking guilty, because it felt like you were too late and you lost him all because you weren’t willing to let Namjoon go.

Speaking of Namjoon, he had still been consistent in his attempt to win you back and knowing that Jimin had turned in his resignation, it was like he was trying that much harder. You had to admit, having your “old” Namjoon back was nice and you hadn’t realized exactly how much you missed him.

“Hey stranger,” Namjoon smiled as he popped his head into your office, and you looked up from the computer monitor to smile back at him.

“Hi yourself,” you giggled as you watched him slowly walk into the room. “Except why the stranger? We literally had lunch together a few hours ago.”

“Because I missed you,” he smirked as he leaned against your desk and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Real smooth Mr. President,” you laughed.

“What are you up to?” Namjoon wondered.

“Just finishing this statement about donations for the children’s hospital,” you told him. “Since I really don’t feel comfortable rescheduling another benefit, I’m just gonna release a statement about where people can direct monetary donations on their own or about donating their time.”

“That’s nice of you,” Namjoon nodded.

“Well, despite the fuck all of everything that happened that night, I don’t wanna leave Sooyoung and those kids and their families hanging,” you sighed. “Especially given how cool Sooyoung has been about everything that happened.”

‘True,” Namjoon agreed and you looked away from the monitor again to look up at him.

“I have a really important question for you though,” you said and Namjoon’s eyebrow rose. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“I’ve told you, I’m more than ready,” Namjoon chuckled. Tonight, you and Namjoon were attending his first public event since the shooting, and you were more than a little nervous about it. Up to this point, you had been attending events for him, making speeches on his behalf and representing the Blue House. However, Namjoon had decided that after three months, it was time for him to get back to work and you were not looking forward to it at all.

“You sure you don’t wanna just stay home tonight?” You checked and he shook his head, which made you sigh heavily. Seeing your facial expression, he reached down and grabbed your hands, holding them in his as he looked into your eyes.

“Everything will be fine, alright?” He assured you and you just looked at him blankly, which made him huff and change his tactic. “Ok, remember how the therapist said we need to start trusting each other more? Well, I need you to trust me when I say that I’m ready to do this.”

“You know, this is exactly why I didn’t want to go to couples’ therapy in the first place, because I didn’t want you throwing the advice in my face at moments like this,” you giggled, making Namjoon smile. “I just want you to be safe Joon.”

“I know, but I can’t stay holed up here,” he said, gesturing around the room with his head. “I’m the President and I have obligations and responsibilities.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. “Well, if this is what you want to do, I’ll be right there with you.”

“I’m glad,” Namjoon smiled, pulling your hands up to his mouth and pressing gentle kisses to the backs of your hands.

.........................................

After you and Namjoon changed into more formal clothing, you both got into your limousine and headed off to a banquet hall, where a dinner for people who have made notable contributions to South Korea was being held.

Getting out of the limousine and walking into the banquet hall was the longest walk of your life, because you held your breath the entire time. Luckily though, nothing happened and the only sound that you could hear was the thunderous applause that was given to Namjoon as you escorted him into the large ballroom.

Throughout the dinner, Namjoon kept his hand on your thigh the entire time, gently squeezing it in order to reassure you that he was ok. Once it came time for him to give his speech, you once again held your breath as you watched him deliver it flawlessly, watching for any sign that his breathing may be bothering him. However, he was completely fine and he didn’t hesitate to tell you as much as the two of you spun around the dance floor.

“Told you so,” he smirked and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes in front of all the people that were watching the two of you.

“Excuse me for being worried about you, you jerk,” you scoffed, although the smile on your face showed that you weren’t really annoyed. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing ok and not pushing yourself.”

“I’m so lucky that you’re still around,” he murmured and you raised your eyebrow in confusion. “After everything that’s happened, after everything that I’ve done, I’m surprised that you didn’t leave.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “I...I was gonna leave.”

“Why didn’t you?” He wondered.

“Because sometimes, the alternative doesn’t turn out to be what you thought it was gonna be,” you told him as you looked up at him. “And after going to counseling with you and thinking it over, I hurt you too and if you can still try after all of that, then I can too.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” he smiled, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered quietly and you held onto him a little tighter as the two of you continued to dance together.

.........................................

“Please,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around Namjoon’s neck as he thrusted into you.

“Shh, I got you baby,” he shushed you, turning his head and sucking a hickey onto the skin of your neck. After the little conversation that the two of you had while dancing (and two more glasses of champagne), you were feeling particularly vulnerable and that’s how the two of you ended up in bed together. Namjoon had tried to convince you that maybe it wasn’t a good idea, since you two were still in the trenches of intense couples’ therapy, but he wasn’t able to resist your pout and the open mouthed kisses that you left on his neck.

“Feels so good,” you moaned out. “Missed this, missed you.”

“And I missed you,” he replied and when he lifted his head from your neck, you were surprised to see that his eyes were wet with tears.

“Why are you crying?” You whispered, reaching up and wiping his eyes for him.

“Because I’m fucking terrible,” he muttered. “I let my dad get into my head and convince me that acting like him was normal or ok, and I let it mess up my relationship with you and I’m so sorry.”

“Joon,” you cooed, leaning up and kissing him firmly. “You’re trying and that’s a good start. The therapist said so, remember?”

“God, don’t bring up Dr. Chan during sex Y/N-ah,” he chuckled, which made you giggle. “I love you Y/N-ah, always.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Now, please make me come.”

“My pleasure,” He smirked, moving his knees so that he was steady above you before refocusing his thrusts. The force behind them made your body rock up the length of the bed, your back arching as he fucked you hard and fast.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, biting your lip harshly as you felt your orgasm wash over your body. Namjoon groaned at the feeling of your pussy convulsing around him and the feeling only pushed him over the edge as well, causing him to spill into the condom that he had on.

“Holy shit,” He gasped, sitting up and sitting back on his heels, gently pulling out of you and pulling the used condom off of his length. “I forgot how hard you make me come.”

“Same,” you chuckled, your chest moving up and down rapidly as you tried to get your breathing back under control. Namjoon crawled over to his side of the bed, throwing the condom in the small trashcan that was next to the bed before he laid down, opening his arms. You slid closer to him, turning your back to him as he snuggled up to you.

“Good night Y/N-ah,” Namjoon whispered into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear afterwards.

“Good night,” you replied. Namjoon had no problem drifting off to sleep after that, his even breathing apparent in your ear. You, however, couldn’t get to sleep. As you laid there, wrapped up in Namjoon’s arms, a tear slid down your face because you were once again hit with the realization that you had been trying to ignore for the last two months: you missed Park Jimin, and you missed him like hell.

.........................................

Jimin’s POV

“You’re a god damn idiot,” Jihyun spat and Jimin’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his younger brother.

“Jihyun, stop,” Eun Jung whispered to her husband but he just ignored her.

“You must be absolutely dense in the head to seriously think that you can just walk away from her like that,” Jihyun yelled and that’s when Jimin lost it.

“Well, I guess I am dense then because I had to!” Jimin shot back. “We never had a chance and there was no point in me sticking around! As my brother, I’d think you’d understand that!”

“As your brother, I understand that you were happier with her than you’ve been in the entire last few years! Excuse me for seeing that and wanting it to continue!”

“She’s married!”

“You knew that when you fell in love with her, so don’t act like it’s such a handicap for you now,” Jihyun scoffed. “She may be married, but you love her and she loves you. To me, that should be more than enough for you to go back and fight for her!”

“I can’t keep fighting a losing fight!” Jimin groaned. “You wouldn’t understand!”

“You know, you’re right,” Jihyun shrugged. “I wouldn’t understand, but I do know that I wouldn’t just be a coward and run away with my tail between my legs!”

“Jihyun,” Eun Jung spoke up a little more firmly this time, and Jihyun looked over at her. “Why don’t you go check on Hana in the back while I talk to Jimin?”

“Alright, because I’m gonna have a damn heart attack trying to talk some sense into this idiot and I’m the younger sibling,” Jihyun grumbled, turning around and storming towards the back of the restaurant. Eun Jung sighed heavily before sliding into the booth next to Jimin, giving him a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna go all crazy like my husband,” Eun Jung chuckled.

“Insane would be a better word to describe him,” Jimin huffed, rolling his eyes. A few moments of silence passed between the two of them before Eun Jung spoke up again.

“Do you miss her?” She asked and Jimin sighed.

“Every day. All day,” he answered. “Besides the whole being in love with her thing, she was such an amazing person and friend and my days feel so empty now.”

“You’re talking about her as if she’s dead,” Eun Jung pointed out.

“I have to,” Jimin shrugged. “It makes it easier.”

“Easier than just going back to her and telling her that you made a mistake by leaving?”

“Way easier,” Jimin chuckled ruefully before looking over at her. “I had to leave Eun Jung. It was for the best.”

“You know what, I believe you when you say that,” Eun Jung nodded. “But not for the reasons you’ve said.”

“What?” He asked and Eun Jung smiled softly.

“You left her because you didn’t want her to leave you first,” Eun Jung said. “You didn’t want her to leave you like Hyeri did.”

“I-I, that’s not,-” Jimin stammered but Eun Jung just shook her head.

“Jimin,” she called firmly and he instantly shut his mouth. “It’s ok that you were scared. Hell, after how Hyeri left you, I’d be terrified too.”

“I’m not,” Jimin mumbled and an raise eyebrow from Eun Jung had him sighing before holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Ok, I am. I could just see her dong the same thing as Hyeri because I’m not good enough.”

“Jimin, don’t say that,” Eun Jung scolded gently, reaching over and grabbing Jimin’s hands in hers. “You are good enough. Hell, you’re more than good enough.”

“That’s not what Hyeri said when she left.”

“Ok, I’m sorry but Hyeri was a huge bitch and you shouldn’t have been with her anyways,” Eun Jung huffed and Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jihyun and I just never said anything because we knew how you felt about her.”

“Well then,” Jimin laughed. “You’re right though, she was a bitch.”

“Exactly,” Eun Jung nodded. “So you shouldn’t believe anything that she might’ve said to you. You’re kind, you’re caring, and you love so strongly.”

“Just for the wrong people sometimes,” Jimin added, making Eun Jung frown.

“You don’t know that,” she tsked. “You would’ve found out though if you stuck around there instead of running.”

“I couldn’t,” Jimin whispered. “I would’ve rather left than to have every memory with her shattered.”

“I get it,” Eun Jung smiled gently. “You can do whatever you want Jimin, we just want you to be happy.”

“And I will be,” he assured her, tightening his hand around hers. “Eventually.”

.........................................

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baubuttercup · 3 years

Text

Mini Garcia pt2 /Spencer Reid

Summary: It’s been 2 months since reader started her job at the BAU alongside Garcia. Will a certain someone finally ask her out on a date?

Spencer x Reader

Warning: Fluff/none

A/N: I haven’t fully edited it but hope you enjoy it :)

Y/N POV

Its been about 2 months since i started interning at the BAU alongside Penelope as her Junior Tech Analyst. I absolutely love every moment of this job and everyone here had become my family. From our first encounter Spencer and I hit it off really well, we came to find out that we had so much in common from the genius writing of Edgar Allan Poe to the newest episode of Dr Who it was like we were the same person. I have to admit i do have a slight...okay maybe large crush on him but i mean who wouldn't the man is a genius, kind hearted and very easy on the eyes. I was patiently waiting for Penelope to come into work, it was currently 9am and i still hadn't heard or seen here anywhere. Usually she is the first one here around 8-8:30am. I make my way out of the bat cave and up towards Hotch's office to see if he has heard anything from her. I knock on the door seeing him looking intensely at a case file, he looks up at me with a welcoming smile to come in. "Hi Sir, i was just wondering if you had heard or seen Garcia today, it doesn't seem like she's here" he closes the case file standing up "Garcia is feeling under the weather so she is going to take some time off, have you by any chance taken a look at the LA case file" I slowly begin to walk out with Hotch going towards the conference room "Yes, me and Penelope researched that file last Friday" he hands me a case file "Good because you are going to be our full time Tech Analyst whilst Garcia is sick, your first task is to brief the team" my stomach drops at the words he just said, i can't do this, i'm completely incapable of doing this without Penelope. Just as I entered the conference room I receive a text

Queen Penelope: "Hi my beautiful little Einstein, as Hotch probably filled you in i am sick and wont be coming in for a couple of day, so you are going to have to be Super Y/L and do what i know you do best. I believe in you, just remember everything i told you and you will do perfectly fine. Message me if you need anything my little sweet sugar plum. Queen Oracle Out!

Receiving that text from Garcia did surprisingly calm my nerves. I open the case file to to refresh my memory as walked up to the plasma screen while everyone else was gathering in "Y/N will be filling in for Garcia as she is sick so all information is to be run through her on this case" Hotch looked up at me "Whenever your ready" I look over to see Spencer staring at me then mouthed "you got this" while sticking his thumbs up. The reassurance from him and Garcia sure did the trick cause my nerves were practically gone. I grab the remote displaying the images of the victims while handing out the case files to the agents" Okay, latest victim is Tara Farris, 20, she is the third victim in two weeks all found in a freeway off-ramp by commuters, there were no signs of sexual assault on any of the victims, but all the victims were severely hypovolemic, Tara had less than a pint of blood in her..."

-- After briefing the team on the LA vampire case, i came back to the bat cave to make sure all the systems were working fine and ready to go. I began researching into the victimology to see if i could find any connection between them. a sudden knock on the door made me spine my chair around "Hey I just wanted to say you done great in there and thought you might need a little 'pick me up' so here is a coffee and bagel" I stare straight ahead at the pretty boy placing the drink and food on my table, my heart melted at how cute that little gesture was "Reid thats so sweet, thank you, i did need this, so you just made my morning" i couldn't contain the smile on my face, i was just so taken back at how adorable he was "u-m i actually wanted to ask you u-m, ah u-m by any chance um...do you have an extra copy of the victims forensic report, i didn't seem to get one in my case file" I was a little disappointed as i genuinely thought he was about to ask me out, guess i really am in over my head. "Yeah sure no worries, here, Garcia and i always make extra copies of all the reports" he was about to say something before Morgan stormed in "Reid lets go, Hotch wants us on the plane" Reid looks at me and smiles waving goodbye. I turn back to the computer refocusing my attention on the victimology.

REID'S POV I was so close, all i had to do was say 6 words, 6 words and i might have a chance "Will you go out with me" but no i'm such a coward "Reid its been two months already, are you ever planning on asking her out" I turn back to her office to make sure she didn't hear what Morgan just said as we were only a few feet away "lower your voice she could hear you, and what makes you think i like her" Derek looked at the clueless boy with an ‘are you serious expression’ "Reid you can't go five minutes without talking about here, god damn when we are on a case you don't shut up about the things she does, then when you are in her presence you stutter and continuously stare at her. Reid you just bought her coffee and a bagel for christ sake. If i were you i would swoop in before another guy comes along and take your shot" the last sentence made my blood boil. Knowing she isn't mine and she can very well be with anyone else hurts me "Morgan even if i did like her, i'm me , Reid remember, boy genius who doesn't shut up about statistics, what makes you think a girl like that would go for someone like me" Morgan stops in his tracks to confront him about what he just said "Reid i'd be damned if that girl in there doesn't like you. You two talk constantly, she blushes whenever she is in your presence and for your information Garcia might have slipped and told me that Y/N thinks your cute" she what, there is no way, me, the person who's hair is too long, tie always perpetually crooked and not to mention the darkened circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. She thinks i'm cute.

Y/N POV "Y/N you in yet" JJ said over video call, i was currently trying to hack into Tara's computer. I think to myself, if i was a vampire lover what would i put my password as, then it hits me "that was fast Y/N" i smile to myself "Password was Cullen" I see Reid enter next to JJ staring at the computer screen "Colon?" i laugh a little too loud at his question "No Reid, Cullen, the vampire family from Twilight" He looks at me with confusion "Whats Twilight?" I am taken back by how clueless he "Reid you do realise i'm going to force you to watch all the movies now right" Reid looked a bit scared but chuckled a little -- The case went for two day and let me tell you those were the most tiring two days ever. I mentally make note to appreciate Garcia more cause this job is not easy at all. The team had just arrived back so i decided to go greet them at the elevator as Garcia usually does. The elevator doors open and the first person i see is Reid, his eyes were on the the floor and when he looked up they met mine. An instant smile appeared on his face as he came over an hugged me. I was a little shocked as this was our first hug encounter. He was so soft and gentle, i could have stay like that forever "Hey Y/N, i told you you would do great, how did you find it without Garcia" I looked into his chocolate brown eyes completely entranced "It was an experience and a very educational one, but i do prefer her with me, adds to the excitement" Morgan walked past smiling at me telling me i had done a good job. Just as he was about to leave i saw him nudge Reid and whisper "do it now pretty boy" Reid blushed a little noticing that i had noticed their encounter. "U-m, Y/L, i mean Y/N, I was ah wondering if ah- " i smirk to myself excited about where this is headed "what is it Reid, do you need another copy of the forensic report" i giggle winking at him, he laughed and continue "ha no um i'm sorry about that, what i wanted to ask you was if you would like to go to this Edgar Allan Poe reading at Georgetown, you know like a date...with me" I couldn't contain my smile at all, his attempt at asking me out was so cute i couldn't hold it back "Of course i will Reid, i'd love to go on a date with you" we both smile at each other before parting. i go back to the bat cave to gather my things and as i walking out i saw from the corner of my eye an excited Reid telling Morgan that i said yes to go on a date with him. Here i was thinking he couldn't get any cute.

#mgg wallpaper #mgg #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #baby spence #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminalmindscontent #criminal minds reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer x you #spencer x reader

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i-write-newsies · 3 years

Text

(A/N): I decided to do some really simple and classic fluff after all the stuff in the last Oneshot. Hopefully, this one won't take me a literal MONTH. Hope y'all like it!! <33

AUs:

- Modern

- Coffee Shop

- College

Jack POV:

Jack is a hopeless romantic. A hidden one for the most part, but a hopeless romantic nonetheless.

Truth be told, he's never been in too many relationships, at least not ones that lasted long. He's liked a few girls before, boys too, and even dated a few. But they lasted 3 months, tops. His record for the quickest breakup was after 5 hours when the person found another person to dote on.

Despite bad experiences like that, Jack remains infatuated with love and the idea of soulmates. He listens to romantic songs on repeat, would always be ready to lend you a romcom, and daydreams about perfect dates with some fill-in-the-blank person when he's supposed to be studying Art History.

But lately, that blank template has been gaining more qualities of a certain boy from school. A certain boy with dark brown curly hair, with an adorable hooked nose, with olive-green eyes and a shy smile.

The moment his mind finally puts the pieces of the person together, he shoots up from laying down in his bed. He quickly pauses the music and struggles to unlock his phone out of a mix of confusion and excitement.

He scrolls through his contacts to the K section, clicking on Katherine's contact and pressing the facetime button. "Pick up, Kath..." he nervously mutters.

Suddenly, her face appears on the screen, "Hey, Jack! What's up?" she then notices the half vacant, half nervous expression his face is showing.

"You doin' okay?" Kath asks, brows furrowed.

"Huh? Yeah! I uhhhh..." Kath waits patiently, knowing his ADHD makes him lose his train of thought all too easily.

"Right! So, you're the only one who knows about me bein' kind of a hopeless romantic..." Jack looks down slightly, and Katherine giggles, knowing his embarrassment around loving love.

"What? Does big ole Jack Kelly have a crush?"

"I don't know!" he gives an exasperated sigh, "Maybe!"

"Okay, okay, calm down cowboy. Now which lucky person has caught your eye this time?" Jack mutters something incoherent below his breath. "What? I can't hear ya."

"Davey Jacobs."

Davey POV:

Davey sighs, taking a look at his computer.

A 2000 word essay on a topic of his choice for History due in 1 month. He knows how much time he has to finish this, and he knows that he could wait until a week until it's due to start it and still finish it on time perfectly, but no matter the assignment, there would always be a thought gnawing at the back of his brain telling him he NEEDS to get it done right now. And so he does. But he knows he needs coffee to do so.

Davey carefully slips his computer into his crammed backpack, as well as his wallet. He plans on going to his favorite cafe. The coffee there tastes like shit (though he would never admit it), but he knows the staff, and some of the baristas even attend his school. There was one that stood out to him, a certain Jack Kelly

Davey isn't sure what's so interesting about the creative student. It could be his heavy 'Hatten accent, or maybe it's his enthusiastic puppy dog energy about anything. It's kind of... adorable, I guess. He looks down at the ground while walking, trying his best to hide his red face. Davey doesn't swear much, but fuuuuuck.

He likes Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly of all people. The guy who accidentally SHARPENED HIS FINGER IN A PENCIL SHARPENER ONCE. Davey sighs, Jack may be an idiot, but no one can deny that it's charming in a way. He has tons of golden retriever energy.

Davey doesn't know what to do.

He sits down in a corner booth to avoid as much human contact as possible. He opens up his laptop and opens the tabs needed for his project. He slips on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and attempts to block out the thoughts of Jack Kelly. The essay is number one priority right now. Suddenly, Davey sees a looming figure out of the corner of his eye. He snaps his neck up to see...

Oh no.

Fudge.

"What can I get for ya, darlin'"

Jack POV:

Davey's face heats up. I don't really consider this a win, considering that's the way most people react when I call them darling. What can I say? It's a habit of mine.

"U-uhm..maybe-" he stutters quietly.

I speak up to help him out a bit, "I've seen you here before. You always order the hot chocolate with 2 pumps of espresso, right?" He squeaks out a yes.

"Comin right up, doll" his face lights up a bright red again.

Shit. Did I mess it up? Is he uncomfortable with those terms? I come from southern roots, which has pros and cons. The pros are: I'm really resilient, my tea is sweetened to PERFECTION, and I can smell when it's going to rain. Cons: The situation that just unfolded.

As I enter the kitchen area, I sigh. I come on way too strong. I quickly make Davey's order, after all, I did memorize it. I look at the plain hot chocolate. Needs a little something. He seems like the spicy sweet kinda guy, so I carefully add a good amount of whipped cream, and sprinkle some cinnamon on top. I really shouldn't be bringing favoritism into my work, but Dave should be an exception.

Being careful not to spill my masterpiece built out of hot chocolate and whipped cream, I bring it to Davey, who seems very deep in thought, staring at his computer. Trying not to disturb him, I set the drink gently down, then I lift one of his headphones.

"Whatcha doin' Dave?"

He jumps, turning red once AGAIN. "Jesus Christ, bud, got some sorta skin reddening condition?"

"Wh- I- You-" He sputters before regaining his composure, "One, none of your business, two, none of your business."

I feign a wound and put my hand over my chest, "Davey Jacobs! So rude!" I put my arm over my forehead and sigh dramatically, then sneak a peek at him. He's laughing a little. I grin, so he doesn't hate me! Whew!

A few hours,10 drink orders and slightly too loud joking and laughing later, Davey's still here, working on some big project. At this point I've stopped charging him and have just been paying for them myself. I make my way to his table once more.

I notice his cup is empty, "Refill?" I ask, he nods. That's when I notice the bags under his red eyes. I walk back a bit and lean on his table. "You need to sleep, Dave." He shakes his head as a response and I sigh.

I make my way to the kitchen and decide to not add caffeine in this. He needs it. My hands go on autopilot as I start to think about him. He's just so... pretty.

I bite my lip. Should I...? Ah, fuck it, I'm almost done with my shift. I grab a scrap of paper and a pen and scrawl my number, with the message

'Call me ;P'

Beside it. I take a deep breath and carefully balance the cup all the way to Davey's corner booth. The sight is adorable. Davey is laying down on the table, asleep, head tilted to one side, face illuminated by the computer screen. I smile gently.

All I think about for the rest of the night is that sight. As I sit in bed, drawing the scene, I hear a ding from my phone. I open texts and see from an unknown number:

Hey, Jack?

It's Davey.

The student from the coffee shop.

I grin.

Hey Dave :P

I quickly change his contact to <3 Dave <3 with my recent drawing of him as the profile picture.

Before I know it, we're talking about everything. It's honestly so much easier texting than actually interacting with people. My brain decides to peace out for a long minute, and my hands automatically do the typing. Bad decision. Why? Because I barely even notice when I hit send.

Do you wanna go on a date with me? I was thinking about getting froyo, and maybe watching a cheesy romcom. Whaddya say, Dave?

I can only watch, petrified, as I see...

<3 Dave <3 is typing...

~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~

(A/N):

Hope y'all like this! Pt. 2 will be their date!! btw no one has really interacted or requested fanfics, so if you could vote for this or request something, that would really make me happy.

~ Race

#newsies fanfiction #fic #fic writer #newsies #javid #javey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #coffee shop au #classic #oneshot #newsies oneshots #requests #romance #fanfiction #newsies fic #fansies #livesies

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cuddlepilefics · 3 years

Text

22. Christmas Fair

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Bang Chan

Caregiver: 2racha

Chan’s POV.:

Officially we were on break over the seasonal holidays but me being the workaholic I am, I wasn’t able to sit still and do nothing. That’s why I went to the studio to work on some new tracks. It was much more fun to compose stuff if you could just play around a bit with out the pressure of deadlines. I spent most of the day alone at the studio, losing track of time as I tried out new beats. My members were probably resting at the dorm or roaming the city. There was a small Christmas fair in the town center and my phone kept blowing up with begging texts, asking if we could all go there together. After replying that I’d love to go there tomorrow because I’m busy at the moment, I muted my phone to avoid distractions as far as possible. When I finally shut my computer off and bundled into my coat, preparing for the walk home, it was already very late in the evening. I skipped lunch and haven’t had dinner yet, so I decided to pick up a bite to eat on the walk home. I’d be passing by the fair anyways, why not get something from one of the food-stands there.

Changbin’s POV.:

Chan had been at the studio all day. It was already getting late and one by one my members all went to bed. The only ones remaining in the living room were Jisung and me. We felt a little guilty because our leader was still working and we didn’t. After all, it’s 3racha that produces the songs for stray kids and 3racha also includes Jisung and me, not just Chan. That’s why we grabbed notepads and worked on some lyrics, hoping they’d be of use when Chan would present us the new tracks he was working on. We had both tried to call Chan numerous times over the past thirty minutes to convince him to come home but he never picked up. Then suddenly my phone rang. “Chan?” – “Yeah, hey. I saw you tried to call me?” – “Yeah, we wanted to ask you to come home. It’s getting late.” – “Ah, I’m already on the way back. Y’all already had dinner, right?” – “Hyung, it’s almost midnight. Everyone accept for 3racha is asleep already.” – “I’ll eat a bit on the way, so it might take a bit longer. Should be home in about twenty minutes.” – “Alright, take care, hyung.” – “See you.” And with that the call ended.

Chan’s POV.:

I didn’t really enter the fair because I mostly just wanted to get home quick, but I found a food stand on the outer edge of the fair which sold fish cakes. I bought a fish cake and also picked up a small bag of roasted chestnuts to snack on while walking. I stuffed the bad of chestnuts into my pocket, feeling the heat through the fabric, so I’d have my hands free to eat the fish cake. The meal was perfect to warm me up on a chilly night like this. I finished the fish cake and munched two of the chestnuts before arriving home and unlocking the door. After kicking off my shoes, I made my way to the living room, where I sound Changbin and Jisung between scattered sheets of paper. “Hyung, you’re finally back”, the youngest 3racha member whisper-shouted. “You are aware that we are on Christmas break, right hyung?”, the older rapper scolded. “Aish, yes I am”, I said directed at both of them, “But hey, I brought you some roasted chestnuts to make up for not being home.” Changbin just rolled his eyes at my poor attempt to distract them, while Jisung happily accepted the bag from me, immediately nibbling on one nut. I have to admit, he had never looked like a squirrel more than he did right now. We both chuckled at our youngest before saying good night and getting ready for bed.

The evening seemed to fade out peacefully but the truth was that my belated dinner turned out to have been a mistake. Or at least my food choice had been a mistake. The fish cake wasn’t agreeing with me so well. I couldn’t remember whether there were hints of it being undercooked or if it tasted weird, I just knew that my stomach wasn’t too happy about it. It had started to hurt a few minutes after I arrived home. Slowly the pain increased into cramps, that felt like somebody was stabbing the upper area of my abdomen with a dull knife. I knew that I should just go to bed, everybody else was asleep already. Maybe I’d be able to just sleep it off.

My attempts to sleep the pain off, ended about ten minutes later when the pain had turned into nausea. I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could because Changbin had just gone to bed and was probably not that deeply asleep yet. Slightly bent over with one arm around my middle and the other braced against the wall, I stumbled to the bathroom, flicking on the light. I did make it to the toilet but as soon as I had settled on my knees in front of it, the urge to throw up was gone. I pushed myself back up, groaning in frustration that I had gotten up unnecessarily but as soon as I was on my feet again, I immediately felt sick again. The cycle repeated itself a few times, till I decided to just stay in the bathroom whether I had to throw up in the end or not.

Changbin’s POV.:

I hadn’t been asleep yet, when Chan left the room again. He was probably just going to the restroom, so I closed my eyes again, trying to go to sleep. When he still wasn’t back twenty minutes later, I suspected, he had snuck to the living room to continue working there on his laptop. It’s not like that had never happened before, so to me that was the most likely explanation for his disappearance. I was getting angry at our leader’s behavior, we were on Christmas break for duck’s sake, why couldn’t he just make use of the time he’s given to rest? Controlling my anger to not wake the younger Aussie in our room, I quietly pushed off the blanket and slipped out of the room, determined to drag our leader’s workaholic ass back to bed. When I got to the living room however, everything was dark. Now I really had no idea where my hyung could have gone. On the way back to my room, there was light shining through underneath the bathroom door.

I gently tapped my finger against the door, opening it when I heard a low “Yeah?”. Chan was resting with his back against the bathtub, looking up at me with dark circles under his eyes. “Hey, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed?”, I frowned, noticing the yellowish pallor of his cheeks. “Kinda stuck here”, he mumbled, closing his eyes. “How so?”, I asked, taking a seat opposite of him. “Dinner’s not sitting well. I’m ok, it just hurts right now but everytime I try to get up, I feel like I’m going to be sick”, he breathed. “Was it the chestnuts?”, my eyes widened, remembering that Jisung had finished almost the entire bag. The leader shook his head: “Fish cake” Ok, at least that made only one sick member. “What are you going to do now? Just stay here for the night?”, I questioned. “Probably”, he shrugged, muffling a burp into his fist. “I actually hope I’d just throw up. I’ll probably be fine once it’s out”, he admitted uncharacteristically shy. I sighed and got up.

Chan’s POV.:

Changbin just left and I was glad he’d get the sleep he needed, even though I really didn’t want to be alone right now, it was still better that making one of my dongsaengs stay awake with me. I could handle myself, always have. Could I really? Another twist of my stomach made me doubt it as my mouth started to water. I shifted back onto my knees in anticipation, when the door cracked open once again. I didn’t turn to look at whoever came in, not even when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I got you a bottle of water. Maybe if you chug that down really fast it will make everything come out”, Changbin whispered, setting the bottle down next to me. “Thought you had gone back to bed”, I mumbled sheepishly, wrapping my arms tighter around my middle and gritting my teeth as I was hit with another cramp. “And left you here? Never!”, my dongsaeng gasped. I felt really fuzzy and warm at this comment but was soon brought back to reality when a wave of nausea washed over me. I decided to go along with Changbin’s idea and uncapped the water bottle. Raising it to my lips, the very first sip made it clear that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. I struggled to swallow and it seemed like my mind was preventing me from putting anything else into my already upset stomach. Choking, I spat out the water that was still in my mouth, handing the bottle back. Luckily, the rapper got the hint and quickly took it from my hand. The coughing triggered a gag but that was it. “S-Sorry, c-can’t”, I forced out between clenched teeth, still hovering over the toilet. Changbin sighed and rubbed my back in soothing circles as I breathed heavily, on the edge of throwing up but not quite there. I could taste the fish cake, I could even feel it at the back of my throat but it just wouldn’t come out. Frustrated teeth make their way down my face and I didn’t even bother wiping the away, knowing there’d just be new ones.

Jisung’s POV.:

I always needed some time to fall asleep. I heard shuffling in the hall and people talking in hushed voices but decided to stay in bed, if they don’t value their sleep, it’s their problem, not mine. Until I heard quiet sobs, that is. Startling at the different noise, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, careful to not wake the maknae I was sharing a room with. Padding down the hallway, I followed the noise, ending up in front of the bathroom door. I tapped the door twice as a warning, before carefully pushing it open and stepping in. Sitting on the bathroom floor, I found my other two 3racha members. “What’s going on?”, I yawned, squatting down next to them. With Chan seemingly unable to speak, Changbin answered for him, his hand never leaving the leader’s back: “Channie-hyung had a fish cake for dinner, which isn’t quite agreeing with him. He really needs to be sick but can’t. I tried to make him chug water but he can’t even get that down and I have no other idea what else to do.” Oh, that explains why our hyung is crying so hard. He must feel really bad if he’d voluntarily throw up. I chewed on my lips, thinking hard. The water would have been the first thing to come to my mind too but then I had a different idea. Grabbing a hair clip from the sink, I motioned for Changbin to switch positions with me. He nodded, watching me closely, trying to figure out what I wanted to do.

I knelt down behind my oldest hyung, clipping his bangs back in one swift motion. “Hyung, I’m going to hug you really tight, ok?”, I muttered into the leader’s ear. He nodded, removing his arms from his stomach, gripping onto the edge of the bathtub and toilet seat instead. I gently snaked my own arms around his middle, feeling his tense abs under my hands. “Just slap my arm if it hurts too bad or you want me to stop”, I warned before slowly tightening my arms around him, increasing the pressure I was putting on his stomach. At first nothing was happening, Chan only flinched a bit in pain, till he suddenly pithed forward in my hold, retching harshly. I could see his knuckles turning white, as he braced himself before retching again. This time, there was actually something coming up, although it wasn’t much. I closed my eyes, afraid the feeling of Chan’s stomach, contracting underneath my arms in combination with sight and smell, would send my own stomach over the edge. Instead, I just kept holding my hyung in a back hug, feeling every twitch of his muscles and following his movements when he jerked over the toilet bowl, trying to ignore the sounds of liquid hitting liquid. Every cough, gag or burp was amplified by the porcelain bowl, forcing me to grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, while trying to keep my grip steady. ‘Alright Sungie, just think of puppies, cute little puppies’ I told myself.

Changbin must have seen my face change color because he tapped my back before gently pushing me to the side and taking my place. I don’t usually get sympathy sick but that just now was really testing my limits. With a jerking motion of his head, he signaled for me to leave. His eyes told me that he got it handled and that I should flee as long as I still could. I nodded quickly, slipping out of the bathroom and closing the door between us. Shakily, I went to my room to get my phone and headphones to drown out the noise coming from the bathroom. Turning up the music, I went to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. While I waited for the water to boil, I fetched two peppermint teabags, dropping them into a teapot. I decided to make more than just one cup of tea because my own stomach was still doing flips too. I was still waiting, when my stomach tightened, forcing me to quickly lean over the sink. Luckily the weak gag brought nothing up but that was a close-call. I rested my forehead against the counter, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. I was able to get my bearings and straightened back up to pour the water over the teabags, taking the teapot along with three cups to the coffee table.

Soon, the pair emerged from the bathroom, Changbin supporting a sweaty Chan to the couch, before taking off to fetch a bucket, just in case. “Feeling better?”, I asked, anxiously playing with my fingers. “Yeah, thanks mate”, the oldest replied, voice hoarse from getting sick. He curled up on the couch, drawing his legs up a bit as he shivered. He must be pretty cold in his sweat-through shirt, so I pulled the woolen blanket we always keep in the living room from the back of the couch, covering his trembling form completely. Only barely catching the quiet “Thanks”, a small smile spread on my lips as Changbin returned, placing a bucket next to the couch. He guided me to the other couch where we could cuddle while keeping a close eye on our leader. Seems like we’re in for another 3racha all-nighter….

#sick #sickfic #fanfic #whump #christmas #emeto #fluff #comfort #3racha #skz #stray kids #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung

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gleekto · 4 years

Text

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Even Better Than the Real Thing (4/15)

It takes Kurt until the following afternoon for the haze to lift and for his feet to land back down on the ground after spending the evening floating. He finally logs on to his tumblr and to the entirely unsurprising 13 messages, all anonymous, all asking him if he heard about whether his source met Blaine. He deletes all of them and clicks on his direct message from Mercedes last night.

From LimaBlaineFan to MercedesSing! : Guilty as charged. You found me out.

MercedesSing!: So let me get this straight - Your roommate and close friend is literally working with Blaine Anderson?!

LimaBlaineFan: He’s her love interest. They kiss.

MercedesSing!: Please don’t tell me you’re jealous because you know that’s all acting and you have suddenly gone from number one fanboy to real life acquaintance overnight and there are a good few hundred followers who would be intensely jealous of you if they knew.

LimaBlaineFan: They don’t. And they won’t. But no, I’m not jealous. Blaine is indeed gay, and you know, he doesn’t have a boyfriend right now. Was too difficult to meet someone while on a show like Sing!

MercedesSing!: He did not tell you that.

LimaBlaineFan: He did. And we commiserated about growing up in Ohio - two gay kids. We’re like peas and pod, Blaine Anderson and I.

MercedesSing!: Shut up. You had a heart to heart with Blaine Anderson.

LImaBlaineFan: Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But I can confirm that he is even more beautiful in real life.

MercedesSing!: This is nuts. I’m happy for you. Hell, I’m happy for me. Do you think he can hook me up with Jo Johnson for some music lessons? Kidding. No not really. Anyways. You met Blaine Anderson. And shit got real.

Kurt and Mercedes plot out just the right amount of info to post publicly on his blog from his “source”.

My source confirms that Blaine Anderson is a genuinely nice guy, but you’ve all heard that before. He did find out that Blaine sang in his high school Glee club, and oh, he’s single right now. Don’t get any ideas though, fandom, because Blaine knows there’s a difference between a fan and a friend. Anyways, sounds like Blaine Anderson was as cute as ever - oh and he was wearing cherry red shoes.

...

“Let’s go, Kurt. Off your laptop, put away your homework, we’re going to the cast open mic night.”

Kurt looks up over his computer skeptically. “Open mic night?”

“Oh come on. You don’t even have to perform if you don’t want to. And Blaine asked if you were coming-”

“He did? We talked for like five minutes. How does he even remember my name?” What.

“Yeah. I know it’s weird but I think you’re a good excuse not to have to be networking the whole night. For me too,” Rachel emphasizes. “Come on.”

Kurt nods his head from side to side, feigning indecision but of course he’s going. Blaine Anderson asked for him to come. Or asked if he was coming. Or whatever. He’s obviously going.

...

As he and Rachel are whisked into the Limelight - closed for a private event - by the security guard at the door, he’s sure he has accidentally fallen through a portal into the world of Sing!, with Blaine’s character, Roy Royson, up on stage as usual, serenading his on screen love interest with an unplugged version of an 80′s rock ballad. Today it’s Jack and Diane.

Only Roy Royson would be wearing a plaid flannel shirt and not a fitted red cardigan with tight dark blue jeans and a navy bowtie. And man, Blaine Anderson can rock a bowtie.

“He’s good, right?” Rachel gestures to Blaine on the stage, who sees them and gives a wink and smile. What a showman. “Talented.”

“He was on Sing!, Rachel. Not a shock that he can carry a tune,” Kurt shrugs. No way is he letting Rachel know how captivated he is. He’s seen Blaine as Roy perform on screen countless times and then on repeat, but something about seeing the real Blaine, all styled and a touch deliberately flamboyant but also very boyish singing classic 80′s rock, completely holding the live audience in his hands. He’s hard to look away from. By the time Kurt catches himself staring slightly open mouthed and manages to turn around to get a drink, Rachel already has a drink in hand and is sitting at a table with Jesse St. James and a few of the others he met the other week.

Kurt orders a ginger ale with one lime (can’t be caught drinking underage with the high profile cast), and turns towards Rachel’s table where Blaine is now conveniently sitting. Kurt would not have normally dared to sit beside him for fear of spilling his drink from shaky hands, or worse being tongue tied when being asked a mundane question, but it appears that the chair beside Blaine is the only empty one and Kurt is not sure if it’s a punishment or a reward. So it’s facing his fears or cozying up to the showrunner at a separate table. Awkward.

“Great performance,” Kurt starts as he sits down beside Blaine. “I can appreciate a strong stage presence despite the strange choice of music genre.”

Blaine looks up and his smile widens amusedly as he shifts his chair over to make more room. “Thank you,” Blaine nods and then leans in to Kurt’s ear. “Well, despite the choice of genre, I may have caught you staring.” Blaine winks. Did he just-

Kurt is mortified but Blaine just elbows him in the side and takes a sip of his beer. He was caught. But Blaine doesn’t appear to be mad, or embarrassed, or irritated - In fact, he seems happily entertained . Cocky bastard. “Well, my dad is a big Mellencamp fan, and I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching a classic performance where the lead is in anything other than stone washed jeans and flannel.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh it’s a compliment.” Kurt turns to him. “I did try to do Mellencamp once in a Glee club assignment in my junior year - complete with the flannel. But somehow I couldn’t pull it off. My dad even called me out.”

Blaine laughs, eyes sparkling and staring right at him. Man, that eye contact. “Too forced?”

“Too straight,” Kurt answers and Blaine laughs again like Kurt is both funny and entertaining. “I think I got a lecture about not trying to be someone I’m not just to impress him. That he loves me just as I am blah blah blah.”

Blaine’s face turns serious. “That’s lucky.”

Kurt stares back. “I know.”

“So you were out?”

“Yeah. And maybe thanks to my dad and my Glee club, I survived Lima. But it wasn’t fun. Guess Lima’s just too narrow for all this fabulousness,” Kurt jokes, gesturing at today’s outfit - lime green tight army jeans with a purple button down and scarf. And of course a heart shaped broach.

“Lima’s loss,” Blaine says seriously, reaching out to touch Kurt’s arm. Kurt jumps and then Blaine’s hand is gone again. “Well, you’re in LA, now. The fun is only just beginning.” Kurt’s jaw drops slightly and he can feel himself staring at Blaine, again, and trying to stop being drawn to that impossible magnetism.

“Let’s go, Kurt! It’s our turn.” Luckily Rachel pulling at his arm against the magnetic force rescues him.

“What?”

“I signed us up, of course. Defying Gravity. Let’s go.” Kurt normally loves performing. Loves performing Broadway hits. Loves performing with Rachel. But performing in front of his celebrity crush - that was not on his agenda. “Come on!” She pulls him up on stage. Ah well. Good thing he’s a good actor. Game face is about to be in full force.

When they take their bows, the room full of appropriately enthusiastic applause, Kurt lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That was great, Kurt!” Blaine seems genuinely excited. “You’re a countertenor - You have an amazing voice!” Kurt beams. He has an amazing voice.

Before he can second guess himself, Kurt turns to Blaine and whispers, “Thank you. And I assume your love of Broadway is why I caught you staring.”

Blaine laughs and chinks their glasses. “Guilty.”

...

When he gets home that night, high from all the performances, from the performing, from talking to Blaine Anderson again, he closes his door and screams silently into his pillow. He grabs his phone and texts Mercedes who is of course asleep in New York City.

Kurt: Mercedes, I’m back. We talked. Again. A lot. He kind of stared at me through my whole performance with Rachel. Which he admitted. And laughed. He even likes my voice. I think we’re friends. Like actually friends.

In the morning, Kurt wakes up to Mercedes’ reply.

Mercedes: Of course he likes your voice. You’re epic. And friends? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

#even better than the real thing #gleekto writes #took a few days but here is the next part!

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sheliesshattered · 4 years

Text

Honeymoon On The Orient Express

Clara/Twelve Mummy On The Orient Express AU. Part 3 of For As Long As We Get, following The Impossible Solider and First Row On The Moon, but can be read as a stand-alone. 14,300 words, alternating POV, episode-based AU, light angst, fluff and banter. Available on AO3 under the same title and username.

Honeymoon on the Orient Express

“That’s really disconcerting,” Clara mumbled, interrupting the Doctor’s thoughts.

“Hmm? What is?”

“I can feel you thinking.” She hadn’t moved at all, and though he couldn’t see her face clearly, given the angle and the dim light, he’d guess her eyes were still closed.

“I did warn you that might happen,” he said reasonably.

“Mmm,” she agreed sleepily. “Skin to skin contact, you said. Does the quantity of skin contact make a difference? Because this,” she shifted against him, sliding one of her short little legs over both of his beneath the bedcovers, and wrapping her arm more snugly around his midsection, “is definitely a record.”

Well. Now that was all he was thinking about. There had been something else on his mind, moments ago, something that felt rather pressing, but whatever it had been was gone, replaced by far more pleasant thoughts.

Clara huffed out a little laugh, breath warm against his chest. “Down boy. I haven’t recovered from the last time.”

“Are you complaining? Is that what this is, Complaint Hour?”

“Noooo,” she said, burrowing impossibly closer to him. “I’m just sleepy. How are you not sleepy?”

He tried to rein in his thoughts, keep his arousal from seeping through his skin into hers. “I was,” he said.

“Hmm?” she asked, on the edge of drifting off again.

“I was sleepy. I slept, now I’m awake again. I don’t need as much sleep as you do, you know that.”

“Right,” she said on a sigh. It was different from her usual sighs, not exasperated or angry or at her wits’ end, but soft and comfortable and relaxed. He wanted to box it up and keep it. “I felt you wake up earlier. That’s not what woke me.”

“Then what woke you?”

“You’re worried,” she mumbled. “Or you were before I started talking, anyway. Why are you worried?”

Ah, right. The previous line of thought. It flooded back in, picking up where he’d left off.

“It’s probably nothing,” he assured her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

He felt her come more awake, her eyelashes fluttering against him. “Doctor,” she said in a warning tone. “When was the last time ‘probably nothing’ actually turned out to be nothing?”

She had a point. “I’m reasonably certain this time,” he said anyway.

Clara tensed against him, her mind whirling faster.

“You know, this telepathy thing goes both ways,” he told her. “I can tell when you’re about to institute a new rule.”

“Not a rule, more of a footnote for the future: with this much skin contact, I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, just—”

“Downplaying the chances that something is about to go catastrophically wrong on our space train? Our honeymoon space train? Our honeymoon, on a train, in space? That now apparently also involves, what, some sort of monster on the loose?”

“The fact that it’s our honeymoon is precisely why I’m downplaying the chances,” he said reasonably.

“Doctor, I asked you for one thing, one thing for this trip.”

“You said no running.”

“I said no running. I didn’t even bring shoes I can run in!”

“To be fair, we are on a train, in space. There’s not much room for running anyway.”

“On a train, in space, with trouble looming? How is ‘not much room for running’ meant to be comforting?”

“It might still turn out to be nothing.”

Clara sighed again, but it was back to the exasperated sort. “How certain are you that it’s nothing?”

“Ninety-nine percent sure,” he replied, shrugging a little.

She levered herself up to look down at him through the dimness of their sleeping compartment. “Really?” she asked dryly. “Ninety-nine percent? That’s quite high. Is that the figure you’re sticking with?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, wincing. “Seventy-five.” The number was probably closer to fifty-fifty, but he tried to keep that fact from bubbling to the top of his mind, where Clara might hear it.

“Well, that’s jumped quite a bit. You’ve just lost twenty-four percent.”

“Clara—”

She groaned and sat up beside him in the narrow bed, running one hand through her short hair. The haircut was a trick of the TARDIS, he reminded himself, both enjoying the change and looking forward to having Clara back to her normal self after her next visit to the wardrobe room. He rolled onto his side facing her, traced the pads of his fingers down the ridge of her spine in the starlight.

“This is about the old woman who died earlier, and what she said she saw, isn’t it? That word in your head, that’s what you think this might be?”

“A mummy that can only be seen by someone about to die?” he said. “Either it’s nothing, or it’s exactly what I think it is.”

“Fifty-fifty chance,” she sighed, sounding resigned. Apparently he hadn’t managed to bury that number deep enough. “I mean, can you not just get on a train? Did a wizard put a curse on you about mini-breaks?”

The Doctor hesitated, then asked, “Are you upset with me? Did I spoil this?”

Clara laughed ruefully and shook her head. “No, you haven’t spoiled anything, Doctor. It would hardly be our honeymoon without the threat of a monster lurking somewhere. Honestly, if we want a moment of peace, we’d be better off holing up in the TARDIS and ignoring the rest of the universe for a while.”

“We can still do that,” he told her in a low tone, leaning closer to kiss her bare shoulder. “Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.”

She closed her eyes and hummed happily. “I like the sound of that. But for now, new plan,” she said, business-like, turning her head to meet his gaze. “You go look into this, and I’ll get a few more hours of sleep here. If it is something, come and wake me so I can help, I don’t want to have to hear about how clever you were over breakfast.”

“But that’s my favourite part of breakfast!” he objected. “That and the scones.”

“Go!” she ordered, but he could feel the laughter she was smothering.

“Yes, boss,” he said, meeting her halfway to claim a quick kiss, before clamouring out of bed to get dressed.

It was no use. Clara tried for half an hour or more, tossing and turning in their little bed, but there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to fall back to sleep. Not with the Doctor out wandering around in search of a might-be monster. The Foretold, a mummy that could only be seen in the last minute before death. Because of course there was a cursed mummy on their honeymoon space train. Giving up, she sighed and flung the covers back, and grumbled quietly to herself as she quickly dressed. She had half a mind to nip into the TARDIS for something more practical to wear, but given the lack of options at hand, her beaded flapper dress would have to do for now.

She had brought very little with her from the TARDIS, and as she dressed she left her gloves and costume jewelry sitting on the small bureau beside their empty champagne flutes. Phoning the Doctor would probably be the easiest way to locate him, so her mobile was the only thing worth taking with her — and she had pockets to stash it in, even in a dress like this, because the TARDIS wardrobe was magical like that.

She finished buckling her shoes and then turned to her mobile, flicking it over to the messaging app. Can’t sleep, might as well come help you, she texted to the Doctor. Where are you?

A moment later, his phone dinged in the dimness of one corner of their room, and Clara rolled her eyes. She would have to propose a new rule later: keep your mobile on you. Well, the Doctor couldn’t have gone far, given the confined space of the train. If he came looking for her and found their sleeping compartment empty, his first instinct would be to phone her, so she pocketed her mobile and made her way out into the corridor.

As she stood a moment, trying to decide which end of the train to check first, a blonde woman brushed past her in the narrow hallway. Clara recognised her from earlier in the evening, the young woman whose grandmother had died shortly before she and the Doctor had come aboard. Given the facts about the Foretold that she had gleaned from the Doctor’s mind, it seemed likely that it was connected.

The woman was also holding one high heeled shoe aloft menacingly, and had a single-minded look on her face that Clara knew usually meant trouble, so she quickly turned to follow her.

“Hello? Are you okay?” she called after her, speeding her steps to try to catch up with the woman’s determined pace. “Hello? Excuse me? Miss Pitt, wasn’t it?” she said, following her into the baggage car. “Are you alright? Do you need some help?”

“My name’s Maisie,” she replied as she came to a halt in front of a closed door marked Private. “I’m not mad.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Clara said, taken aback. “I didn’t say you were. But you’ve had a bad day. I think anybody could do with a little bit of help after a day like today.”

Maisie didn’t seem to be listening to her. “Computer, open the door,” she said, addressing the anachronistic panel set into the wall.

“Call me Gus,” the computer replied cheerfully. “I’m afraid this door can only be opened by executive order.”

“Are you okay?” Clara asked again at Maisie’s resulting sound of distress. She jabbed at buttons on the panel at random, but the computer refused to cooperate.

“They won’t let me see her body,” she said to Clara over her shoulder. “They should let me see her body, shouldn’t they?”

She must mean her grandmother, Clara realised. “Yeah, I should think so,” she said, keeping her voice gentle and sympathetic. “It’s in there, is it? I know someone who’s really good with locks. He’s called the Doctor, do you want to come with me, see if we can find him?”

With a little cry bordering on panic, Maisie hit the computer panel with the heel of her shoe, causing sparks to fly and the door to slide open as the panel malfunctioned. She went inside immediately, without so much as a glance in Clara’s direction.

“Or you could do that, because that works, too,” Clara muttered to herself, and quickly followed her in.

The lounge car was as good a place as any to look for clues, the Doctor thought, given that Mrs Pitt’s life support machine hadn’t told him much. He paused in the doorway, surveying the room filled with the train’s night owls, still lingering over their drinks though it was well past midnight local time. What was it the captain had said earlier, about the number of doctors and professors on this trip? It was exactly the sort of coincidence that nagged at him, a loose end to be picked at until it unravelled. In fact, he was certain that the man sitting alone just there was—

The Doctor crossed the room towards him in a few long strides. “What’s the most interesting thing about the Foretold?” he asked without preamble. The quicker he could solve this, the sooner he could get back to Clara.

The man blinked up at him. “I’m terribly sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Human pleasantries. Boring. “You know, the Foretold, mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you’re a dead man.”

“Yes, I know what it is. You see, I happen to be—”

“Emil Moorhouse, Professor of Alien Mythology. I’m the Doctor. Pleased to meet you.” He sat in the empty chair across from the Professor, anxious to get on with it. “So, the most interesting thing about the Foretold. Go.”

“Oh, well, it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you. I can’t think of another myth where it’s so specific. How does it go? ‘The number of evil twice over. They that bear the Foretold’s stare have sixty-six seconds to live.’”

“No, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric,” the Doctor said. “But that’s not it. Try again.” He truly hoped this was leading somewhere. He could be back in bed with Clara, rather than sitting through what was somehow managing to be the galaxy’s most boring lecture on a legendary killer mummy.

“A cynical man might say that you were trying to pump me for information,” Professor Moorhouse said, apparently picking up on his impatience.

The Doctor sighed. If you wanted something done right... “The myth of the Foretold first appeared over five thousand years ago,” he started, hardly even listening to himself as he rambled on, listing out everything he knew about the Foretold. He patted his pockets as he spoke. Where had he left his phone? If Clara was trying to sleep, he probably shouldn’t message her, but maybe she had sent him something. This was the longest they’d been apart since the wedding, after all. He could feel the minutes piling up, like an itch under his skin.

“You certainly know a little mythology,” Moorhouse said when his impromptu dissertation came to a halt.

“I know a lot,” he replied, still rifling through his pockets. “Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true.” Ah! There it was— no, wait, that was the cigarette case containing jelly babies. When he’d filled it, he had imagined how amused Clara would be when he showed it to her. But he’d forgotten about it entirely in the hours since then, preoccupied with things like getting married, and Clara’s presence inside his mind, and how she looked in that dress.

Well, a jelly baby or two could only make this interminable process pass more quickly. He opened the case and held it out to the Professor.

“But that’s the great appeal, isn’t it?” he said, accepting the offered jelly baby. “Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction. But up here, in the stars, anything’s possible. That’s why I chose this field, to be honest. Hoping one day I might meet a real monster.”

“Isn’t that everyone’s dream?” the Doctor said. “But you still haven’t answered my riddle. What’s the most interesting thing about the Foretold?”

“Well, you can’t run from it, that’s for sure. There are accounts of people trying, but it never works. No matter how far you run, it’s always right there behind you.”

“Nope, even colder,” he said, shaking his head.

“Alright, I give up. You tell me.”

“Mrs Pitt, the old woman who died.”

The Professor looked confused. “She died of old age, nothing supernatural.”

“No, that’s my answer.”

“Her death?” he demanded.

“No. The fact that you were here to witness it.” There was some sort of commotion at the other end of the lounge car, and the Doctor stood, quickly moving on to the next step in unwinding the mystery. “Excuse me, Professor.”

Trying to hotwire the jammed door from the inside had been a bust, and with the late hour it seemed unlikely that anyone would drop by a locked compartment of the baggage car and find them stuck inside. Clara’s mobile still remained obnoxiously message-free, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the Doctor came looking for her, and told Maisie as much.

“And this Doctor, he’s your what, exactly?” she asked.

“He’s my, um. My husband, actually,” Clara said, marvelling at the word. “Not really used to saying that yet.”

“How long have you been married?”

“About twelve hours now, give or take,” she replied, leaving out the bit about marrying in a different point in space and time entirely.

“Oh, that’s quite recent! Congratulations!” Maisie gushed.

“Thank you,” she said, bemused, realising it was the first — and perhaps only — time she would be congratulated on her wedding. It wasn’t like she could tell her work colleagues that she’d up and married someone they knew only as the temporary caretaker, so soon after breaking up with Danny. And she hadn’t even begun to consider how she was going to tell her dad and her grandmother.

“...But he left you alone in the middle of the night?”

“I might have kicked him out. He doesn’t sleep much, and was keeping me awake, as well.”

“Yet here you are.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I thought I’d go find him. And then I saw you and you looked like you needed help. It doesn’t matter,” she waved it away. “We’re stuck in this room, probably all night, and all we can talk about is some man?”

“‘Some man’?” Maisie echoed, raising her eyebrows.

“Not that kind of— well, yes, but that’s not the point!” Clara laughed. “You don’t want to hear about my love life.”

“Suppose I do?” she asked lightly, shrugging. “Better way to pass the time than talking about my gran, at least.”

Clara sighed, giving in. “Oh, alright. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good girl-talk session, anyway. What do you want to know?”

“Have you been together long?” the other woman asked, angling herself towards Clara in the semi-dark.

“Together? No, but we were friends for quite awhile first. Close friends, travelled together, that sort of thing. I was...” she paused, looking for the right words, “I was harbouring what I thought were one-sided feelings, convinced myself it couldn’t happen, you know how it is. Even tried dating someone else. But I couldn’t make myself get over the Doctor, despite him giving me plenty of reasons to think he didn’t have feelings for me.”

“So what happened?” Maisie pressed. “How did you get from there to here?”

“Uh,” Clara hesitated, laughing a little. “He met the man I was dating. And he did not approve. I think his actual words were ‘you’ve made a boyfriend error.’ We had a huge row about it, and in the middle of it the truth just sort of bubbled out of me, that I was only dating him because the Doctor had made it clear he wasn’t interested.”

“Except he was interested.”

“He was,” she agreed, nodding and smiling at the memory. “He thought I couldn’t possibly feel the same way about him, given the— the age difference and our friendship, all of that,” she went on, neatly sidestepping the entire two thousand year old alien who changes his face when he dies issue. “We’d already been through so much that once we admitted to our feelings and decided to be together, the rest didn’t take very long. Bit of a rocky start, maybe, but we got there.”

“And the other man? Your ex?”

“Danny,” Clara told her. “He took the breakup harder than I’d expected, but I think he knew how I felt, as soon as he met the Doctor. He’s a good guy, and by far the safer, more stable choice. But just, not who I wanted, in the end.”

Maisie sighed happily. “Life would be so much simpler if you liked the right people. People you’re supposed to like. But then, I guess there’d be no fairy tales.”

Clara smiled softly, thinking of the Doctor demanding, When did you start believing in impossible heroes? “Yeah. Fairy tale, sounds about right.”

Two deaths now, Mrs Pitt and a chef from the train’s kitchen. They both matched what the Doctor knew of the Foretold, down to the sixty-six second interval and the flickering of local electrical fields. Professor Moorhouse had agreed with his assessment, sometime before falling asleep in a chair where they’d been working alongside Perkins in the engineer’s office. Typical.

Clara was probably still asleep too, cozy in their bed. Without him.

Well, his hunch had turned out to be right, she would be glad to hear, so he hadn’t left her completely unnecessarily. At this rate he didn’t have any hope of figuring out what the Foretold actually was and putting a halt to the deaths before breakfast time rolled around, but at least he would have something to tell Clara about when she woke. Which had to be soon, he reasoned. It’d been hours. And maybe she would be able to discern something from the pile of paperwork he’d been poring over to no avail.

Overhead, a chime sounded, then the lights brightened and the blinds over the window automatically raised. Morning, finally. He never had located his mobile, so he disconnected the communication unit from the wall beside him and sonicked it into phoning Clara.

“Wake up, sleepy-head,” he said when she picked up. “Time for breakfast. Knowing this train, it’ll be amazing.”

“Doctor,” she said, sounding annoyed.

“They can’t even get that right, huh? Bad food on trains is traditional!”

Clara groaned. “Please, just—”

“I promise to keep the boasting about how clever I am to a minimum,” he assured her. “I haven’t solved it yet, and there’s been a second murder. So whenever you’d like to find your way out of bed and join me—”

“I’m trapped!” her voice echoed over the phone, breaking through his babbling and shifting his mood like a bucket of cold water over the head.

“What? Where are you?” the Doctor demanded, already running from the room.

“A locked compartment in the baggage car, across from where we parked the TARDIS,” Clara replied, sounding far calmer than he currently felt.

“What the hell are you doing in there? I thought you were sleeping!”

“I couldn’t get back to sleep after you left, so I decided to come find you and help investigate. Then I ran into Miss Pitt along the way — the woman whose grandmother died. She’s stuck in here with me.”

The Doctor sighed loudly, still working his way through the narrow corridors of the train towards the baggage compartment, weaving past passengers making their way to breakfast. “If you couldn’t sleep, you could have—”

“Phoned you?” she finished for him, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Yeah, your mobile’s not lost in one of your pockets again, you left it in our room.”

He cursed himself silently. How many hours had Clara been locked in a cupboard because of his carelessness? “We should probably have a rule about that.”

“Way ahead of you,” she chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m alright, honestly,” she said, her assurances only succeeding in making him suspect that she was not as alright as she claimed. “Just get down here and sonic the door open already, would you?”

“I’m nearly there. Why are there so many damn people on this train?” he growled, finally turning the corner into the baggage compartment. There was the TARDIS, and across from it, a closed door marked Private, heavy and reinforced, with a single blacked-out window. The computer panel beside it had a high heeled shoe protruding from it. He pounded his fist against the door. “Clara!” he called through it, then angled his face back to the communicator still pressed to his ear. “Is that you?”

“Yes! I can hear you,” she said, sounding relieved.

“Have you out in a jiff,” he replied, turning his attention to the shoe that was likely blocking the door’s normal functioning. He removed it, flinching back when the panel sparked in response. The door remained closed, and the panel was in no condition to be used. “Computer, can you open the door, please?” he tried instead.

“Call me Gus,” the train’s AI replied in an obnoxiously friendly tone. “I’m afraid this door can only be opened by executive order.”

“Oh, forget it,” the Doctor muttered. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and pointed it at the lock, only to watch the sonic stutter and die in his hand. “Oh, now the stupid sonic screwdriver’s not working,” he told Clara, narrowly resisting the urge the chuck the useless thing across the room.

“What? What do you mean it’s not working? Why?” she asked, the first hint of panic starting to work its way into her voice.

“I don’t know. Some sort of a suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I said, the stupid sonic screwdriver’s not working.” He pocketed the sonic, grimacing. “What are you even doing in there?”

“Miss Pitt thought they might have put her grandmother’s body in here, she wanted to see her. No such luck, unfortunately. Seems to be a sort of oversized safe or strong room. Valuables and luggage and, well— a rather large, ornate sarcophagus, actually. Do you think it could be...?”

The Doctor felt his blood run cold. “Is it in there?”

Clara was quiet just a moment too long for his current level of anxiety. “I think we might be about to find out,” she said in a small voice. “Turns out the sonic was working. Just not on the door we need.”

Overhead, the lights flickered, exactly as they had sixty-six seconds before the previous two deaths. “Clara, it’s coming!” he said frantically, turning back to the computer panel. To hell with the sonic and Gus and everything else, he was going to get her out of there if he had to pull the door from its hinges with his bare hands. The exposed wiring was probably a better bet. He could short out a computerised door panel in less than a minute, couldn’t he? All he had to do was be more clever than a high heeled shoe.

“Doctor?” Clara said through the phone, but he didn’t have the words to reply to her, all of his attention focused on getting the door open. “Doctor, it’s okay,” she sighed, relieved. “It’s full of... bubble wrap?”

“Bubble wrap?” he repeated, confused. He stopped his work on the panel and tried to peer through the door’s opaque window. “But the lights—”

He heard footsteps behind him and spun around to find himself face to face with Captain Quell and a pair of guards, pointing guns at him.

“Doctor, step away from the door!” Quell ordered.

“My wife is in there,” the Doctor said, unable to find another phrase to convey the importance and urgency of getting that door open.

“Then she’s in trouble, too,” Quell replied. “I spoke to Head Office. There is no mystery shopper. You’re not even on the passenger list!”

“Clara, I’m going to have to call you back,” he said quickly, even as one of the guards closed in on him, handcuffs at the ready.

The line went dead, and Clara sighed, lowering her mobile.

“What happened?” Maisie asked.

“Idiot got himself arrested, sounded like,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Oh, dear. It’s something to do with that sarcophagus, isn’t it? They only showed up after it opened.”

“Probably,” Clara conceded. “The Doctor said there’d been another death, just like your gran’s. And the way the lights flickered a moment ago, there may have been a third. The Doctor thinks— we think, it’s likely all connected.”

Maisie stumbled back a step and sat down heavily on a steamer trunk. “I thought I’d made this happen,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “I’d been picturing her dying for years, like a daydream. I didn’t really mean it, at least I don’t think I did. But then she died, and I just—”

“Hey, listen,” she said, going to her and kneeling beside her. “You can’t blame yourself, you didn’t make this happen. There’s something loose on the train killing people, this isn’t your fault.”

“Right before she died, my gran said she saw something. A man dressed like a mummy monster, she said. And now there’s this sarcophagus.”

“It’s called the Foretold,” Clara said, keeping her voice comforting. “There are legends about it, and that’s what they say it looks like. That’s why the Doctor and I are here, to find a way to stop it. And we will, I promise you.”

“I thought you were on your honeymoon?” Maisie said, looking up at her.

“Oh, we are,” Clara laughed. “The Doctor sort of stumbles into trouble, doesn’t matter where we go. It’s an ongoing problem, believe me. But, luckily, he’s also rather good at solving mysteries and saving the day.”

“When you travelled together before, was it always like this?”

“Pretty much always,” she confirmed with a smile. “Worse, even. Usually there’s more running. Few days ago, we almost blew up a moon. And then he proposed.”

Maisie looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “You rather crave adventure, don’t you?” she asked. “The man you left to be with the Doctor, you said he was the safer, more stable choice. You chose this life. Why?”

Clara sighed thoughtfully and shifted around to sit beside Maisie on the steamer trunk. “Because I get to help people,” she told her honestly. “Because I see amazing things, and it’s never for a minute boring. Because it’s the life the Doctor leads, and always has done, long before he met me, and it’s worth it to be with him, no matter how strange it seems.”

She mulled that over for a moment. “You really are living a fairy tale, aren’t you?” she said softly. “Just not the sort I thought.”

Around them, the white noise hum of the train’s engines came to an abrupt halt. They both looked up, concerned. “That seems like a bad sign,” Maisie said. “What do you think is going on out there?”

“Two, maybe three deaths, and now the engines have stopped. Whatever it is, it’s escalating.”

“And we’re locked in here,” Maisie said, twisting her hands together.

“Right,” Clara said, climbing to her feet and looking around. “We’re stuck here until someone with executive authority tells the computer to let us out. The Doctor will do everything he can out there to figure this out, but maybe there’s something we can do in here to help.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, someone put that sarcophagus in here on purpose, and I’d like to know why.”

“Well, what use is an empty sarcophagus?” Maisie asked, coming to stand beside Clara. “You would expect the mummy to be inside it, wouldn’t you? But instead it looks like some sort of stasis chamber, with all those wires.”

Clara approached it carefully, trying to get a better look at it without actually touching it. “You’re right, it does look like a stasis chamber, doesn’t it? And then the bubble wrap, like there was something fragile inside. But it doesn’t look like there’s been anything in there, it’s not flattened down at all and the wires all look brand new.”

“Maybe it hasn’t been used yet?” Maisie suggested.

“Oh, there’s a thought,” Clara said, pacing back towards her. “Maybe someone wants to put something fragile in there, and put it in stasis for transport?”

“Someone wants to capture the mummy and put it in there, you mean?”

“Could be.”

“But why?”

“To stop it from killing people, maybe? Or to study it? Whoever it is put an awful lot of money and effort into that bit of tech, and then dressed it up just like you’d expect for a mummy straight out of legend. And if it is connected to the Foretold, maybe there’s something else in here connected to it as well.”

Maisie turned on the spot, looking around at the dimly lit room. “It all just looks like luggage to me, ordinary luggage.”

“Not all of it,” Clara said, approaching a pair of large file folders tucked far back on one of the shelves. “Look at this,” she said, hauling one forward and pointing to the Orient Express logo emblazoned on the outside of the folder. “Why keep official papers locked up in here, rather than in the captain’s office?”

“You think someone with the Orient Express is mixed up in all this?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Four people dead, Professor Moorhouse among them, and the Doctor was still no closer to the answers he needed. Worse, he knew his attention was hopelessly divided, a portion of his thoughts devoted to worrying about Clara and how to get her out of the locked store room. He had never liked being separated from her while out on adventure, but it was different now — now that they were married, now that he had let her into his mind.

He needed her here, not just because he missed her, not just so he could stop worrying about her, but because he was better at this when she was with him. Quicker to solve the puzzle, and kinder to the people depending on him to solve it. What would she say, if she was here now? What detail would she have called out that had slipped his notice?

He had to find a way to get her out of that blasted room.

As though Clara could read his thoughts even at a distance, the communicator he’d called her on earlier rang, and the Doctor answered immediately, knowing it would be her.

“Clara,” he said when the call connected, managing to keep the smile off his face but not out of his voice. People were dead, yes, and the rest were being forced by a power-mad AI to study the thing killing them, but he was still a newly married man ridiculously in love with his wife.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, sounding just as pleased to hear his voice. “I take it you aren’t under arrest anymore?”

“We’re up to four dead, now. I convinced Captain Quell that he’s better off letting me look into this than locking me up. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the authorisation codes to the room you’re stuck in,” he added sourly.

“Don’t worry about it, Maisie and I are alright here. And we’re looking into the Foretold here, too, finding out everything we can.”

Of course she hadn’t been sitting on her hands, waiting for a rescue. Not his Clara. “What have you got?”

“First things first: the sarcophagus is actually a secure stasis unit.”

“Right. It’s where they want us to put the Foretold if we capture it.”

“I figured as much,” she replied.

“Please terminate your call and return to work,” the train’s AI said from overhead.

“Was that the train’s computer?” Clara asked. “Gus?”

“Bit of a tyrant, wants us focused on solving the riddle of the Foretold,” he confirmed. “What else?”

“We found some paperwork,” she went on. “Passenger manifests from other ships. Maisie recognised a couple of the names. These are missing ships.”

“So we’re not the first,” the Doctor said, putting together the pieces.

“Please terminate your call and return to work,” Gus said again, more stridently.

“We’re not the first,” Clara agreed. “I’ve got progress reports from a few of them. The Gloriana spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. Performance marked as poor. And the Valiant Heart. Forty-two crew, four died. Performance: promising.”

“Please terminate your call and return to work!” the computer repeated.

“I think you should do as it says,” Quell said, directing the Doctor’s gaze out the nearest window — where the recently deceased kitchen staff could be seen, floating in the vacuum of space.

“Clara, I have to go,” he said, and quickly ended the call.

“I’m sorry. I know that must have been distressing for you,” Gus said. “But if you are disobedient again, I will decompress another area containing less valuable passengers.”

The Doctor turned to the nearest panel, movements sharp with urgency. “Computer, there are two women locked in the secure storage area of the baggage car. I need you to let them out.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” it replied. “I really must insist you return to work.”

He ground his teeth. “One of them is Clara Oswald, my wife and my—” he grasped for the terminology that would make the blasted AI understand “—research partner. I need her here, now.”

“Clara Oswald does not possess any skills vital to the research at hand.”

“She is vital to me,” the Doctor snapped.

“Then I suggest you return to work, before I am forced to decompress any other compartments containing less valuable passengers,” the computer said, menacing through its cheerfulness.

“Less valuable passengers?” he said, a thought occurring to him. “How does it choose?”

“Well, I’m assuming qualifications,” Perkins said. “I wouldn’t take it personally, Doctor.”

“No, no, no. Not the computer, the Foretold. How does it choose who to kill? We’ve assumed it’s random. What if it’s not? I want full histories on all the victims. Medical, social, personal.”

“Well done!” Gus enthused.

The Doctor shot a sour look in the general direction of the nearest overhead speaker. “Don’t mention it.”

Clara lowered her mobile as the call ended, looking at the blank screen.

“That didn’t sound good,” Maisie said.

“Sounded even worse on his end,” she confirmed. “The train’s computer really doesn’t want us talking to each other.”

Maisie frowned in confusion. “Why would Gus care if you talk to your husband?”

“That is an excellent question,” Clara said, looking up at her. “And it tells us something. Two things, actually. First, the AI running this train,” she tapped the Orient Express logo on the outside of the file folder nearest to her, “is in on this whole thing. And second, there’s something in these files that it doesn’t want the Doctor to know about.”

“So maybe we shouldn’t stick our noses where they aren’t wanted?”

“Ooh, no. The opposite, in fact. We have to keep digging, find out whatever it is that Gus doesn’t want us to know.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

“There’s a killer mummy on the loose, and the AI that controls the engines and the life support seems to be enabling it. ‘Safe’ is relative.”

“You’re mad,” Maisie said, shaking her head. “But I suspect you’re also right. Alright, where do we start?”

“The paperwork for the Valiant Heart,” Clara said, turning back to the pile she had sorted through earlier and handing a portion of it to Maisie. “Their performance was marked as promising. Let’s see what they found out.”

“What are we looking for, exactly?”

“Anything useful they learned, any sort of pattern that might help us stop the Foretold from killing people. Could be the smallest detail, so if you notice something, call it out.”

They worked in companionable silence for several minutes, reading through the printouts by what light they could find in the dim room.

“Look here,” Maisie said, pointing to a paragraph as she held the paper out for Clara to see. “It says all four victims died of heart failure. Just like my gran, according to the physician who examined her.”

Clara read rapidly, eyes catching on the phrase drained of all energy at the cellular level.

“Only, that doesn’t make any sense, and I told him so at the time,” Maisie continued. “My gran died in her chair — it’s a sort of portable life support, it had kept her alive for ages. She’d had heart attacks before, and the chair revived her. It should have done this time, too.”

“Your gran’s chair, how is it powered?” Clara asked.

“Batteries. They’re supposed to be good for three or four days on a single charge, but she was paranoid about it, always insisted we recharge the chair overnight, while she slept in the matching bed unit. I’m certain it was charged up when she died, but the engineer, Perkins, told me the batteries were almost completely drained. It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Unless that’s what the mummy does,” she said, finding the other woman’s gaze. “The victims on the Valiant Heart, they didn’t just have heart attacks, they were also drained of energy, see? Suppose the Foretold drained your gran’s chair, too?”

“But why?” Maisie asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “What would a mummy need energy for?”

“Maybe that’s how it moves about, or makes itself invisible to everyone but its victim?” Clara suggested. “Either way, it’s a clue. Let’s see what else we can find...”

Quell was gone, another death. He was running out of time.

“Teleporter. That means tech,” the Doctor said, thinking out loud. “Then sixty-six seconds to do what? Sixty-six seconds. That seems very specific. Too specific for organic. So, what, more tech? A countdown clock? Something charging?”

“A man just died in front of us!” Perkins protested. “Can we not just have a moment?”

“No. No, no, no. We can’t do that. We can’t mourn. People with guns to their heads, they cannot mourn. We do not have time to mourn!” He remembered all too well what Clara had said: The Gloriana spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. At the rate the Foretold was killing and the number of people left on the Orient Express, they didn’t have three days to figure this out. It was choosing its victims strategically, attacking the weakest and most vulnerable people first, but eventually they would all be fair game. For now, Clara was relatively safe — she was healthy, and he knew first hand that her mental state was good — but what would he do once she became a potential target of the Foretold? Would he abandon his commitment to the rest of them, break all his own rules to save her?

He didn’t want to find out.

“Everybody, what takes sixty-six seconds to charge up or to change state?” he went on, barely pausing for breath. “Anyone? Am I surrounded by idiots? If only I could see this thing!” If only there was some way to make the Foretold target him instead of any of the others. Instead of Clara.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Perkins said.

“I’m not joking about it,” the Doctor snapped. “One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!” And a minute would be all he would get, if he could find a way to become the focus of the Foretold’s attention. A minute to solve the mystery, disarm the killer monster, save the day. Sixty-six seconds to get it right. Or else— what? Would the Foretold even be capable of killing him? It had stopped the hearts of all the humans it had killed, but he had two hearts. Would it stop one and leave the other? Stop both? Force him to regenerate? From personal experience he knew that regeneration energy could be used as a weapon, could he take out the Foretold that way?

No dying for either of us, Clara had said. It was rule one. But if it came down to a choice between braving a new face or watching Clara die in front of him, the decision would be an easy one.

“You know, Doctor,” Perkins said, drawing him out of his racing thoughts, “I can’t tell if you’re a genius or just incredibly arrogant.”

“Well—” he paused mid-reply, a thought occurring to him — energy! of course! — “on a good day, I’m both. Ancient tech,” he went on, mind already skipping ahead to the next layer of the mystery. “This thing has been around for centuries. How? Tech that keeps it alive. Tech that drains energy from the living. Scanner,” he said, motioning to Perkins. He quickly scanned Quell’s remains and glanced at the results. Just as he thought. “He’s been leached of almost all energy on a cellular level. The heart attack is just a side effect.”

“Oh, it’s not just a mummy, it’s a vampire,” Perkins said. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“But why take sixty-six seconds to drain its victims?” the Doctor wondered aloud. “Why not just pounce?”

“Phase. Moving energy out of phase. That takes about a minute, doesn’t it?”

Ah, that fit together neatly, with the sort of rightness that the Doctor knew on a gut level meant they were on the right track. “That’s why only the victims can see it. It takes them out of phase so it can drain their energy. You, sir, are a genius! This explains everything!” he enthused, before the rest of his thoughts caught up with him. “Apart from what it is and how it’s doing it. Sorry, I jumped the gun there with the ‘you’re a genius, that explains everything’ remark.”

One of the scientists who had been running simulations to predict who among the remaining passengers and crew the Foretold would target next approached Perkins, handing him a datapad. “Doctor, I think we know the next victim,” Perkins said, passing him the pad.

“Ah, of course,” he said when he recognised the name. “That makes perfect sense.”

At the ringing of her mobile, Clara glanced up from the pile of papers she was looking through, relieved to see the Doctor’s stick insect icon on the screen again. “Hello, Doctor,” she answered, wishing they had time for more than the most basic of pleasantries. They were meant to be on their honeymoon, but had hardly had a spare moment for each other since he had begun to suspect that the Foretold was behind Mrs Pitt’s death. “How are things there?”

“Making progress,” he replied, sounding subdued. “Quell is dead, but we know how the Foretold is choosing its victims, and who will be next.”

“But that’s good news then, right?” she asked, trying to understand his mood. “Maisie and I have been looking through the records on the Gloriana, trying to find some pattern to the order of the deaths. What have you got?”

“It’s targeting the weakest first,” he said. “Physical illness and injury, mental or emotional turmoil, that sort of thing.”

“That matches with what we’ve pieced together about the Gloriana,” she said, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. “So who’s next?”

He was silent a moment then said quietly, “Miss Pitt.”

Clara frowned, concern washing through her. “Are you sure?”

“No sense downplaying it this time. It’s her. Probably soon.”

She rose to her feet and went to the far end of their little enclosure, trying to put as much space between her and Maisie as possible; she didn’t want to upset the other woman unnecessarily. “Look, she’s had a bad day, that’s all.”

“Clara, it doesn’t care,” the Doctor replied grimly. “Her bad day, her bereavement, her little breakdown puts her squarely in its crosshairs. She’s next. Every simulation we’ve run confirms it.”

“Okay,” she breathed, forcing herself to think clearly in the face of this news. “But, but we’re in here and if we stay in here, that thing can’t—”

“This thing can teleport,” he said gently. “We need her here. Even the computer agrees.”

“Okay, so you can save her, right?”

He paused in a way Clara instantly knew meant no, but then said softly, “We don’t walk away.”

She closed her eyes at the familiar phrase. We don’t walk away. Even when it meant making the hard decisions, even when it meant putting themselves or others in danger. The Doctor hadn’t given up yet, despite the odds they were facing, and neither would she. “Alright,” she sighed. “If you can get the door open, we’ll come to you. Where are you?”

“Lounge car, though it’s more of a laboratory now. Gus should have unlocked the door already.”

Clara turned to the control panel on the wall, but the door slid open before she could even touch it. “Yeah,” she told the Doctor, trying not to think about the creepiness of the train’s AI watching her movements that closely. “Door’s open. We’ll be there soon.” She hesitated then said, “I love you.”

“Every good day, every bad day,” the Doctor replied, and ended the call.

“What did he say?” Maisie asked, sounding worried, as she came to join Clara at the open door.

She blinked back tears before turning to the other woman. “He convinced Gus to let us out,” she said, keeping her voice level through will alone. “We’re wanted in the lounge car.”

“Should we bring all this with us?” Maisie asked, gesturing to the papers spread across the floor.

“I don’t think we’ll need it, we’ve learned what we’re going to learn,” she said, shaking her head. “Come on, I don’t trust the computer not to lock us in here again.” Or the Foretold not to strike before they could reach the Doctor, but she wasn’t sure if telling Maisie she was next on its hit list was the right course of action.

In the baggage car outside, the TARDIS stood tall and silent, her one true home, its blue doors beckoning her to safety. Could they evacuate everyone from the train using the TARDIS? Fly away from the Foretold, let the killer mummy be a mystery for someone else to solve? Or at least get Maisie out of danger? She passed the exit to the rest of the train, gaze fixed on the TARDIS, but found the way blocked by some sort of invisible forcefield. Gus, probably, given everything else that had happened.

Maisie touched her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. “Clara, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

She turned to her, still trying to decide how much she ought to tell her. We don’t walk away. “The Doctor thinks he’s figured out how the mummy is choosing its victims. He thinks you’re next,” she said gently.

“Me?” she said, taken aback. “But why?”

“Grief for you gran, all the hurt you stored up. Emotional turmoil is one of the things the Foretold looks for, if the Doctor’s right. And he usually is.”

“And that’s why he wants us to come to the lounge, so he can stop it from happening?” Maisie said. “That’s what the two of you do, that’s what you said — you help people, you save the day.”

Clara forced a smile. “That’s what we do,” she confirmed.

It took far too long for Clara to appear, though the Doctor knew in reality only a few minutes had passed since their phone call. He was anxious to see her after so many hours apart, anxious for this to be over, more than ready to get Clara out of the line of danger and back to the little bubble of happiness yesterday had been. But first he had to solve this, save Miss Pitt if he could, and somehow avoid regenerating as well. Nothing like an impossible task to get the adrenaline pumping.

When did you start believing in impossible heroes? he had demanded of Clara, sour over her faith in Robin Hood. Don’t you know? she’d asked in return, giving him a look that he hadn’t understood until weeks later, when he’d found himself staring at the image of his own past face on the TARDIS monitor and trying to wrap his mind around Clara loving the man he had spent so long denying existed. You stop bad things happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me, she had said to him, back when he hadn’t yet realised that what she meant was I love you.

For her, for Clara, he would be the impossible hero. No matter the cost.

The Doctor looked up as soon as she and Maisie entered the lounge car, finding her gaze instantly, and Clara paused on the threshold. It was ridiculous, they were in the middle of a life or death situation, racing the clock against a killer mummy that could appear at any moment, but she couldn’t help the way her heart stuttered at seeing the Doctor, the way her breath caught in her chest. They had only been apart a few hours, but she drank in the sight of him. He really did look unreasonably good in a suit. His everyday one was bad enough, but he’d had to go and dig up an actual tuxedo for this trip. And then waltz around in it casually saving the day, like a character out of literature come to life, and somehow Clara was meant to focus on the task at hand rather than on how utterly in love she was with this man.

Later, Clara told herself forcefully. They had a mystery to unravel, a monster to defeat, and a train full of people to save. They could hide away on the TARDIS when that was done, and then she could take her time removing that tuxedo from him piece by piece. Again.

He held her gaze as he crossed quickly towards them, and Clara found herself suddenly unsure of how to greet him, of what made sense given the circumstances and the recent changes in their relationship. But the Doctor solved it for her, clasping her hand in his briefly when he reached her. Clara felt their minds connect and a wave of emotion from the Doctor rush in — his love for her, relief at being reunited, the longing he had felt while they’d been separated, and behind it all, a steady joy for her presence in his mind. She responded silently with her own complicated array of emotions, and watched the corner of the Doctor’s mouth curl up before he released her hand and broke the connection.

“Hello again,” Maisie said to him, unaware of their private greeting. “You must be the Doctor. Clara has told me so much about you.”

“How lovely for you,” he said dismissively, already leading her towards one of the desks that had appeared when the lounge transformed into a laboratory. Clearly he had some plan in mind, though Clara could hardly guess at what.

“We passed the TARDIS on the way here,” she told him as she followed them. “I thought about getting inside, hiding, pulling the levers and hoping for the best. But we couldn’t even get in, there was a forcefield around it.”

“It’s probably Gus trying to block our escape route,” the Doctor replied, his attention elsewhere.

“But how does the train’s computer even know what the TARDIS is?” she demanded. “And if it knows what the TARDIS is, it knows who you are.”

“Believe me, the thought has occurred to me,” he said with a quick glance in her direction. “One crisis at a time.”

Before she could reply, Maisie gasped, her eyes wide and terrified. “I see it!” she said, pointing towards the far end of the train car. “I can see the mummy!”

“Do we start the clock?” the train’s engineer — Perkins, Clara thought he might be called — asked the Doctor.

“Not yet,” he replied tersely, picking up a handheld scanner from the desk and stepping between Maisie and where her gaze was fixed on seemingly empty air. “Focus,” he told her as he brought the scanner up to her forehead. “Focus! All your grief, all your trauma, all your hurt — focus it here! Concentrate on how it feels. And now,” he turned the scanner around, pressing it to his own forehead, “it’s mine.”

Clara’s heart lurched, pounding against her ribs as she realised what the Doctor was doing.

“It’s gone, the mummy’s gone!” Maisie said, relieved and confused.

“No, no it’s not. Not for me,” the Doctor said. “Because now it thinks I’m you. Start the clock,” he said to Perkins, dropping the scanner back on the desk.

Clara’s ears were ringing, and she missed what the Doctor said next, her mind racing. Sixty-six seconds, that was how long it took for the mummy to kill its victim. Sixty-six seconds until the Foretold killed the Doctor, her husband, right in front of her. She couldn’t breathe.

Only— that couldn’t possibly be what he had planned, could it? He was a reckless, self-sacrificing idiot on a regular basis, but only as a last ditch effort. His plans never started there. We don’t walk away didn’t mean putting himself in the line of fire the first chance he got, it meant being clever and resourceful, and using his enemies’ weaknesses against them.

Did the Foretold even have weaknesses? What else had the Doctor learned about it in the time they’d been apart?

It didn’t matter; she couldn’t ask him about it right now anyway. What had she learned while they’d been apart? What had the file said about the victims on the Valiant Heart and the Gloriana? They’d been drained of all energy, resulting in a heart attack, every single one of them. Would that even work on a Time Lord? Drain the Doctor to the point of death and he would simply regenerate, and Clara had seen the sort of energy output involved with that — she’d seen it take out an entire Dalek fleet, and still have plenty left over for regeneration.

Was that what he was banking on, that his ‘superior biology’ would be enough to defeat the Foretold? But at what cost? A new face, a new facet of his personality, just when they’d found their footing with this regeneration?

The Doctor will outlive you, but this face might not, he had told her, that night they had finally started being honest with one another. I don’t want to put you through that again, but in the end I won’t have any say in the matter.

He wouldn’t do this intentionally, she had to believe that. He wouldn’t risk regeneration, or worse, unless there was no other choice. Which meant whatever his plan was, he had every intention of outwitting the Foretold before it got the chance to kill him.

At the far end of the train car, the Doctor was addressing the monster only he could see, babbling so fast that Clara could barely keep up. “A tattered piece of cloth attached to a length of wood that you will kill for,” he was saying. “That doesn’t sound like a scroll. That sounds like... a flag!”

“What is he doing?” Maisie demanded from beside her, sounding at the edge of hysterics.

“Saving you,” Clara replied, eyes still fixed on the Doctor.

“By sacrificing himself?? I can’t let him do that! Not on your honeymoon!”

Clara tore her gaze away and turned quickly towards her. “It’s alright, this is what he does. He does mad, impossible things, and he saves people. We just have to trust him.” In that moment, she really wasn’t sure which of them she was trying to convince, Maisie or herself.

“Ten seconds,” Perkins said, watching the clock tick down.

The Doctor backed away from the invisible threat, and as she and Maisie stepped aside to let him pass, his eyes darted to hers, wide and frantic, holding her gaze for only a fraction of an instant.

Clara’s heart seized.

“And all that tech inside you, it just won’t let you die, will it?” he asked the Foretold.

She trusted the Doctor.

“It won’t let the war end,” he said to the empty air as he continued to retreat.

She trusted him.

“It just won’t let you stop until the war is over,” he said, backing up against the wall.

She absolutely trusted him. Even with his own life.

“We surrender!” the Doctor declared.

“Zero,” Perkins said, and Clara’s breath left her in a single rush.

Miss Pitt gasped, pointing. “I can see it again!”

“It’s alright,” Clara said, sounding dazed. “I think we call can.”

“Do I start the clock?” Perkins asked.

“No,” the Doctor said, watching as the mummy raised a shaky salute. “The clock has stopped. You are relieved, solider.”

The Foretold crumbled at his feet, leaving nothing but a pile of dust and dirty bandages, and a personal teleporter unit, its light still glowing faintly.

Perkins sighed audibly. “He’s not the only one.”

“We were fighting that?” Clara asked, approaching as he pulled the teleporter from the remains of the Foretold.

“So was he,” the Doctor replied absently, his mind already skipping ahead to the next impending crisis.

“Doctor—” she said, her eyes wide with emotion.

“Save it,” he said, cutting her off. If she started in on all that now, he would be lost. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Well, Gus,” he continued, addressing the train’s computer. “I think we solved your little puzzle. Ancient soldier being driven by malfunctioning tech.” He sat down at the nearest workbench and sonicked the teleporter, not waiting for Gus to pronounce their doom.

“Thank you so much for your efforts,” the computer replied in its infuriating faux-cheerful tone. “They are greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, survivors of this exercise are not required.”

“Ah, well, there’s a shocker,” the Doctor muttered, focused on his task and utterly unsurprised.

“Air will now be removed from the entire train,” Gus went on. “We hope you have enjoyed your journey on the Orient Express.”

The Doctor glanced up to find Clara at his shoulder, her expression edging on terrified.

“No time to explain,” he said to her, sharp with urgency. “Get as much skin to skin contact as you can manage. I need my hands free, so find a spot and hang on.”

He could feel her standing close behind him, but still nearly jumped when she wrapped both arms around his shoulders and began untying his bowtie. She was quick about it, perfunctory, and his reprimand that this was hardly the time or the place died on his tongue, even as she undid the buttons at his collar and slid her hands inside his shirt.

Focus, her voice said inside his head, so welcome after so long alone that under any other circumstance he could have wept with it. I trust you. I’m with you. Focus.

She was right, of course. He was playing against time, against the train’s AI that wanted to kill them all and leave no witnesses, and each second would directly translate to lives saved. The teleporter in his hands was their only hope of survival, and with the modifications he’d already made, he knew he could save Clara, and himself along with her. But all the other people on the train, all the rest of Gus’s intended victims, their lives depended on how swift and clever he could be now.

He felt Clara’s alarm in response to his thoughts, though she tried ineffectually to shield it from him. I can save you, he projected at her, not pausing his work on the teleporter. But you might pass out first. One thing that might buy you a few extra seconds, my respiratory bypass system— He let go of words and sent her the concepts directly, trusting her to keep up, while he focused most of his attention on expanding the range of the teleporter. She understood, quick as ever, and she pressed her cheek to his neck and tucked her nose into the hollow beneath his ear, her hold around his shoulders tightening.

It surged through him then, unbidden, his adoration and love for her, and he let her feel it too, in all its unfiltered complexity. He remembered thinking, back before Trenzalore and Gallifrey and his regeneration, that Clara was perfect for him in every way. But even then he could not have imagined a moment like this, the synchronicity and balance between them, the reassurance of her presence in his mind, her unwavering trust in him fueling his own belief that he could accomplish the impossible.

Focus, she told him again, letting him feel her love for him in return, letting it overwhelm her growing panic, as the air in the train car grew thin and the other passengers dropped to the floor around them. Save the day, my impossible man...

He felt her arms go limp around him, felt her mind go still, and used his fear of losing her to propel him through the final steps of modifying the teleporter.

It was rule one, after all: no dying.

Clara woke slowly to the feeling of sunlight on her skin and the sound of waves crashing against a shore near at hand. Blinking in the pale light, her gaze immediately found the Doctor. He was stood just a few feet away, scratching in the wet sand with a stick, lost in thought. Clara pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced around the rocky shoreline laid out around her.

“Hello again,” he said. “Sleep well?”

She looked at him in groggy confusion, then out at their surroundings. “Weren’t we just on a train?” The Doctor was still wearing his tuxedo, though the top buttons of his shirt were undone and he’d lost his bowtie at some point.

“Oh, that was ages ago.” He waved it away, attention focused on whatever he was writing in the sand.

“And?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. She was wrapped in a soft plaid blanket, and pulled it closer around her to ward off the brisk breeze blowing in off the ocean. There were more blankets beneath her, laid out to protect her from the rocks and sand.

“And what?” the Doctor said, glancing up at her blankly. “Oh, and we got off the train. The teleporter worked eventually, beamed everyone into the TARDIS. No casualties, just a bevy of sleeping beauties. I tried hacking the train’s computer from the TARDIS, to find out who set this all up. Gus really didn't like that, set off some fail-safe thing, blew up the train.”

Clara blinked at him in surprise. “Blew up the train?”

“Blew up the train,” he confirmed, pantomiming an explosion with his hands before returning to his writing. “But we got away. Then I dropped everyone off at the nearest civilised planet, which happened to be here,” he motioned vaguely, directing her gaze to the city on the shoreline in the distance. “You seemed happy asleep so I left you to it, I know you didn’t get much last night. But I thought you might like to see the sunrise, so I brought you out here.”

“Sunrise?” she asked, looking up at the pale sky and then back at him.

He shrugged, eyes still on the sand. “You slept right through it. I’ll find you another one.”

“So you saved everyone,” she said, smiling a little. Her impossible man.

“No, I just saved you and let everyone else suffocate,” he said, then added a sarcastic little, “Ha ha ha.”

She rolled her eyes at his attempt at humour.

“Yeah, this is just my cover story,” he went on.

“You think you’re funny,” she said, “but I know you too well for that.”

He glanced up at her and then back at the sand. “I’m sorry this trip didn’t turn out as planned,” he said, voice becoming serious again. “I can’t imagine that was the perfect honeymoon you’d envisioned.”

“We solved the mystery, saved the day.” She shrugged. “Sounds pretty perfect to me. You even managed to keep your promise of no running.”

“You can say it, you know,” the Doctor said when she didn’t go on, gaze still downcast.

“What?”

“That you were worried about me, confronting the Foretold the way I did. That my actions made you worry. You don’t have to try to hide that. Not from me.”

Clara took a deep breath, pulled her blanket closer around her. No more lies, no more hiding. That’s what she’d told him, that night they’d agreed to change their future. “You’re right, you did worry me,” she admitted. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to watch you regenerate in front of my eyes,” she said softly. “Again.”

He hesitated, then murmured, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged from within the confines of her plaid cocoon, downplaying the panic that had gripped her in that endless sixty-six seconds. It felt so distant now. “What was I supposed to do, tell you not to try to save Maisie? Convince you to walk away? I figured you had some plan to outsmart it, but even if you hadn’t— even if it had—” She cut herself off, started again. “It wouldn’t have been ideal, but we would have survived it. Though I doubt the Foretold would have been so lucky.”

“If it had been standing next to me and taken the brunt of the regeneration energy, there wouldn’t have been much left of it,” he allowed. “But then we would have been stuck there with no easy way off the train, and Gus still intent on killing everyone. And you know how useless I am when I’ve just regenerated. It would have been far from ideal.”

“Good job you solved it, then,” she said firmly, unwilling to give anymore thought to how things could have gone wrong. “As quick under pressure as always.”

“Still,” he said on a sigh, finally abandoning his stick and coming to sit beside her on the blankets. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

She smiled at him gently and scooted closer to him. “Comes with the territory, I think,” she said, gaze on the distant horizon where the sea met the sky. “It’s natural to worry about someone you love. The potential for hurt and loss, it’s all part of the package. But what’s the alternative? Not caring about anyone? I don’t think either of us are wired that way, Doctor.”

He hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to her hair. Together they sat and listened to the sound of the waves against the shore for several minutes.

“What does that say?” she asked, breaking the silence and nodding at the interconnected circles and lines he’d drawn in the sand. She knew it was Gallifreyan, knew it said something, but the TARDIS didn’t translate the Doctor’s native tongue.

He was quiet a moment. “That’s my name,” he finally said softly, eyes on the sand. “My real name.”

“Your real name?” Clara said, turning to look at him. “Seriously? Am I allowed to know what it is?”

The Doctor leaned towards her and kissed the shell of her ear, and she heard it then, the strange syllables from a language all but gone from the universe, its peaks and valleys reverberating in her mind like a wavelength of light across interstellar space.

She drew in a shaky breath as it settled within her. “I feel like I knew it already,” she murmured. “Like I heard it once, a long time ago.”

“You did, in a way.”

“When?” she asked, shooting him a confused look.

“There was a day,” he said slowly, “before we went to Trenzalore the first time. A day that was erased from your memory, but you remembered some of it when we got to my grave. We were separated in the depths of the TARDIS, and you found a book in the library, a book on the Time War. You read my name in there, and asked me about it later, before the timeline got reset and erased the whole day. Afterwards, I was glad you’d forgotten it, but there have been times since that I wished...” He trailed off. “Yes, you’re allowed to know it. You’re allowed to know it now,” he finished quietly.

It was still so new, it sent a little thrill through her to hear the Doctor acknowledge the feelings for her he’d kept secret all this time. To know that in all those months she had spent wishing that things might be different between them, he had felt the same. In strange ways, it felt too precious, too fragile to be laid bare in conversation, so she sidestepped his almost-confession and focused on the rest of what he’d said instead, the odd image he’d presented of that half-forgotten day.

“There’s a book in your library with your real name written in it?” she asked.

He shot her a sidelong look. “Our library.”

“Our library,” Clara repeated, dazed, and shook her head, smiling at him. “You certainly do know how to woo an English teacher.”

The Doctor made a sour face. “Are we still in the wooing phase?” he groused. “We’re married.”

“Shush, shut up,” she laughed, letting her blanket fall away so she could wrap her arm around his and lean against his shoulder. She found his hand and laced their fingers together. “Thank you for this.”

Clara felt his confusion and knew she would see it on his face if she looked up at him. “For the killer mummy on a train?” he asked. “Or the sunrise that you missed?”

She shook her head, laughing. “For all of it. Getting to see wonders, and save people. For getting to have this life with you. Thank you for making me feel special.”

“Thank you for exactly the same,” he murmured in response, and kissed the top of her head. “Shall I find you another sunrise?”

“Mmm, not just yet,” she said. “I think I’d like to spend some quiet time at home, first. Maybe sleep in a familiar bed a night or two at least.”

He went still beside her, his mind withdrawing from the edges of hers. “You want me to take you back to your flat?” he asked, voice devoid of any particular emotion.

Clara glanced up at him in surprise, then pushed against the boundary between their minds in what she hoped was the mental equivalent of a playful shove. “Daft old man,” she said fondly, clutching his hand tighter. “I meant the TARDIS.”

“Oh,” he said, relaxing.

“My flat hasn’t really been home for me for awhile now, I think. And you did promise we could spend a few days hiding away from the rest of the universe.”

He seemed to be shielding most of his thoughts from her, but she felt the shift in his mood anyway. “I did, didn’t I?” he said. She caught a flash of memory, her naked in the narrow bed of their sleeping compartment on the Orient Express, the Doctor leaning in to kiss her shoulder. We can still do that. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.

“So,” she said, drawing out the syllable and answering his memory with one or two of her own. “TARDIS?”

Quicker than she had time to react, the Doctor stood and scooped her up into his arms, blanket and all. Clara let out an undignified yelp, then wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “I am perfectly capable of walking there myself, Doctor!” she objected, though she really couldn’t claim she minded at all.

“The ground is rather uneven, and you’re still wearing those ridiculous shoes,” he said, carrying her towards where the TARDIS was parked further back on the rocky beach. “Besides, this is traditional, isn’t it? Over the threshold, or whatever.”

“And since when are you a traditionalist?” she demanded playfully, watching his face from her close vantage point.

“Well, you’re only doing this once, right? Proper proposal, proper— other things,” he said, gaze fixed on the TARDIS ahead.

Another bit of memory slipped through whatever barrier he was trying to maintain between their minds — the dimness of their sleeping compartment, her hands on the buttons of his shirt, his hearts thundering—

“You lost your bowtie,” Clara pointed out coyly, fingering the edge of his unbuttoned shirt collar.

“Yes, well, someone thought it was a good idea to untie it while I was in the middle of trying to save everyone.” He was doing his best impression of disapproving, but the quickening of his pace and the thoughts that slipped through his mental shield said otherwise.

She traced the lines of his exposed neck with one fingertip. “I like this look on you,” she told him honestly, tone deceptively casual. “And the jumper you wore to Cole Hill, the one with all the holes in it. Less buttoned up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied tightly.

“You do that.” She could see his pulse fluttering beneath his jaw and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to it.

“Clara,” the Doctor said, sounding strangled. She suppressed a grin.

They reached the TARDIS in what she suspected was far less time than it would have taken her to pick her way across the rocks. As they neared, she freed one hand to snap the doors open, and the Doctor barrelled through with barely a pause. He kicked the doors shut behind them and continued straight to the console, with no indication he had any intention of setting her down.

“And you’re sure you dropped everyone off at the city?” she asked, kissing his ear and having far too much fun winding him up. “No stowaways?”

“Very sure,” he said, awkwardly shifting his hold on her to jab at buttons on the console.

He made the mistake — amateur, really — of meeting her gaze for a moment, and Clara took the opportunity to draw him into a searing kiss. The shield on his thoughts was failing rapidly, much to her delight, and after a moment he gave up all pretense of trying to keep her out. His mind was a jumble of sensations and emotions, of memories and plans for the immediate future, but in amongst all of it one image stood out, different from the rest: the ignition lever on the console, and Clara’s hand wrapped around it.

“Vortex,” he managed, when Clara pulled back for breath. “Now.”

She chuckled against his lips. “You left the rest of the blankets outside,” she pointed out, before kissing him again, raking her fingers through the short curls at the base of his neck.

“The TARDIS can make new blankets,” he replied a minute later, as she shifted her attention to his jaw.

“Fair enough,” she agreed, and reached behind her blindly, fumbling against the console until her fingers closed around the lever. She pulled it home, and felt her stomach swoop as the TARDIS took them away into the Vortex.

“You know, if you’re bored with your own clothing, we have a whole wardrobe room full of things to choose from,” the Doctor said from his position propped up against the pillows. “You don’t have to go around stealing mine.”

“Nah,” Clara said, shaking her head and making the short ends of her bobbed hair brush against the crisp collar of his pilfered shirt. “Stealing yours is way more fun.”

He was staunchly against agreeing with her out loud, but given that she was stood a few feet away wearing nothing but his shirt, he had the luxury of agreeing with her in the privacy of his own mind without being overheard. Her ego didn’t need any more goading.

“Besides, I’m not going far,” she went on. Her attention was focused on buttoning the bare minimum of buttons to keep the shirt closed, the cuffs flopping long over her hands complicating the action. “You said breakfast was right outside the door.”

“Should be. Summoning food is tricky, it’s always a guessing game of ‘how much does the TARDIS like me today?’”

“I did offer to make the trek to the kitchen,” she pointed out reasonably, apparently deciding that three buttons was plenty.

“But then you would have been gone longer, and that would have necessitated more clothing,” he said, absolutely not whinging.

“Says you,” Clara laughed. She padded barefoot over to the door of the expansive bedroom the TARDIS had conveniently placed as close to the console room as possible without shifting the entire central architecture, and poked her head outside. “Oh, wow,” she said, opening the door wider. “It’s an actual breakfast cart. Full of breakfast-y things.”

“You were rather specific on the ‘breakfast’ part,” he said as she wheeled the cart in and closed the door again.

“I haven’t eaten since dinner last night,” she said, her back to him as she inspected the food offerings. “Which was, what— roughly twelve hours, one killer mummy, and one exploded train ago? Not to mention several rounds of physical exertion,” she added, looking at him over her shoulder and wiggling her eyebrows. He wasn’t sure if she meant it to be suggestive or comedic, but the result was an endearing mix of both.

“Care and feeding of a human,” the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair and wondering how disheveled it was at this point. “Which I’m led to believe is rather important.”

Clara snorted. “Oh, please. Some of what’s on here is clearly for you. There’s scones, and coffee, and that is the single largest sugar bowl I have ever seen in my life,” she said, turning to look at him and pointing at the silver bowl in question. The effect was somewhat ruined by the shirt cuff engulfing her entire hand.

“Wouldn’t want to run out,” he shrugged, pushing himself into more of a sitting position and pulling the bedsheet up his lap in some semblance of modesty. Besides his shirt, the only piece of his clothing that had made it as far as the bedroom were his trousers, which lay in a crumpled heap on the floor near the foot of the bed. The rest of his clothes had been left strewn like breadcrumbs leading back to the console room, along with all of Clara’s. He might never find where those cufflinks had rolled to.

She brought him a half-full cup of coffee before he even had a chance to ask — the surest sign yet that she truly loved him — and set the sugar bowl on the bed beside his hip. “Couldn’t you just make the bowl bigger on the inside?” she asked, returning to the cart.

“Bigger on the inside has its charms, but there’s something to be said for comedically oversized, too.” He spooned sugar into his coffee until he was satisfied, then looked up to find Clara watching him fondly. “What?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “Just— I love you, in all your alien weirdness.”

“How is having a sweet-tooth ‘alien weirdness’?”

“You wouldn’t think it would be, and yet somehow you manage it.”

“Just part of my charm, I suppose,” he said, smiling at her smugly.

“Something like that.” She selected a large cinnamon roll from the cart and came to perch on the edge of the bed near him, her own coffee cup balanced carefully in her other hand.

“So, where to, boss?” he asked her in between sips of his sugary coffee.

“I’m still of the opinion that we should take a few days to ourselves here at home. If we land anyplace, we run the risk of encountering trouble, since you seem to just attract it, no matter what we plan.”

“It’s the TARDIS, really,” he said. “She’s philosophically against any trip she deems boring. Doesn’t matter where I set the navigation to take us, she’ll find some interesting alternative that’s only almost what I asked for and take us there instead.”

“I like how you manage to excuse both your poor navigation skills and your danger-magnet status in one breath by blaming it on the TARDIS,” Clara said. “Who, it seems worth pointing out, has just provided us with an incredible breakfast. Seriously, this is the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, don’t take her side in this just because she bribed you with pastries,” the Doctor said sourly.

She grinned at him around a bite of food. “Well, your fault or hers,” she said when she’d finished chewing, “I still vote we stay in for a few days. What do you think?”

“Eh, you’re probably right,” he agreed. “Though we might be able to split the difference, materialise somewhere in real space without actually landing, look at some planets or something. Oh! I could take you to where we saw the Magellan black hole, before the black hole was there, when it was all planets as far as the eye could see. The TARDIS still has an observatory, tucked away somewhere. We could stay in and look at planets.”

“Mmm, that sounds lovely,” Clara said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Especially if I don’t have to put on any real clothes.”

He scowled, more for effect than anything. “If you’re going to keep wearing my shirt, what am I meant to wear?”

She shrugged casually, licking the stickiness of the cinnamon roll off her fingers in a way that was far too distracting. “Find yourself a tshirt or something. I’m told the TARDIS has an amazing wardrobe room.”

“A tshirt?” he demanded, affronted. “I can’t even remember the last time I wore a tshirt!”

“Pinstripe suit boy, if memory serves.”

“Yes, but as an undershirt, not as— Honestly, Clara, I wear layers for a reason!”

“Is the reason because you enjoy the process of removing a dozen pieces of clothing and undoing all those little buttons before we can have sex?”

He sputtered at her, unable to come up with a quick retort as she giggled at him.

“So wear layers, you coldblooded sugar-loving alien,” Clara said, clearly enjoying teasing him. “That holey jumper, or the hoodie you dug up for the Karabraxos heist. Or turn the heat up in the TARDIS and forego clothing altogether. Your choice,” she shrugged.

“Do you want to go see the planets or not?” he demanded.

“My answer depends entirely on your response to my last suggestion,” she said archly.

“Why do I get the feeling that whatever clothing I choose, you’ll eventually appropriate it for yourself?” the Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Because I already told you that wearing your clothes is more fun?”

He sighed loudly. “Oh fine, have it your way.”

“That’s the spirit,” Clara laughed, then leaned in and kissed him, tasting of coffee and cinnamon — tasting of adventure and excitement and the love of his life. “Now shut up and give me some planets.”

#Twelve/Clara #Whouffaldi #Whoffaldi #Clara and the Doctor #Clara Oswald #Twelfth Doctor #Doctor Who fanfic #Doctor Who #Mummy on the Orient Express #please comment and reblog!#available on AO3 under the same title and username #my writing #Honeymoon on the Orient Express #For As Long As We Get #I was told there was no upper limit on how much fluff is too much fluff #so enjoy the dessert that is the last ~3500 words of this story #:D

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rora-s · 3 years

Text

The Derivative Chapter 12: Tests

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 11

I let off a breath closing one text book I’d finished and moving to the next. “You know there’s a difference between learning and memorizing right?” Amita pointed out with a scoff glancing at me over top her laptop screen.

“I am aware. One is knowing the other is understanding but for me they can understandably get intermingled” I explained as I began to go through the next book.

Amita nodded “you’re really stressing about this test you have to do for school huh?”

“Well it is kinda a big deal. The whole prospect of my graduating early is riding on it. That and me getting accepted into college” I explained.

“Oh really what are you looking to study?” Amita inquired.

“Mathematics like my uncle probably, maybe something a bit more hands on to” I explained.

“You know combinatorics is a great field” she offered.

I scoffed “if you don’t say so yourself”

We both giggled “seriously though you should look at applying for CalSci. You could stay local. They have a history of accepting young brilliant minds and programs especially made for those who have spotty school records.”

“You know Larry was saying something similar before” I voiced “maybe I will think about it.”

“Plus I’ve been considering staying at CalSci longer to get my second PhD in physics so you’d have another friendly face on campus other than Charlie and Larry”

“Seriously?” I thought about hanging around CalSci with the brainiac trio. “That sounds really cool”

“I think it’d be cool too and we could take you on a tour of the campus sometime even, you know, show you around” Amita offered.

I smiled “yeah that’d be great”

Just then my friend's phone went off and she answered it “hello? … yeah sure I’ll be right there.” she hung up and started packing her things. “Charlie needs my help for a case with Don.” she informed.

“I can come-”

“He said specifically not to bring you even if you asked. Sorry” Amita told me sympathetically.

“Ugh eighteen can not come soon enough” I groaned.

“There, there” Amita murmured teasingly, patting me on the shoulder as she headed out of the house.

______________________________

“You know when you offered to take me on a campus tour I thought I’d see more than the computer lab” I voiced as the trio finished retesting their flight route math for a third time in the CalSci computer lab.

“I’m sorry but this is very important for the case Don’s working on” Charlie breathed out then thought for a minute “by the way I would appreciate you not telling him I allowed you to help with this math”

“Don’t worry Uncle C, unlike some people I can keep a secret” I muttered. The man shot me a look but let the subject go as we all mulled over what we might have missed.

“I don’t get it,” Uncle Charlie declared finally from his seat on the table behind where Amita was working. “The aircraft should have originated from an airfield that the FBI checked out”

“Maybe they didn’t use an airfield” I suggested from where I sat next to the computer. “Like a highway or something”

“Well then there would have been witnesses” Amita pointed out to the contrary.

“You know, here’s where I get reductive on your ass,” Larry spoke up standing “cause you keep saying aircraft but so far no one’s been able to identify whatever it was that people saw.”

“What are you saying, Larry?” Amita questioned.

“I’m saying instead of building a flight path, let’s try focusing on the object itself,” Larry suggested.

“You know what?” Charlie spoke up, hopping off his table “he’s right.”

“Wait, you're agree that it could be a UFO?” I inquired of my uncle.

“No, but focusing on the craft might yield better results.” The man explained coming over “We could get a visual of the object by building in all the radar sources at the same time, yes, civilian and military.”

“So overlap the radar sources?” Amita clarified as she began to type into the computer.

“That’s right” Charlie confirmed “by layering the images we could build a three dimensional cross section of it”

Amita typed on the computer for a moment and we all leaned in to see “there” she finally declared “now it’s working off of all seven radar sources.”

“And it’s building an image of the object,” Larry added.

We watched as slowly an image began to appear. What we saw looked surprisingly Sci-fi. “Charlie? Is that what I think it is?” Amita inquired.

“Larry I’m sorry I doubted you” I muttered.

“Now, le-let’s be very, very careful” Charlie stammered “we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions or make any assumptions. There could be any number of reasons why that looks like-”

“A vehicle from another part of the universe” Larry finished Charlie’s statement.

___________

3rd POV.

“Hey Charlie” Don greeted his brother knocking on the door to the office space the professor was using in the library.

“Hey” the young brother replied, writing on a piece of paper.

“What’s up?”

“Just grading tests for my Nonlinear Dynamics class.” Charlie informed.

“Glad to see you’re taking my advice and having some fun” Don commented.

“Well, you don’t look like you’ve been having too much fun” the younger brother pointed out, eyeing his brother as Don sat down.

Don sighed “aw man this Gosnell case. Not to mention Abby has to take that test today in school to see if she can get out early.”

“I’m sure she’ll pass” Charlie reassured “and you know Amita’s already talked her into applying for CalSci”

“Yeah I’m just stressed on her behalf I guess” the older brother explained “and anyway with this case I just had to tell a guy that his dad died” Don let off another breath slouching in his seat.

Charlie put down his pencil and turned to give his brother more of his attention “I spent all that time trying to figure out where the plane went. Turns out the pilot didn’t even know, because the rudder was busted.”

“See, that’s the thing” Don explained “I got to find out where he was headed, ‘cause I think that’s why he was killed. You got any ideas? Anything at all?”

Charlie sighed packing up his papers and standing “maybe. Could I, uh could I get some data off the flight recorder?”

“Yeah, I mean, I can see if, uh, Erica can drop some by.” Don offered. “Maybe Amita can help you out” A small smile came to Charlie’s face at the suggestion and Don couldn’t help the knowing grin that came to his face. “Dad said she’s sticking around.”

“Did he?” Charlie asked, turning to his brother.

“Well, you happy about that?” Don inquired.

“Um, are you asking me as her thesis advisor or..?” Charlie ended with a slight chuckle.

Don scoffed at the blush forming on his younger brother’s features “you tell me”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Charlie admitted.

They were quiet for a moment then another thought occured to Don “hey, what’s the deal I thought you were playing golf today.”

“Oh no.” Charlie quickly replied “you know, I’m really no use on the golf course.”

Don sat up as his brother took the seat across from him again “Charlie you know why he likes playing with you, don’t you?”

“I have no idea” Charlie voiced “because I-I’ve got to be the worst golfer in the history of the game”

Don shook his head surprised that his genius of a little brother could be so clueless sometimes “No. it’s the one time he gets to teach you something. You understand?” he explained “I mean I’m learning for myself that it’s not easy raising a genius. That’s his one time” Don wasn’t sure Charlie got what he was saying but just then his phone went off “oh excuse me” he stood up to take the call. “Eppes”

“Don” David’s voice answered “the forensic report from Gosnell’s workshop just came in. We found David Croft’s fingerprints all over the shop.”

“But I thought you said he hadn’t seen him in years” Don questioned confused.

“And so he said” David replied

“All right, look, uh, take a team, pick him up” Don instructed, rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose with his hand “I’ll meet you at the office, okay?”

“You got it,” David agreed before hanging up.

Don pocketed his phone again “alright kid I got to go. See you later” he called to Charlie who nodded his farewell before Don was out the door.

_________

“I pass the dang test and as a reward I get to come out here and watch you all golf in this heat” Abby complained “that’s so not fair”

“Ah come on kid a little exercise never hurt anybody” Don objected “maybe you could try it out for yourself”

“No thank you” the teenager replied edgily heading toward the bench with her backpack full of reading material.

“Where’s Chuck?” Don asked, realizing his younger brother was not in sight.

“I don’t know last I looked, he was right behind us.” Alan replied looking around. “Oh there he is” he voiced when they spotted the younger man coming up to the bench at another angle.

“Hey dad,” Charlie called, dragging his clubs up the incline. “Your clubs weigh a ton”

“Are you kidding, I've used those clubs for ten years” Alan replied looking in his own golf bag as Abby made herself comfortable on the bench. “There’s nothing wrong with them”

“Dad, they’re older than he is,” Don pointed out, going over to look in Charlie’s bag. “I don’t even think they make wood clubs anymore.”

“Yeah I know” Alan said “but each one of ‘em’s got a great sweet spot.”

“Put ‘em in a museum,” Don commented.

“Eh, when Charlie gets better, I’ll buy him a set of his own” Alan offered.

“Well isn’t that encouraging” Abby muttered already part way through the novel on her lap.

“Come on, Charlie, maybe this is the day you’ll par a hole.” Alan suggested.

“I’d just like to get the ball in the hole. That’s all” Charlie stated as Don came over to sit next to his daughter on the bench.

“So you passed the test” Don spoke to his kid as Alan talked to his. “What’s next?”

“I wait and hope CalSci accepts me,” Abby declared looking up from her book. “But who knows if that’s going to happen.”

“Well aren’t you pessimistic” Don muttered.

“Well Donald I had to get it from somewhere” Abby replied with a smirk.

“Yeah your mother” Don stated with a slight grin.

“Funny she said the same thing about you” Abby advised and the pair shared a laugh as Charlie came over to join them.

“Alright Alan show us how it’s done” Don called to his father and the three watched as the eldest among them swung the golf club.

Chapter 13 ->

#numb3rs #numb3rs season 1 #Don Eppes #Charlie Eppes #alan eppes #amita ramanujan #larry fleinhardt #fanfiction #don is a dad #abby calvin #episode per chapter #episode related #also posted on ao3 #also posted on quotev

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writer-k-pop · 4 years

Text

ID Card - Part 1

내가 밀 했잖아! I told you so!

Description: Living as a pretty successful Youtuber and a KQ employee has it’s ups and downs. There are stresses about trying to make sure your identity and actual job are left private but for the most part it’s enjoyable. KQ has offered you a plan to make your Youtube career a full time gig and you’re still unsure on whether or not you should take it. But losing your ID at work may prove more helpful than you imagined. Warnings: None Genre: Word Count: 3k

Ateez Masterlist | Masterlists

*Seonghwa POV*

“I will see you all later!” She finishes the video and suggested videos pop up.

“I wonder where she films these.” Wooyoung thinks aloud from next to me.

“Same, she’s always so good at covering up logos and names. But she’s obviously at practice rooms sometimes.” Hongjoong comments from my other side.

“You should ask her then.” I close my laptop.

“Hyung, how cool would it be if she worked on our next album?” Wooyoung excitedly taps my shoulder.

“Who?” Jongho wanders into the living room.

“(y/n). We just watched her newest video.” Wooyoung fills Jongho in on the conversation. “It’s pretty obvious she works at an entertainment company and I was just saying how it’d be so cool if she worked with us on our next album.”

“Yeah, that’d be so cool!” Jongho agrees, “Hyung, you should ask her to work with us.”

I shake my head quickly. “No, no.”

“Why not?” Hongjoong questions.

“Because she’s got her own schedule and work, I doubt she’d even have the time to.” I answer.

“Still you never know.” Wooyoung probes, “Plus you always watch her videos the day they come out.”

“Yeah, is she like your celebrity crush or something?” Jongho pokes fun.

I quickly shake my head as Wooyoung and Hongjoong answer with a loud “yes!”

My cheeks start to burn so I quickly stand up, “I will see you dorks in the morning.”

“Hyung, everyone has a celebrity crush!” Jongho yells after me sensing my embarrassment, “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“It is when there’s no chance of ever meeting her.” I challenge.

“Says the one who’s a celebrity himself.” Hongjoong mocks me.

I tilt my head at him in slight annoyance and he raises his hands in defeat.

“Just answer, hyung. Yes or no, it would be cool if she worked with us?” Wooyoung pushes.

I let out a deep breath, “Yes, it would extremely cool.”

*Your POV*

“(y/n)! We’re going to be late!” Minhee, my coworker and roommate, picks up her purse in a hurry. “We should really keep better track of time.”

“I thought the meeting was at 11?” I hurriedly follow her out the door of the cafe, hoping the camera is recording at a decent angle.

“No! Did you not get the email saying they moved it to 10:30?” Minhee calls back to me.

“No?” I question, “When did they send it?”

“Late last night.” She answers.

I scoff, “Then no, I don’t check my email until I get into work.”

“Everyone, this would happen to us.” I say to the camera, “We would try to vlog and be cute, only to have to run frantically run to a meeting that was changed last minute.”

Minhee laughs out loud, “This would be our lives.”

I laugh along and film our half run, half walk towards KQ Entertainment.

“We can’t talk about the meeting, can we?” Minhee asks as we slow to wait for the crosswalk.

I shake my head, “Not now, no. All I can say is that it’s with some amazing people.” I smile widely and Minhee laughs at my very vague statement.

“Alright, that settles that.” Minhee nods.

The crosswalk light turns green and we head across the street.

“I have to turn the camera off but I will see you when we��re done with the meeting.” I give the camera a finger gun and stop recording.

As we step through the doors, our shoes resonate the determined clicks of women who will not be late to their meeting. We nod and greet a few coworkers as we scan our ID’s.

“Did the meeting room change too?” I ask as we reach the elevators.

“Thankfully, no.” Minhee smiles as we step into the elevator.

Just as the elevator doors start to close, a male voice yells down the hallway.

“Hold the elevator!”

I quickly press the open door button as Ateez’s Wooyoung reaches the door. My eyes widen when I recognize him.

“Thank you.” He gives us a small bow and pauses for a split second when he looks at us. After pressing the floor above ours, he retreats to a corner of the elevator while furiously texting someone.

The silence in the elevator is broken by Wooyoung getting a phone call.

“Hello?” He answers the call, “I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m in the elevator… Hyung, I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

The elevator beeps for our floor and we leave with a nod to Wooyoung. As the doors close, I hear Wooyoung continue to talk.

“Hyung, (y/n) was in the elevator-“

I don’t have much time to process the whole thing because Minhee is dragging me down the hall towards our meeting room.

“Can I put my stuff down??” I beg as we pass our coworkers.

Minhee shakes her head and pulls me faster. “Nope, the meetings starts in two minutes and we will NOT be late.”

I readjust my purse just before we barrel through the doors to the conference room. Everyone but Ateez’s staff is currently in the room.

“Over here!” Jinho excitedly pats the seats on either side of him.

We take our seats and I pull out my laptop. “Where is everyone else?” I wonder.

Jinho shrugs, “I haven’t heard anything.”

“Ah, they’re running late. Apparently Wooyoung showed up late for their interview.” Insu announces to the room.

Hearing this, my shoulders immediately relax and I take a deep breath. I hear Minhee do the same on the other side of Jinho.

“What? Did you guys run here?” He questions our actions.

I nod. “We were at a cafe and lost track of time. Literally ran here.”

Jinho laughs at us. “Of course that would happen to you. Question: were you filming again?”

I purse my lips and that is enough of an answer for him.

“You need to be more careful. You know KQ wants to turn your Youtube thing into a full time thing. Not just an ‘on the side’ thing.” Jinho reminds me.

I nudge him with my knee because not everyone knows about the deal I struck with KQ. “I know. I know. I just still need to think about it.” I tell him just as the door opens and a few of Ateez’s staff walks in, including their manager.

“The interview started?” Seulgi greets the staff with a nod.

“Yes.” Their manager states, “Thank you for waiting for us.”

“No problem.” Insu says then proceeds to start the meeting.

After an hour and a half of discussing ‘Ateez Logbook’ days and ‘A ChallenZ’ times, Ateez’s manager, Jinsang, apologetically announces that Ateez’s interview would be over soon and they needed to leave. We say goodbye and I begin to pick up my belongings but Insu stops me.

“(y/n). Do you have a minute?” He asks.

The others file out of the room and Insu and I are left alone.

“Have you thought about what the CEO offered you?” He leans his arms on the table.

“A little.” I admit. “I’m just worried.”

“About?” He probes.

“My privacy.” I tell him. “Right now, it’s easy to hide where I am, and who I’m with because I can use the company has a veil. But I lose that veil when I give up this job.”

“You could still have that privacy.” Insu insists.

I shake my head. “No I can’t.”

“Just think about it, okay?” Insu pleads with me, “You know I’d work with the company to give you what you would need. Seulgi, Jinho, and Minhee have already reached out to me about being willing to join your team.”

“They’d leave the Ateez team?” I ask, shocked.

Insu nods, “They all watch your videos. Minhee is in them literally all the time, it makes sense.”

“What would my videos even be about?” I ask, “All I do now is vlogs and a few contented stuff. Vlogging is not going to suffice a full Youtube career.”

Insu smiles smugly, “You think we’d put out this suggestion without having a long list of content ideas for you? Trust me, (y/n), we’re already preparing a whole team for you, if you decide to take this route.”

I chew on the inside of my lip, “If I did this, would I be able to at least still be apart of the plans we discussed today?”

Insu nods, “We can arrange that.”

“Okay.” I take in the information while the currently stored information is swirling around in my head. “Can I have a little more time?” I ask.

“I can give you two more weeks but after that, both of us will start to get hounded on from up high.” Insu gives an apologetic smile.

I nod, “Okay, two weeks. Thanks Insu.” I pick up my bag and head out the door towards Minhee and my office.

She turns from her computer when she hears me walk in.

“What did he want to talk to you about?” Minhee inquires.

“About KQ’s offer.” I simply state, sitting in my chair. Her ID hanging from her neck reminds me that I have yet to put mine on.

“Did he tell you that I said I’d be on your team?” She questions as I dig around my purse for my lanyard.

I nod then scrunch my eyebrows in confusion.

“I can’t find my ID.” I inform her as my digging becomes more frantic.

“What do you mean?” Minhee rolls over to my side of the room.

“I had it coming into the building…” I trail off trying to remember where I could have lost it.

“Did you drop it in the elevator?” Minhee wonders, “That’s the only other place we’ve been besides the conference room.

“I don’t remember seeing it in my bag when we were in the conference room.” I replay the memory in my head. “I’ll call down and see if anyone turned it into the reception desk.”

I dial down and am left in disappointment when the receptionist says that no ID’s have been turned in. Sinking into my chair, I let out a sigh.

“No luck?” Minhee looking at me.

“Nope.” I run a hand through my hair. “Where could it be?” I wonder.

Minhee sighs softly, “I don’t mean to be the voice of life, but we have report deadline today…”

“I know, I know.” I nod and sit up. Rummaging through my purse again, I pull out my camera and set it up on my desk where I know you won’t be able to make out any distinguishing features of KQ.

“I just got done with my meeting.” I inform the future viewers. “But, I somehow lost my ID. I have no idea where I could’ve left it, I just, I can’t find it.”

“She’s losing her mind!” Minhee yells to be heard.

I roll my eyes, “Don’t listen to her. Anyway, I have some work to do so future me, start the time lapse… now.” I instruct myself and then busy myself with my work on the computer.

*Seonghwa POV*

“Why were you so late?” Hongjoong interrogates Wooyoung once the interview is over.

“I swear I was just getting something to eat at the cafe next door and the next thing I know it’s 10:20!” Wooyoung defends himself.

“Just be more careful next time.” I sternly remind him.

“But hyung!” Wooyoung continues excitedly and goes to pick up a lanyard from his locker, “Look.” He proudly shows us the ID with (y/n)’s name and picture on it. “She works here. I’m telling you I saw her in the elevator. It was really her.”

“No way.” Jongho says, inching closer to look at the ID while my heart nearly drops to the floor.

“Yeah, she was with her friend that is always in her videos too!” Wooyoung insists.

“(y/n)?” Yunho clarifies, “Like the Youtuber that Seonghwa hyung watches constantly?”

“It’s not constantly!” I defend myself.

“That one!” Hongjoong claps his hands.

“The one that hyung has a crush on!” Jongho excitedly adds.

I give Jongho a death glare but before I can say anything, our manager, Jinsang, plucks the ID out of Wooyoung’s hands.

“Where did you get this?” He questions Wooyoung.

“She dropped it in the elevator so I picked it up.” He explains.

“Were you going to turn it in?” Jinsang hyung raises an eyebrow, “You know she needs this to get into the building everyday.”

“I was going to after I showed it to the members.” Wooyoung pouts, “They didn’t believe me when I told them I saw her in the elevator.”

Jinsang hyung nods, “Well believe it. She works here. But you can’t say anything to anyone.” He quickly adds, “It’s part of our contracts with her to not say anything about where she works. Part of her privacy policy.” He walks over to his computer with her ID firmly in his hand.

“That’s why some of the practice rooms looked so familiar!” Wooyoung realizes, “Wow, she’s really good at hiding logos.”

“I messaged her.” Jinsang hyung announces, “Now get ready for practice.”

*Your POV*

“Hey could you check the content section to make sure it looks right?” Minhee asks after an hour of working.

“Sure.” I nod and finish up the sentence I’m typing.

As I scroll to her section, a direct message from Ateez’s manager pops up on my computer and I turn off the camera so I don’t have to worry about editing anything out.

“Hey, I have your ID. I don’t know why the members had it but we have it down in their practice room. I can come give it to you.” He sends.

“AH!” I exclaim to Minhee, “I must’ve dropped it in the elevator and Wooyoung must’ve picked it up.”

“Your ID?” She clarifies.

“Yeah, their manager just messaged me that he has it in their practice room.” I explain while typing a response.

“Don’t worry, I can come down and get it. Thank you!” I send.

“Guess who found her ID!” I say when the camera starts to record again. “Let’s go get it.”

Taking my phone and camera with me, I head down to the practice room.

“I feel like such a silly head.” I talk to the camera, “I think on the way up to my meeting, I dropped it in the elevator and one of the artists here picked it up for me. Though it is kind of confusing as to why their manager told me they had it.” I ramble on through the elevator ride and through the hallway. Then turn the camera off so any music isn’t recognizable.

Reaching the door I know to be Ateez’s main practice room, I wait for the muffled music to be shut off before knocking on the door.

“Come in!” Male voices invite me in.

I open the door and stick my head in apologetically.

All eight members of Ateez are standing around, breathing heavily from their practice. Jinsang sees me and waves me in. “Come in.” While he goes to get my ID, Hongjoong assembles the other members.

“We should introduce ourselves.” He announces. “1, 2, 3.”

“8 makes 1 team. Hi, we are Ateez.” They say and bow to me.

I bow back, “Nice to meet you. I’m (y/n).”

“Sorry for being curious,” Hongjoong starts, “But where do you work?”

I’m taken by slight surprise at the curiosity but smile nonetheless, “I actually work with the scheduling and content team for your ‘Logbook’ and ‘A ChallenZ’ videos.”

The silence that follows is quite profound.

“They didn’t realize you worked with their own team, let alone at KQ.” Jinsang informs me, handing me my lanyard, “They watch your Youtube videos all the time.”

My mouth drops open. “Ah, you watch my videos.” I repeat and feel an embarrassed blush spread across my cheeks.

“Seonghwa hyung watches your videos constantly.” Mingi points at Seonghwa, breaking their silence. Seonghwa slaps Mingi’s arm and Yunho runs to grab a phone.

“Can we have a picture?” He asks, “For our own memories? Hyung already told us that we can’t say or post it anywhere.” He adds quickly.

I nod, “Of course.”

Yunho hands the phone to Jinsang, “Let’s take it against this wall. It’s a clear wall.” Jinsang points to the wall nearest me and the eight members shuffle over.

Jongho ends up on my right but he quickly changes spots with Seonghwa. I smile at the seemingly innocent action and make sure my ID is securely tucked away from view. Force of habit.

“1, 2, 3.” Jinsang counts down and snaps a few pictures. “Done.” He lowers the phone and hands it over to make sure we like the picture as well.

I nod in acceptance of the picture and slide my lanyard around my neck. Minhee messages me reminding me about deadlines and I realize I have to get back to work.

“Thank you for finding my ID. It was great meeting you but I have to get back to work.” I apologize, “Jinsang, can you send the pictures to me?” I ask and he responds in a nod. “Thank you!” I say before rushing out the door and back upstairs.

“I found it!” I smile happily into the camera in the elevator, shaking the lanyard, careful not to show my actual ID card.

*Seonghwa’s POV*

“I TOLD YOU SO!” Wooyoung shrieks when the door shuts behind (y/n).

“Mingi, why would you tell her that?” I scold Mingi then turn to Jongho, “I look so red in that picture Jongho!”

“Hyung, when would that chance ever have come up again?” Jongho challenges.

“It might, actually.” Jinsang hyung shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I question.

“There’s a rumor, and it’s just a rumor, that KQ is offering her a whole team for her to do Youtube full time and be a full blown celebrity.” Jinsang gossips with us, “So you may see her in the future at future events and such.”

“That’s really smart.” Hongjoong nods in amazement, “She’s got the following and if she is planning our videos then she’s already really good at it.”

“That’d be so cool.” Mingi thinks wishfully.

“We could even do videos WITH her!” San exclaims.

I shake my head, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Hyung only said it was a rumor.”

Our choreographer claps their hands, “Alright, alright, save the rumors for later. Let’s start practice.”

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez seonghwa #ateez seonghwa imagine #seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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