#I’ve been told my music taste is what plays over the speakers in a forever 21 and Taylor fits that !!!

[maxgicalgirl]

I am exposing myself as a Swiftie I’m so sorry to betray your trust like this

[thebiggestfan1]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 2)

part one here

part three here

word count: 1573

TW: consuming alcohol, language

let me know if you want part three, I’m still not used to writing series but I can try <3

...

Calgary was so much different from Chesterfield. It was big, clean, full of life and even after two months of living there, you still couldn’t get used to it. 

The work was amazing, the income was amazing, your life was amazing. But as hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew.

Before the regular hockey season started, Matt got back to Calgary and you two met in a coffee shop near your apartment. It felt like as if you were back in Chesterfield, just two little kids living their dreams. You haven’t seen him since your sixth meeting, the hockey season occupied him too much, he said. Or was it just an excuse?

You cared too much. And you fell in love too quickly. And there was no way you’d let him ruin his life with all the partying you knew he loved.

After a few more weeks you grew really worried and after an useless visit to his home you’d finally decided to call him. It was long after the game he played that day so he might pick it up. Still, you nearly hung up on him just as he picked the call up, the loud music suddenly blasting through the speakers of your phone.

“Matt? Where are you? I called you yesterday and you didn’t answer so today I went to check on you and you weren’t home and your landlord told me you didn’t come home in days and-” You stopped babbling, scolding yourself. Did you sound as helpless as you were? It was his life and you had no right to talk into it but you just couldn’t help it-

“I’m okay Y/N, don’t worry!” Matthew shouted out and you winced at the loud noise. He sounded really, really drunk. He might have had a reason to celebrate with his team but tomorrow he’s playing again and if he’d be hung over...

“Where are you?” you asked flatly.

“I dunno,” he mumbled into the phone.

“Do you know someone there?” 

“I dunno.” Matt repeated. 

“Get out of there,” you said as calmly as you could, trying to shove the anger you felt aside. “And tell me on what street you are. Or what bar you’re in, I don’t care.”

“Just- just let me be. Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t matter, Matt. You have a game tomorrow, that’s far more important.”

Silence.

You heard the noise getting quieter; he must have been outside as you told him. At least he was sober enough to do that for you.

“Where are you?” you asked again.

“Eden.” he read aloud. You knew where it was - you were celebrating your promotion with your new friends there. It was close enough.

“I’m on my way. Don’t hang up on me until I get there, okay?”

“Yeah.” was the only thing he said. You needed to keep the conversation going til you get to him or he’d probably go back in the bar and you’d loose him.

“So, where did you sleep yesterday?” you asked as you started the car and drove onto the road. It was so dark outside, the only things lighting up your way the street lamps.

“At Dillon’s house, probably.” 

“Who’s Dillon?”

“My teammate.” His teammate, not a random guy. At least that was a good sign. 

You had no idea what to say. Congratulations on winning today and getting drunk as hell a day before another game? Thank god you could see the bar already and didn’t have to say exactly what you thought. 

“Okay, I see you. Just stay where you are, I’m here.” 

Matt didn’t answer but you could see him hang up, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said, sitting down next to him. He gazed at you and you were once again charmed by how beatiful he looked even with the bloodshot eyes. “I think you had enough for today.”

“Can you take me home, please?” he whispered. You had to fight the sudden urge to press your lips on his, taste the alcohol on his tongue, get addicted to his touch; but he was drunk. The worst thing is you probably wouldn’t dare to kiss him sober, either.

“Yes, I’ll take you home.”

...

“You know you messed up pretty big, don’t you?” you asked Matt as you unlocked the door to his apartment. It was a pretty thing that looked really, really expensive; in was on 20th floor in the kind-of-center of the city with an amazing view of the town lighted up like thousands of little stars.

“I have to wash my hair,” was the only thing he mumbled out. You laughed quietly, just now remembering how Matthew acted when he was drunk. It made him even cuter and more clingy and you loved it. 

“In this state? You’re probably gonna drown.” you chuckled softly. “Let me help you.”

He let you take him to the bathroom, let you untangle his pretty hair. You were as gentle as you could be, parting the strands of hair with your fingers. You wanted nothing more that this moment to last forever - it was so intimate for the both of you.

Matt leaned his muscular back against the bathtub, tilting his head backwards as you turned on the warm water and soaked his hair with it. 

A moan escaped his lips as you scrubbed his scalp with the shampoo and your toes curled up in your shoes. Concentrate on washing his hair, you told yourelf. Nothing more. Don’t think of how would the moan vibrate through your whole body with your lips on his, don’t think about how he’d moan when-

“Here you go,” you breathed out, trying to get the images out of your head. Too late - all you could think about was the taste of his lips.

“Thanks, Y/N.” The way he said it...

“I have to go.” you said quickly, too quickly to seem casual. Maybe he wouldn't notice; maybe him being drunk as hell was a good thing.

And still, you didn't move.

Matthew looked at you then, really looked at you with his beautiful eyes - eyes clear despite all the alcohol in his blood.

You were leaning over him in an awkward position, nearly sitting in his lap, with your hands in his hair. And your face was so close to his that all it would take was leaning in and you two would be kissing.

Matt's lips parted, clearly wanting to say something before closing his mouth again.

"You washed my hair," he finally whispered, lifting his right hand and tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Someone has to take care of you, you know." Especially when you can't do that by yourself, you added silently.

"I didn't want to make you angry, Y/N."

"But here we are, Matt."

Silence.

You weren't angry with him; you were so mad at yourself for falling in love with him. Love was dumb and unpredictable and useless and all it left behind was grief and at least one broken heart.

"Will you be there when I wake up?"

You had work tomorrow but...

“Of course I will. I'll stay as long as you need me to stay."

"You have to stop doing that," Matt straightened in his sitting position, the muscles in his arms shifting.

"What?" you asked cluelessly, not getting what was he talking about.

"Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

"Okay, I think it's time for you to go to sleep. A big day tomorrow, remember?" Your palms were sweating, your heart beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it. Did Matthew mean it? Or was he just drunk and wanted to fuck with someone?

"All my days are big if you’re a part of them," he mumbled as he leaned in and kissed you.

The first thing that hit you was that he smelled of cheap vodka and memories.

This was the moment you dreamed about but it was so wrong. You couldn't stop thinking about the alcohol that probably ruled over his body and how he'd regret this the next morning and that he would cut you out of his life once again-

"Stop," you gasped out, leaning out of his welcoming touch. "No, no, no, we can't do this. You're so clearly drunk and this is so clearly a mistake-"

"Is it? I've loved you since I first saw you; even though I can't exactly recall it because we were so young. But I remember that you held your knife and fork in a different way and you were so stubborn when the teacher tried to make you change it. I remember how you braided your hair in two braids with those cute colourful ribbons. I remember you smiling so widely it immediately made my day brighter. I remember I loved you and I think it would be easy to love you once again."

His words once or twice blended together but you got the meaning of them. It was easy to forget he was drunk. The fact that he meant this was enough to make you forget everything else.

"It would be easy to love you once again, too," you whispered. 

Your foreheads were touching and you felt his shaky breath on your cheeks. You should be panicking right now. Maybe leaving him on the bathroom floor would be for the best. But you knew Matt. You trusted him. Yes, it was probably a foolish thing to do, but in love, all people were fools. 

And so you kissed him once again, this time thinking only about how much he felt like home.

[julek]

heyyy, for the two-part drabble game, I know it says character, but can I still go ahead and ask for geraskier with 16 (situation) + 8 (sentence) please? ☺💜

16. After their first date + 8. “You’re lucky you’re cute, because your taste in music is awful.”

Music was still pouring from the speakers as Jaskier led Geralt out of the dimly-lit bar.

Jaskier wasn’t too big on first dates — sure, he enjoyed the feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as his date showed up, the secrecy of stolen glances and casual touches holding great appeal to his curious spirit. Still, after a succession of bad ones —stood up twice, cancelled on one time, and having the embarrassing fake-emergency card played on him— he just didn’t have it in him to put the work in. And he truly didn’t, for a long time, until one fateful evening spent with Yennefer and her girlfriend, Triss, in which they somehow managed to convince him to give it one more try, that they had just the guy for him. He agreed, somewhat begrudgingly, though he was fairly certain the expensive wine and chocolate cake had been part of the plan all along.

Now, as their footfalls echo in the chilly night, Jaskier is glad he came, glad he let his friends convince him, because, truly, he might already be a little bit in love with Geralt — with his hand gestures and the way his face lit up when he mentioned his niece, Ciri; the kindness he’d shown when their waiter messed up his order, assuring him everything was alright, even though he’s allergic to nuts and his airway could’ve closed up within seconds; the interest and understanding that had poured through his amber eyes as he intently listened to whatever story Jaskier had been telling. True enough, Jaskier’s heart was full of love ready to be handed over to whoever stood next to him for more than ten minutes, whether they were willing to receive it or not, but something told him Geralt is different.

“So,” he says, aiming for a casual tone, as though the question that comes next isn’t a matter of life or death. “What kinda music are you into?”

Geralt shrugs, his feet falling perfectly in place, avoiding all the cracks on the sidewalk. “Anything is good, really.”

Jaskier quirks an eyebrow, prodding. “Oh, oh, no— that’s not a valid answer, sorry. This is a very important question, Geralt! What if— what if, God forbid, you like something like, I don’t know, I don’t wanna name any actual band in case you do like them and everything’s ruined forever, but— what if, secretly, you’ve been wearing a Backstreet Boys t-shirt under your sweater this whole time, and I’ve been none the wiser?”

“Would that be so terrible?”

Jaskier gasps, walking backwards in front of him for the dramatic effect. “Of course it would! So, to avoid any casualties, what are your three favorite songs, off the top of your head?”

“Hmm.” Geralt looks both sides before crossing the street, the red and white lights illuminating his profile. “Let me think.”

“Okay,” Jaskier says, and casually loops his arm through Geralt’s, the cold wind biting his cheeks.

Geralt seems to be considering the question carefully, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Finally, when Jaskier’s about to open his mouth to change the subject, he answers.

“Okay,” he says, then clears his throat as his fingers squeeze Jaskier’s elbow when they have to make a turn around a corner. “I’m ready.”

“Oh, oh, okay. Hit me,” Jaskier says, already imagining the possible outcomes — the classics, he reckons, something like Nirvana or Metallica, or, if he’s feeling more adventurous, My Chemical Romance, even.

“Song number one. Never Gonna Give You Up.”

Jaskier frowns.

“Rick Astley’s? Really?”

“Yep.”

Jaskier looks at him, pleading. “Please, Geralt, please tell me you know that’s a meme— is this a joke? Are you saying you like it, but ironically, you know, as a cool joke? Please say yes.”

Geralt grimaces in confusion. “Uh, no? What’s— meme? It’s a good song.”

Jaskier stifles a laugh, his mittened hand covering his eyes. “Oh, darling, no. I need no further examples of your musical preferences. It’s terminal.”

“Hey.” Geralt playfully swats his arm. “It’s not that bad— that guy is smooth, his lyrics are basically poetry.”

“Tell you what,” Jaskier says, grinning. “You’re lucky you’re cute, because your taste in music is awful.”

“Hmm.” Geralt tries to look thoughtful, but his facade falls as his lips curl into a smile. “I can live with that. On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you live with it too.”

Jaskier’s heart seizes with warmth and hope and oh, with full-force love. He smiles.

“Do your worst.”

oh my god, a sequel?

[letsgivethisonemoreshot]

Real Good Man

Word Count: 1,470

Warnings: Not really much.

Summary: Another song fic. This one to the tune of "Real Good Man" by Tim McGraw. Starring Elias playing in a road side dive bar.

Billie, Peyton, and Elizabeth walked into the little dive bar just after sunset. It was a place that people would go for drinks after work, or grab a burger and catch up with friends. Most nights there as live local music. This Saturday night was no different. A bunch of people, all seemingly knowing each other, crowded around blowing off some steam from the work week. Whoever was playing tonight wasn't there yet so they just had music flowing through the speakers.

Girl, you've never known no one like me,

Up there in your high society,

They might tell you I'm no good,

But girl they need to understand,

Just who I am.

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

The girls had found a small unoccupied table. Elizabeth hurried over to it quickly and sat down before someone else could get it. Peyton sat down slowly while Billie ran her fingers along the top of the table cringing at whatever the sticky substance was that she was feeling.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, seeing her face.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little something on the table here." Billie replied, trying to settle back into a normal facial expression. "Maybe we should try and find another one."

"This is the only one that was open. Besides, they're probably all like that. We'll get it cleaned off." Elizabeth replied.

"Even more of a reason why we should leave." Peyton emphasized.

"Guys, it's really busy in here tonight and there's only one girl working. We probably grabbed this right after other people got up and they didn't get a chance to wipe it down yet." Elizabeth tried to ease their minds.

"Right. Like that dirty rag they'd use would actually clean anything off anyway." Peyton rolled her eyes as Billie slowly sat down. "Note to self, don't let Liz pick for ladies night anymore."

"Come on, relax! Let's just get a drink and some wings and have fun!"

Funny how this place was beneath her fancy friends now. However, when they were in high school and this place didn't bat an eye at their fake ID's they'd be in here any chance they got.

"It'll be just like old times."

"What? You mean Billie's going to throw up in the back of a taxi cab on the way home and my phone will get lost forever?"

Billie laughed at Peyton's joke, but I knew she was partially serious. Billie may have been trying, but Peyton wasn't hiding her displeasure at all. I rolled my eyes and looked around for the one poor girl working to see if I could get some water to at least get the table cleaned off. Maybe that would calm them down.

"Ah, now I think I know why Liz drug us out to this crap shack." Billie commented as she looked towards the stage.

Elizabeth and Peyton shifted their eyes to the small stage. The musician had arrived and set his guitar down next to the stool. He was in jeans and boots, the same as just about everyone else in there. Some old worn rock shirt with the sleeves cut off accenting his sculpted arms. He had some bandannas everywhere except on his long brown hair. His hair somewhat flowed into the long beard he had.

I may drink too much and play too loud,

Hang out with a rough and rowdy crowd,

That don't mean I don't respect,

My mama or my Uncle Sam,

Yes sir, yes ma'am,

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

The singer sat atop the stool and rested his acoustic guitar in his lap. He looked in the direction of Elizabeth's table and winked. Elizabeth blushed and a little smile appeared across her lips as he began adjusting the microphone in front of him so he could speak into it.

"Hello I am Elias. Thank you all for coming out tonight. Just as soon as I get Lizzy here all tuned up, we'll be ready to go and hopefully we'll all have a real good time tonight."

Elizabeth didn't take her eyes off of the man on the stage, so she didn't notice the looks Billie and Peyton were exchanging with each other.

"Oh no. No no no. Liz don't tell us you still have a thing for that guy?" Peyton asked.

Elizabeth blushed again. She couldn't deny it. One night she was here and Elias had been playing that night. He hung around after for a few drinks and the two ended up talking. They exchanged numbers by the end of the night. Had talked a lot. She told her friends about him a few months back, and they were disappointed in her taste in men. They thought she could do so much better, so she kept it a secret from them that they had seen each other a few times.

"So what if she does? She's just a little attracted to the bad boy from the other side of the tracks. It's kind of cute." Billie defended.

"Oh yeah, real cute that our Liz could be a groupie for some no name who looks like he hasn't bathed in a week.”

"No one said anything about her being a groupie! It's not like she actually slept with him." Billie stated confidently.

"Oh no?"

"Of course not! She'd have told us!"

“He named the guitar Lizzy!”

“Coincidence? Besides, if she already slept with him I doubt he’d be looking over here giving her those puppy dog eyes. He’d have moved on by now.”

Elizabeth sat and watched her friends as they argued about her life, not giving her any room to input. So she focused her attention back to Elias, biting her lip as she watched him study his guitar. Expertly moving his fingers along the strings and thinking back to their last date.

I might have a reckless streak,

At least a country mile wide,

If you're gonna run with me,

It's gonna be a wild ride,

When it comes to lovin' you,

I've got velvet hands,

I'll show you how a real bad boy,

Can be a real good man.

After finishing up with his guitar, Elias spoke again.

"Alright, now that I'm done with her, I'm gonna head over to the bar and get a drink or three and then we can get this show started! I'll also be taking some requests tonight. Just keep in mind, if they're dirty songs," He paused. "I'm more likely to play 'em."

He winked and stood up as some people in the audience laughed along as they enjoyed their drinks. He set his guitar down and walked over to the bar.

"Ugh. Some people just never grow up." Peyton commented while rolling her eyes.

"You know Liz, it's really not nice of you to come here and tease the poor guy. He's going to get his hopes up thinking he can get someone like you." Billie said to her friend.

"She's right. You don't have to crush two of his dreams in one night."

"Two?" Elizabeth question.

"Well Lord knows his music career isn't going anywhere."

Elias walked across the room back to the stage with a beer bottle in his hand. Finally the waitress had made their way over to their table. She set down some fruity looking drink in front of Elizabeth.

"What can I get you ladies?" She asked in a friendly tone.

"Um, we didn't order this." Billie stated as she pointed at the drink.

"I know. It's from the musician on the stage. He said it was her favorite." She said with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled in return before taking a sip.

"But, how did he know?" Peyton whispered to herself.

The guitar strum startled the girls,and Payton and Billie looked at each other.

"What else can I get you ladies?"

"Hunny, could you give us a minute?" Peyton asked as she looked up at the confused waitress.

She said sure as she stepped back. Elizabeth gave her an apologetic look as she walked away. Both girls looked at Elizabeth, knowing what they wanted to ask but not able to find the words. Elizabeth wasn't sure how the rest of this night would go down after everything that had been said, but at some point she still wanted to formally introduce her oldest friends to her boyfriend.

I'll take all the good times I can get,

I'm too young for growing up just yet,

Ain't much I can promise you,

Except to do the best I can,

I'll be damned,

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

I may be a real bad boy,

Oh but baby I'm a real good man.

Yes I am.

[hobeymakar]

Holiday | M. Barzal Imagine

Dedicated to my girl @softbarzal 

Author’s notes: This is based off the song Holiday by Little Mix. This is the first fic I’ve written in a long time and the first that I’ve ever posted on here, so please be kind to me

Word Count: 2,373

Warnings: Explicit language and brief sexual content, as well as alcohol use

-

Boy, have I told ya? I swear you put the sun up in my sky. When it’s cold, you pull me closer. So hot, it’s like the middle of July (July)

Melinda sees Mat's silhouette appear at the airport in Rio and she could literally cry from how much she's missed seeing him in person. It has been two months since she last saw him and she had been dying to see him again.

"Babe!" he smiles, and that's all it takes for her to run full speed towards him.

He drops his suitcase and she jumps right into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She feels the tears start to roll softly down her cheeks and she hates how emotional she gets after a long time without seeing him.

"Babe, don't cry," he murmurs into her neck, before peppering her face with kisses.

"I can't help it! I missed you!" she replies, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Well I'm here now, baby," he smiles.

She realizes they're in the middle of a crowded airport and jumps back down.

"Welcome to Brazil," she smiles, lacing her fingers with his, as she leads him towards the exit.

"I have a feeling I'm gonna really like it here," he smiles.

They exit the airport and are immediately hit with the humid, tropical air of Rio. They make their way to the car and Mat puts his suitcase in the back while she turns on the car and gets the A/C pumping. He climbs into the passenger seat and she hands him the aux. He plugs his phone into the aux and 20 Something by SZA starts blaring through the speakers, to no surprise.

They sing along to the song while they hold hands over the center console. After 15 minutes, they arrive at her house. She parks her car and he takes his suitcase out of the trunk. They walk up to the front entrance and she unlocks the front door.

"I'm home," she calls out in Portuguese.

They walk into the living room and see a soap opera playing on the TV. They hear footsteps coming down the hall and Melinda's mother appears.

"Hello, you must be Mathew. I'm Gisele," her mother smiles, bringing him into a hug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiles back.

"The pleasure's all mine. Melinda has told me so much about you," she smiles.

"I hope only good things," he replies hopefully.

"Yes, only good things. You and Melinda will be staying in the guest house in the back. I assumed you two would want your privacy. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. Consider this your new home for the time being," she explains.

"Thank you," he nods.

Wanna have a little taste, so let me lay you down (Lay you). Nothing better than your skin on mine (Skin on mine). And I been looking for the feeling, looking all my life. Boy you give it to me every time

Melinda leads him toward the guest house in the back, so he can put his suitcase down. They enter the guest house and go straight into the bedroom. He puts the suitcase down and sits down on the bed. She climbs into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his waist.

"Hi," she breathes out, her lips inches away from his.

Before he gets a chance to say anything, she's kissing him, with an intensity that he's never felt before from her. He kisses back, trying to match her intensity, while she lays him down.

She breaks the kiss to lift her shirt up and he gets with the program right away, lifting her shirt up over her shoulders and head. He tosses it to the ground, not caring where it lands. He takes a look at her blue lacy bra and smiles.

"You're wearing my favorite color on you," he muses, flipping her over gently.

Before being able to make a response, he starts trailing kisses down her neck and chest, while his hands make their way around her back to the clasp of her bra. Just as he's starting to unclasp her bra, the sound of knocking on the door, grabs their attention.

"Lunch is ready, you two," her mother calls out, causing Melinda to groan.

Mat reluctantly gets up and wills his dick to go down from being half-hard in his shorts. Melinda puts her shirt on and suppresses the thoughts of wanting to kill her mom.

"Do we really have to go eat lunch with your mom?" he groans, pissed off that he got cock-blocked by his girlfriend's mom.

"Unfortunately we do. If we're not in the kitchen in five minutes, she'll break the door down and drag us into the kitchen by our ears. That woman doesn't play when it comes to that," she explains, causing him to grimace for a second.

After making themselves look decent, they leave the house and head back into the main house.

Can we make it all night? We don’t stop all up on my body babe, ooh. Touch me like a summer night, you feel like a holiday, ooh-ooh. Up all night, we don’t stop feel up on my body, babe. We’re just dancing the night away. Boy, you feel like a holiday.

So, I’mma let go. No one else in the world could ever come close to you, baby (Uh-uh). Close to you, baby (Uh-uh). We’re taking it slow. Whenever, wherever, we’re lasting forever my baby (Uh-uh). And you’re turning me on (Uh, uh-uh)

Later on in the evening, they arrive at the beach and see the party is in full swing. They walk over to the beach tents and Melinda starts looking for her friend.

After a few minutes, she finds her.

"Melinda!" her friends squeals, bringing her into a hug.

"This is my boyfriend, Mathew. Mathew, this is my friend, Alessandra," she introduces them.

Mat extends his hand for her to shake, but she brings him into a hug instead.

"Melinda has told me so much about you!" she gushes.

"Alessandra, can you come here please?!?" a voice from afar shouts.

"I'll be right back," she sighs, running off towards the guy.

Mat and Melinda greet a few more people they know before grabbing some drinks and making their way towards the music and all the people dancing.

The song Check by Kojo Funds Ft. RAYE comes on and her hips start moving to the afrobeat song. One of his hands goes to her waist as she sways against him. The DJ keeps playing more island jams like Confidence by RAYE ft. Maleek Berry, Finders Keepers by Mabel Ft. Kojo Funds, and Come Closer by Wizkid ft. Drake.

After a while, their drinks are empty and they've grown sweaty from all the dancing.

"Let's go for a swim!" she suggests.

"Okay," he shrugs.

She leads him towards a secluded area of the beach, near a bunch of palm trees and bushes and she takes her cover-up dress off and tosses it on the sand.

"Last one in the water is a rotten egg!" she announces, before running into the water.

Mat chuckles before taking off his shirt and running towards the water. He eventually catches up to her and she's chest deep under the water, while he's only waist deep in the water, due to his height. She jumps onto him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"You know now would be a perfect time to finish what we started earlier," she suggests, the liquor making her bolder than usual.

"I am not getting arrested for having sex on the beach," he replies, even though his dick is very much onboard with the idea.

"It's dark, everyone is at the party, and no one comes to this part of the beach anyway," she assures him.

He remains skeptical, but she starts kissing him, trying to get him onboard with the idea.

It works because minutes later, her bikini and his swim trunks are in her hands as he thrusts inside her. Luckily, there aren't many waves in the water, allowing them to remain coordinated enough to fuck in the water. After a few minutes, they both come and take a minute or so to catch their breaths, before putting their clothes back on and making their way back to the shore. 

Luckily at the party, there are beach towels and they grab some, drying their bodies off. They stay for a while, before deciding to head back home. They take an Uber back home and end up fucking some more, going at it well into the night.

Boy, have I told ya? You give it to me like no other guy. We got that heat, yeah, like the summer (Summer). And that’s why I’m so glad I made you mine

The next morning, she wakes up to feather-light kisses across her abdomen. She opens her eyes and sees Mat in between her legs.

"What are you doing?" she asks, still a little groggy from waking up.

"Trying to see if I can eat," he replies cheekily.

"Well, the food is in the kitchen," she teases.

"Well, what I wanna eat is right here," he replies, kissing her hip bone.

After 20 minutes, they're both laying side by side, out of breath.

"Fuck, we need to shower," he sighs.

"Save water and shower together?" she suggests.

"Of course," he smiles.

They shower together and manage to not fuck again in the shower. They get dressed and head into the main house for breakfast. Gisele and Mat start talking in French, which makes Melinda happy that they're getting along so well.

Right as they're finishing breakfast, they hear the front door to the house open and the sound of a male voice entering the house speaking rapid Portuguese.

Mat shoots Melinda a look and she informs him that it's her dad. Her father makes his way to the kitchen and greets Melinda and Gisele before stopping at Mat.

"Dad, this is Mathew, my boyfriend," she introduces them.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Fernando. Melinda has told me about you," he smiles, shaking Mat's hand.

"How was your business trip, Dad?" Melinda asks, noticing how awkward the exchange between her dad and Mat was.

"It was good. I was able to see your brother while I was in Florida and he sent some gifts with me," he informs her.

His father hands them all their gifts and sits down to have some leftover breakfast.

"Do you kids have any plans today?" Gisele asks.

"We're renting a boat and going out on the water and we're doing some sight-seeing stuff too," she informs her mother.

"Sounds like fun," Gisele smiles back.

So, put your love on me, up on me. Oh, boy, I love it when you’re touching me, holding me. No way nobody put that thing on me, up on me, like you do. Feel like a holiday (Uh, uh-uh). You know that I want it babe (Uh, uh-uh)

After doing some sight-seeing and visiting nearby historical landmarks, they arrive at the dock and get on the boat. Luckily, Mat has his boating license, so they don't need to have a boating driver with them. They sail out to the ocean and pop open a bottle of champagne and take out food from their basket.

They talk about the upcoming season and the upcoming school year for Melinda at Columbia. They even talk about when they first met at the Brooklyn Mets game. She had been chosen for the half-court shot challenge and didn't make the shot. Mat thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and was determined to talk to her. He looked her up on Instagram and slid into her dms, not expecting a response. He never thought that one dm would lead them to where they are now over two years later. They started as friends and after a year of friendship, they got together.

After a while of reminiscing on great memories between them, they head back to the dock. They return the boat and Mat suggests they go for a walk on the beach, with Melinda not expecting anything from it.

They start walking down the beach and at one point Mat stops walking and takes something out of his pocket. She notices it's a white ring box and feels the air get sucked out of her lungs all at once.

"I know what you're thinking and it isn't what you think. This isn't an engagement ring, it's a promise. It's a promise that in the future, preferably after your graduate college, that I'm going to give you a real engagement ring and I'm going to marry you. I hope that's something you want because spending the rest of my life with you is all I want," he explains, while she remains speechless, covering her mouth with her hands.

Soft "oh my gods" fall out of her lips and tears start rolling softly down her cheeks as she's in shock over what's happening.

"So yes, is this what you want?" he asks nervously.

"Yes yes yes, a million times, yes!" she finally cries out.

He slides the ring on her finger and the tears of joy start flowing more freely.

"I'm so in love with you, baby," he smiles, kissing her.

"Me too, babe, me too," she replies, still not sure all of this is real, and not some type of fever dream.

That night, she posts a series of pictures of her and Mat on her Instagram with the caption "whenever, wherever, we're lasting forever my baby 🎶". Mat comments with "I love you forever and ever baby ❤". Mat's phone blows up with texts from teammates and friends asking if he proposed and Melinda's phone blows up with texts from the WAGs, friends, and family, asking if she's engaged now.

They decide to put their phones on Do Not Disturb for the night and spend the night in each other's arms, enjoying the rest of the time they have together before Mat heads back to New York for training camp.

[bangchanzz]

Lover’s Paradise

CHAPTER 4

JEON JUNGKOOK X READER

Summary: Idol!Jungkook and Celebrity!Y/N have been friends for years. For both of them, their friendship has always bordered on more than friends, but neither of them are brave enough to take the leap of faith and confess. But when Y/N hosts the boys of BTS at her suave LA mansion and somehow finds herself sharing a bed with Jungkook, who harbors a few dark secrets of his own, things spin out of control. Tensions rise as she shows them a glimpse of her suave superstar lifestyle, and secrets come out that could change people’s lives forever.

Warnings: Severe depression and anxiety. Mentions of suicide. Eventual smut. Mentions of sex acts. Virgin!JK. Heavy drug and alcohol use. Creepy male celebrities. Depictions of wild parties

Word Count: 3.2K

Author’s Note: She’s short but sweet. This was honestly my least favorite chapter to write. IDK why but it was. I didn't like creepy Drake even though he’s always given me creepy vibes. Also there's a surprise guest appearance lol

Lover’s Paradise Masterlist

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Chapter 4

YOUR POV

Drake’s parties were legendary.

Part of the reason you had brought the boys along was because there was no way you weren’t going to go, but you felt bad about just leaving them in your house for a night while you partied, especially with your role of producer.

The party took place at his Beverly Hills mansion, a huge estate with one of the bougiest houses you’d ever seen. Everything was sleek and modern, the epitome of a tasteful bachelor pad.

Music vibrated the ground and the second you stepped out of the car you smelled the tang of alcohol and unwashed bodies. You grinned, your heart pounding as you gazed at the multicolored lights shining through the windows of the house.

“What are you smiling at?” Jungkook asked, appearing beside you as the others got out of the car.

You glanced over at him. He looked so good it hurt with his hair parted away from his face and a little bit of makeup enhancing his already stunning features. He wore a simple retro t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans, but he wore it well.

“I just love parties,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Heat bloomed across his cheeks. “You want to know something funny? I’ve never actually been to a party.”

“What?” you asked incredulously. “Never?”

He shrugged, looking away out of embarrassment. “I mean, I’ve been to like birthday parties and stuff, and I’ve been clubbing with my friends, but we usually have to get a private room because of the whole ‘fame’ thing.”

You smiled wickedly, taking his hand in yours. His skin was soft and just a little sweaty, but you didn’t mind. “I’m about to show you a whole new world,” you told him, and started dragging him towards the front door.

You lead him quickly through the crowd of people waiting to be admitted; mostly D-list celebrities and influencers hoping to be allowed in if the party got too quiet and needed more people.

Four burly bouncers in black SECURITY t-shirts blocked the doors, shouting at people that they couldn’t get in without an invite.

Jungkook pulled firmly on your hand. “Wait, Taehyung has my invitation-“

You scoffed. “You’re with me, you don’t need an invite.”

You approached the bouncers, Jungkook in tow, who took one look at you and moved aside.

“Enjoy your evening, Miss “Y/L/N,” one of them said as you walked past.

“Thank you!” you said over your shoulder, beaming up at the large man.

“Wow,” Jungkook muttered, holding your hand a little tighter.

And then the two of you were in.

The house was loud, the walls vibrating with the base from the built-in speakers as some rap song played above the chatter. People crowded the rooms, the smell of alcohol getting stronger. You glanced up at Jungkook to see him looking around the house with curious eyes, taking in the celebrities lining the walls.

A waiter in a formal uniform offered you a jello shot on a golden tray and you kindly took one for yourself and one for Jungkook.

“What is that?” he asked, taking the shot glass from your hand and eyeing it carefully.

“It’s a jello shot,” you explained. “It’s just jello with alcohol in it. Come on, take the shot with me. Ready?”

He eyed you with trepidation, taking in your easy smile and excited expression.

He finally sighed and smiled back, holding up his shot glass to clink it against yours and downed it on a count of three.

You easily slurped yours up, familiar with the careful nuances of the jello shot. Jungkook had a bit more trouble, not knowing you really have to suck to get the jello out and instead trying to use his tongue, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“Y/N!” you heard, and you turned around, putting the shot glass down on a nearby credenza. You saw Drake pushing his way through the crowd, a smile on his face as you locked eyes.

Here we go.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Drake said, engulfing you in a hug. As usual, his hands roamed a little more freely than you would have liked, and his hug was a bit tighter and a bit longer than you were comfortable with.

The man could spit bars and throw incredible parties, but he had always been just a little off to you, especially when he was around younger girls.

When you were finally able to pull away, you stepped back as far as you could until you ran into a wall of muscle—Jungkook. He placed a hand protectively on your back, an air of aggression around him that hadn’t been there before.

Clearly, he had picked up f your discomfort.

“Drake, this is my good friend Jungkook, from BTS,” you explained, introducing the two men. You tried ignoring the way Drake’s eyes kept flicking towards your cleavage.

Drake stuck out his hand and Jungkook shook it firmly, his greeting smile not quite meeting his eyes. The whole time he never moved from your side.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Drake said to Jungkook. “I’m a big BTS fan.”

“Really?” Jungkook said in English, his eyes wide with surprise.

Just then, Brandon appeared behind Drake, slapping him on the back and doing one of those half-handshake-half-hug things that guys do.

You took the opportunity to slip away, Jungkook right behind you.

You wordlessly lead him outside to the bar, ordering yourself a vodka cranberry. Jungkook ordered the same.

“He’s a little creepy, isn’t he?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the bar by your side.

“Never meet your heroes, Jungkook,” you muttered, not wanting to look at the expression across his face.

“What?” he asked, clearly confused.

You shrugged. “Most male celebrities are at least a little creepy. The fame gets to their heads and they get used to getting everything they want. They assume because fans are constantly throwing themselves at them that they can do whatever they want with every girl.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “That’s disgusting. Why do people tolerate that?”            You shrugged again. “They’re men. Powerful ones. If you’re a guy in Hollywood, people value you for being you. It doesn’t matter what you do. Men inherit this industry and think it makes them gods, even though its literally been handed to them. Men are allowed to make mistakes, especially at the cost of women.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment, taking in your words. “That doesn’t seem right to me. Morally, I mean.”

The bartender handed you both your drinks and you slid him a tip.

“Yeah, no shit,” you snorted. “Women have been saying that for years.”

He fell silent again, sipping his drink thoughtfully.

The air between you two was silent and heavy. “Enough depressing talk. Let’s have fun,” you told him, grabbing his hand.

You wanted to pretend that you were only holding his hand so that he didn’t get lost in the crowd, but truthfully, you just wanted to hold his hand.

You lead him around the party, introducing him to different model and actor friends of yours, all the while getting progressively drunker.

An hour or two later, the two of you stood alone for a rare moment, hands still intertwined.

“Let’s dance!” you slurred, falling against his chest as you move to let some drunk girls pass.

He put a hand on your waist to steady you, drunk and unsteady on his feet himself.

He grinned as you pulled him towards the dancefloor, finding Jin and Hoseok there already reveling in the music.

You moved your body to the beat, letting your hips drop and sway sensually. Dancing was second nature to you, especially when you were drunk. You abandoned all inhibitions and danced freely, letting your body just move.

At some point, you began teaching Hoseok how to twerk, and Jungkook left to go get another drink, and you tried not to miss the feeling of his hand in yours.

You jumped at the sudden feeling of a hand on your elbow, a small part of you gleeful at the idea that it might be Jungkook.

But the blue eyes, blonde hair, and rugged face belonged to the one and only Luke Hemmings, known more intimately to you as your ex-boyfriend.

“Luke!” you squealed, throwing yourself into his arms. He hugged you tightly, a chuckle reverberating through his broad chest.

Luke and you had been friends for years, having met at the first award show you ever attended some five years ago. You had dated for a brief period of time—before Shawn—but decided that you worked better as friends and mutually called it quits.

Despite everything that had happened between you two, he was still a close friend, and a welcome sight.

“Oh my god,” you laughed, pulling away and making a show of looking him up and down. “Have you gotten larger?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, laughing along with you, his Australian accent music to your ears. “How have you been? It’s been, what, a year since we last saw each other?”

“Yeah, because someone was busy on a world tour,” you joked.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, my mistake, it won’t happen again. I’ll henceforth be at your beck and call, milady,” he said with a bow.

You laughed and hugged him again, having missed your friend.

It was at that very moment Jungkook rejoined the group, but you were too busy hugging your ex-boyfriend to notice the way his face fell, or the second glass of alcohol in his hand that was meant for you.

Jin wordlessly took the cup from him, knowing exactly who it was for, and trying to mitigate the awkwardness that would ensue, his heart hurting a little for the younger boy.

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JUNGKOOK’S POV

Jungkook felt like such an idiot.

He watched carefully, noticing the way you instantly gravitated towards Luke and your willingness to put your hands all over the broad expanse of his chest.

He noted your smile and the way your eyes lit up when looking at him.

Jungkook knew a little bit about your past relationship, having actually seen you two together back when you and Luke were dating.

It had been brief, you were at the same award show and hardly had time to chat; especially when you had been attached to Luke’s side, unable to take your eyes off of him for more than a few seconds. Jungkook, much like everyone else in a twenty-yard radius, had seen the young love reflected in both of your faces, seen the way you two acted like you were alone; like the only other person in the room that mattered was each other.

His heart had hurt then, but it was breaking now.  

Something in his chest fractured completely to see Luke throw a long arm around you and steer you away, stealing you from his little group.

His vision went red with rage, his body on fire with the anger coursing through his veins.

He had so desperately and foolishly hoped that tonight you could be his, that you wouldn’t abandon him to the finely dressed wolves that circled around him.

But just as quickly as that anger appeared it was gone, leaving a vacuous pit in its wake.

Jungkook realized just how alone he felt.

How scared he was of the black hole inside him that threatened to swallow everything he was and everything he promised to be.

But even that chronic fear paled in comparison to the fear he felt watching you walk away with another man, and what that might mean about his own inadequacies.  

He downed his drink in one gulp, then grabbed the drink from Jin’s hands and downed that too. He was distantly aware of the burn in the back of his throat, but he didn’t care. He deserved it.

The older boy looked at him with concern, placing a slender hand on his arm, only for Jungkook to shrug it off.

“Jungkook-“

“I’m fine,” he snapped, staring after you and Luke for a moment. “I just need another drink.”

And with that he stalked off towards the bar, ready to forget the broken feeling inside him.

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YOUR POV

Sometimes you forgot how well you could drink until you were in a room with people who couldn’t.

You had gone to college at a party school. You were quite accustomed to going to raging parties on the weekend and getting trashed with your friends, and then on weekdays drinking wine by the bottle and watching trashy reality television. So needless to say, after years of drinking the way you did, it would take a lot more than some shots and a few cocktails to get you anywhere near drunk.

The same could not be said for Jungkook.

After several hours of drinking he had downed several vodka cranberries and a handful of jello shots, and it did not sit well with him. Jimin and Namjoon had stuffed him into an Uber and took him home not too long before you decided to depart as well.

You got home around 3AM, opening your front door wearily with your heels in your hand.

You went upstairs and crept into your room, taking your time getting ready for bed and drinking water.

As you got into bed, your movements apparently jostled Jungkook enough to wake him up and the next thing you know he’s sitting up in bed running a hand through his raven hair. He looked like hell.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He shook his head, his hair falling into his face. “T’s okay. I wasnt ‘sleep anyway. Mm not supposed to mix alcohol with my pain meds. Oops, I guess. Now I don’t feel good.”

You glared at him, panic settling into your chest. “Jungkook, that stuff is really dangerous. Why would you do that?”

He flopped back onto his pillows and looked up at you with wide brown eyes. “How’s your night with Luke? I figured you would’ve stayed at his place or something.”

You gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

He blinked up at you, his expression foreign. “Saw you walk off with him, and I saw the way you looked at him so I figured…”

Annoyance flashed through you. “Well, you thought wrong. I hung out with him and his band mates for a bit, and when I found you guys again, they said you got too drunk and they had had to take you home.”

He had the good sense to look sheepish at your tone. “Oh,” he said meekly. “Sorry.”

You said nothing as you settled into bed, letting the annoyance radiate off of you. He had absolutely no right to assume that about you and Luke… but did that mean that he was jealous?

“You guys just have good chemistry is all…” Jungkook slurred. “And you looked really happy with him, so…”

“Yeah,” you snapped. “We’re friends.”

“Are we friends?” he asked suddenly, turning to stare at you with wide eyes illuminated by the moonlight. You could smell the alcohol still on his breath, or maybe that was your own. You couldn’t tell.

Your anger began to dissipate the longer you stared at him, taking in the sharp cuts of his face and the way the gentle starlight reflected off his skin.

“Duh,” you finally said, gesturing to him. “You’re sleeping in my bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning over to stare at the ceiling. “I guess I am.”

You marveled at the way his raven hair contrasted his golden skin, resisting a strong desire to reach out and see if it was as soft as it looked.

“Sometimes,” he began slowly, like he was choosing his next words very carefully. “It doesn’t feel like we’re friends.”

Anxiety began churning in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

He began frantically shaking his head. “No, never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Jungkook, please, if I’ve done something wrong please tell me so I can fix it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as the guilt and panic rushed through you over something you didn’t even know you did.

He sighed deeply, searching for his next words.

“T’s just that we have such different lives, and sometimes I don’t know if I fit in yours all the way. And it scares me.”

Your heart dropped. You hated that you made him feel this way.

“I…” you stammered, desperately trying to find the words. “You do fit into my life, Jungkook. You fit perfectly.”

“You promise?”

You smiled at him. “I pinky promise.”

His only response was a hiccup and a soft smile.

A loose piece of hair found its way into his face and his solution was to blow it away, only to have it fall right back where it was.

He looked so adorable, so carefree in this moment you wanted to treasure it forever. He looked so much like the Jungkook you had known the last time you were in Korea: the shy but powerful and goofy Golden Boy that could light up a room with his laugh. This was the first time you’d caught a glimpse of him this entire trip.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out a hand and lightly brushed the hair from his face. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way your heart longed for him to be content like this more often, or maybe it was both, but you ran your hand through his soft hair and let it drop down to his face, cupping his cheek. His skin burned beneath your touch. He only hummed in response and leaned into your palm.

“Mm tired,” he murmured.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, I bet. Go to sleep, Kook. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As you took your hand away, he suddenly grabbed it, his eyes snapping open to reveal panic. “No, wait,” he begged. “Will you hold me?”

You froze, unable to let yourself process what he just said.

“I don’t feel good,” he continued, “and I just want someone to hold me and give me banana milk.”

The pout in his voice roused you back to reality. “I’m afraid we’re fresh out of banana milk but I can provide the cuddling. Come here.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooted towards you until he was close enough to rest his head on your chest and entwine his arms around your body.

“You’re warm,” he murmured into your neck.

You hummed in response.

It was… nice to be held like this, to be needed. It had been a while since the last time you’d been with someone and you realized how much you missed this closeness.

You absentmindedly began playing with his hair, something he clearly enjoyed as he snuggled closer to you.

“I missed you,” Jungkook said quietly.

Heat bloomed in your chest. “I missed you, too, Kook,” you replied, resting your cheek on the crown of his head and closing your eyes with a sigh.

Within minutes you were both sound asleep.

[13dead-ends]

Chapter 7 - Halloween

Chapter 7 of Blood Bound

Henry Cavill x Named OC

Summary: Nina has a lot to think about since her birthday and there’s a company Halloween party coming up.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: lots of kissing (YAY), mention wooden stakes, alcohol

A/N: So sorry this took me forever, but it’s here and just in time for Halloween! I’m pretty sure this was edited at some point but there still might be hiccups. (Also this is the outfit Nina’s costume is based on) @hellcaster901​ thanks for reading all my stuff first Ilysm. I hope you like it!

Henry walked me up to my door. He took me home, since he had to leave early tomorrow morning. I didn’t want to leave, though. “Nice ruse by the way.” I chuckled. “Luring me with your dog.”

“I knew it would work.” He nudged me. My doorway came closer and closer and we were in front of it way sooner than I would’ve liked. We stood in front of it face to face.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” I smiled up at him. “It was really nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wish I could’ve done more for your birthday though.” I shook my head.

“No this was perfect. Seriously.” I stood on my tip toes to give him a big hug. He hugged me back so tightly, I almost couldn’t breath. As I pulled back, I looked at him. His hands were holding my waist so I couldn’t step back. His blue eyes were filled with something I didn’t recognize. I blinked and he was looking at my lips. My chest brushed against his as he looked back up. Something like electricity ran through me and I pushed myself up on my toes and kissed him. He only paused for a moment and then he pulled me in, his grip on my waist tighter. I held his cheeks in my hands and felt a little stubble. Henry leaned in more and I ran my fingers through his hair. I was tingling all over and goosebumps rose on my skin. I smiled into him, but he pulled away, my chin following him for a second.  He stared at me for a second and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I love it when you blush.” He whispered; I hadn’t even noticed how hot my cheeks had gotten. I giggled and let my feet drop to the ground again. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” My voice wouldn’t raise louder than a whisper.

“Goodnight, Nina.” Henry kissed my forehead. “And happy birthday.” He walked away and I went inside. I shut the door and a giant grin spread on my face. I listened for the elevator, part of me wanting to go back out there and drag him back. I still felt the pressure of his lips on mine. My heart was racing a mile a minute as I walked to my bedroom to squeal into my pillow. I flipped over and grabbed my phone, dialing Irene’s number to FaceTime.

“Nina, isn’t it late there?”

“Irene! I have to tell you something.” She furrowed her brows.

“What?”

“I kissed Henry.”

“YOU WHAT?” She screeched. I laughed out loud. “Tell me everything right now.”

“Well first, he surprised me for my birthday. He cooked me dinner!” She sighed.

“Oh, that’s so cute. So romantic.” I grinned, feeling like a teenager.

“And it was great except when my mom called.” She shook her head, eyes big.

“Wait what? If that bitch said something- “

“I think she just wanted to say happy birthday.” I rubbed my temple. “So, it wasn’t bad at first.”

“Just out of the blue calls you? Did she last year?”

“Nope. I don’t know why.” I huffed. “She just shut me down as soon as I brought up my job.” Irene rolled her eyes.

“Fuck her, anyways, get to the kiss!” I laughed. “Seriously do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head.

“It wasn’t anything different from what I used to. Besides I had someone to cheer me up.” She giggled. “So, we ate and talked, and it was just amazing, and you know he’s a bigger dork than I thought. He told me- “

“Not that I don’t care about the dinner, but I really need to hear about you kissing Henry fucking Cavill.” I laughed.

“Alright fine!” I took a breath. “He took me home and walked me to my door.” She moved the phone closer to her face. “He hugged me, and I just kissed him!”

“You did?” I rolled my eyes.

“Yes! Is that so hard to believe?” Irene shrugged. “Anyway, afterwards he told me he likes when I blush and then he had to go.” I sighed like a middle school girl. “Irene, I haven’t been this excited about a guy since college.” She laughed.

“Haha remember when you tried to date that film student?”

“Oh, shut up.” We talked all night. I think I fell asleep on the phone. I woke up around ten the next day. Despite it being fall, the sun shone in my window and brightened my room. I inhaled a deep breath in and smiled. I did my normal routine with more pep than usual, I had nothing planned today, but my cheerful mood made me want to get up and do something. I should work on my article since I had all this energy. I got my laptop and set up on my kitchen island.

Hours later and I was nodding my head to the music playing in my speaker and typing sentence after sentence. I was in a groove and it was always the best time to write. Though when I wrote real accounts from donors I had interviewed over DMs and phone calls it damped the mood. People were scared. People just like me. A poor college freshman wouldn’t even talk to me even though I promised she’d remain anonymous. She was terrified of someone finding her out. I shook my head as I typed an interview with a donor from my own company.

Of course, I was scared. I’m still scared. I feel like I’m next or something.

I shuddered knowing the feeling all too well. I felt like I was just waiting for Positive to get hit of something. I sighed and continued to write, copying things from my research. I don’t know how long it had been, but soon I was sending in my draft to my editor. It was in her hands for a while at least. I leaned back, shutting my laptop down, then my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Nina? Hey are you busy?” It was Penny.

“No, I’m not. What’s up?” I sat up again, wondering why she was calling me.

“Well, you see, Henry had a hard day on set today.” I furrowed my brows. “Lots more retakes than expected and he’s a bit…” we hadn’t fed last night, or the time I saw him before that. I stood.

“Is he okay? I can come down there.” I went to my room to change into warmer clothes.

“He’s sleeping now, but would it be okay if I come get you? I’m worried about him.” I chewed on my cheek.

“Of course. I’ll be ready when you get here.”

 It was dark in Henry’s trailer, curtains shut and barely any light shone inside. I stepped in as quietly as I can, but he’d wake up anyways. I shut the door and set my bag down. He wasn’t on the couch, so I went to the door to the bedroom, opening it a little.

“Henry?” I whispered. He was a lump on the bed, not moving at all.

“Nina? What are you doing here?” He sounded tired. I’ve never really seen him get this way.

“Penny came and got me.” I sat down next to his legs, his eyes were still closed and without my brain telling them to, my fingers brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Why didn’t you feed last night?” I kept my hand in his hair when he smiled a little.

“It was your birthday.” He just mumbled.

“I know, but now look at you.” I sighed. “Come on, take some blood and then you can finish your nap.” His eyes opened and they were duller than normal.

“Do you want to stay with me after?”

“Sure,” I smiled at him. He sat up and took my wrist, quicker and tighter than before.

“You’ve eaten enough today?” I nodded but he was already pulling my wrist up to his mouth. He didn’t ease into it this time and I sucked in air as he pierced my skin. I relaxed at the familiar feeling. My body got hot and I gripped the blankets. I chewed on my lip to hold in any noises I could make. He took more than usual, and I felt fuzzy and tingly all of a sudden. Then as his fangs left my skin, he trailed kissed up my arm, making me giggle.

“You’re so warm.” He mumbled as he got up to my shoulder. “You were warm last night when I dropped you off too.” My cheeks were hot as his lip met my bare neck. “I liked kissing you.”

“Henry,” it sounded breathless and before I could get another word out, he kissed my lips. My eyes shut and I let my hands wrap around his shoulders. His lips were just as delicious as last night, this time with a taste of my blood on them. He grabbed my waist and leaned back, taking me with him. I couldn’t breath as he straddled my legs over his stomach, my hair curtained over our faces. He kissed me again and I put my hands on his hard chest. This was better than any dream, but the extra blood he took was making me sleepy and I knew he’d still need time to rest. He wasn’t showing any sign of stopping and I really didn’t want to, but I pulled back a little. Our lips barely apart. “Henry, you need to rest.” He held my face in both of his hands and pulled me back for one more kiss and then pulled away. I looked at him with a small smile. It was nice to know that this affected him like it affect me. My cheeks were still flushed so I pressed my face into his neck. He looped his arms around my back and forced me to lay on top of him completely.

“Thank you for coming.” He sighed.

“Of course, just don’t wait so long in between.” I mumbled. It was quiet and I almost fell asleep like that, but he moved us, so I was laying beside him on the bed, I pushed my legs under the blankets, and he pulled me to his chest.

“I won’t.” He sighed and held me tight. I relaxed and let my eyes shut. I don’t know how long we were asleep when I woke up, still feeling the effects of blood loss so it can’t be that long, but Henry was mumbling incoherently. I sat up on my elbows, and watched as his brow scrunched and relaxed, then again. Was he having a nightmare? Do vampires even dream? I reached out to wake him, but he stopped suddenly, relaxing into a deeper sleep. I waited for him to start getting restless, but he didn’t so I just scooter closer to him, throwing and arm over his waist.

 “Wake up dear,” I open my eyes and Henry was smiling over me. “How did you sleep?” He trailed his fingers over my cheek.

“Good.” I smiled, stretching my arms. Henry had a hand over my stomach, his pinky right where my shirt had moved up to expose skin. “What about you?” I asked, thinking about his dream or whatever that was.

“Great, really great.” He shifted so we could sit up. I was surprised by the answer, but glad. Maybe he forgot his dreams. “It’s time to get you home.”

“What time is it?” I rubbed my eyes and tried running a hand through my messy hair.

“It’s almost five.” He brushed some hair back as it fell into my face again and sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you so sleepy.”

“It’s okay, it was nice to nap with you.” He chuckled, giving me a side hug.

“You too.” He helped me out of bed and kept my hand in his as we walked back out. “I’ll take you home.”

“Do you have any more filming?” He got my bag and I took it slinging it over my shoulder.

“No, I’m going home for the night. I’m still pretty worn out.” I frowned. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep it off tonight. That’s why I’m not taking you home with me.” My stomach filled with butterflies.

“Why? You think we’d be up all night?” I cocked an eyebrow and he smirked at me.

“Careful, love.” He left it at that and opened the trailer door. I chewed on my lip and followed him out. He took my hand again as I stepped down and we walked to his car. We drove to my place, his hand on my thigh and I leaned towards him instead of towards the window. When we walked to my door, we said goodbye, but when I waited for a kiss Henry started to walk away. I almost accepted it, but instead I cleared my throat. He stopped and turned around, cute smirk on his face. “What?” He slowly stepped back towards me and I shrugged, pout on my lips.

“I don’t know, I just thought-“He laughed.

“Don’t be shy, now. Say it.” I looked down as he stood in front of me.

“I wanted a kiss goodbye.” He lifted my chin up as I said, and he kissed my lips. It was softer this time and I grabbed his wrist, wanting more.

“There.” He smiled against my lips. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.” He walked away and I opened my door in a warm haze. I felt light and fluttery. Like I was about to lift of the earth like a leaf off a tree. I floated to my couch and flopped on to it. I sighed and checked it. It was from my editor.

Nina,

The article so far is amazing. I want to call you as soon as possible to work out some kinks. With all the riots going on this is really going to shed some light on the situation. It got me thinking about doing a weekly segment about the donor life with you. I know you’re one of our freelancers, but I really think it would be a good opportunity for the both of us.

Email me back during my office hours!

I smiled. That sounded like a fantastic idea. It also gave me a chance to write about something more lighthearted than all these riots. It was nice to know she liked my work enough to ask. Maybe I should interview Abbey and James for an article. I could even do a series of interviews with different donors. I grinned; I hadn’t felt this inspired in a while. One date with Henry and I’m-

Wait a second.

Did he ever say it was a date? It was dinner and he took me home, and he kissed me goodnight. That ticks all the boxes. Except the one where he told me it was a date. I dropped my phone on my stomach and stared at the ceiling. It had to be a date. This is just my brain’s stupid need for verbal confirmation. He never said anything today either. I huffed.

“For fuck’s sake.” I muttered, pressing the heels of my hands in my eyes. My brain was turning over the conversations we had in the last 24 hours. No dates were mentioned. There was a lot more kissing than usual, at least if it wasn’t a date, I had that. It had to be a date, right?

I groaned and sat up. Id make something to eat, watch a show until I fall asleep. I’d worry about it tomorrow. I was aggressively stabbing pasta as a crime documentary played on my TV in half an hour and I still hadn’t stopped thinking about Henry. I almost felt mad at my anxiety. It wouldn’t shut up. I don’t think I’d get any sleep tonight.

 I tossed and turned all night. It was next to impossible to fall asleep and even if I did, I got a an hour in at the most and that wasn’t even worth it. I woke up feeling groggy and tired. Even a small headache in my temples pulsed when I thought about Henry too much. I did text him a good morning though, which he hasn’t replied to. I rolled my eyes and ignored my twitching fingers instead of checking my phone again. I emailed my editor back and we chatted back and forth brainstorming some ideas for the article. It was exciting and kept my mind off my predicament, but as soon as she logged off, I was back to worrying. I drummed my fingers on my closed laptop as I stared at the wall in front of me. I decided to call Abbey to see if she wanted to hang out. She’d keep my mind off it. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

“Nina, hi! What’s up?”

“Hey, Abbey! Are you busy today?”

“I was going to look for a Halloween costume for the company party, actually.” I furrowed my brows.

“The company has a Halloween party?” I hadn’t heard about any party. If there was a party, I’d need a costume too.

“Yeah? Don’t you check your emails?” She laughed. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Yes, I’d love too!” Thank god. That’ll keep my occupied. She told me what time to be ready and I hung up and started getting my things together. Soon enough I was at a Halloween store staring at a slutty nurse costume.

“Please don’t be that.” Abbey laughed and I dropped the costume back on the rack.

“I won’t,” We moved onto the next isle. She had caught me up on all her shenanigans. She had picked up another client. How she handled more than one, I had no idea. It was quiet now; I’m waiting for her to ask-

“How’s Henry?” She didn’t look up at me, just looked over a Maleficent costume. My brain on the other hand was searching for an answer.

“He’s good. Still filming so I don’t see him quite as much.” He replied to my text from earlier, but that was it for today.

“That’s the issue with actors, but I’m sure Henry treats you really well.” I nodded.

“He does.” I picked up a witch hat, maybe I could just be a witch this year. “Abbey have you dated a client before?” She turned around; perfect brown raised.

“Once, why? Are you trying to date Henry?” She nudged me and my cheeks flared up.

“I don’t know.” Yes. “I just don’t know what to do, I guess.”

“Well, what happened? You have to give me something else.”

“He made me dinner for my birthday.” She smiled. “And we’ve been kissing.”

“Kissing?” She laughed.

“A little.”

“I fucking knew you couldn’t resist. Tell me everything.” I explained the night to her, and she ate it up. “That sounds amazing! He sounds amazing. What’s the issue?”

“He never said it was a date or anything. We’ve just kissed, been a little flirtier.” I shrugged and she sighed.

“I would just ask him if you’re not sure, but I’m pretty sure he’s trying to woo you.” She linked her arm with mine. “Don’t worry about it until you see him next. You both should take a second to figure out what kissing means for you both.” I nodded. “Come on, I’m not finding anything here.” We went to another store Abbey knew of and she found a cute fairy costume that she looked adorable in. I still didn’t think of anything, so we had lunch and we went home.

At home I was back to turning conversations over in my head and trying not to worry that Henry still hadn’t texted me. I rolled my eyes just worry when you see him next. Just like Abbey said. This was a problem for future Nina, present Nina still needs to think of a costume. I went to my TV and decided to flip through channels. Maybe I could get ideas there. I caught the end of one of the Harry Potter movies and thought of the witch idea again. Maybe a specific witch like Hermione or Bellatrix even. I huffed as the credits rolled. I went back to channel surfing until I saw that a Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on. I immediately put it on. One of my all-time favorite shows. As the familiar characters appeared on the TV, I got an idea.

The next time I saw Henry it was early one morning a few days later. Penny had taken me to the studio again, it was a big day for shooting, and he wanted to be sure he won’t end up like last time. As we got to the trailer, I felt all the anxiety bubble up again and I almost didn’t want to go in. It was going to be quick. Penny was waiting for me since Henry would have to go straight to makeup afterwards. I took a deep breath as I opened the door. He was standing in the middle of the floor, holding a script.

“Hi,” I smiled at him as he looked over at me.

“Hey, Nina.” His brow was furrowed as he looked at his script. “Good morning, sorry it’s so early by the way.” He looked up at me for a second, giving me a smile.

“It’s fine. How’s it going?” I went over to the couch to sit down and chewed on my lip.

“Okay, I’ve been having trouble with my lines.” I sighed, wishing he’d look away from the script again.

“I’m sorry, that’s never good.” Part of me wanted to run away from the anxiety, another wanted to smooth the crease in his forehead.

“It’s okay.” He set the papers down and came over to me. “How are you?” I shrugged.

“Good, my new articles doing well.” He sat next to me. Picking up my hand. I wish I could stay with him, that we weren’t doing this so quick today.

“I’m not surprised. It’s really good writing.”

“Thanks, I’m glad people are liking it.” He held my wrist up and I held my breath. He drank and I still felt all the same feelings, but they were dampened by my anxious mood and how distracted Henry seemed.

“Thank you, dear.” He kissed the back of my hand and I remembered how he kissed up my arm last time I was in here.

“You’re welcome.” We stood and he led me back out.

“I hate kicking you out so fast.” He opened the door.

“It’s okay, I have to finish my costume today.” I shrugged, but didn’t look at him, as I stepped out

“Oh? What are you going be?”

“You’ll see, at the company party.” He shook his head.

“Alright, I’ll see you then?” I nodded.

“See you Henry.” As the trailer door shut my fists clenched and I tried to avoid thinking about the awkwardness of that. God, he was probably having a normal day until I came and made it weird. I scratched my head as I sat next to Penny.

“You okay?” Penny titled her head at me.

“Yeah, just tired.” She didn’t press the issue as we went back to the car. She filled the silence with a little rant about a Love Island contestant. She had been trying to convince me to watch it for a while now. When I got home, I texted Abbey to come over. She had the perfect white heels for my costume. After that I’d have the entire outfit. I had hyper-fixated on the Buffy ensemble to keep my mind off the anxiety over Henry. Not that it really worked.

I opened my door and saw the long white dress hanging over by the window. I was going be Buffy before her first fight with The Master. I’d have to rewatch that episode sometime. I had the perfect leather jacket to wear over it, and a wooden stake I got at a Halloween store. I smiled and went to my room. A little while later Abbey was walking in my door and running toward the dress.

“Oh my god, the heels are going to be perfect with this. Remind me who Buffy is again?” She felt the fabric in her fingers as I shut my door.

“She’s a vampire slayer. She has superpowers and is destined to protect the world from evil.” She chuckled.

“I’m going to have to watch this show.” She set her bag down and pulled out the white heels, with a rounded toe and modestly high heel.

“It’s one of the best shows I’ve ever watched.” I went over to her and grabbed the shoes. “Thank you for letting me borrow these.”

“Of course, as long as you hold up your end of the deal.” I had told her that the heels were the only thing I needed, and she wanted to see the whole outfit together when she came here.

“I will, pass me the dress.” She clapped her hands and then gave me the dress. I changed quickly in my room. “Abbey come zip me up.” She came in and gasped.

“Nina! You look so pretty!” I rolled my eyes.

“You haven’t even seen the front.” She came zipped the back closed and I turned around.

“No, you’re still pretty.” I sat on the bed and put on the heels. It gave me just enough height to pick the dress up off the ground. I threw on the jacket and Abbey squealed. “I love it! You look so good!”

“Thanks.” I picked up the stake of my bed. “You don’t think it’s too much to come to the party as a vampire slayer?” She laughed, adjusting the jacket for me.

“No, I’m pretty sure there were two Dracula’s last year and one of them was an actual vampire.” I burst out laughing.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think people will love it. Plus, you’ll probably be the only one who’s dressed like Buffy.” I went over to the mirror and looked at myself. It was really close to the original. People who’ve seen the show will definitely recognize it. “Do you think those stakes work?” We laughed at each other.

 I stepped onto the concrete after James. He was dressed as the devil, which for him meant a blood red suit and little horns glued to his forehead. He looked amazing. Abbey was in front of him, flowery skirt flowing behind her, wings shimmering on her back. I adjusted my jacket and followed them to the same hotel the previous party was at. This time it was covered in skeletons and spiderwebs. Very spooky and not as elegant as before. I grinned as I followed my friends to the ballroom. Inside it was open, just a bar and a dance floor.

“This is more of a rave kind of party.” Abbey linked our arms, a little of her glitter getting on me. “You can get way drunker at the Halloween party than anniversary dinners.” I laughed.

“If you say so, but you may have to take the pointy piece of wood from me after a few drinks.” They both laughed.

“Come on were starting with shots.” James grabbed my wrist and pulled us along. We went so fast I couldn’t search the crowd for those blue eyes. The bar was decorated like a witch’s kitchen, bubbling cauldrons and spiders hiding in corners. James picked out some green Halloween themed shot and we all drank. It was sweet as it hit my tongue. “Abbey you look too innocent to be drinking.” I laughed and Abbey adjusted her flower crown.

“Well you know I’m not, Nina’s the one in all white.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m a character in a show. I didn’t have a choice in the color.” I nudged her. “Besides we all look great either way.”

“Speaking of, let’s take some pictures.” Abbey pulled us over to one of the little decorated walls. She caught one of her friends, dressed as Cinderella, to take some for us. As we tried different poses, I felt someone watching. As James and Abbey planned a new position I looked around, seeing Henry leaning on the bar watching us. He was just in a rugby jersey and jeans. Effortlessly handsome somehow.

“Nina, pretend to stab James with your stake.” I chuckled but did as they said and then finally, they were satisfied with the photos. I made sure they sent them to me and excused myself to go to Henry.

“So, you just show up with one of my only weaknesses?” I stood in front of him with the piece of wood at my side.

“I’m Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s kind of her signature weapon.” I held it up. “Why? You scared I’m gonna use it?” He smirked at me, with one eyebrow raised.

“Should I be?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, tapping his chest with the blunt end of the stake. “What are you supposed to be?” I leaned back crossing my arms.

“A rugby player!” He pointed to the jersey. “I didn’t have a lot of time to find a proper costume.” I laughed

“It’s okay, you get to dress up for a living anyways.” He shrugged.

“Would you like a drink?” I nodded. As the bartender handed us our drinks Abbey called us over. We went to a tall table where my friends and few others stood.

“Henry, this is Abbey and James.” I introduced them.

“Yes, I saw you both at the anniversary dinner.” Henry shook James hand, and then Abbeys. “You both look great.” He smiled, and Abbey looked like she was going to faint.

“Thank you!” James nudged her and I giggled.

“Yes, thank you!” Abbey snapped out of her. I sipped my drink, feeling warmer already. “Nina,” Abbey pulled over a blonde girl dressed as Alice from Alice in Wonderland. “This is my friend…” We got some introductions out of the way and soon we were listening to James tell a story about last years party. I was invested until I caught a flash of red hair coming through the doors. I gritted my teeth. I knew Henry and I were on the same page when it came to her, but she would always rub me the wrong way now. Maybe after her last attempt at getting him as a client would put her off for tonight.

“So here I am, dressed as a Ken doll in the middle of the hotel hallway-“Lila unfortunately walked up to the table, and just happened to take the spot on the other side of Henry. She was dressed as Ariel, the scene at the end with her light purple dress. She really took advantage of the red hair.

“Okay, we have the devil, a fairy,” she listed off costumes and I knew what was coming. “A very handsome rugby player, and- “

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Abbey and Henry both said. I couldn’t help but smile, squeezing Abbeys arm under the table.

“Oh, never heard of her.” I didn’t hold back the eye roll. James finished his story, making us laugh even more. “So, Henry I heard you’re filming again.” She turned to him and touched his arm. I groaned internally. She had heard that from me.

“Yeah, I am. It’s been good to get back to work.” I felt my phone buzz as they continue their conversation. It was a text from Abbey.

I’ll tell her to fuck off. Just say the word.

No, it’s fine.

I chewed on my lip as Henry told a story about Kal, making everyone laugh. Lilas was the loudest. A little obnoxious too. “He’s just so big and has no idea.”

“Every time I see him, he almost knocks me over.” I added and Abbey and James chuckle, and unsurprisingly Lila didn’t.

“Kal loves you too much to hold back.” Henry stepped closer to me and away from her.

“It’s good you have him to keep you company.” Lila tried moving the focus off me, but Henry had other plans.

“Nina comes and visits me a lot too.” Henry grabbed my waist and pulled me to his side. Lilas lips dropped out of the smirk. “It’s nice filming so close by.”

“I’m sure it is.” Lila smiled again but it was forced.

“I got to repay her with dinner the other night as well.” He squeezed me even tighter.

“Yeah, he surprised me for my birthday. It was really sweet.” I hugged his waist.

“Well aren’t you two adorable.” She covered it well, but there was a sneer in there. I felt a little pride as Henry rubbed my back.

“Nina, come on we’re dancing.” Abbey interrupted.

“Henry?” I grabbed his wrist as Abbey started pulling me away. He sighed but let me pull him with me. We made it to the middle of the floor with everyone. It had gotten crowded as we spoke. When we found a spot open enough for all of us, Henry grabbed my waist and pulled my back to his chest.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” He said in my ear over the music. He wrapped his arms over me and I swayed us to the beat a little. “I just didn’t want to be alone with the Little Mermaid.”

“More like sea witch.” James rolled his eyes. “But as long as your all over each other she’ll back off.” James winked at us and then pulled me over to dance with him. We danced for a few songs and then Abbey decided it was time for more shots. I was getting a little buzz now and I wanted to dance with Henry some more.

“Nina,” His voice sent tingles down my spine. “I’ll be right back okay. Go dance, I’ll find you soon.” He kissed my cheek as he walked from the bar.

“Nina, Nina, Nina.” James clicked his tongue when Henry was out of sight. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“James they’re making out like teenagers when they’re alone.” Abbey, now a tipsy fairy, jumped up and down.

“Wait you know this? Why haven’t you told me?” James held his chest and I laughed.

“I haven’t even seen you since it happened, and both of you shut up, he might still hear you.” They both shook their heads.

“I don’t even care if he hears. That is one fine specimen of the male species.” James leaned back on the bar. My neck and cheeks felt hot. “You’re telling me every detail.”

“Fine I will, but just not now.” He huffed but nodded. We went back out to dance and I got another drink. I knew I was getting tipsy as I started dancing with more feeling. Abbey and I danced together, laughing at our ridiculous moves. I felt those same pair of eyes watching again and I turned around, finding Henry leaning against our table, watching from afar again. I moved my hips a little more smirking at him. Feeling more confident than normal.  Henry didn’t come back to dance, but his eyes stayed on me.

“Girl, you are most definitely getting railed tonight if you want.” Abbey whispered in my ear and I almost choked on air. Instead we burst out laughing, our drunk giggles mixing with the music.

“Shut up, Abbey.” She bumped our hips together.

“Ugh stop being so modest. You know you want to.” I was laughing again, but I wanted to strangle her.

“I never said I didn’t, but-“James and Abbey screamed with smiles on their faces. “You guys are acting like you’re sixteen.”

“Uh, you can’t hold me responsible for how I act after shots.” James said and pulled be over to him to dance. They finally gave me a chance to pull away, my feet throbbing. The heels were killing me. I went straight to Henry, tripping a little, but he caught me, keeping his hands on my waist.

“Hi,” I smiled up at him.

“Hi,” He smiled back. “Looks like You’re having fun.”

“Yeah, are you?” I poked his chest and let my hand rest flat on it.

“Yes, I am.”

“I can feel you staring from over there.” I leaned in closer, my jacket brushing against him.

“Can you?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re something else in this dress.” He squeezed my waist, and it felt like electricity was coming from his hands. “I could just- “

“Nina, there you are.” Abbeys voice came from behind me. I rolled my eyes for only Henry to see and he smirked, turning me around to face my friend. “Come to the bathroom with me, please?” She grabbed my hand and I let her pull me away from Henry.

“Oh my god, Henry has googly eyes for you.” Abbey and I both were in a stall, the only two girls in here for now.

“I’m the one with googly eyes. He didn’t even try and I’m drooling.” She snorted.

“He does look good in that jersey.” We heard the door open and we held back giggles to try and keep quiet. We went back out and checked our makeup in the mirrors. “Do I need more glitter?” Abbey touched her glittery cheek.

“No, you definitely don’t.” I laughed.

“Are you going home with Henry?” She turned to me as I fixed a piece of hair. I swallowed, the thought making me nervous.

“I don’t know. I’m too tipsy to think that far a head.” She nodded.

“Yeah true, but it’s totally obvious he wants you to go home with him.”

“God, he just makes me so nervous.” I shook my hands. “It’s so embarrassing! He’s so hot he’s hurting my feelings.” Abbey burst out laughing as the other girl in here came out. She gave us a weird look as we laughed together. We finally came back out and I almost bee lined for Henry. He was chatting with James at the table.

“You bitches left me.” James crossed his arms. “Come back and dance!” Abbey nodded smiling, but I leaned into Henry’s side.

“I need a break you guys go.” They sighed but didn’t push it. When they were gone, I turned to face Henry completely. “What were you saying before? You could just what?” I smirked.

“What has gotten into you?” Henry raised an eyebrow at me.

“Shots.” I giggled. “And being Buffy really gives me confidence.” He chuckled.

“Have you always liked the show?”

“Yeah, my grandma loved it and we’d watch together.” I grinned. “It’s feminist and bad ass and so 90s.” I rambled. “I think everyone should watch it.”

“I’ll have to watch it sometime.”

“Please do! And tell me what you think.” He nodded, smiling at me. “How do you play rugby?” I tugged on his jersey.

“Well, that’s a long answer.” I laughed and he tried to explain the basics, but it was more complicated than I thought.

“Okay, I’m not going to lie. I don’t think I processed any of that properly.” He shook his head.

“Maybe one of these days we can watch a game together.” I nodded.

“Sure!” Henry decided to get more drinks, leaving me at the table. I rested my elbows on it and my chin on my hands. I was debating taking my heels off when James and Abbey came back.

“Hey, how’s dancing?” I smiled at them.

“Fun, except James stepped on my toe.” Abbey’s cheeks were pink. I laughed as they teased each other. “Where’s Henry?”

“Getting drinks.”

“Oh fuck,” James looked passed me, over my shoulder. “Does that bitch not know when to stop?” I turned around and saw Henry standing at the bar, Lila standing next to him. I turned to face my friends; my lips pressed together.

“She’s infuriating.” My eyes went into the back of my head. “Do stakes kill mermaids too?” I stared at the abandoned wood on the table. I looked over my shoulder again just in time to see her rub his back. He stepped away, but that was it. “I’ll be right back.” James and Abbey were cheering for me as I walked over there, heels clicking. She picked the wrong night to act like this. I was drunk and jealous. When I reached them, the bartender was setting drinks down in front of Henry.

“Lila, I appreciate the offer, but I’m- speak of the devil.” Without looking Henry pulled me the rest of the way to him. “I’m Nina’s client and I’m not looking for more than one donor.”

“Besides Lila, you could probably have any client here.” I smiled at her as Henry slotted me in between them. “Don’t make it so hard on yourself going for someone who already has a donor.” I grabbed my drink and Henry grabbed his. “See you around.” I grabbed Henry’s hand and pulled him away from the bar.

“What happened to my timid Nina?” Henry teased. “Jealously changed you.”

“Shut up.” He laughed out loud at me as we walked. “I just don’t like her.”

“Neither do I.” I grinned at that, but before I could take him back to the table, he pulled me back, turning me around into his chest. “In fact, I don’t want to be in the same room as her.” I furrowed my brows. “Let’s leave.” My breath hitched in my throat as I stared at him.

~~~

Taglist:

@xxxkatxo​ @omgkatinka​ @thereisa8ella​ @lamthetwickster​ @thatgirly81​ @vikingsbifrost​

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Twelve - Spring Break Forever

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: The Pogues spend Spring break in Miami Beach

Warnings: Light smut, cursing, pranks, drugs, alcohol, tattoos and piercings?

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in a few days. I was camping this weekend with my family, which went downhill. Sorry if this one feels a little rushed. I hope you guys like it! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own any of the shows or characters.) 

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

I’ve been to many places on vacation. Malibu, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Houston, Manhattan, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, Seattle, Orlando, Los Angeles and more. All of those were with my family for business, but I never had much fun. This time though, I’m going to Miami with the coolest people on the fucking planet.

The road trip has consisted in us playing card games in the back, switching drivers, telling stories, and stopping to eat at diners. As of now, we’re on 95 in Florida, not too far from our destination. JJ’s head lays on my chest, fast asleep, while I hold him and stroke his hair, listening to his adorable soft snores. If I ever started shifting, he’d hug me tighter, snuggling into my breast.

“He’s such a big softie for you.” Kie chuckles, along with the rest of the pogues. I glance to see Kie doodling on her leg with a marker. That’s when a great idea popped in my head.

“Hey Kie, how good are you at drawing penises?” I asked oh so casually. Everyone laughs and gives me a questioning look. “Can’t be that hard. Why do you ask?” I smirk and look at JJ. “I just thought it was time I’d get JJ back for all of his pranks. JJ was the ultimate prankster in our group. Now he gets a taste of his own medicine.

We arrive at the hotel parking lot. Thankfully, Sarah was easily able to convince her dad to let her book a reservation in one of the suites for Spring break. The pogues get out to stretch. I’m still trapped under JJ.

“Hey baby. Wake up. We’re here.” I nudge him. He just groans. “Finally, I thought that was never going to end.” He said groggy. I couldn’t stop a giggle slip past my lips when he lifted his head up, giving me a full view of the penis shooting cum on his head. He’s going to fucking kill me.

“What?” He asked confused as he got his duffel bag. I get a hold of myself for a moment. “Nothing. I just love you so much babe.” I wrap my arms around his neck before pecking his lips giggling. “How much of my weed did you smoke?” He asked. “None. I’m just so happy.” The pogues are having difficulty holding in their laughter, JJ just stands there clueless. “I swear to god if you guys smoked all my weed.” He mutters before walking up to the entrance. Everyone he passed by, gave him weird looks while some laughed. Sarah and John B go to the front desk to check us in, while we sit in the lobby.

That’s when JJ got super touchy feely with me. It first started off with him grabbing my thigh. Then it went to wrapping his arm around me. Normally, I wouldn’t find this odd, but it kind of felt almost territorial, especially when he kissed me hard. I finally pull away after needing air.

“What is up with you?” I asked. “That guy over there keeps fucking staring at you.” He grumbles. I just laugh, knowing I wasn’t the one he was staring at. “Don’t worry tiger. I’m all yours.” I play with hair. The pogues couldn’t hold their laughter in anymore, they start laughing hard, tears falling. I couldn’t help but join. “What the fuck is so funny??” JJ scabs the lobby.

“I don’t know.” Is all I was able to say. Before he could say anything, Sarah holds up the room key. We all make our way to the elevator, hand in hand with JJ. We squeeze in with a dad and his kid. The dad immediately notices the dick on JJ’s head and just chuckles. The son, who must’ve been like seven, couldn’t stop staring at JJ’s head. JJ notices this and takes a step away, a little creeped out.

“Hey mister, why’s there a peepee on your head?” The boy asked with the most serious face. Pope chokes on his water laughing along with the dad.

“What??” JJ asked looking at the kid puzzled. “There’s a peepee on your head!” JJ’s widen. He snatches my phone and pulls up the camera. He finally sees the dick on his head. Everyone starts bursting out laughing.

“You guys are so stupid.” He tries rubbing it off, surprisingly not cursing, sparing the child. JJ whispers into my ear, “You’re in for it now babygirl. Daddy’s gonna punish you tonight.” I only smirk, looking forward for tonight.

Next Morning;)

I groan as I toss and turn, looking for a certain someone in the empty bed. How dare my personal body pillow leave me. I look up to see JJ in the bathroom brushing his teeth. I admire his shirtless figure. God he’s so handsome. He catches my staring eyes, smirking. “Sleep good babygirl?” He asked closing the door and taking a hit from his vape. “Mm. C’mere.” I demand, arms open wide. He crawls on top of me. He kisses me softly, tongue slipping in. I let my hands roam his body. “You were a little rough with me last night daddy.” I say in such an innocent little voice, pouting. “Aw, did daddy beat your pretty little pussy up too much? Maybe you should’ve been a good girl yesterday and I wouldn’t have to punish you.” He plays along. “I just wanted to have some fun.” I say innocently. “Well, if you’re a good girl today, I’ll make sure to reward you. You gonna be a good girl for daddy?” His fingers trace my lips. “Yes, daddy.” I whispered. He leans down, our lips barely touching mine. “That’s my babygirl.” His lips finally attach to mine. I softly moan into the kiss. “Baby, I want you.” I whine. “I know you do babygirl. I’ll take good care of you. I promise. Just be a good girl for me.” He peppers kisses on my neck before the door swings open startling the two of us. Charging in are the Pogues, who pile on the two of us, ignoring our pleads and screams.

“Get your swimsuits on ya’ll. We’re going to the beach!” Sarah tickles me, making me erupt in laughter. “We would if you guys weren’t crushing us!” JJ wheezed. “Woogity, woogity!” Pope runs out of the room excited. JJ and I quickly get changed into our swimsuits and clothes. I walk out to see the boys ready with their trunks, tops, sunglasses and hats. The girls were both rocking their vibrant bikinis. Kie wore her favorite bright purple bikini, while Sarah wore her a hot pink, and I was wearing my royal blue, one of JJ’s favorites. The six of us make our way out of the hotel and into the beating sun.

The beach was insanely crowded with spring breakers. Many of them were already roaring drunk and high, having the time of their lives. We waste no time to join in on the fun. Drinks in hand, dancing to the music blasting from the speakers. We easily fit in with the wild crowd. I loved the feeling of being so carefree, not having to worry about anything from back home. As of now, we’re in the moment. We’re young and in love. We’re chasing thrills, always on an adventure. Whether that’s us chasing each other around like kids, chugging down a beer, splashing each other in the water, starting tickle fights, and more. We let our youth get the best of us.

We didn’t watch the day pass by as we partied on. We were all high as shit on our way back to the hotel room, and we apparently all had the munchies. John B held the phone as we all sat in the living room of the hotel suite watching cartoons and jumping on the beds, being chaotic. “What the fuck do you guys want?” He asked as we sat their clueless as to what we want to eat. “Food!” JJ answered, earning an eye roll from his best friend.

“Okay, can I get six cheeseburgers, six milkshakes, two of each flavor, a lot of fries, and by a lot, I mean like a big bucket of it, and do you guys have any Cheez-Its?” We all looked at him, feeling sorry for the chefs. “Downstairs? Okay. Ooh! You guys have cheesecake? Can we get? What flavor? Um, all of them! Why not.” Sweet baby Jesus, John B. “Thank you!” He hangs up. “Foods on the way. Can someone come with me downstairs? I need Cheez-Its.” Nobody volunteers, not even Sarah, so I raise my hand, cause why not? “Cool beans. We’ll be back in a second.” John B hollers before slamming the door. “Get me some fruit snacks!” Pope shouts desperately. “You got it dude!” We give him a thumbs up.

“So, what’s with you and Cheez-Its?” I asked curiously. “They’re awesome. I love them like you love choking on tapioca pearls.” He smirks. “What the hell?! How do you know about that?” I asked shocked. “Sarah sent us that video of you choking the pearls after seeing JJ. You must have it really bad for him huh?” He dies laughing. I’m going to kill Sarah. “In my defense, I didn’t even know he was at my place, and those tapioca pearls are dangerous. They should have a warning label.” I shrug my shoulders. “Aw, don’t worry. JJ’s got it pretty bad for you too.” “Oh? How so?” I asked interested.

“Ever since we found out about you guys, he’s been talking nonstop about you. He’s like ‘John b she’s so pretty, oh my god she’s amazing, you wouldn’t believe what she said to me today.’ I’ve never seen that boy blush so much in his entire life. He’s crazy about you.” I couldn’t help but smile thinking about JJ. “I’m really glad he’s with you though. Seriously, for a while I thought he’d never just settle down with one person. He was either having meaningless hookups or getting his heartbroken by bitchy girls.” This made me frown. I hate the idea of seeing him heartbroken. Knowing that he’s hooked up with many girls in the past, never seemed to bother me though.

“What made him want to be in a relationship with me?” I asked curiously. I wonder what would've happened if that was just a meaningless hookup. I probably wouldn't be here in Florida today.

“I asked him the same question. At first, he was amazed by how beautiful you were. He started falling for you harder, when guys hung out more. He said he knew he loved you the day you told him that heaven is a place where you’d see him. No one has ever told him that before. You made his heart melt that night.” I smile at the fond memory on the balcony.

“He really love you. You know that right?” John B scanned my eyes. “I know. I love him too. He’s gotta be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t imagine my life without him. I haven't even known him for a year yet, and I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with. My dad says I'm too young to love him, that they're just stupid feeling, but I know he’s wrong. I’ve told JJ more about myself than I’ve told my best friends. That’s how much I trust him. I’ve never been so close and intimate with someone before.” I ramble on, JJ clouding my mind. JB smiles down on me, approving my answer.

“I know what you mean. JJ and I have been best friends since the third grade. I just know that we’ll always be tight, even after high school, and we become adults. Our bond is too strong to break. Just like you and JJ’s love is unstoppable.” He smiles. “It’s JJ’s loyalty that makes relationships with him so promising.” I say and we both nod in agreement. “I’m glad you're a part of this group Aria. Welcome to the family.” He holds out his fist. I gladly return it. “I’m glad to be a part of it.” I smile as the two of return to the suite.

We all chowed down on the shitload of food delivered to us. I don’t even want to know what the room service bill is going to look like. All of us sit in a circle as we play truth or dare. I just got finished my dare, slurping down my vanilla milkshake, earning me a terrible brain freeze. “Whoo!” I shout. “Alright Aria, your turn to pick someone.” Pope says. “Okay, JJ! Truth or dare?” I asked. “Dare.” He challenged me. “No! You’ve picked dare five times already! Truth!” Kie shouted.

“Fine! Truth!” JJ puts his hand up in defeat. I think long and hard for a moment, until the perfect question popped in my head. “What is your full name?” It just occurred to me that I have never heard of is full name. Everyone just calls him JJ. “Nope!” He refused to answer the question. “Oh, come on! You have to answer! It can't be that bad! Is it Jack? Jonas? Jayden? Johnny? Jeff?” I guess. “Nope! Different question.” He still refused to answer. I huff before an idea popped in my head. His driver’s license! I don’t hesitate to run to his wallet. He follows closely behind, already knowing what I'm up to.

I quickly snatch the wallet off the counter, he tries to swipe it out of my hand. I frantically open it up to find the license, where his name is beautiful printed. Jesse Jacob Maybank. “Aw, babe that’s such a nice name! I love it! You definitely look like a Jesse and a Jacob.” I smile at his embarrassed face. “You're in for it now.” He chases me around the suite. Everyone gets up in excitement.

“Throw her in the pool!” Pope suggests. JJ’s, or should I say Jesse Jacob’s, ears perk up at the suggestion. “No! No! I swear to god JJ if you throw me in that pool!” I continue to run away from him. Everyone was blocking the bed and bathrooms, so I run out the suite and into the halls, JJ not too far behind. He finally catches up to me, grabbing waist and lifting me up. I squirm and squeal as he carries me down the hall, the Pogues laughing and encouraging him to throw me in.

We had to sneak our way in, since it was past ten, so no one was around. “No! Please! I’m sorry! No!” He launches the two of us into the cool water. Thank goodness we’re still in our swimwear. I resurface and find my friends laughing. “You jerk.” I splash him. “But I'm your jerk.” He pulls me close and plants a kiss on my lips. Our friends groan before splashing us. “The last thing we need is for you guys to be banging in the pool.” Says Kie. A devilish smile appears on my face when I see Pope and John B sneaking up behind their clueless girlfriends before pushing them into the water. We all let out a chain of laughs as we continue to screw around in the pool.

I sit on the steps with the girls, smoking some weed, as the boys play around in the deep end. We stare at the smoke combine with the beautiful night sky. “I never want to leave.” I say, gaining the girls attention. “I know. We should all live together in this big house on the beach. Every night could be a sleepover.” Says Kie. “I just don’t want to go back home.” Says Sarah. “Me either. I don’t even want to know what my father has to say.” I huff. He's probably livid as we speak. The whole neighborhood is probably gossiping.

“Have you talked to him yet?” Asked Kie. “Hell no. I think I might crash out in JJ’s room at the chateau for a bit when we get back. I really don’t feel like dealing with my dad.” “He’ll come around eventually. He just needs some time. Plus, your mom is the voice of reason. He just needs to get to know JJ. Everything will work out just fine.” Sarah reassures me. “I hope so.” I say looking at my prune fingers. “We should probably head in and shower.” I suggest. Me and the girls get out of the pool. The boys said they’ll come up later.

We all shower off and get dressed, before snuggling together under the blankets and put on ‘Mean Girls’. “I remember when you guys were fighting like crazy back then.” I chuckle to myself. These two were ruthless. Kie sighs. “It’s a good thing we got our shit worked out though.” Sarah chuckles. “Tell me about it.” “I love you guys, you know that right?” I asked. The two just looked at me with heart eyes. “We know.” Says Kie. “Just promise me that none of us will split up again. No matter how bad the fight is, please don’t go separate ways. It was hard seeing my best friends hating each other for so long.” I confess. “We promise. We’re not going anywhere splinter bean. What brought this on?” Sarah asked concerned.

“Nothing, I’m just scared, that we’ll split up after school. It’s senior year, and I don’t want us to drift apart. Some things just don’t last forever you know?” I asked. Kie strokes my hair. “Don’t worry. You're stuck with us to the end, because we love you too much to let you go.” I smile as I snuggle closer to the girls. The front door opens, the boys come bustling in. JJ’s eyebrow cocks up.

“Ooh, some girl on girl action. I don’t know if I should be happy or jealous.” JJ smirks, and we all just roll our eyes before Kie says. “You're such a perv.” JJ and the boys all land on top of us. I don’t know how we managed to fit on the bed together. At least we don’t have to worry about being cold.

The past few days have been fun exploring Miami Beach, trying a bunch of foods, partying all day, and such. I have no idea how we ended up in a tattoo parlor though. Kie had insisted on getting herself a new dolphin tattoo. I scanned the tattoo book, tempted to get something. I just finished getting my belly button pierced, which JJ doesn't know about yet. Him and the boys are off somewhere else, since we wanted to have a girl’s night out.

“What are you getting?” Asked Sarah. “Don't know yet. I think I want something meaningful though. I just don’t know what yet.” I continue to browse. I then see this nice font, which gives me an idea. “Can I ask you something?” I looked at Sarah. “What’s up?” She asked. “Would it be crazy if I got a name tattoo?” I asked warily. Her eyes widen. “Oh, like a certain someone's name?” She smirked. I just nod happily. “I think I know what I want...”

I lay down on the bed, naked underneath my robe, waiting anxiously for JJ to return. My eyes never leave my wrist. Inked on my once innocent skin, is printed, ‘JJ’. I’m a little nervous as to how he’ll react. We have the place to ourselves, finally, and I’m planning on making the beast out of it. The door opens, making me jump. I look up to see a surprised JJ, as his eyes roam my body. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” He says pleased with me wearing nothing but a silk robe, which he’ll definitely rip off me.

“That’s not the only surprise I have for you.” I say. “Oh? And what would that be?” He crawls next to me. “Well, for starters I got this.” I open up the robe, revealing my belly button piercing. He bites his lip. “That’s so fucking hot babygirl.” He says, ready to lunge at me. “Ah ah. There's also this.” I extend my arm, showing off the tattoo. His eyes bulge at the ink. The silence scares me for a moment. “Baby, I don’t know what to say.” He was speechless. “Do you like it?” I asked hesitantly. “I love it! I’m flattered. It’s just a lot to take in. Plus, I kind of have a surprise for you too.” He takes off his shirt to reveal something that nearly made pass the fuck out. On his naked chest, I see my name, Aria, forever inked on his beautiful skin. Tears well in my eyes.

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious? When did you get that?” I asked, my hand tempted to touch the ink. “Today, looks like great minds think alike.” He chuckles. The two of us sit there in silence, processing our thoughts. Neither of us could believe that we had our names forever printed together on our bodies. I just smile and gleam before grabbing his face and littering it in kisses. He giggles. “I love you JJ. Always and forever.” “I love you too Aria. God, I love you so much. You’re the only one for me.” He declares as I begin to unbuckle his belt, his shorts pool around his feet. I let the robe slip off my body, the cool air bites at my skin.

For the rest of the night, we dived deep into a pool of love and pleasure. We whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears as we made love. We didn't hold back our moans. His name left my lips like a prayer. Our breaths mixed together when he kissed me. I love you can be heard throughout the bedroom. He marked me when he filled me up completely with his seed. We have each other. Always and forever.

Always and forever will I remember this trip, as I stand alongside my family and lover, watching the sunset one last time in Miami before we hit the road. I can’t help but smile as I gazed at these amazing people. We jump in the van, leaving behind the words ‘Pogues 4 Life’ in the sand.

[bubmyg]

anniversary (crying version) - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: youtuber!au, fluff, the world’s most sickening couple is back except it’s on their anniversary, idk if i’ve ever mentioned this but ot7 are all youtubers in this universe (except for namjoon, he’s just seokjin’s roommate but that’s not important right now jfaksld)

word count: 1,529

summary: you want to surprise jeongguk for your three year anniversary or you give jimin the password to jeongguk’s youtube account (not clickbait)

a/n: yes this is shamelessly inspired by the festa euphoria piano version video and yes, you should listen to it while you read this

“Hey, did you grab your phone after you paid?”

There was a split second moment of panic in the round of Jeongguk’s eyes, puffing out like a frog where the suction of his lips were still attached to the wide straw of his boba. He stalled, mid stride, free hand smacking the pocket of his jeans. When his palm collided with the hard surface tucked securely in tight denim, he relaxed but frowned at you. An adorable pout, cheeks filling with air, nostrils flaring, lips reluctantly pulling away from his tea to scrunch at you.

“Why would you scare me like that?” Jeongguk whined.

You patted his stomach, “Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to lose that.”

He took your hand, pinning your fingers with the thread of his before he said, “Why? All your good nudes are on my camera—”

You smacked him with your free hand anyway, cheeks warming aside from the midday sun encompassing the park sidewalks, and you quipped, “What’s the return policy on boyfriends? It’s been three years now, can I still get at least a small refund?”

“Hey,” Jeongguk turned the attention of his pout to you just to see you falter because he knew you would, “You can’t be mean to me on our anniversary.”

“I’m not mean to you anyway.”

“I know you’re not,” He nearly toppled over you to peck your cheek. “You’re the bestest, most beautiful—”

“Okay, calm down lover boy,” You used the disadvantaged lean of his stature to direct him to your pleasing, “Let’s sit down over here for a second.”

You checked your watch once Jeongguk had settled enough to become preoccupied with swirling his straw around the tiny balls at the bottom of his drink, heart lodging in your throat as you watched the hands click over.

“Hey,” You nudged him by leaning into him, cheek against the inside of his bicep to peer up at him, “Check your phone for me.”

“What’s the obsession with my phone?” He continued to jam the straw into the black substance, swirling them against the transparent plastic, “...did you send me something that’s meant for my eyes only or—”

“What’s your obsession with seeing me naked?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

“Jeongguk,” He giggled when you snatched his drink out of his grasp, settling it onto the pebble coated concrete below your feet, “Check your phone.”

He sighed, arching to fish the device from his pocket before leaning forward, elbows on his thighs, as you attached yourself to his arm. You watched the side of his face instead of the screen as his thumb hesitated, hovering over a dimmed notification.

“My upload was successful?” Dark eyebrows scrunched and his chin tilted just a fraction, “What upload? I didn’t schedule anything—”

You nosed into the sleeve of Jeongguk’s shirt, silent as he surfed to his account, him equally as silent as he tapped on the “successful upload”, a blurry thumbnail preselected by the platform because that wasn’t the focus of the video anyway.

A fade of black into the first shot was all you watched before you pressed your features fully into his arm, holding onto the apex of his elbow a bit tighter as your own voice, distorted audio from the phone speakers but your voice nonetheless, floated to your ears.

“Hey baby…” It was a clip you’d taken that night, morning in theory but too soon after the clock had clicked past midnight to truly be considered morning. His head on your chest, lips parted and drooling against your sleep shirt, your free hand in the fluff of his shower fresh hair while the other tried to maintain a semi decent angle without waking him, “Happy anniversary.”

The song that began to play was one of his, self produced solely for the purpose of his intro and outro but the wordlessly melody extended into something beautiful, something to slap over any and all vlogs he made dedicated to you. One he serenaded you to in the mornings when his mouth was still full of toothpaste or whispered into your hair when the fatigue of everything made it hard to sleep.

It was different this time, though, tweaked at the request of your nonmusical knowledge but fixed by the talented hands of Yoongi, softened and backtracked with a piano you’d watched the commentary-Youtuber play himself while you roughed eager hands over his shoulders and high fived him with two hands afterwards (It’s perfect, thank you!), then taken to Jimin to add to the never-ending list of clips you’d emailed him, once you just wanted placed into a montage, nothing too fancy. But Jimin made it fancy, pouring the love you didn’t know how to say nor edit into the collage of memories, promising not to do anything stupid with his newfound ability to hack into Jeongguk’s Youtube account by means of your quick handwriting on a pink sticky note.

The memories started as early as you had felt confident enough to film him as much as he filmed you, quite literally a clip of him fiddling with his camera while you draped yourself over his shoulder, zooming in on the freckle underneath the smile on his lips while he murmured are you me now? to as late as the week before your anniversary when you’d caught him researching human sized flower bouquets in his office. Capturing the moments in between all of his life that was plastered on the Internet, like seeing himself through a mirror but instead with glasses on that zeroed in on your perspective, the love and affection he was aware of but often blind to the full magnitude.

He filmed things because he wasn’t good with words. You filmed things to reinforce your words, reassure him of your words.

You watched the last clip fade away with the music, the audio of the original clip left in this time, one from your last vacation where he’d given you a tiny diamond ring on the beach (This isn’t what you think. Okay maybe it is. It’s a promise. Do they call it a promise ring?) and you’d cried about how cheesy he was, eyes still a little puffy when you turned your phone camera on but it didn’t matter because he was still rambling to the painted canvas sky about how much he loved you when you squished his cheeks between your thumb and four fingers, ring not quite fully on your finger but prominent nonetheless, puffing out his lips enough to plant a firm kiss on them.

“I love you too, idiot.”

The screen was black long enough for the autoplay feature to slip into his video from the previous week, his own screeching voice bringing him back to reality as he exited the application, locking his phone to set it gently aside on the bench.

“How did you…”

“Yoongi mixed the song for me. Jimin helped me edit and upload,” You watched as he continued to stare at the sidewalk, eyes opening all the way and then scrunching shut.

“So you mean Jimin has my password?”

“He promised he wouldn’t do anything. I’ve been working on this for weeks, he would have already deleted that one prank video where you shaved a stripe into the back of his head and—”

Your surroundings whirled, voice cut off with an abrupt hmph! as you were crushed in a pair of strong arms, turned and twisted until you were straddling his lap.

“I’m kidding. Oh my god, I was just kidding,” Jeongguk’s nose dug into the crook of your neck, fists scrunched at the back of your shirt, “He can delete my entire channel. I couldn't care any less at the moment. I love you so much. I love you so fucking much—”

You cooed when he collected your face in his hands, holding you at the tear of his gaze until the streams bubbling over his bright eyes contoured a line down the slope of his nose. He laughed when your thumb brushed into his skin, collecting the droplets where they framed red at the crinkles in his smile, brushing until it did no good and you decided to kiss him instead.

“Thank you. It’s perfect—” Jeongguk stuttered into the seam of your lips that tasted of salt and peach, “—you’re perfect. You are. It’s ridiculous. I can’t believe you’re mine. How did I—”

“Shh.”

He flushed under your affections, seven shades of shy pink when you kissed his cheek then moved for the other. “This is why I stick to videos,” He told you when you kissed his eyelid, peering up at you with a scrunched nose that you kissed too.

“And you’re damn good at it.”

Some more squeaks and attempts at rambling his affections for you subsided like the leak of tears into your collar. “M’gonna hold you forever,” He decided finally, tightening his grip in the same moment that you tried to clamber off him.

“Only if I can love you forever.”

Silence and then Jeongguk huffed against the dip in your collarbone.

“Ew. Maybe we should both stick to videos…”

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 4]

A/N: Day number 4 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. This one’s almost 6k words. I loved writing this and I hope you like it too. It’s cheesy and cutesy and maybe cliché but it’s Christmas so idgaf. ENJOY ♥

Prompt: Snowed in together.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”

It happens, every once in a while, that you read a sentence in a book that you’ve read a hundred, maybe a million times before and it suddenly hits you like a punch straight to your gut. Because it’s different now. The book has stayed the same all through the seasons but you realize, you’re a whole new person who’s been through a whole new set of trials and tribulations. And all of a sudden you understand. 

I slump back into the cold, sticky plastic of the bright blue seat and clutch my beat up copy of Catcher in the Rye closer to me. I face the huge windows, looking out into the black of the night and the airplanes, firmly rooted on the ground. There’s a heavy downfall of snow and no sign of it stopping anytime soon. 

Maybe, I realize, this is my reckoning. Isn’t this what I’ve been wishing for ? A white Christmas like the one from the songs and the movies ?

Well merry fucking Christmas, (Y/N).

Every snowflake is a sick reminder of what could have been. Of what isn’t. 

I let my eyes travel around the area. Rows and rows of blue plastic seats. There’s not a lot of people waiting around here. I assume most people have flown home a few days ago to make it in time for Christmas and the few that weren’t smart enough to do that, have resorted to some bar or a restaurant or something. 

In theory, I could do that too. The thing is, spending Christmas eve by myself in an airport restaurant, would just seal the deal for this being the most depressing and downright sad Christmas of my whole life. 

So I stay seated and lose myself in Holden Caulfield's delightful pretentiousness. 

They’re playing Christmas music from a nearby speaker. I wonder if they want to taunt me. Me and everyone else stuck in a fucking snowstorm on Christmas Eve in god damn Indianapolis. They even have a tree set up and where it should make people happy, it only makes me even more sad. I wanna be home with my family, decorating my own tree with all the weird and quirky ornaments we’ve collected over the years. They all come with their own stories and it fills my heart with bittersweet nostalgia.

I’ve never known what being homesick feels like until tonight.

Again my eyes move along the rows of plastic seats. There’s a man in a sharp suit a few rows down. He’s got neatly combed hair and a red tie and shiny shoes and a face that says “ My name is Michael and I don’t allow anyone to call me by a nickname and I have an important job and I drive an expensive car and I probably fuck my secretary. “ 

It’s not a face you particularly want to look at. Except maybe if you’re said secretary. 

A family of 3 sits by the end of the row. They seem — at peace. And for a moment I wish I could be them. I guess it’s different being stuck if you’re stuck with the people you love. 

It makes me bitter to think about it so I avert my eyes and let them travel down the other side of rows. Which turns out to be no better for my mental state because there’s a couple there and they do not seem to care that an airport terminal is not the ideal place for some serious tongue action.

Across from them sits a guy, he’s got a mean mullet. Strands and strands of golden curls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and big black boots and there’s a deep scowl permanently edged onto his face. If he’s aiming for the whole bad boy vibe, he’s really nailing it. 

I can see him shaking his head, as he too notices the couple getting awfully touchy, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

He notices and he looks at me and even across two whole rows of plastic seats I can see just how gorgeously blue his eyes are. 

He doesn’t laugh or smirk or does anything to give me any indication of his feelings. Maybe I’m grateful for it. Maybe I wish he would. It would be quite nice to make a connection with someone right now. Just to make being alone feel a little less lonely.

“ the snow's comin' down

(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall

(Christmas) lots of people around

(Christmas) baby, please come home”

It’s quite ironic, really,that they would chose this damn song. Of all the Christmas songs in all of the world. 

Mullet boy seems to be a kindred spirit in this regard, I can see him sigh and murmur a “for fucks sake” into to collar of his jacket, as he sinks deeper into the chair.

“They’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all. “ 

Yeah it really fucking isn’t. 

A smacking of lips catches my attention and I focus back on the couple just to witness the guy’s hand travel straight under the sweater of his girlfriend. It’s a sight I don’t particularly want to see. 

A sight that apparently makes my face screw up in aversion. And as it does, old blue eyes looks back at me and this time, I see a smirk. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared but I know for a fact that it was there. Maybe I don’t have to be all that lonely after all.

I close the bruised and battered orange book that, at this point, is hardly orange anymore, and place it in my backpack. If my life was a John Hughes movie or maybe any other romantic comedy, I’d get off my seat and walk over. There’d be some cheesy some playing in the background, maybe by the Smiths. I would throw him a smile and he’d look at me, an angel’s choir singing wonderous melodies. And tonight would change both our lives forever.

Alas my life is not a movie that Morrissey wrote any songs about. I am a coward and my heart already lies in several little pieces at my feet. So I don’t walk over just like that with no idea what to say, no incentive.

Instead I grab my backpack and walk past him, down a long corridor and end up at a vending machine that sells both, coffee and soup and I secretly pray that they don't come from the same jet. 

The last coffee I had, I think as the warm liquid fills the paper cup, I bought at the little cart by Kelvin’s dorm room. It was a good coffee, had Hazelnut sirup in it. I remember the warmth of it in my hand. I remember the taste on my tongue. I vividly remember the sound of the cup hitting the floor and the stains on my pants and the feeling of my heart as it broke in two.

I don’t want to remember that though, so I will myself to ignore it. To push the thoughts away. I fill the second cup, grab it, put lids on them and then carry them back towards the row of seats.

Mullet boy doesn’t as much as glance at me as I drop down in the seat next to him. Only shows me that he notices me as I hold one of the coffee cups out to him.

“ Sorry it’s not booze. I know that would make looking at these two a little more entertaining. “ 

For a second he just looks at me in confusion, contemplates whether or not to trust me. In the end he takes the drink so I take that for a good sign.

“ Thanks. “ 

His voice is deep and raspy and I really really like the way it sounds. 

“ I wonder if they even realize there’s other people around “ I say, watching the dude’s hand travel down the girls back, as they dreamily blink at each other like the main characters on a romance novel. Maybe those two get the romance and the the Smith song in the background. Maybe I’m just a sad side character in their story.

Mullet boy scoffs, takes a sip of coffee then speaks up. “ Don’t even think they’d notice if we joined in “.

He smirks at that. There’s an absolute underappreciation for people who laugh at their own jokes. I think it’s charming, endearing even. If you can’t laugh at your own joke, how do you expect anyone else to do it.

“ Least they’re not alone on Christmas fucking eve “ 

I don’t know why I say it. I don’t necessarily want to share my sob story. Sometimes my words just move faster than my head does.

“ Christmas is overrated anyway “ blue eyes says and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s supposed to look casual. Only you can’t say shit like “Christmas is overrated” and be casual about it. There’s always more to a statement like that.

“ You think ? “ 

“ I know. “

“ How come ? “ 

He turns to face me and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. It’s like he’s straight from the cover of one of my mom’s romance novels. I think it’s quite unfair that he gets to look like this on a day like today and I — I look just the way I feel. Sad. Exhausted. 

“ It’s none of your business. “ 

“ Oh geez, and here I was thinking we were bonding over our shared distaste for PDA. Guess not. “ 

“ You guessed right. “ 

For a moment, we fall into silence as another song plays over the stereo that has entirely too many obnoxious jingle bells in the backing track. For a moment I feel very lonely again.

It’s then, that the universe seems to have pity on me. It sends me a sign. A gift. A little Christmas miracle if you will.

That comes in the form of the couple getting more touchy, more — obnoxious. So obnoxious that the girl leans back, presumably to lay on the seats, only that’s not what happens. It seems to happen in slow motion when really it’s probably only the blink of an eye. She leans back and back and back and suddenly tumbles off the seats and onto the cold linoleum floor, her mister holding onto her so tightly, he falls right down with her.

My mama always told me not to laugh at other people’s misfortune. But at 18 years of age, I feel it’s time to break some rules my mama set. And this is one of them.

I can’t help it. I laugh. It comes from the deepest corner of my belly and fills my entire being. Then I catch those gorgeous blue eyes looking at my and I notice he’s laughing too. A hearty laugh. I think it’s a good one. No halfway laugh. No bullshitting. It’s a proper laugh and, as we lock eyes, our laughter only seems to increase.

The magic bubble that, until now, has surrounded the couple, seems to have been popped. It’s vanished. For them at least. Because as our laughter rings in unison, a proper harmony of joy, I feel like maybe me and mullet boy have been given a tiny spark of magic ourselves.

“ I’m (Y/N), by the way “ I say, trying to hold in more chuckles.

“ Billy ” 

“ No no, you got it all wrong. His name is Michael and he’s on a business trip that he tells his wife he couldn’t postpone but actually he just wanted to get away from his family for the holidays. “ 

“ Michael ? nah. This dude’s not a Michael. “ 

“ So what’s his name then, Billy ? “ 

He thinks for a moment, face scrunched up in a way that is absolutely adorable. It makes him look way younger than he probably is. Very boy-ish. Very cute.

“ Edward “

“ Edward ? “ 

“ Yes. Look at him, he looks so boring. And can you think of a more boring name than fucking Edward ? “ 

I have to admit, he has a point. So I shrug and nod. “ You have a point. “ 

The little family from earlier, passes us and, as the mom glances towards us, her eye linger on Billy just a moment too long for it to be accidental. And he notices, the cocky bastard. He notices and revels in it, letting the corner of his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.

“ What the fuck was that ? “ I asked, flattened by the sheer audacity for both of them.

“ I got that effect on women of all ages. “ 

“ Wow, your ego is really tiny, huh. “ 

When he looks at me, grin widening and eye filling with mischief, I know I just said the wrong thing. I set myself up with this one, I admit that.

“ That’s the only thing tiny about me. “ 

“ Aaaand that’s my cue to leave. “ I pull myself halfway out of my seat when his arm shoots out and his hand grabs onto mine. The mischief in his eyes in gone, completely replaced by a pure and unfiltered honesty.

“ Stay. Please. “ 

I sink back down and we fall into a silence. He knows that I saw it in his eyes, the fear of being left alone and I know that he knows and so we’re stuck in this weird limbo of whether to ignore it or spill our sorrows to one another. And maybe it’s because today is Christmas and on Christmas you tell the truth, even if it to a stranger at an airport, but he suddenly breaks the silence and starts talking.

“ I don’t wanna be alone. “ 

“ Yeah me neither. “ 

“ I uh — I was supposed to be in California, to visit my mom over Christmas. I haven’t seen her in — in years. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together since I was 8. I called her earlier, from the payphone. I thought she might be devastated. She’s not. I don’t think she cares very much if I’m there or not. I’m still debating whether or not I wanna get on the plane if it ever goes. “ 

“ I came to visit my boyfriend for Christmas. Surprise him, you know. He’s going to college here in Indiana. We’re both from California and we haven’t seen each other since the summer. I thought It was the ultimate proof of my love to him. Well — turns out he’s been fucking his way around campus while I’ve been busy making plans on how to rearrange my life and all my dreams, to come study with him in Indiana after I graduate High School. “

Another silence fills our hearts but this one isn’t thick with anticipation and tension. It’s one that settles deep in our bones as we realize, that sometimes there’s comfort in shared misery. 

“ Merry fucking Christmas to us. “ Billy murmures.

“ Do you wanna go see if we can get a drink at the bar ? “

“ That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. “ 

“ I can not believe your fake ID says you’re name’s Ricky Hardman. “ 

“ If you’re mocking me I can just drink this myself, you know. “ 

“ Oh come on. It’s just — that sounds like such a porn name. “ 

“ So what. “ 

I have to snort at his complete lack of self reflection. He knows I’m right but he’s so stubborn. Again I find myself thinking it’s endearing rather than annoying.

To come back to a statement I made earlier, I also think we don’t appreciate the people enough, that make us snort-laugh. Is it a bit embarrassing and cringy? Sure but it’s a laugh either way and I don’t think we should ever take that for granted.

“ Put the cups down so I can spice it up a little bit “ Billy instructs me and I do as he says. This is probably our 4th refill of coffee for the night, my mom would have a go at me for all the caffeine but whatever.

Billy opens the bottle of booze he just purchased at the airport store and pour us both a decent amount into our coffees. Might as well have our own little Christmas celebration if we’re stuck here with nothing else to do.

Cups clutched in our hands we roam around the airport, cheeks warming up from the alcohol. I feel more at peace now and yet my heart is ever as heavy with the longing to be home. 

A sign directs us towards the visitors terrace where families usually gather to watch the planes take off and land. It’s deserted now but that’s not really a surprise. It’s cold, it’s snowing and there’s no flights going anyway. It’s just a dark, snowy night and a lonely runway illuminated by small lights that, if you believe hard enough, almost look like fairy lights in the distance.

“ I know it looks pretty, “ I say as I lean against the banister of the terrace “ but I really don’t find snow all that great.” 

“ I fucking sucks, “ Billy replies. “ It’s cold and wet and turns into gray slosh in the matter of a few minutes. “ 

“ I always dreamed of a white Christmas, now I can’t wait to never see snow again. “ 

“ Me too. I hate it. Snow. Indiana. At least you get to stay in California once you make it there. I have to wait until graduation to finally move back home. “ 

I don’t want to pry, I really don’t but there’s something about him that intrigues me. Everything he says and does in scrowded in some kind of mystery. Some hidden meaning in all of it. 

The way he looks and the way his words hold a certain softness to them, is a whole enigma in itself.

“ You wanna come back to Cali ? “ 

“ Fuck yes. I can’t stay here longer than I need to. I miss the sun and the beach and — my home. “ 

“ Oh god yes, the beach. “ 

“ See, and you wanted to give up on all of that for a guy called Kelvin. “ 

“ I — he’s nice.” 

“ Oh I’m sure he is. And secure and smart. “ 

“ He is. We’ve been together since my sophomore year in Highschool. He was my first — everything. He studies business and is gonna take over his dad’s company one day. “ 

Billy blows a raspberry before turning to me with his perfect eyebrow raised in mockery. 

“ That is so dull. “

“ It’s not “ 

 “ But it is ! Tell me honestly, do you really love this guy or is it just — comfortable. Being with him ? “ 

And once again, something that I’ve considered so many times in my life, suddenly affects me in a completely different way than I am used to. I understand all of a sudden. 

I get it.

“ I mean, maybe you have a point. What makes you the relationship expert though ? “ 

“ Nothing. I’m not saying I am. But I know I never plan on spending my whole life with someone because I am comfortable with them. It’s your goddamn life, you should live it for yourself. “ 

It hits me light a freight train. Straight in the heart. He’s right. Whether I want to admit it or not, Billy is right. I don’t let him know that though, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself. I think he knows anyway, by the way I look at him. By the way he looks at me. 

“ Have you decided whether or not you wanna get on the flight ? “ I ask. It’s still not my place to ask those questions but it feels like something has shifted between us. Like tonight is ours entirely. A night of truths. Of heart opened and unguarded.

“ The alternative is spending Christmas with my dad and his wife and my stepsister. “ 

“ Sounds alright to me. “ 

“ Yeah, only my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet. He’s not a nice guy. His wife is a fucking nutcase, obeying his every will. She has the backbone of a jellyfish. And Max — Max hates me. That one’s my fault though. “ 

I want to hug him. It’s a strong urge that overcomes me. A sudden rush. His words are soft and sad and frustrated and I can see in his eyes just how much this hurts him. And god, it’s Christmas Eve. I just want to make him feel a little less alone.

So I do. I hug him, rest my head on his shoulder and together we look at the snow falling around us, covering the world in a thick white frosty blanket. 

“ I’m sorry about that. Just so you know though, I’m glad we’re stuck here together. “ 

“ Well yeah, I’m hot and fun and I have great hair. “ 

“ Oh there we go again with the ego. “ I laugh. He makes me me laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this around Kelvin.

“ What’s that book you’ve been reading. “ Billy asks as the laughter settles down again.

“ Catcher in the Rye. It’s one of my favorites. “ 

“ Uh-huh. What’s it about ?” 

“ This boy, Holden. He gets kicked out of prep school and runs of to New York City and yeah it basically chronicles his days in NYC. It’s about loss of innocence and isolation. “ 

“ Sounds absolutely — “ 

“ Wonderful “ 

“ Boring. “ 

Here’s the thing about interests and hobbies. They’re a very personal, very individual experience. They’re yours. And yes, maybe it’s nice to share your passions with another person who feels the same. But let’s be honest: It doesn’t really matter. I am not hurt by Billy’s disinterest. Not even by his mocking scoff. Because it in no way lessens my love for the book. The story it tells and the nostalgia it brings me.

It also doesn’t lessen the affection growing inside me, towards Billy. An affection that both scares and excites me at the same time. By all means, it is delusional to fall for a stranger at an airport, who doesn’t even live in the same state as me. Someone I’ve only spent a few hours with.

Then again, life is never a straight path. I used to think it was but after tonight, maybe I can let myself take some backroads. Take a road less traveled. See where it leads me and if it brings me to a dead end, turn around and try again.

Maybe sometimes it needs a boy with a leather jacket and gorgeous blue eyes, to make you realize that life can be so much more if you just let yourself live it.

“ Okay sure. What are your interests then ? I’m sure there’s something you like doing, something you care about. “ 

“ My car. “ 

“ That’s such a guy answer. “ 

“ Pff, whatever. “ 

“ What else ? “ 

He takes a moment to answer. Contemplates. Mulls his answer over in his head. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes I haven’t seen since he talked about his mom earlier tonight.

“ Music. “ 

“ Music ?” 

“ I really care about music. Not — not playing it but just music in itself. You can’t tell anyone this, okay ? It’s a bit ridiculous and It’s not really realistic, but I would love to work at a record label. Or maybe have my own music venue. To help discover bands and find new, awesome music. Whenever I’m sad or angry or frustrated, or even happy, there’s a specific songs for any emotion, any situation. I want everyone to be able to have that in their life. “ 

There’s something undeniably sexy about someone being passionate about something. He only just started but I could honestly listen to Billy talk about music for hours and hours and hours.

“ So who’s your favorite band then ? “ 

“ I’ll sound pretentious as fuck but my favorites are probably some local bands from my hometown in California. “ 

“ Maybe when you’re back home after graduation, you can take me to a gig. Show me some of those bands. “

My heart beats faster as I realize this is the first time either of us has mentioned there being a future. More than just one magical night at the airport. 

It slipped out but I’m glad it did. The idea of more nights together, more time spent listening to him talk about his music. Experiencing that music with him. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it excites me so much.

“ Yeah. Sounds like a plan. “ 

“ A good plan. “

“ A great plan. “ 

I don’t know if he notices that I notice, but his hand drops to the small of my back, so gently it’s but a whisper of a touch. It warms me up more than our boozy coffee ever managed to.

Airports have a weird energy. A specific mood that transcends through every corner in every room. It’s loaded with the arrival of change. It might be good and exciting or it might be sad. But something is about to change and you can feel it sizzling in the air.

As I stand next to Billy in the softly falling snow, I know that the girl that arrived at the airport earlier today, heartbroken and without purpose, is not the same girl that’s gonna get on that flight home. Something has changed. I think I like this new girl better.

“ They’re singing deck the halls … “ 

“ Oh Jesus, what is it with this fucking song ? “ 

“ What, you don’t like it ? “ 

“ Do you ? “ 

“ Totally “ 

I don’t know what hits me. Maybe it’s the fact that the future is so awfully unknown. I don’t know if after tonight I will ever see Billy again. Or maybe because it’s Christmas. 

Or maybe because I’m a little drunk and half in love.

But I start to dance and sing along. With the snow falling down on me. Snowflakes dropping onto my hair and melting, leaving it wet and streaky. But it doesn’t matter right then. All that matter is the music and the night and him and I.

“ Come dance with me. “ 

“ I don’t dance. “ 

“ It’s Christmas Eve, Billy. It’s my Christmas wish. Come on. There’s no one around. “ 

Here’s some piece of advice from me to you: If you’ve never had a guy in a leather jacket and biker boots twirl you around while the snow is falling and Christmas songs play over the stereo, then you’re missing out.

Billy’s hand is warm, his smile is gentle. It’s all so vastly different from the way I felt when touching Kelvin. Everything that comes with Billy is an enigma, a surprise. Nothing is certain and yet I am sure that I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.

The last chord of the song echoes through the night as Billy pulls me close to him, I can see his breath in the cold, accumulating in little clouds. I can feel his skin in mine. 

“ You’re gonna get on that flight, Billy Hargrove. “ I say, my voice but a sigh. A whisper

“ I’m gonna get on the flight. I’m gonna graduate and then come back to California. Permanently this time. I’ll find you and take you to all the underground clubs and show you all my favorite bands. And I’ll even listen to you talk about your books. “ 

“ Even if you think they’re boring. “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ 

“ Hey Billy. “ 

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna write a book. I think that’s what I want to do with my life. “ 

He’s so close now, our noses touching, our breaths touching, our lips touching. Warm and soft and gentle.

“ Write about us, so you don’t forget me. “ 

I kiss him then. Or he kisses me. I don’t know for sure but really what does it matter. In the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant who initiated the kiss. It matters that it happened. And by god I will never be able to forget this kiss or the boy that gave it to me. 

“ Dear passengers, we are delighted to announce that the runway has been cleared. The sky is blue and free of any downfall. Flights will resume shortly. More information about departure times will be available shortly. Feel free to turn to our staff for guidance or additional information. 

“ Billy. Hey, Billy. “ I say, and shake him awake. He looks so peaceful and boyish while sleeping, it breaks my heart a little to interrupt his sleep. 

“ Hmm.. ? “ 

“ I think our flights are gonna go soon. Snow’s stopped. “ 

“ Oh. “

I don’t have to ask to know what he’s feeling. What he wants to say. “ Oh. this is it for us. “ 

We gather our stuff, stretch our limbs and get off the uncomfortable plastic seats. The board on the wall shows us that our flights go in just two hours. His to San Diego, mine to LA. 

Our time is numbered and we finally have an expiration date. My heart breaks once again though this time I try to hold onto the fact that we both want a future of whatever it is we’re sharing. Even if it’s just a friendship, I want Billy Hargrove in my life.

“ Hey uh — “ Billy speaks up and takes my hand in his “ let’s make a deal. “ 

“ What deal ? “ 

“ To see each other again. Maybe — maybe next Christmas Eve. “ 

“ Where ? “ 

“ I don’t know. Let me — let me come to you. “

“ Santa Monica pier. “ 

“ Okay sure. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

He kisses me again and this one too, will stay with me forever. In my heart and in my head.

“ Here I’ll give you my phone number. Call me if anything changes. If my dad answers just ignore his stupid comments “ He says, fumbles around in his backpack and come up with a pen and — a cassette tape ?!

“ Something to remember me by “ he points out as he scribbles his number onto the little slip of paper. “ Some of my favorite songs on there. “ 

“ If you give me something, let me give you something too. “ I say and pull out my old worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, scribble a message on the first page, then hand it to him.

“ There’s a bunch of notes in the margins. I never got to share them with anyone, I’ll gladly share them with you. “ 

Then I kiss him. Again and again and again, until it’s all I can think about and all I can feel.

“ Flight 207 to LAX boarding now. “ 

And that is it for us, at least for now. The magic of last night is broken. It’s Christmas Eve gone, replaced by Christmas day. No snowstorm. No magic. Just the brutal truth that real life awaits.

So we part. With more kisses and a promise.

“ Until next Christmas. “ 

The plane is already high up in the air when Billy Hargrove pulls the book from his pocket. It’s old and worn out and what looks like it used to be orange once upon a time is now a washed out beige.

He opens it up to the first page and can’t suppress a smile. A real one. Not one of those he fakes for his dad and susann. A real smile that reaches his eyes. One he feels in his heart.

“ Meet me at the Merry-Go-Round! “ 

His heart soars as he thinks about next year. A future that suddenly looks much brighter than ever before. 

There’s a lot of notes and scribbles and highlighted sentences. He skims through it until one passage catches his attention.

“ Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. “ 

And so he thinks back to the overly touchy couple and their magnificent tumble from the plastic seats. And he remembers her laugh and his ringing up in unison.

He understands. That Holden guy has a point. Maybe it’s worth reading the book after all.

A year later.

I’m rushing through the crowd of people, a vibrant clementine sky the backdrop for my misery. God, why can I never be on time.

My heart hammers in my chest. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

His eyes meet mine across the way as he leans against the banister by the Merry-Go-Round and I feel like I am back at the airport. The magic is back.

“ Sorry I am late. I am so so sorry.  “  I say and can’t help myself but pull him into a kiss. One filled with passion and longing and a promise kept.

“ Ah If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late. “ He replies.

“ You read the book. “ 

“ I read the book and all your notes. “ 

“ That’s good, I uh — have something else for you to read. “ 

It’s a bundle of papers, no cover art or fancy pictures on the front page. All it says in big bold letters is “ A white Christmas - a story of girl meets boy. “ I hand it to Billy and he looks at me in confusion.

“What’s that ? “ 

“ That’s the first draft of my book. “ 

“ You wrote it! “ 

“ You believed I could so I did. “ 

“ What’s it about ? “

“ Oh you know, just a girl and a boy and a magical night at the airport. Lots of snow. Lots of kissing. Little bit of magic. “ 

“ Can’t wait to read it. So, you wanna go see a band ? “ 

“ They any good ? “ 

“ Pretty fucking good!” 

Darlene Love’s voice echoes through the stereo and for the first time I have to disagree. This feels like Christmas more than any moment before ever did.

And my baby is finally home.

 Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies​ and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub ; @killer-queen-xo ; @william-hargroves ; @billysgodcomplex ; @daisyxbuckley ; @allabouthargrove ; @mcrmarvelloki ; @charmed-asylum ; @1998--js ; @naiomiwinchester​ ; @hargrovesprincess​ ; @mystrangerfics​ ; @teafrompari​ ; @staybruuutal​ ; @colourado​ ; @higher-further-faster-bb​ ; @ayybtch​ ; @carlaangel86​ ; @baebee35​

[universoulbeginnings]

Author: @universoulbeginnings, it’s been a minute since I’ve written fanfiction. Just trying to break out of my writer’s block. 

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex)

Warning: threesome, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), shower sex

Word Count: 2,355

Summary: You and Taehyung had been together for what seemed like forever. Your relationship could’ve be considered unique, given how open you both were with one another. But neither of you had ever strayed from each other. That was until he found out about your “little” crush on his best friend, Jimin. He didn’t think too much of it until he asked you about it, and you were honest with him. You mentioned how you had feelings for Jimin too, and fantasized about having them both. But you never acted on your feelings because you didn’t want to come in between their friendship. Unbeknownst to you, Jimin had also confessed to Taehyung about his feelings for you, so he figured why not do something about it?

~~~

You stared at yourself in the mirror, clearly nervous about the night you were about to have. The black sheer lace corset hugged your curves in all the right places, along with the black lace boy shorts that accentuated your nice apple bottom. Your usual curly black hair was straightened to a “T”, giving you a chic look. After slipping on your peep toe faux-leather platform pumps and tying on your short black satin robe, you lightly sprayed a little perfume on both sides of your neck, in between your breasts, and on your wrists. The make-up you applied was subtle, settling on a nude eye shadow, a little black eye liner, mascara, and clear lip gloss. Once you were sure you had finished getting ready, you walked out to your living room, putting on a slow R&B song. Then you headed to the kitchen, grabbing three wine glasses and the bottle of Moscato. After pouring the same amount in each glass, you placed the bottle in the bucket of ice you placed in the middle of the dining room table. Grabbing the glasses, you sat down at the table, propping your well defined legs up on the table, crossing one ankle over the other.

Your phone buzzed on the table, a small smirk played on your face. Looking at the caller ID, you noticed it read HIS name. You could feel your heart start to race a little as you answered the phone.

“Hello?” You answered still smiling.

“I’m here.” He said, his low tone causing the butterflies to turn in your stomach.

“The front door is unlocked. So come on in.” You said before hanging up the phone.

You quickly adjusted the robe to make sure nothing was peeking out, and reclaimed your position at the table. You took time to notice how your legs were glistening in the dimly lit room, and couldn’t help but get a little excited.

“Here goes nothing.”

A few seconds later, you watched the doorknob turn and the front door slowly open, revealing your boyfriend, Taehyung and his best friend, Jimin. They were just returning from dinner with their record label, so they were dressed in black tie suits. After getting a glimpse of you, and the way you were sitting brought a sly smirk to Taehyung’s face.

“Welcome home.” You said, getting up to greet your boyfriend with a passionate kiss.

You turned your attention to Jimin, who was clearly in shock that made you chuckle a bit before also giving him a passionate kiss. Slowly pulling away, you grabbed both of their hands and led them to the kitchen table. You handed them both wine glasses, and told them to have a seat in the living room. They did as they were told, and you went over to your speaker. Shuffling to another slow R&B song, you turned your attention back to the two men that were currently sitting on the couch. Jimin had finished his wine while Taehyung was content with his glass, lust apparent in their eyes. Walking over to Jimin, you held out your hand with a small smile.

“Come here.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

As he took your hand, you led him to the middle of the living room. Your hands slowly slid inside his blazer, pushing it off of his shoulders. Once it was off, you threw it onto the nearby armchair. You then realized how close you were to Jimin. You could feel his breath on your skin, your hands slowly gliding up his arms, and wrapping around his neck as you both moved in rhythm to the music. You slowly turned your back to him and started grinding into him, feeling him as he caressed your arms while leaving small kisses on your neck. When you opened your eyes, you noticed Taehyung as he was pulling off his black button down, and tossing it to somewhere unknown. 

You could feel wetness starting to pool at the apex of your thighs, and when Taehyung’s hands found their way to your waist, that was it for you. His lips met yours in a fiery kiss that lit your entire body on fire. While Taehyung had you occupied, Jimin took that time to remove his dress shirt, and when Taehyung turned you to face Jimin, you felt like you were going to hyperventilate. As soon as Jimin kissed you, you knew shit was about to get real. You wrapped one arm around Taehyung’s neck, and ran another hand down Jimin’s well-defined abs. Your head was literally spinning at this point, and you just wanted them to ravish you entirely. Taehyung broke you out of your lust-filled coma when he whispered in your ear.

“The bedroom. Now.” 

At that point, you were passed speaking, and could only nod your head. Grabbing their hands again, you led them to the bedroom. Taehyung closed the door to your shared bedroom, while Jimin took that chance to ravage your lips, a soft moan escaping from you. Jimin continued to kiss you, as Taehyung came up from behind you and started kissing your neck while untying your robe. You pulled away from Jimin, letting your robe fall to the floor, and pool around your feet.

“God, you look so fucking sexy.” Taehyung whispered in your ear.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself tonight, love.” Jimin finally spoke.

“No one’s asking you to.” You said before kissing him again.

“______ let me have you.” Jimin whispered in between kisses.

You slowly turned your back to him, and Taehyung looked as if he were about to tear into you. He unzipped your corset, leaving you only in your lace boy shorts and heels. He captured your lips in a soul searing kiss, and if Jimin wasn’t there to hold you up then you surely would have lost your balance. As you two continued to make-out, Jimin started to massage your breasts as he marked up your neck. Taehyung eventually pulled away, and turned you to face Jimin.

“Do you want to feel him inside of you?” Taehyung whispered seductively in your ear, as Jimin continued his assault on your neck.

“Yes daddy.” You moaned out before Jimin started kissing you again. 

He lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed. As he gently laid you down on the pillows, he couldn’t stop kissing you. Eventually pulling away to kiss along your jaw and neck.

“Tell me what you want _______?” He asked in between kisses. His hands gently roaming over your curves, and cupping your breast in his hand. 

“Fuuuck.” You groaned as Jimin’s tongue traced over your pebbled nipple. His free hand dipping beneath your underwear to your dripping slit.

“I want you.” You said before gently pulling him back to your lips.

Jimin quickly rid himself of his slacks and boxer briefs. You were beyond turned on at this point, as you pulled your boy shorts off, dropping them off the side of the bed. Your body was clearly begging for him, and he was oh so willing to obey. Meanwhile, Taehyung was sitting in the armchair that was placed in the corner of your bedroom, watching and waiting intently. Jimin was brought back to your lips, kissing you passionately. He gently kissed his way from your jaw to your neck, slowly sliding his tongue down between your breasts, he stopped just as he got to your pierced naval.

He looked up at you as he started lavishing your inner thighs with wet kisses. Throwing you a sexy smirk when he noticed you looking down at him, and then his head disappeared between your legs. You felt him run his tongue over your wet folds, and latch onto your little ball of nerves. He started to devour you, and you felt like you could black out at any moment. You let out a sharp gasp when you felt him push two fingers into you. You could feel the small knot in your stomach start to clench as he continued to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. 

“Shit!” You moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

His tongue slid smoothly against your clit, driving you insane as the tip of his tongue teased your entrance. Jimin moaned, caressing your thighs, sending the vibrations straight to your core. You cried out as he worked your clit in a circular motion; the tight coil in your lower stomach grew tighter as you started to slowly ride his face.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.” Your one hand clutched the back of Jimin’s head, as the other was gripping the pillow above your head; writhing under the torture of his tongue. You ground down onto his face, expecting him to pull away, but instead he gripped onto to both of your thighs and pulled you closer to his mouth.

“Fucking hell!” You throw your head back, feeling his tongue work over your throbbing clit. 

“Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming! I-I…” Your words were lost in between your hoarse moans, dragging your fingers slowly through his hair. Jimin lapped up your juices greedily before slowly kissing up your body to your lips. You moaned softly, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

“What do you want ____?” Jimin asked as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock. You were so caught up in feeling him against you, you didn’t hear him. 

“If you don’t tell me, I’m going to assume you want me to stop.” Jimin warned.

“Don’t do this to me.” You pleaded as he continued to grind against you. “Fuck! I want you inside of me. Please.” You begged as you slid your hands under his arms and around his back, pulling him against you.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.” Jimin groaned as he slowly pushed into you.

Feeling Jimin inside of you was surreal. After fantasizing about him for so long, you never imagined it would actually happen. And there you were, fucking your boyfriend’s best friend in front of him. Who would have thought? Once you adjusted to him, he started with a slow but steady pace. You couldn’t think straight it felt so good having his body so close to yours. It felt like you were going to internally combust. Jimin gently took hold of your thigh, holding it up over his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so deep.” You moaned breathlessly into his ear. His head was cradled in between your neck and shoulder, placing gentle butterfly kisses against your skin. Inching your thigh higher up, he hit a part of you that made your thighs tremble.

“Right there baby, that’s it!” You moaned as he continued to hit that spot. 

The second orgasm was dangerously close, and you felt your body losing control. He lifted you up so that you were straddling his waist and continued his movements. The room started to spin as you felt your orgasm wash through you. It was like nothing you had ever felt, and the way Jimin kissed you after you both were spent made your heart swell. It was full of passion and dare you say maybe love. A few minutes later after Jimin had gone to get cleaned up, Taehyung got up from the chair. He walked over to the bed and kissed you on your forehead. You opened your eyes and smiled when you saw him. You caressed his face, and noticed the lust-filled look in his eyes. The way he was looking at you, made your cunt ache for him. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’ll let you sleep if you need to.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “It’s okay, I want you. I always want you.”

Taehyung kissed you again before helping you out of bed, leading you to the bathroom. After ridding himself of his slacks, he helped you into the shower. You stood underneath the warm sprays as you let the water relax your muscles. Taehyung turned you to face him, pushing the wet strands of curly hair from your face.

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear before planting a soft kiss on your neck.

You smiled softly, “I love you too.”

When he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist, he captured your lips in a loving kiss. His kisses were much different from Jimin’s, but you were in love with Taehyung so of course it would be different. The kiss eventually turned passionate as he backed you into the tiled wall. You could tell that you were dripping wet again, and this time only Taehyung knew exactly what to do. Pulling away from the kiss and instantly attacking your neck, he lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

You looked into his eyes before kissing him fervently, feeling his dick pushing inside of you. His thrusts pushed harder and deeper inside of you. Your hoarse moans louder, digging your nails into his shoulder when you felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten again.

“You feel so fucking good. Please don’t stop.” You moaned into his ear.

Taehyung continued thrusting relentlessly into you, pushing you closer to the edge. You screamed his name as you came around him. Your whole body was shaking, as you held on to him for dear life. He planted butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulders as he slowly set you back down. When you were finished showering he gave you a quick peck before heading back to the bedroom. After you lotioned up, you slipped on your favorite red lace balconette bra and matching boy shorts. You put your hair up in a messy bun and headed to bed, where Taehyung and Jimin were waiting for you. You bit your bottom lip before crawling up the middle of the bed, settling yourself between your boyfriend and best friend.

Taehyung pulled you closer so that your head was lying on his shoulder, while Jimin wrapped his arm around your waist in a spooning position. You let out a sigh of contentment as you felt sleep take you.

“I love you.” Jimin whispered softly into your hair as he drifted off.

@universoulbeginnings, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[heart-eyes-kippen]

You & I

Hi, pls ignore the fact that this is like two days late okay thank u xx

~

Summary:

“So you’re dragging me to a party this weekend?” 

TJ felt his face warm slightly. “Maybe,” he returned innocently, placing a hand on the locker beside Cyrus. “If you want to, of course.”

(In which TJ's teammates invite him to a party, and one of said teammates doesn't particularly like him and Cyrus together. Cue protective TJ.)

Word Count:  3.2k

AO3 link: (x)

Trigger Warnings: Slight homophobia

~

TJ’s face was still tinged red from the practice he’d just had as his eyes landed on Cyrus, who stood at the end of the corridor. A smile came to his lips and he quickened his pace, planning on calling out something sappy about missing him for the hour they’d been apart, only to be cut short by the sounds of hurried footsteps approaching behind him. He let out a heavy sigh and turned around, in time to see a group of his teammates all jogging after him with grins spread across their faces. 

 He rolled his eyes, trying hard to radiate the energy of someone who definitely wasn't the mood to exchange friendly small talk on a Friday afternoon, but the boys were either oblivious or they didn’t care. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was the latter. 

 “Kippen! Guess what?” 

 Glancing wistfully back at his boyfriend, he answered with a somewhat distracted “what?”

 “We’re having a party this weekend to celebrate the game!” announced John, garnering a few nods from the others, “I know it’s last minute, but you have to come dude, there’s no way we would’ve won without you.”

 TJ scanned over the group for a moment, narrowing his eyes, before giving a shrug. “Okay, sure.”

 Shock registered briefly on John’s face, and TJ couldn’t blame him. He loved his teammates, but he never quite felt comfortable at the events they would always plan, surrounded very obviously by all of their girlfriends while he didn’t have one. Rationally, he knew they probably didn’t take much notice, but his brain managed to convince him each time that they’d somehow figure out he didn’t like girls.

 John ran a hand through his hair then, face lit up by a smile. “Great! I’ll text you the details. You can invite a partner, obviously,” he said, dropping a wink, and TJ let a laugh that sounded uncomfortable even to his own ears.

 He bit his lip before glancing back once more at Cyrus, who seemed to have found interest in his phone. 

 “Um,” he hesitated, and all of their expectant gazes were suddenly on him again. 

 He took in a breath, trying desperately to keep his tone even. “Could I invite my boyfriend?”

 The split second of silence that followed those words felt like an eternity. He was looking back at eight expressions that had twisted into shock now, and he could feel his heart thudding away rapidly as he awaited the reaction. The corridors were empty at this stage in the afternoon, which made that second all the more agonising. 

 A grin appeared on John’s face. “Of course, dude! You didn’t tell me you’re finally dating someone!”

 “Yeah, I was beginning to think you just didn’t have any game, Kippen,” Ben added, and TJ couldn’t help but laugh.

 “You guys are assholes, you know that?” he told them, trying to mask the relief that had crashed over him.

 The only person that didn’t seem to be smiling anymore was Flynn, but TJ forcibly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. They’d had a few clashes in the past after all, and he couldn’t help but think that Flynn didn’t exactly want him at their team party, despite trying to act like he did.

 He exchanged a few more words with the group before heading over to his previous destination, where was Cyrus smiling as he leaned up against his locker. 

 “So you’re dragging me to a party this weekend?” 

 TJ felt his face warm slightly. “Maybe,” he returned innocently, placing a hand on the locker beside Cyrus. “If you want to, of course.” 

 The boy considered this for a moment, still smiling as he pushed himself off of the locker and right into TJ’s arms. 

 “Only if you don’t get completely drunk,” he murmured, arms wrapping around his boyfriend’s waist.

 TJ scoffed at that, but his expression was fond as he looked down at Cyrus. 

 “Pft, when have I ever gotten completely drunk?” 

 Cyrus arched an eyebrow. “Does calling me at 3 am to let me know that you adopted a duck by the lake ring any bells?” 

 “None,” said TJ, although the lie was obvious to both of them and it had Cyrus giving him an amused eye roll. 

 They were on their way soon enough, stepping out into the pleasant summer air hand in hand.

 “You owe me a dinosaur documentary,” Cyrus told him seriously. 

 “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” he grinned back, “I love seeing you get excited over pre-historic lizards that could kill you.” 

 For a moment or two, the boy tried to bite back a smile, but he lost the fight as he leaned over to press a soft kiss to TJ’s cheek. 

 “I'll ignore that comment because you wove a compliment into it somehow.”

 ~

 Wispy clouds were drifting peacefully close to the horizon, tinged a deep red by the fading sky behind it. The bustling sounds of cars driving home on the main road reached the large house TJ and Cyrus were stood at, flushed slightly from the rush to get there. 

 “What is it with us and being fashionably late?” TJ asked him, somewhat breathlessly. 

 He looked over at Cyrus, who’s hair looked lighter than it did normally due to the warm sunlight hitting it. For a moment or two, TJ was slightly caught up in how downright ethereal his boyfriend looked during golden hour, so much so that he completely missed what the boy had said. 

 “Earth to TJ?” 

 TJ blushed slightly, which added to the red on his cheeks.

 “Sorry,” he apologised, clearly not meaning it in the slightest, “just admiring.” 

 As Cyrus gave his chest a playful swat the door swung open to reveal John, who’s eyes were glazed over in a way that seemed to suggest he’d already begun drinking. 

 “TJ! Cyrus!” he cheered, holding out a fist. 

 TJ‘s eyes shone with amusement as he accepted the fist-bump, and soon enough they were being ushered into a crowded living room that was sparsely furnished; a leather couch in the corner, a large TV on the wall and an empty bookshelf beside it. A square section of the tiles had been transformed into a dance floor, where there were already what looked like about a dozen people moving about wildly. With the blinds drawn shut the main sources of light were the coloured ones flashing above their heads.

 “It’s only 8 pm,” Cyrus laughed as they watched various red solo cups leave the kitchen.

 TJ shrugged as he took the boy’s hand. “It’s never too early to have fun.”

 The pair wove in out of the talking groups that had accumulated around the dance floor, with TJ guiding Cyrus through. They came to an abrupt stop however as Flynn stepped out in front of them. 

 His gaze settled on their hands for a moment. It burned a little too much for TJ’s liking, but he really wasn’t in the mood to think about that so he forced a smile onto his lips. Cyrus seemed to pick up the sudden tension that had appeared in the air because TJ felt him squeeze his hand reassuringly.

 “So this must be Cyrus! I’ve seen you around before. You’re friends with that boy who plays frisbee, right? And the girl that started that dress code protest?”

 Cyrus’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but other than that he remained neutral. 

 “That’s me,” he confirmed, and TJ bit his lip to will down the sudden anger that appeared inside of him. He knew well that Cyrus didn’t like being reduced down to his friends. 

 “I think we were actually gonna get some drinks now, weren’t we?”

 Cyrus nodded frantically, and Flynn stepped aside with a scoff. 

 “I’m guessing TJ’s the man of the relationship, then.”

 He ignored the remark completely as Cyrus began tugging him towards the kitchen. It was dark, which meant they had to fumble around for a light switch, but soon enough they were being met with a few cases of varying alcoholic drinks, all of which were stacked neatly upon the marble counter. 

 “Who’s gonna tell him that you’re the one who’s scared of horror movies?” Cyrus asked him, breaking the silence. 

 TJ let out an amused huff. “I think he’s just trying to get to me,” he said, as he moved forward to examine the cases, “he’s wanted to be the team captain since forever.”

 Cyrus stepped forward to stand beside him, linking their arms. “I haven’t focused on him much during games, but I’m almost certain you’re better.”

 TJ laughed softly. “Thanks, babe. You might be ever so slightly biased, but I’ll accept that anyway.” 

 He pulled out two bottles of apple cider after a moment and handed one over to the boy. 

 Cyrus accepted it, albeit hesitantly. “Is this alcoholic?” he asked.

 “Kind of, but it’s not that much, I promise. Out of all these things, it probably tastes the best.” 

 He stared down at it, before shrugging. “Okay.” 

 Once they’d opened the bottles and headed back out into the living room, it seemed even more people had come in. TJ could officially say that it wasn’t just his teammates and their girlfriends anymore.

 He wrapped a protective arm around Cyrus as they navigated the crowd, lights flashing obnoxiously above their head. The pop music pulsed from the speakers, reverberating from the walls with how loud it was. 

 “Let's go drink these on that couch!” TJ yelled, and Cyrus nodded. 

 The leather was cool beneath their skin, and it was small enough so that it barely fit the pair of them. Cyrus ended up on his lap after a few minutes, sipping away at his cider as they talked. 

 TJ kept catching Flynn’s eye from across the room, and each time he did his stomach would turn. The look on Flynn’s face wasn’t necessarily one of disgust. In fact, it seemed a lot more like discomfort - as if he couldn’t keep his eyes from dragging over to them. 

 “Is he staring at us?” he heard Cyrus murmur.

 TJ nodded, running a hand absent-mindedly along the boy’s arm. “Yeah. I think so.” 

 They waited a moment longer, not speaking, before Flynn pushed his way to another area on the dance floor and began talking to a few teammates. 

 “What’s his deal?” asked Cyrus, voice tinged somehow with both annoyance and fear. 

 “It’s definitely me, not you. Don’t worry about it,” said TJ, and the boy just nodded. 

 They reverted back to discussing Doctor Who as they finished their drinks, and despite the relatively small amount of alcohol he’d consumed TJ could feel a warmth spreading through his body that relaxed his muscles and made his words flow more easily. 

 The night drew on slowly, and eventually, John began refusing people at the door to ensure his house didn’t become too crowded. The flashing lights stood out a lot more distinctly against the dark now that a few hours had passed since sunset. He could feel Flynn’s gaze on them almost constantly, burning holes into them both, and when Cyrus began to get visibly uncomfortable he guided him back to the kitchen. 

 Cyrus was about 2 ciders in at this point, while TJ was about 5 in, causing the room to blur by in somewhat of a haze. He wasn’t completely drunk, however, and he planned on keeping it that way. 

 “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t know why he keeps staring.” 

 He was stood in front of the counter where Cyrus was sat, his arms rested on TJ’s shoulders. 

 The boy smiled, as warmly as the sun outside had been just hours ago, and TJ’s heart melted into a puddle. 

 “It’s okay,” Cyrus murmured, bringing a hand up to gently cup the side of his face. 

 TJ leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut, and when he sensed that Cyrus was leaning in he leaned in too.

 Flynn’s voice filled the kitchen just as their lips were about to meet, making them both jump apart. 

 “Oh, sorry guys,” he said, in a tone that seemed to suggest he wasn’t sorry at all. He moved over casually to the cases and chose a small bottle of vodka, filling one of the few plastic shot glasses with it.

 None of them spoke for a few uncomfortable moments, then TJ was clearing his throat and helping Cyrus down from the counter. Wordlessly, they entered the living room, confronted by the pulsing music once more.

 “Another dance?” Cyrus asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

 TJ wasn’t usually one to dance, but there was cider flowing through him and with Cyrus his inhibitions generally seemed to be nonexistent,  so he ended up following his boyfriend to the dance floor. He knew their cheesy dancing would’ve stuck out very obviously to any on-lookers, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on the adorable sound of Cyrus’ laughter, which blended right into the music, and the even more adorable way he held onto TJ’s hand as he spun around.

 They were so caught up in one another for the next 20 minutes or so that all thoughts about Flynn slipped their minds, returning only once they’d retreated back to the leather couch, faces flushed red. John approached them where they sat, appearing more sober now than he had a few hours ago. The expression on his face seemed serious, and it had TJ’s stomach twisting as he looked up at the boy. 

 “Are you okay?” he asked. 

 John’s sigh was covered up by the music, and he gestured wordlessly towards a door that was tucked away in the corner of the living room. TJ and Cyrus exchanged a confused glance, but followed him regardless as he began to head over to it. 

 When the door had shut behind them with a soft thud, the music became muffled. They were stood in a dimly light garage, beside a car he could barely make out. 

 “Sorry, I know it’s cold in here,” said John.

 TJ hadn’t even registered that fact until he heard those words, and a glance down at his arms confirmed that goosebumps were beginning to rise along his skin. He shuddered, and drew Cyrus in close when he noticed the boy looked cold too.

 “I just...” John paused for a moment, sighing, “I just thought you guys should know that Flynn is talking about you to other people. I tried to tell him it wasn’t cool, but...”

 TJ’s face hardened, and Cyrus placed a gentle hand on his chest as though reminding him to remain calm.

 “What’s he been saying?” he asked. 

 John’s gaze shifted away from them. “He...well...he just thinks it’s ‘uncomfortable’ apparently that you guys are here together, but no one agrees with him, I swear! He’s saying some stuff about Cyrus too, but...I don’t wanna repeat it.” 

 TJ nodded slowly, processing the words for a moment. He flashed John a tight-lipped smile.

 “Thanks for telling me. I’ll be right back.” 

 He headed straight for the door, but Cyrus grabbed onto the boy’s arm.

 “TJ, you can’t just go punching people!” 

 He turned back to Cyrus, expression soft. “I’m not punching anyone, I promise. But...I can’t let him say stuff about you, okay? I just can’t.” 

 Cyrus scanned his face for a moment, the ghost of a smile flickering over his lips, before letting go of TJ’s arm. 

 “Okay.” 

 Loud pop music rang in his ears once more as he opened the door to the garage again, practically storming out onto the dance floor. Cyrus and John exchanged a glance as they trailed behind, weaving through the dancing crowds. 

 Flynn was easy to spot - he was tall after all - and he was leant back against a wall by the kitchen, talking to a girl he couldn’t recognise.

 TJ approached him, feeling anger begin to bubble up inside him.

 “Flynn.” 

 The boy turned, and shock registered briefly on his face. The girl gave him a glance, before slipping back into the crowds. Flynn tipped his head back, sculling what remained of his drink, before directing a grin at TJ. 

 “Kippen. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

 “If you have shit to say about me or my boyfriend, maybe you should say it to my face instead of whispering about it at a party.” 

 He raised an eyebrow at that, looking infuriatingly smug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

 “Dude,” John piped up, stepping forward to stand beside TJ, “you know exactly what he’s talking about.” 

 Flynn stumbled slightly as he stepped forward, and it was then that it hit TJ just how much the boy had drunk. 

 “You know, I didn’t think you were prissy enough Kippen, but,” he paused for a moment, smiling, “apparently you are. Who knew?”

 TJ gave him a glare. “Say whatever you want about me, but leave my boyfriend out of it.” 

 The people around them seemed clueless to what was happening now that the alcohol was well and truly flowing, passing by casually to get to the kitchen. 

 Flynn smirked. “What are you gonna do? Kick me off the team for having beliefs?” 

 “No,” TJ sighed, exasperated now more than anything, “I’m not gonna kick you off the team. I’d just appreciate if you kept my boyfriend out of your shit talk, seeing as he’s literally never done anything to you.” 

 “Whatever, Kippen. I’ll do what I want,” he scoffed, forcibly pushing past both of them. 

 John’s face fell as he turned to the pair. “I’m sorry, guys.”

 TJ looked after the boy, practically fuming, until he felt a gentle hand being placed on his shoulder. Cyrus was smiling softly, and his anger faded in an instant.

 “Let’s go,” he murmured. 

 TJ nodded in agreement, directing his gaze towards John. “Thanks for inviting us, dude.” 

 “No problem,” he replied. “I’m sorry about...you know...” 

 TJ just waved him off. “It wasn’t your fault, don’t worry.” 

 Cyrus was guiding him through the crowd this time as they made their way over to the front door, pushing past it and stepping out into the cool evening air. The pulsing sounds of pop music eventually faded away, and the silence around them was filled instead by chirping crickets. 

 TJ gave the boy a confused smile when he stopped suddenly, turning to face him. 

 “What is it?” he asked. 

 Cyrus just shook his head, stepping up to him and looping his arms around TJ’s neck. 

 His smile was as gentle as the summer breeze gusting by them, and for about the hundredth time that day he had to stop for a moment to admire the beauty that was Cyrus Goodman. 

 “I love you,” Cyrus whispered. 

 TJ’s immediately face brightened. He forgot all about Flynn as he lifted Cyrus up, smiling fondly when he began to giggle.

 “I love you too,” he murmured, taking in every detail of the boy’s face that he possibly could.

 Cyrus let out a content sigh, before leaning in to connect their lips.

 And so, when TJ thought back to that summer’s night, he didn’t think of his fight with Flynn. 

 He thought of the glowing smile that had appeared on Cyrus’ face when TJ told him he loved him, the peaceful stillness that had surrounded them, and the streetlamp that had illuminated them amongst the darkness as they stood alone.

 A much more pleasant thought if you asked TJ.

[devnny]

CHAPTER TWELVE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!!! it’s 6k fucking words too, jeezus lord. at least its cute, and sad, and cute.

the events of my old ass drabble TOUCH. is mentioned briefly in this chapter too, should you have not read that and would care to :]c ANYWAY, ENJOY

[Dear Diary,

I had another dream about killing Devi.

They’ve become too vivid… I’m growing more and more worried that my mind will blur fantasy with reality, and I’ll attack her thinking it’s a dream. I don’t know why I would do that… I don’t want to attack her. I don’t want to hurt her, ever.

So, as a precaution, I’ve decided that I won’t be sleeping anymore. Staying awake is all that I can do combat these shitty nightmares.]

--

Johnny scratched the final letter of his latest diary entry firmly into the paper’s face, then closed the cover quietly. He tucked the book under his chair, careful to not alert Devi, who was painting a few feet away, that he was making any unusual movements.

He felt badly to keep these dreams a secret from her, since he was confident that Meat was interfering with his sleep somehow, but he buried those prickly feelings of guilt to the best of his ability. The only other reason for these reoccurring nightmares would be that he, in fact, was thinking them up all on his own, which was even worse as far as Johnny was concerned. Either way, he was terrified that if he mentioned it to Devi that she would again grow suspicious of him.

After regaining so much of her trust, it would kill him inside to see her hesitate to accept his company, or linger on her words or her decisions in what she allowed him to do with her, all because he wasn’t in control of his subconscience. Very few people were able to control their unconscious mind, but Johnny still felt immensely paranoid that Devi wouldn’t be understanding, regardless of if it would be because of actual resentment, or simply out of fear, even though she would still want to trust him. That might sting even worse, actually.

They had built such a comforting routine in her home; working away on creative endeavors together at all hours, and enjoying each other’s company over shared meals and television in their downtime. It was so soothing, bidding her ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ each day. Devi’s sleep schedule had returned to its atrociously inconsistent cycle since he moved in with her, so sometimes he would be saying ‘goodnight’ at 5PM, and other times saying ‘good morning’ at 5PM, but it was gratifying all the same. He didn’t know, after he was ‘better’ and was supposed to return to his own house, how he would go through each day without being able to offer her such daily pleasantries. Maybe he would be able to do so over the phone, he thought, but it wouldn’t be the same.

His eyes lifted from the scantily-worked-on page that was fastened to his drafting table and settled on Devi’s kneeling figure a short distance away. Johnny smiled to see the small smirk on her face while she blotted color across her canvas. She had been toiling away on this commissioned work for almost a week now, and she always seemed to enter some kind of frenzied state whenever she was nearing a piece’s completion. It was a large project, she had told him, and would offer her a very hefty paycheck once it was finished. Maybe it was the thought of money that pushed her into such an energetic fit of creation – Johnny could only speculate. She grinned and rubbed a bit of paint from her cheek as she stepped back to review her efforts.

His lips pursed into a longer smile; how could he even consider sullying her mood by bringing up useless things like night terrors? He couldn’t. He would handle this himself, and leave Devi to her work.

--

DAYS LATER:

Devi beamed, squiggling her brush down her canvas to the rhythm of the song she currently had blasting from the speakers of her art room. Nothing was more satisfying than going to the bank and depositing a nice, big, fucking check, and she could only express her delight by jumping right into a personal project as soon as she and Johnny had returned home. It felt so good to have enough money, for the time being, to indulge in painting what she wanted to for more than an hour.

“Hey!” Johnny’s voice piped up over the music, and Devi turned to see him pull his headphones off of one of his ears. His headphones were his only defense against her deafening taste in music, so it must be important. Devi searched the floor for the dinky little remote that controlled the speakers, and lowered the volume to a reasonable level.

“Yeah?” She grinned at him, and he met her smile with one of his own.

“Can you hold your arm out like ‘this’ for me?” Johnny stuck his arm out and twisted it downwards in a fist to give her an example. Devi scoffed, used to him asking her to pose for reference by now, and tried to mimic what he had requested.

“Like that?”

“Ummm, no, down a little more. Ehhh—” He wiggled his fist in her direction. “—put your shoulder up more, maybe? Give me… ‘intimidating’.”

Devi laughed.

“Shut the Hell up.” She huffed a few chuckles and brought her shoulder up as instructed.

“YES. HOLD THAT.” Johnny exclaimed and hurriedly resumed his sketching. Devi’s smile remained while she watched him work.

She had to admit she was proud of how far he had come since this whole thing started – he hardly ever devolved into a crying mess when his drawings weren’t progressing to his liking anymore. The last time Devi remembered him throwing a fit was shortly after the ‘leash and collar’ situation began, and she figured that that was more out of pent up frustration for that small bit of humiliation, and not so much because he was a creative loose-cannon.

The way his tongue poked out while he drew was a little more endearing suddenly, but Devi dismissed the thought, chalking it up to the current carefree feeling in the air. The evening was set to be lighthearted the moment she had gotten paid; the plan was to have whatever the fuck she wanted for dinner, and then binge-watch the entire movie series of The Beast What Licked Me, which was the main trilogy and all of its subsequent, horrible spinoff movies by less-than-admirable production studios. Devi smiled at the idea of having fun for once.

“You know, the lofty smile doesn’t really give me that ‘intimidating’ vibe.” Johnny spoke with a teasing laugh, earning a dismissive, blithe scoff from his model.

“Shut your mouth—aren’t you hungry yet?” Devi snorted, wriggling her shoulder to rib at him further. He stuck the end of his pencil into his lip curiously.

“Are you?”

“Sure, and I think my hand’s had enough painting for one day.” She straightened her posture with a widening grin. “You done?”

“Well, I am for now, if that’s alright with my, er, mentor…” Johnny replied with the question in his stare, and Devi snickered again.

“You are excused for the evening. Now, let’s order Chinese, for delivery. I don’t feel like leaving the house again today.” Devi mused while she walked out of the room. Johnny smiled giddily at the comment – one trip outside was enough for one day, he’d agree wholeheartedly!

--

FIFTEEN-MINUTES-OR-LESS LATER:

Johnny threw the wad of cash that Devi had so-entrusted him with directly into the delivery boy’s face, knocking him over with the force of the impact as he snatched the take-out bag from him. He slammed the door shut callously, and hummed in approval at the now familiar smell of Devi’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

He strode to the kitchen with it, and began laying out the bag’s drippy contents onto the counter. He jumped when he felt something jab into his side, but hardly had to turn his head before he recognized Devi’s head peeking into his peripheral. She gave him a cheeky grin, and he smiled back shyly.

“You’re already finished showering?”

“Yeah, heh, just needed to rinse off that outside-world smell.” She crossed her arms over one of his shoulders as she leaned to see what he was doing. “…Why’d you bother bringing the food in here?”

Johnny gesticulated his hands loosely around the counterspace as he attempted to explain, but it was difficult with Devi touching him.

“WELL, it’s—” Another swat of his hands. “…greasy!”

Devi snortled and slid off of his shoulder, giving his back an additional plap with her palm before moving to inspect tonight’s dinner. She popped open one of the containers and couldn’t help but jam a pair of chopsticks into it right away, scooping a pile of noodles into her mouth happily.

She exhaled contently through her nose while she chewed, then turned a curious eye to Johnny, who was picking at the fabric of his shirt where she had just been pressed against him. It was only for a second, but it was enough to take notice of before he tilted to look through the boxes and find which one was his entrée. Devi swallowed, and watched his thin fingers play with the lids while she thought.

When had she gotten so comfortable with touching him? It had been a long time since physical contact with anyone had been so nonchalant for her. If she could guess, it was probably due to the whole ‘close proximity of the leash’ thing, or maybe the whole ‘living together’ thing, but either way it was bizarre that she hadn’t realized how casual things had become until she noticed Johnny’s slight change in demeanor in response to it.

One wouldn’t have to ask Johnny ‘when’ the touching started; he could tell you with one-hundred percent certainty that it was the night that they went to pick up a few groceries from a nearby 24/7. Devi had approached him, and set a hand on his arm for an undiscernible amount of seconds while she spoke to him – undiscernible because his brain had just about exploded from the direct contact. He had returned the casual touching with a modest hand on her shoulder, and she hadn’t killed him for it. Johnny would probably remember that night for the rest of his existence.

But Devi was left to ponder at what point she had regrown enough trust for him to poke and prod at him without wanting to carve her own skin off afterward. He was a lot less horrible now, and she enjoyed his company again, so she supposed that said something, at least. She shrugged it off and stuffed a piece of chicken in her mouth.

“You ready to get this hideous marathon underway?” Devi asked while she chewed. Johnny carefully lifted the top off of the horrendously spicy dish he’d ordered.

“Yes!” He beamed at her eagerly, brandishing a spork as though it was a beacon for his well-equipped-ness for the evening.

--

FIVE MOVIES IN:

“Oouughh…” Devi vocalized her agony with her fingers pressed to her sore eyes.

“Yeah, that FX make-up is garbage. Worse than the one in Spawn of The Beast What Licked Me.” Johnny replied lazily from his side of the couch, half-melted into the cushion. Though his corneas burned just as badly, the pain didn’t register with him the same way.

“No,” Devi griped. “my eyes are killing me…”

A yawn punctuated her complaint, and Johnny lifted his head attentively. She was tired. He’d come to learn the signs of her exhaustion quite well, and despite his current feelings about sleep, rest appeared to do Devi some good.

“Are you going to go to bed?” He asked and reset his head onto the back cushion of the couch comfortably. Devi peeked at him from the armrest on the opposite side, where she had devolved into a lumpy ball as the night wore on. Her ear pressed into the cushy fabric, and she slanted her mouth in discontent.

She didn’t particularly want to go to sleep. There was only one more movie to go, and it felt weak as Hell to give up now when she was so close to the end of a movie binge. Devi lulled her head in the direction of the TV, and winced away in regret when the flashing light burned her eyes.

“Ugh.” She grunted in defeat. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We can finish these last two tomorrow.” Johnny offered to ease her frustration, and Devi smirked through her exhaustion.

“Yeah, okay.” She agreed and rolled into a seated position. She struggled to stand with her tired legs, but managed to force herself up.

One of her hands came down to point at Johnny as she passed him, her finger hovering just out of reach of his nose.

“—And don’t you dare watch ahead.” Devi smiled despite her threatening tone. “You turn that shit off, you don’t get to watch without me.”

Johnny grinned uneasily, half of him delighted at how she joked with him.

“Yes, of course.” He assured her, and Devi nodded appreciatively before hobbling off to bed. Johnny watched her door click shut, then searched for the remote and turned the TV off.

His body slumped against the couch, the satisfied feeling in his torso weighing him down into its pillows. He debated what he could do for the rest of the night with his lazy, fried brain. The dull feeling in his arms made drawing seem impossible, and he didn’t want to turn on the TV again until he was sure Devi was soundly asleep. So he laid on the couch and thought to pass the time.

It didn’t take long for his thoughts to turn to Devi, and he smiled comfortably as he reviewed the day’s events. Johnny laced his fingers over his chest and contemplated if their relationship would progress further than this, or if it had reached it’s peak at her not hating him and offering him passing physical contact. He was perfectly happy with how things were now, but he would have said the same thing about her begrudgingly tolerating his company two months ago. Now he couldn’t imagine going back to that time and being satisfied without her smile, or laughter, or rib jabbing.

A sigh slipped past his lips as he smooshed further into the couch at the memory of her forearms crossed over his shoulders early this evening. It was so nice. Everything was so nice now; he felt like he could exist like this forever. The impermanence of his situation was lost from his mind for the time being, and he nestled his brow into the cushion while he let his tender thoughts carry his brain away.

Without realizing, his eyes slowly began to settle closed, and he drifted into an impromptu nap.

--

Johnny reaffixed his grip on the handle of his knife, the tendons there further visible under the gaunt skin of his hand. He would usually wear gloves for something like this – it was so messy – but a kill such as this one, that was so personal and passionate in nature, had no room for measures of tidiness.

She deserved this so much; she was so mean. Cruel. She never treated him like this before, when they had their nice, engaging conversations at the bookstore. Everything was so pleasant then. He could still imagine her, with her short black hair and uniform apron, and her dark, painted lips that made his heart go berserk when they tilted up into a smile for him. Him, bringing a smile to someone else’s face. How abnormal.

His own mouth twitched upwards more, making his grin look more unhinged than it already did. The little spatters of blood on his cheeks and nose smeared under the creases it brought.

Devi lay below him – on the floor, if he wasn’t mistaken – looking up at him in fear. He’d only stabbed her a few times so far, but Johnny could tell by the terror in her eyes that she knew those wouldn’t be the only ones. He crouched over her form, as he had over so many others, and held her shoulder with his left hand while the right started its habitual swinging.

The blade plunged into her chest again, marring her shirt with another bloody hole. Then another, and another. He could feel the flexible bones of her ribcage bend under the base of his palm, compressed by the weight of his blows.

It felt so GOOD. She earned all of these! All of her stabbing, painful comments – she should have expected this outcome. This new, purple-haired, pigtailed Devi was not the one he cared so much for; she was a demon! A bastardized version of his Devi; one that smirked coolly at him as though she owned him; one that barraged him with pointless tests and berated him with cutting words when he failed.

“You deserve this!” Johnny breathed, digging the knife into her torso again. Devi did little to stop him, as she had so far, and only looked at him painfully. YES! She deserved this pain!

“You deserve this – you deserve this—!” He ranted, continuing to repeat the phrase over and over as he stabbed her. He watched her eyes – those pretty, green eyes – filled with hurt.

But it wasn’t the hurt that he had originally thought.

It wasn’t like the looks his other victims gave him, eyes filled with tears from the physical agony they were in. It wasn’t even the same as the horror he’d seen on her face before, when he had lunged at her in his home. Johnny’s smile slowly began to drop, seeing the unusual emotion in Devi’s eyes. She looked at him with so much betrayal – almost longingly, as if to ask “Why?”, or to say, “How could you?”.

Why wasn’t she fighting him? She should be able to get away. She’s always gotten away from him – always refused to be a victim to him. Why was she just LAYING there, letting him kill her?

That’s what he was doing. He was KILLING HER.

Devi seemed to acknowledge her impending death at the same time he had, and her expression grew wearier. Johnny felt anxiety rapidly mounting inside him, and only removed his fixation away from her face when he felt her hand gingerly grip at his fist. He looked down and watched her fingers, matted with blood, trying as best as they could to grasp onto him. He also realized that he was still holding the knife firmly in her sternum.

With a jolt of fear, he yanked the knife away, and Devi cried out for the first time that he could remember. It made him drop his weapon, and settle both hands onto her shoulders.

He yelped her name, as if that would do any good. What had he done? He had killed her – she was dying. He didn’t want to believe it, and the sound of her labored breathing brought him to tears. This shouldn’t be happening – Devi had helped him. She offered him so much of her; her time, her support, her home – and he had reduced her into a gored mass on her bedroom floor.

No, no, no. This wasn’t right. He wanted to scream and sob, but that would do nothing to fix this.

A sticky sensation on his cheek brought him out of his panic, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s hand, wet from her own blood. Despite the slippery, unpleasant feeling of the blood, Johnny was drawn to the delicate touch of her fingers, and tried to lean into them despite the weakness in her digits. He wanted her palm – he wanted it to cradle his cheek, and indulge in the forbade softness from her that he himself had ruined his chances of.

Johnny didn’t get what he wanted, of course. Devi’s hand slowly dropped away from his face, lingering until all the strength left her limbs, and her arm fell to her bloodied stomach. Johnny refused to take his eyes off of hers, and the anxiety he felt previously worked into a massive ball of dread as he saw the glint in Devi’s eyes begin to dull.

No, no, no, no—

--

Johnny almost gagged from the abrupt force of the gasp that brought him back to consciousness. His leg kicked out, knocking over some empty containers and cans that had been left on the coffee table, and he scampered away from the sound with startled fear. A hand came up to palm away the wet lines that streaked down his cheekbones, but cold tears were the least of his concerns with his lungs beating air out of him faster than he could bring it in. Johnny tried to gather himself and calm his breathing down, but his heart wouldn’t allow it, and continued pounding against the walls of its boney prison like a furious captive.

His eyes shook with anxiety as his pupils flashed from side to side, trying to use some amount of logic amongst his hysteria to convince himself everything was fine, and that his panic was just the result of another Godawful nightmare. Johnny noted the dark living room, the messy table, the quiet television set; nothing amiss or broken, nothing to indicate that anything in the apartment was any different from any other night, besides his quaking form bundled up on the sofa.

He turned his attention to Devi’s bedroom door, and his haggard breaths immediately stopped. Her door was ajar. He had never seen her door open when she was sleeping, ever.

A shaky inhale sucked down his throat, and he started shivering from his shoulders down his arms and to his stomach. There was a sudden, paralyzing feeling of nausea woven through his guts, and it was almost painful to make his knees lift him into a standing position, like forcing a rusted bolt to twist. He couldn’t get his back to straighten fully as he stood, so he crept with a nervous hunch in his shoulders toward Devi’s bedroom.

Johnny swallowed past the dry flesh of his mouth as he reached the threshold of the doorway. His breath trembled again; he was terrified that upon pushing open the door fully, he would find Devi’s lifeless body on the floor, right where he had ‘dreamed’ it was. He couldn’t bear the thought that his worst fear had come to fruition – that his crappy, broken mind failed to recognize reality from fantasy, and either it, or Meat, had tricked him into murdering Devi with a rage that he didn’t even have for her.

Despite his paralyzing fear, his hand settled onto the front of the door, and he creaked it open slowly. Johnny shakingly took a step inside, and even with the only light in the room being the dim reflection of a billboard outside, he could tell that there was nothing on the floor besides the usual scattered belongings. Certainly no bodies, and definitely not the one that belonged to Devi.

He brought his attention up to her bed, and his lips wibbled fearfully at the unidentifiable shape under the purple covers. He could see what would be assumed to be Devi’s head poking out of the lump, resting on a pillow, but that was all. Johnny gulped quietly again. His paranoia couldn’t let him leave it at that – he had to make sure that she was well, instead of just assuming she was sleeping peacefully.

He hurried to the side of the bed, and stared down with wide, fearful eyes at her neutral face that was tucked so snugly behind her curled hand. She wasn’t making any sounds, and he couldn’t tell with his own body shaking the way it was, if she was breathing or not. He continued staring, trying with all his might to determine if her body was rising and falling with lifegiving breath, and only grew more and more panicked the longer he couldn’t stop trembling and focus enough to confirm it.

With a renewed burst of anxiety, Johnny shot forward, jabbing a knee into the fluff of her comforter. He grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her awake with terrified urgency, unable to think of any other way to quell his fears fast enough. Devi’s eyes opened right away, rattling around in her aching head with confused alarm until she heard Johnny’s wailing.

“DEVI! DEVI, DEVI—!” His face pinched miserably as he saw her irises flicker into view and focus squarely on him. His fingers tightened onto her shoulders further as his began to shake again, and he drooped like a dejected, wilted flower against her collar. He continued calling her name, but his voice garbled as he deteriorated into sobs.

It took Devi a moment to register what the Hell was going on, but her shocked expression melted into a tired, exasperated one as she realized Johnny was just having a fit about something, again.

“Nny—Nny!” She tried to urge him out of his crying with a few shoves on the arm, but Johnny only continued blubbering. He was trying desperately to explain himself, Devi could gather that much, but he was completely incoherent. She sighed in exhaustion, desperate to calm him and go the fuck back to bed.

“Johnny,” She set a hand on his head, lazily leading it to lay flat on her mattress. “relax, please. Relax.”

Johnny, whose figure had been half-collapsed on her bed already, buckled from his distress, and he laid loosely at her side like a ragdoll.

“—you were dead, you were dead—!” He managed to blather out, and Devi sighed again. She assumed that this was the result of another nightmare he had, and papped his hair with as much sympathy as she was willing to muster in her fatigued state.

“I’m not dead, Nny. I’m fine… see…?” She mumbled with her eyes closed. Johnny stifled his crying as he tried to accept what she was telling him, but even with the affirmation that she was alive and well, he couldn’t stop his body’s pitiful reaction to fear. He hadn’t been so terrified in a long while – he couldn’t even remember what he would do to ease the feeling before.

A sudden sensation against his hairline startled him out of his grim thoughts, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s thumb idly brushing against his skin and into his hair. He stared at the sheets in surprise, unable to do much else besides focus on the strange scratching at his skull. Slowly, his eyelids lowered, but his somber expression remained. Johnny brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, hoping the pressure would help him relax.

Devi’s fingers stilled after a minute, and he felt her wrist settle loosely on his temple, then eventually slip lower until her forearm rested across the side of his neck. He sniffed, and bent his head down more, but instead of his forehead settling onto his kneecaps, it was obstructed by something warm and flat.

Johnny tilted his head up at an angle, and was surprised to see that what he’d bumped into was Devi’s collar – or rather, the area right below her collar. Her sternum; the bone that he had so viciously impaled with a knife several times in his newest dream. Guilt demanded that he pull his head away from where it rested, but as he turned his head, his ear pressed against her and he felt the light thumping of her heart tickle at his skin. Johnny froze, and his stillness offered him the full, uninterrupted rhythm of Devi’s heartbeat.

Even with his own heart pumping erratically, the sound of Devi’s heart was so audible and loud to the ear that was currently resting against her chest. It was just like any heartbeat, he supposed, but it was so calm and steady, much in contrast to his own which was still wild from coming down off of terror-induced adrenaline. The stable rhythm slowly began to calm him, and he took deep solace in the fact that as long as he could hear that drumming in his ear, it meant that she was alive. He curled further into himself, making sure that his temple was still pressed firmly against her collar.

Johnny chastised himself for a moment, trying to argue through his emotional exhaustion that this was, to some extent, inappropriate, and that now that he knew Devi was safe, he should leave her to rest. But he couldn’t resist the lure of Devi’s soft skin on his cheek, or her arm that was draped over his head, that made him feel oh-so cozy and secure. His eyes settled shut, and with a few lingering post-sobbing sniffs, slipped back into sleep.

--

THE FOLLOWING MORNING:

Devi mumbled in the back of her throat as she roused from slumber. There was still a dull ache in her brain, and she wasn’t currently at all fond of the idea of opening her eyes or waking up. Her lip twitched at a weird texture flittering against it, and she snorted to encourage whatever it was to fuck off. Her breathing started to slow again, but after a moment, the tickling feeling moved up to her nose, making it curl and huff in annoyance.

She brushed the unknown irritant away with her hand, and opened her eyes bitterly as she accepted that going back to sleep wasn’t going to happen now. She stretched her back out with a groaning sigh, and brought the same hand up to rub her face clear of any grogginess. As she did, the tuft of annoying, plumy things that had woken her up settled back against her mouth. Devi glared out at nothing in aggravation, then flicked her eyes down to finally see what it was.

Her eyes widened in confusion to be greeted with a pile of twisted, black hair. The confusion was short-lived as she realized that the hair was attached to Johnny, who was curled up in a ball beside her within the small space that her bent legs allowed, his head tucked comfortably under her chin. She blanched, and her cheeks quickly grew red from embarrassment and disoriented, shocked anger.

With a jolt of ego-preserving violence, she shoved him away and off of the bed, leaving only his skinny legs splayed in awkward angles atop the mattress. Devi sat up and glared at his boots.

“Johnny, what the Hell!” She huffed, her cheeks still tinged with color. Johnny rebounded from the initial shock of hitting the floor rather quickly, scampering up into a kneel at the side of her bed.

“OH, UH, I—” His own face blushed in shame, and he looked up to Devi’s glowering face, hoping that she wouldn’t be too angry with him. “I uh, I guess I… I fell asleep, after, um…”

His fingers drummed awkwardly against the sheets as he looked around the room noncommittally. Devi’s expression dropped as she remembered, foggily, Johnny coming into her room during the night in absolute hysterics. She grunted and scowled with some acceptance that he’d ended up passing out beside her.

“You moron.” Was all she could say. Johnny raised his eyes to look at her dejectedly, and she scoffed. She threw her legs off the other side of the bed, and walked around it, and Johnny, to reach her bathroom.

Johnny’s lip stuck out curiously. He wondered if that was going to be the extent of his punishment for unwanted physical contact, but dared not ask. Instead, he pulled himself up to sit on the corner of her bed and waited patiently for her to return. He hoped she didn’t come back with anything to hit him with, like the good, old-fashioned, ‘bar of soap in a sock’ flail.

Devi only washed her face, then reentered her room to frown at him. She crossed her arms at the sight of him sitting on her bed, and Johnny held his hands between his knees, timidly avoiding what he assumed was a bitter glare from her. Devi rolled her eyes as she sighed, and joined him on the edge of her mattress.

“Another nightmare, Nny?” She asked. Johnny’s head lowered from the annoyance in her voice.

“Yes…” He mumbled, twiddling his thumbs nervously. He heard Devi scoff again, and he felt further guilt that she was unaware of the seriousness behind his night terrors. After her unintentionally warm comforting the night previous, he felt compelled to tell her the truth.

“Devi, uh, I actually… there’s something I must confess.” Johnny looked to her, and Devi’s mouth flattened in surprise. She hoped silently that this wasn’t something romantic, given the already ridiculous start to her day. Johnny swung his legs absentmindedly.

“Well, you see…” A sigh. “I’ve been having these… “nightmares”, for months.”

“All of them have been about, well, killing you.” Johnny grimaced as he said it, and Devi’s expression shifted to a different kind of surprise. Johnny continued. “Each time I fall asleep, they get worse; more vivid, more violent. Last night’s was the worst one to date. It was so real, Devi, I—I swore that I’d killed you. I was so certain…”

His hands gripped at the fabric of his pants nervously.

“…I think Meat’s behind it.” He said finally, and Devi took new, startled interest in his admission. They were quiet a moment before Devi replied.

“You really think the dreams are his doing?”

“I do.” He affirmed. “He doesn’t speak to me very often now that I live here, but I’m sure it’s him. I… I don’t know why he’s doing it, but I’m sure that he’s influencing them to be so gory and… awful… and you-related.”

Devi pondered this new development with a healthy amount of bitter suspicion. As far as she knew, Reverend Meat wanted Johnny to live, and had yet to try and influence him to kill anyone. What he wanted Johnny to do was engage in normal human-y things, and lose himself to his emotions, to his feelings. His feelings for her, in this case specifically. She slid her attention back to him with her suspicions hidden, as to not inadvertently express it to Johnny, and Meat, by extension.

“Did you have a nightmare after you fell asleep in my bed?” She asked.

Johnny blinked, having not bothered to even think about that until she mentioned it.

“Oh… no, I didn’t.” He replied. Devi pursed her mouth, convinced she knew the reason for Meat’s meddling this time.

He was trying to drive Johnny directly into her arms, like a bovine herder whacking his cattle with an electric rod. It boiled her blood to think of that shitty little parasite being so crafty. It would be easy for Meat to convince Johnny, without words, that he was urging him to commit violent acts, like Johnny’s previous voices, when in actuality, he was still just pushing this ‘physical longing’ crap.

“I’m sorry Devi…” Johnny’s head hung pathetically. “I know I should have told you. I was just so afraid… Afraid that you wouldn’t… trust me, again.”

He lifted his head.

“So much has changed since we, uh, ‘reunited’, if you’d want to call it that.” He mumbled. “I was scared that everything would regress back to the way it used to be. Everything is so nice now, I didn’t want to disturb it if I didn’t have to.”

Devi frowned at him in disbelief. She was still unused to any kind of heartfelt comments from anyone, especially him. For a moment, she debated whether or not to inform Johnny of the conclusion she’d just come to.

It could be beneficial to let him know, even if that would let Meat know as well, but then Johnny would probably go out of his way to avoid any touching, and maybe even hide his emotions more, just as a precaution to keep any and all feelings for her in check and not vulnerable to the Reverend, as futile as that would be. Devi hated to admit that she… didn’t want that. She liked bothering him, and it was nice to have such a casual friendship with someone after all these years of crappy people and self-made solitude.

She let her shoulders sag in defeat to her own wretched feelings.

“Yeah, things are nice now.” She smiled at him. Johnny was surprised that she would agree with him, and grinned shyly back at her.

“You still should have told me though, idiot.” Devi added with a meaner smirk, and Johnny shrugged in reply with a laugh. Devi pushed his shoulder.

“I’ll forgive you if you make me breakfast.” She offered, and Johnny jumped at the opportunity.

“Okay!” His smile grew wider, and he began slinking off toward the kitchen, lingering as though he was urging her to follow him.

Devi snorted a laugh and got up to join him. She would just keep these nightmares under close observation for now, until she was sure that she was correct about Meat’s intentions.

--

NEXT.

[mini-monie]

SVT!Wolf au hyung line| Finding out you're their mate:

Maknae line

Choi Seungcheol

Usually he was a very focused leader and never let his mind wander too far away from his work. But when you introduced yourself as their waiter at a small restaurant at a roadside stop near the forest, he was rattled so much even the other members began to notice.

He couldn't get your scent out of his nose, practically tasting it on his tongue for the rest of the night, and it didn't help that two of his Betas had to pull him from his thoughts during patrol not once or twice but three times!

The next day after hazardously finishing up his work, he'd quietly slipped away from the pack to confront you at the restaurant again. He came in, head up, and immediately spotted you behind the cashier.

"I didn't know we had a lone wolf on our territory."

Yoon Jeonghan:

His packmates have never seen him this active. Jeonghan? Training? For seven days straight??? Pigs must be flying!

Actually, weeks ago he caught sight of you on their territory but you were too fast for him to catch. You returned the next week, and the week after that, and the next week, like clockwork. And every time you returned a silvery wolf kept chasing you down, the frustration! Let a wolf bathe in the river in peace for Moon Goddess's sake! In fact one time he actually pounced but you did enough damage to escape (hence the training).

Next week, Jeonghan requested he patrol on his own, again, of course his packmates were suspicious. He'd been requesting solo patrols for four weeks now, what was going on?

This time he caught you just crossing the boarder. When he finally managed to pin you down, you closed your eyes, expecting the killing blow. Instead, a kind voice from above spoke.

"Don’t be afraid. I’ll never hurt you."

Hong Jisoo:

That night he wasn't on patrol and had a gig. He would play at a small café called "Hug & Chilli" — owned by a few of his packmates — every other Thursday, and unbeknownst to him this Thursday night would be a very significant one.

As usual, the café would fill up a little more whenever he came, and he sat down on a little stool on the mini stage facing the audience, and began to play.

Everything was going smoothly, he was relaxed, getting swept up in the song but still engaging the audience, not minding the little spotlight, when the door opened and a pair of quiet feet joined the audience.

But for him your footsteps were loud and the music came to an abrupt stop. It was silent except for the small tic the guitar pick made as it dropped to the floor. He blinked a few times, staring across the room as the latecomer quietly ordered a drink. Heartbeats later he spoke into the mic, catching your curious gaze, and you heard a voice soft like silk, coming through the speakers.

“I'm sorry everyone. Actually there's a song I've been saving for someone specific. I'll sing it now, it's called, 'Falling For U."

Moon Junhi:

A colleague. The guy who sits next to you in economics and your friend in theatre. But really you can't figure him out. One minute he's throwing winks at you, the next he's furrowing his eyebrows at the script in his hand, or he's chattering away and making you laugh like there's no tomorrow. How'd you meet?

He approached fast and out of nowhere. Jun pulled open the door to econ, ignoring the awed stares from both the professor and the other classmates, and zeroed in on you, sitting in the back and scrolling through your phone. A wer like him, and something else. He felt that tug and half-consciously strode towards the back, pulled out the chair next to you, and sat down. He didn't say a word, now fully conscious of what he did. You tensed.

But later that day during theatre he strode up to you again, looking over your shoulder at a famous Shakespeare play in your hand. You turned, surprised at the close proximity.

"We could memorize the script a lot faster if we rent the movie this weekend."

Kwon Soonyoung:

Every full moon, Soongyoung, along with Jun, Minghao, and Chan, put on a performance at the Highlight club. It was a rather strange way for wers to release all pent up energy but hey, it worked. Another one of their Alpha's was the DJ, and that's how the deal began.

One full moon, during break mid-performance where Soonyoung usually rested at the bar, the door opened and you stepped in with jeans and a camisole, you were also barefoot, and looked pretty exhausted. The young wer almost fell off his seat, heart racing a mile a minute and ducked his head, hiding the wide, almost cheesy grin that spread across his face (also making sure his eyes weren't glowing). When he calmed down, he stole another glance your way, and wondered why you came in looking like you hadn’t showered in weeks! He became worried. You sat away from him on the other side of the bar and looked around. Soonyoung subtly ushered the bartender over.

"One glass of champaign, please? Not for me. Them."

He slipped away right when the bartender told you who the drink was from. Throughout the rest of the performance, the wer never broke his gaze from yours.

Jeon Wonwoo:

He's in heaven...and hell.

Wonwoo was absolutely delighted to discover at the tender age of 13, his library buddy wasn't only a good friend, but his mate. The catch? You're human. Yeah his hyung's mate is also human but you're a very fragile-hearted soul, a soul Wonwoo doesn't want to taint.

Eight years later and he still hasn't told you. Miraculously you haven't caught onto his other side all these years later.

How does he tell you without scaring you off? How does he show he'd never hurt you? You're a person that likes facts, and so far wer-lore isn't categorized under "facts".

The two of you have been sitting in Hug & Chilli for two hours now, studying (well he's trying), and Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Mingyu, have been consistently giving him impatient looks over the counter. He takes a deep breath.

"_____, what do you know about wolves?"

Lee Jihoon:

The DJ at Highlight? Yup that's Jihoon. Despite all the addictive, catchy, and heavy bass songs he blasts through the speakers, rumor has it he isn't very friendly.

As the part timer host, you know this very well. His physic may be small but he bites.

Yet to his annoyance, that hasn't stopped you from barging into his life and dragging out all these foreign emotions he didn't even know he could feel. Soulmate or not you had a knack for getting under his skin, and at first he really, really, really hated it. In fact it took his packmates forever to figure out what was going on. Some are still oblivious.

His sour attitude still didn't stop you from approaching him. But one day he found himself looking forward to your witty remarks. They even make him laugh if he's in a good mood that night.

"Stop pestering me and I'll let you pick tonight's playlist."

You couldn't say no.

— ೄྀ Mini ࿐

It's supposed to be a simple reaction scenario but oops my finger slipped and I've created a whole Svt!wolfau universe.

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

College AU! John Deacon x Reader: Roommates to Lovers Req. Pt. 1/?

A/N: obviously the timeline in this story does not quite match-up with reality, but this is a work of fiction. 

Original Request

@supersugarytea asked:

“Hey I was wondering if you could do a fanfiction where the reader lives with John Deacon and the reader meets Roger Taylor starts falling for him but when she confesses to him he turns her down. When you get home John senses there is something wrong with the reader and comforts her Roger goes to see her the next day only to find her sleeping with John and gets jealous.”

I am so so so so so so so sorry for how long this took me, please forgive me! BUT, I do finally have something for you, so I really hope you like it. I did tweak the prompt just a bit to where Reader already knows Rog but it follows essentially the same premise, I hope that’s okay! I also made this an AU where reader and the rest of Queen all go to the same school. I am in love with John Richard Deacon and since this will be my first fic with him, I really wanted it to be perfect and I liked this prompt so much that I’m turning it into a multi-shot (again, I hope that’s okay).

Warnings: Angst and Fluff. Smut to come (pun intended). 

Word Count: 3, 017 (Hence, why I made it a multi-shot). 

As always, I hope you guys like this and please please please reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent taglist and send me an ask if you have a request!

Masterlist

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

*beep*beep*beep*

You rolled over and slapped the top of your alarm clock, silencing the menace. If I skip washing my hair, I can sleep another 30 minutes, you thought, and closed your eyes. But before you could drift back off, the door to your bedroom flew open and you felt the bed drop behind you under the weight of your roommate, John.

“No, no, no.” You buried your face into your pillow.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, Y/N.” His fingers brushed your hair out of your face while his other hand rubbed circles on your back. “You told me, and I quote, ‘Deacy, don’t let my lazy ass oversleep on the first day of classes.’”

You groaned. He was right. You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed. John laughed at your hideous bedhead, and you shot him a glare. It was so hard for you to be mad at him, though. Looking him up and down, you could tell that he had clearly be awake long enough to get dressed. His long, curly brown hair freshly blow-dried and brushed, hanging neatly past his shoulders. He was dressed in a long-sleeved, dark Navy button-up shirt tucked into brown corduroy bells, white clogs adorning his feet.  Handsome as ever, you thought to yourself.

“I showered last night so that you would have plenty of hot water. Go get ready and I’ll fix breakfast.” By breakfast, he meant cheese on toast for himself and just coffee for you.

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite?” He laughed, giving your shoulder a squeeze before leaving your room.

You relished the feeling of the hot water pouring over your skin. The scalding liquid left your skin red, but that was just how you liked it. John knew that. Only he could be so considerate. You had randomly picked up a roommate flyer on campus when you’d first moved to start at Imperial College and somehow ended up with the best friend you’d ever had in John. The two of you had hit it off immediately and you moved into his apartment the next day.

Once dressed, you met John in the kitchen, where he handed you a steaming mug. “Thanks, love.” You gave him a peck on the cheek and turned grab your backpack. John’s heart swelled, but he quickly suppressed the emotion. He’d come to the decision a long time ago to never act on his feelings for you. He would much rather pine from afar than risk losing you forever.

You felt the same way. Every small act of kindness John threw your way set your heart on fire. Sure that you were reading too much into it, you kept your true feelings under lock and key. Your life was better with him than without, and you worried that any confession on your part would send him running in the opposite direction.

Pulling himself out of his own thoughts, John cleared his throat and looked to you. “Are you ready?” Nodding, you grabbed the keys to John’s car and tossed them to him. You followed close behind as he led the two of you out the front door.

Your morning rides to campus were some of your favorite moments with John, as they were some of his with you. No talking, just singing along to whatever music you’d settled on that particular day. You pulled a cassette tape out of the glovebox and pushed it into the radio dash.  A smile played on the corners of John’s lips as the sounds of Elton John’s most recent album, Honky Chateau flooded the speakers. You fast-forwarded the tape to play “Rocketman,” which was no surprise to John. He knew it had been stuck in your head for a while, having heard it seeping through the wall your two bedrooms shared. He learned early on that you fell asleep listening to music, and if it had been anyone else he would have complained. He often found himself humming along to whatever tune you’d selected for the evening, sometimes even drifting off himself. If he couldn’t share your bed, this was the next best thing, he thought. It made him feel connected to you.

You sang out every word. John loved how raw your voice was, like honey. His heart sank when he saw campus come into view, knowing he’d have to wait until later to hear it again. You looked over at John as he maneuvered the car into a parking place, his long, brown hair creeping over his eyes. Without thinking, you reached over and tucked it behind his ears. Your touch made him blush and he turned his head so you couldn’t see.

“See you at home?” You asked, unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for your bag that you’d tossed in the back.

“Are you not riding back with me?” John looked at you, confused.

You shook your head. “I’ve got lab today, so Rog is going to give me a ride home.”

You’d moved in with John before he joined the group now known as Queen, so the boys considered you to be as much a part of the band as he was. You’d made fast friends with Brian, Freddie, and Roger, and it was Roger who’d convinced you to take biology this semester. You were absolute shit at science of any kind, but he hadn’t wanted to take the class alone and swore up and down that he wouldn’t let you fail. You had begrudgingly agreed, much to the chagrin of John. He had nothing against Roger, they were close friends, but he knew the affect the blonde drummer had on women.

“Right. Forgot about that,” he mumbled, turning the car off and fumbling with his own seatbelt.

You slid your arms through the straps of your backpack and waved at John as you headed in the opposite direction of his first class. “Later, Deacs!”

It had already been a long day by the time you trudged into the science building. The professor for your first class had greeted you with a pop quiz to “see what you remembered” from the previous semester (which was nothing), and the professor in the class after that had decided that the first day of class was the perfect time to assign your first essay of the semester. Lunch was your only reprieve. The caf had been serving pizza, the only thing it could make that didn’t taste like it’d been soaking in dirty grease for a week beforehand. You managed to find your class with Roger just in time for the professor to call roll.

You quickly slid into the seat Roger had saved for you, and he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Cutting it a bit close, eh? I can only help you pass if you actually show up.” You elbowed him in the ribs and turned to deliver a snappy comeback when the professor cleared his throat.  

“Something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” The older man peered over the rim of his glasses at you and Roger, waiting for either of you to dare to make a move. The two of you went pale and shook your heads. “Didn’t think so.” As the professor moved on with roll, you pulled out your notebook and started doodling. Next to you, Roger bounced his leg.

The professor eventually finished going over the syllabus and instructed the class to get out their textbooks. “Um, Y/N?” Roger tapped on your shoulder and when you turned his blue eyes were looking up at you widely. “I haven’t gotten the book yet, think we could share?”

You smiled and scooted your chair a little closer to his, positioning the large biology textbook between you on the table. Your legs brushed against each other, and he winked as he leaned forward to scan the pages. Something was off. You watched Roger as he stared blankly at the page in front of him and you had the inkling that he wasn’t actually taking in any of the information.

Feeling your gaze on him, Roger squeezed his eyes shut before they fluttered open again, as if that would somehow suddenly restore his shitty vision to full-functionality. His eyesight had been steadily worsening over the past year despite his desperate pleas to whatever higher power he could think of. He hadn’t told Fred, Deacy, or Brian yet. Glasses weren’t exactly a part of the rock n’ roll image Queen was going for. Roger silently prayed that you would just let it go, but he knew you too well and the way you were looking at him indicated that you had figured it out. He sighed heavily as the professor dismissed the class, but you stayed glued to your seat, eyes still fixed on him. Roger waited for the room to clear out before finally turning to meet your stare. Your features softened as you took in the pained expression on his face.

“Rog,” you started, and he started to turn away but you reached out and took hold of his elbow, stopping him before he could escape. He spun to look at you, a look of distress hiding in his eyes. “Roger, are you okay?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh. Regaining himself, he flashed you one of his dazzling, toothy smiles that you’d seen him use on countless groupies. “Course, Y/N. Why wouldn’t I be?”  

“Are you having trouble with your vision?”

His gaze shifted to the floor, head dropping in defeat. He nodded.

“Loads of people have to wear glasses, it’s not the end of the world.”

Roger’s head shot up. “It would be for me. Queen is just getting started, we haven’t even recorded an album yet. Record labels are looking for a certain image and glasses don’t really scream ‘I am a drummer in a rock n’ roll band.’”

It surprised you how seriously he took this. “Have you tried going to the optometrist? At the very least, you need to know if this is something that could get worse. I’ll even drive you, if you like.”  

His eyebrows shot up. “You would really do that for me?”

You nodded and he responded by wrapping you up into a bear hug. After releasing you, he said, “Thank you, Y/N. Uh, please don’t tell anyone else about this. I know it sounds silly, but I don’t want the guys making fun of me.” You nodded. “I guess I better take you home now, yeah?”

“That would be great, but I think I’d feel a little better if you let me drive.” You both laughed at that and he tossed you the keys as the two of you made your way out of the classroom and towards the parking lot.

-------

John was sitting in the windowsill of his bedroom, staring out the window and practicing on his bass as he waited for you to come home. His heart skipped a beat when Roger’s car finally pulled up to the curb, but then sank when he saw you get out of the driver’s side of the car. His brow furrowed in confusion. Roger never let anyone drive his car, that is unless… he was trying to impress a girl. John’s blood pressure increased as Roger climbed out of the passenger side and walked over to you, his arms pulling you into a tight hug before waving goodbye. John was furious. He had confided in Roger about his feelings for you a while back, how could he do something like this? 

He didn’t have long to dwell on the supposed betrayal as he heard your keys jangling in the front door lock. John picked up his bass and moved to the bed so it wouldn’t look like he’d been waiting for you.

When your keys finally clicked in the lock, you opened the door and shrugged your backpack off, leaving it on the floor as you searched for your roommate. Following the soft strums of his bass guitar, you found him perched upon his bed. He was certainly a sight for sore eyes.  

He pretended not to have heard you come in, only looking up from his guitar to acknowledge your presence when he felt you belly-flop onto the mattress.

You sat up to sit next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder as he continued to pick at the bass strings. Looking down at you, he knew he couldn’t stay mad, at least not at you. He set the guitar to the side and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders before bending down to press a kiss to the top of your hair. Just friends, you had to remind yourself again. “Long first day?” he asked, and you nodded against his shoulder. “Me too.”

He sighed and rested his chin on top of your head. John wanted to ask you about Roger, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment. The two of you sat like that for a few more moments when you disentangled yourself from his embrace and stood in front of him. Locking your eyes with his hazel ones, you smiled. “Cheese toast?” Your question brought a smile to his face as he nodded, getting up to follow you into the kitchen.

Just as you’d finished the toast and were about to sit down next to John on the couch, the phone rang. You started to stand, but John beat you to the phone. “Hullo?”

John immediately recognized the voice on the other end as Roger’s. “Uh, hey Deacs, is uh Y/N there?”

John scowled. “Yes, why?”

“I need to talk to her about, uh, biology stuff. Yeah, biology stuff.”

You noticed the curious look on John’s face and called out to him. “Is everything alright, love?”

John resisted the urge to lie and say it was a telemarketer, instead opting to hold out the phone for you. “S’for you. It’s Roger.”

Strange, you thought. Why would Deacy be upset about Roger calling for me? But you didn’t have time to decipher his strange behavior at the moment and walked across the living room and into the kitchen to take the phone from him. John returned to the couch and pretended to be channel surfing while he attempted to listen in on your conversation.

You sidled up to the wall and pressed the plastic phone to your ear, finger twisting the chord. “Rog?”

“Y/N! Hey, so I was able to make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon around 4:30. You don’t have any classes then, do you? Shit I probably should have asked first.”

You laughed. “I get out of class at 3:30. Meet me in the library at 4?”

John went rigid on the couch. Based only on what he could hear from you, it sounded as if you and Roger were planning a date.

“Sounds good, Y/N. See you tomorrow, and thanks again.”

The line went dead and you replaced the phone on the hook. John frowned, but quickly settled on a channel to avoid suspicion as you made your way back over to the couch.

As you sat down, John attempted nonchalance, casually glancing at you as he said, “So, what did he want?”

Your cheeks flushed a light pink color as you scrambled to think of an excuse. “Oh, uh, he just had a couple of study questions. Y’know, for biology.”

One of John’s eyebrows shot up. “Studying already? Today was only the first day back.”

You gulped and stared at the television, desperate to avoid eye contact. All you could muster up was a quiet “yep.” He knew you better than anyone and could always tell when you were lying because you’d always grit your teeth, just like you were doing right now. He decided not to press the matter any further, just nodding slightly before settling deeper into the back of the couch.

Why didn’t you want him to know you were dating Roger? It doesn’t make any sense, he thought. You’d told him when some guy in one of your classes felt you up in the bathroom at the local pub. John’s jealousy had flared when you had, but he kept it to himself as usual (if only he’d known that the only reason you’d let Greg Leyland touch you because if you blurred your eyes he looked-vaguely-like John). What if you’d found out about his feelings for you? What if you weren’t telling him about Roger because you felt bad for him? John started to feel angry, he didn’t want to be pitied.  

Trying to move past the conversation, you picked up the remote that sat between you and John on the couch and turned the volume up on the TV. You set it back down on the other side of you and scooched closer to John, laying your head on his shoulder. He tensed up underneath you and you wished you could just tell him; you didn’t even understand why Roger was so worried. Freddie and Brian might make a few jokes at first, but they weren’t total arseholes. You hated lying to John. Even if he wasn’t your boyfriend, he was still your best friend.

John tried desperately to harden his resolve seeing your head on his shoulder made him melt all over again, however begrudgingly. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around you and let your head fall to rest on his chest. God, how you wished you had the courage to just reach up and pull his lips down to yours.

John longed to pull you tight against his chest and kiss you but restrained himself. Surely if you had reciprocated his feelings, you would have said so by now? In not saying anything, he thought, perhaps you were sending a silent message to let him down gently. The two of you just sat there both lost in thoughts of the other, unbeknownst to either party, silently watching the telly until you both fell asleep.

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Fic Taglist: @supersugarytea

Permanent Taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @disasterdeacy

[unfolded73]

How Do We Get Back (1/16) - schitt’s creek ff

(AO3 link)

Summary:  In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

Notes:  I'm really excited to start posting this fic which has been obsessing me for a few weeks. Thanks to @j-philly-b for being my New York-native nit-picker - pizza fight forever. See notes at the end for warnings about plot elements in this fic ... or don't if you prefer not to know.

Rating will be explicit in later chapters. This chapter 3.5k words.

______________________________

Soft music played from somewhere, infused into the space like just the right amount of an expensive perfume: not enough to draw attention to itself, but enough to help round out the aesthetic with taste and class. The white walls positively glowed under warm, carefully selected lighting, offering a contrast to the pieces on offer to buyers. Minimalist and spare, every item was lovingly placed by the owner in exactly the perfect spot to highlight its assets and mask its flaws. It was why buyers went out of their way to come here, or so the proprietor had been told in more prosperous days.

“Tell me about this sculpture,” said a woman in a severe suit and a severe haircut and impossibly high heels.

David Rose, the gallerist she was addressing, put his hands together in an obsequious manner and walked over to stand at her side. Her command had come without the courtesy of turning and looking at him; rather with the expectation that she would get a prompt response — she was the kind of woman who always got a prompt response.

“This is another exciting piece by Devonaé Streeter. She works out of New York now, but after a few months in Prague—”

“I don’t want to hear about the artist. Tell me about the work.”

David squinted an eye at the bronze sculpture, standing its solitary vigil on a white pedestal. He imagined the… woman? it depicted was looking back at him, or would have been if she had more than empty eye sockets to look at him with. He launched into his patter.

“Devonaé’s bronze works often challenge the viewer to look past the grotesque features of the art to see the grotesque features in themselves. This particular figure is an allegory for the way in which we fail to recognize each other’s pain, and I think—”

The woman turned on her heel and walked away, dismissing him and the statue with one quick wave of her hand. She turned her attention to the art on the walls, scanning over the canvasses quickly. David could almost see the calculations going on behind her eyes, like a scrolling ticker on a cable business news show. She wasn’t here to appreciate the art, she was here to find something to invest in. Most of them were, especially people like her.

“Tell me about that one,” she said, pointing to the largest canvas.

David winced. He would have taken the painting in question down a while ago, or perhaps never would have hung it in the first place, if he weren’t hurting a little bit for artists these days. And of course if he hadn’t signed a contract. He’d met Carmen at a party, and okay yes, she’d seemed a little crazy at the time but he’d assumed that was because of all the drugs they were taking. He’d agreed to display her art in his gallery. Now, months later, not a single one of the paintings had ever sold.

Clearing his throat, David said, “Carmen Herrera. She has a… unique vision, as you can see from this piece.” He focused on the track lighting above the painting as he talked; he’d never been able to look at this piece without developing an anxious flutter in his stomach. “It is intended to shock, of course. The worshippers…” He let his eyes glance over the blood-soaked imagery, wondering why he was bothering. This woman was never going to buy one of Carmen’s paintings. “The worshippers hurt themselves and each other at the behest of their goddess.” He gestured vaguely upward.

“Mictēcacihuātl,” the woman murmured.

“Umm… bless you?”

“The Aztec goddess of death,” she explained, still staring at the painting.

“Oh, uhh, yes exactly,” he vamped. “Personally, I’ve always thought the worshippers represent the American electorate, voting against their own self interest because of the lies politicians tell them.” He didn’t really think that. He wasn’t sure Carmen could have said, if pressed, who the President of the United States even was. But he gave potential buyers this line, figuring they might recoil a little less from the painting if they thought it was allegorical.

The sharp-suited woman couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of it. “No, I don’t think that’s what it’s about,” she said. Then she turned to him. “I’ll take it.”

David gaped at her for a second before he recovered enough to respond. “Yes, of course.”

After several minutes of dealing with the payment and shipping, tasks that always made David’s palms sweat with anxiety that he’d screw up some detail of the transaction, the woman was gone and the gallery was quiet as a tomb — its usual state. David sighed and looked up at Carmen’s terrifying painting. “See you never, you creepy fucker.”

He walked back into his office and pulled out his phone. Opening Instagram, David scrolled aimlessly through posts by celebrities and influencers, many of whom he had met and a few of whom he had fucked. When no images of his sister appeared after a few minutes of scrolling, he pulled up her profile and checked her last post — two days ago, which was very unlike Alexis. David’s heart started to hammer in his chest with familiar worry for his sister. He checked the time and counted forward. It would be close to midnight in Italy, probably as good a time as any to catch her on her phone.

Hey r u ok? he texted, and then spent a full minute watching for any sign of a return message before he clicked off the screen and tossed the phone onto his desk with a huff. Then when that dramatic gesture didn’t give him a result, he picked his phone up again, just in time for it to vibrate with an incoming call. He almost dropped it.

Seeing who was calling, David almost let it go unanswered, but at the last second he tapped the screen. “Hi, Dad.”

“David, how are you?” His father’s voice was always confident and booming, as if he could summon happiness if he just projected from his diaphragm. David held the phone away from his ear with a wince, and then put it on speaker before setting it down.

“Fine. Why are you calling me?”

“Do I need a reason to call my only son?”

David rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

There was a pause. “Well, actually, I just heard that Eli was released from prison.”

Pulling a nail file out of his desk drawer, David snorted. “What, and you’re going to rehire him as your business manager?”

“Well, of course not, David.”

“Good.”

“I’m never going to speak to him again.”

“Good.”

“I mean, can you imagine how our lives might have turned out if he’d managed to get on that plane to the Cayman Islands before the police caught him?”

“Yes, I can, because you’ve mentioned it an average of once a month for the last three years,” David said, taking a few desultory swipes across the end of the nail on his middle finger.

“I mean, it was bad enough with all the tax penalties we had to pay. If it weren’t for Eli, we’d still have the beach house!”

“Uh huh.” If David had heard all of this before once, he’d heard it a hundred times. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s on location with Sharknado 5. And you know, the prison that jackass was in was pretty swanky.”

“Then maybe Eli will actually be more miserable now that he’s been released. When does Mom get back?”

“Two more weeks. She’s got her phone in Bulgaria; you can call her.”

David didn’t want to call her. He wanted his father to call her so that she could talk him off of this angry ledge before he had another scare with his heart.

“Just… don’t worry about Eli, okay?” David set the nail file down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s not a part of your life anymore.”

“Damn straight he’s not.”

“Weren’t you telling me something about a new business venture at Christmas? Some kind of app?” David didn’t want to talk about this, or about anything really, but he figured he could at least try to pull his father out of this emotional tailspin about the former business manager who almost made off with the Rose family fortune.

“Yes, well, the spouting video market is quite crowded now, of course, but we’re making some in-roads. Slow and steady wins the race, that’s what I always say.”

“It’s streaming video. And that’s what you used to say about your rivalry with Blockbuster,” David snarked, his moment of charitability toward his father difficult to keep front of mind when he was being so irritating.

“And Blockbuster went out of business.”

“So did you!”

“It was a strategic restructuring, David. A shift into other markets. Like streaming video. Sure, the money isn’t flowing as freely as it did in the Rose Video heyday, but we’re doing fine.”

“Okay.” He went back to filing his nails.

“Are you still seeing… what was her name?” Johnny asked.

Trying to remember who his dad was even talking about, David squinted. “Who?”

“You know, the girl who used to eat garbage as performance art?”

David huffed. “Eliose didn’t eat garbage, she covered herself in… you know what, it doesn’t matter. We haven’t seen each other in months.”

“Oh. Is there anyone special in your life right now?”

An image of Brenton flashed in his mind. He was probably back in David’s apartment as they spoke, making the place reek of bong water and eating all of David’s food. He sighed. “No, no one special.”

“Well, don’t give up, son,” Johnny said. “How’s the gallery?”

“I just sold a painting.”

“That’s great!” his father boomed. “Good for you!”

“Okay, selling paintings is my job, you don’t have to praise me quite so effusively for doing my job.”

“No, of course I don’t need to. But I’m proud of you, son. Especially now that…” There was a moment of dead air.

“You still there?” David asked.

“Oh! Yes, I’m still here.”

“I thought the call had dropped. Now that what?”

An uncomfortable chuckle came out of the phone speaker. “You know, I forgot what I was saying.”

“Uhhh… okay.” David rolled his eyes again. “Anyway, the art business isn’t booming like it used to be, but today was good.”

“You know what? I just remembered I need to make another call,” his father said. “Sorry, David.”

“Whatever. You called me.”

“Talk to you soon, son.”

“Mm-hmm. Bye.” David tapped the screen and ended the call. He noticed the time and sighed, glancing out of his office door at the empty gallery. He might as well lock up and go back to his apartment. He moved quietly around the space, flipping off all of the lights and turning off the music that he played from a spare iPad that he’d gotten in a gift bag when he was Hayden Panettiere’s date to the 2012 Teen Choice Awards. Once he had his coat and messenger bag and had the security gate pulled down and locked, David pocketed his keys and stepped out onto the busy SoHo sidewalk. It had been misting rain for hours, the January day not cold enough to produce snow, but the temperature was now dropping below freezing and making the sidewalks treacherous.

The stationary store next door to his gallery was still open and doing a brisk business, and he was tempted to go in and look at the journals, but he resisted the impulse. Even though he used them sporadically, he’d already bought more empty journals than he could fill in a lifetime. The bar at the end of the block was also starting to fill up, and while he’d been known to get a drink there after closing the gallery, he wasn’t in the mood to be around people at the moment. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he summoned an Uber to ferry him the two miles to his apartment in Chelsea.

Braulio is 4 minutes away, his phone told him. While he waited, he texted Alexis again. Can you respond pls???

“Want me to talk or not talk?” his Uber driver asked as soon as David was settled into the back seat of the black Nissan.

“Don’t talk, please,” he responded. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no worries, man. That’s why I ask.” Braulio turned up his music a couple of clicks, the kind of unobjectionable, nondescript soundscape that was like something you’d hear in a modern hotel lobby. The driver had probably read on a website that it was the key to increasing tips or 5-star ratings.

David’s block on West 21st Street was packed with four and five-story apartment buildings, the short trees at regular intervals along the sidewalk offering a tiny break from the monotony of sandstone and concrete — although not this time of year, when they stuck up like twigs haphazardly shoved into the dirt by a giant, bored child. Shivering in his too-thin but fashionable jacket, he clicked on a rating for his Uber driver and shoved his phone in his pocket before making his way over to the short flight of stairs that led up to his building.

“Spare change,” a familiar voice called from a heap of blankets at the base of the building.

David opened his messenger bag and fished for the coins at the bottom. “It’s getting cold; you need to go to a shelter.”

“Not that cold,” the woman countered, holding her dingy Starbucks cup aloft. He dropped the coins in.

“The temperature’s dropping though.”

“Cold enough to ice skate.”

He took the non-sequitur in stride. “Well, not quite, but almost.”

“Your skates have to stay on the right line, ya know. You slip off and then suddenly—” She hit the cup, making the coins rattle. “Different universe.”

“Uh-huh. Will you go to a shelter, please? Don’t stay out here all night.” He re-clipped his bag and turned to walk away.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Mister Rose.”

“Well, I live here.”

“Not supposed to. Supposed to live in a motel with your family.”

David stopped and turned around. “What? Ew.”

“Rosebud,” she murmured.

“Oh, are we in Citizen Kane now?”

She hunkered down in her blankets, putting an end to what could only loosely be termed a conversation. Sighing, David left the homeless woman behind and entered the building’s vestibule. He then unlocked the inner door, shoving his way in with a grunt when the door inevitably stuck a little bit.

He mounted the one flight of stairs to his apartment. At the height of his family’s wealth, when David had been in his late twenties, he’d lived in a very posh apartment on the upper east side, but after the incident with his father’s business manager, he’d downgraded and moved to Chelsea. It was still a very nice, modern apartment, but it wasn’t what he’d once had.

The scent of sandlewood incense greeted him as he unlocked his door, and he wrinkled his nose and recoiled a little. Dropping his bag, he made his way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, hoping to find his leftovers from last night’s take-out. Of course they were gone. He slammed the refrigerator and swung around, ready to have it out with Brenton once and for all.

The man in question chose that moment to stride into the kitchen, shirtless, a pair of athletic shorts slung low on his waist. “Hey,” Brenton said. “Glad you’re here, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we sure do.” David tried not to let his eyes drift down to the v-shaped crease of Brenton’s hips and failed.

“I’m gonna go stay with my boyfriend in LA for a while, so…” He shrugged. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’m sorry, your what? You never mentioned a boyfriend before,” David said, grimacing. He’d met Brenton last month at a cocktail party he’d thrown at the gallery. Young and blond and in his mid-twenties, Brenton was the son of a well-known hedge fund manager, and he seemed to be a guy whose sole occupation was drifting from one party to another, looking for a good time. He and David had hooked up several times in recent weeks, but their conversations had been limited to fashion and art world trends and what kind of sex they were into.

“Because we weren’t like that, you and me,” Brenton said with a disarming smile. “This was never about, you know, unpacking our pasts. And we never said we were exclusive.”

“I know that,” David snapped. “I didn’t say I expected exclusivity. Still, you might have mentioned—”

“He and I were figuring some things out, you know? But he’s gone out there for pilot season and the auditions are stressful, so I think I really just need to be there for him.”

“Oh, he’s an actor,” David said. “How fun for you.”

There wasn’t really much more to say, so after a few more empty platitudes from Brenton, he disappeared into David’s bedroom to get dressed and to gather whatever belongings he’d brought over in the course of their month-long affair. David sat at the kitchen island and flipped through an issue of Vogue without seeing the pages. He probed a little bit at his feelings, pressing against them like you’d touch a bruise, trying to determine how painful it was. He didn’t really care that much about Brenton — he was shallow and mostly unkind. David didn’t think he’d miss him. What did hurt was once again being shoved aside as soon as something better came along, after a lifetime of being shoved aside as soon as something better came along.

Once Brenton was gone, David tried cracking open a window to air out the apartment, but quickly closed it when it let in a biting cold wind. He was starting to get a headache, and he reached up to massage the back of his neck, trying to stave it off. Pulling out his phone, he checked Alexis’ instagram again, and then opened his messaging app.

[David] 911. Call me.

Surprisingly, his phone rang only a few seconds later.

“David, what? What’s the emergency?” Alexis sounded manic and not a little annoyed.

“I’ve been texting you all evening!” he almost shouted. “I’m sorry for worrying that you were dead.”

“I’m fine, why would I be dead?”

“Your social’s been dark for days.”

“Ugh. I’ve just been busy, David, I don’t have to post something every day as proof of life, do I?”

“You have to at least respond to my texts, Alexis.”

“Look, the club we were in might’ve gotten raided by police earlier, a little bit, but it’s fine because we found a back way out and we ran. It’s no big deal.”

“It kind of sounds like a big deal,” David said, rubbing his neck again. The headache was getting worse; the muscles running down from his skull were like iron rods. “Why were the police raiding the club?”

“How should I know what the Monaco police were doing?” she asked.

“Monaco? I thought you were in Italy.”

Alexis laughed. “Monaco is in Italy, David.”

“Monaco is a separate country, Alexis.”

“No, it’s… is it? Well anyway, Tiff and Lily and I are back at the hotel. I might come home, though. Stavros called and he wants to see me.”

David moaned unhappily. “Alexis, no, don’t go see Stavros. You’ll end up getting back together with him and that would be a terrible life choice.”

“Speaking of terrible life choices, is that Brett guy still crashing at your place?”

“It’s Brenton, and we were seeing each other, he wasn’t just ‘crashing’ here.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And it’s over anyway.”

“Oh.” Her voice softened for the first time. “I’m sorry, David.”

He waved his hand, not that she could see him. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t like him that much. He was just really hot.” He looked around the quiet, empty apartment. “You could stay here for a while, if you want.” Alexis was a chaos engine, but he also kind of missed her. Her whirlwind life would keep him from thinking about his own sad existence as much.

“Ew, what? Why? I’ve got way more space at Mom and Dad’s, and when I want to stay in the city, Klair lets me stay at the apartment with her stepmom. Who’s actually really cool, although she takes way too many pills.”

“Fine, whatever. Far be it from me to come between you and Klair’s stepmom.” He fluttered his hand again.

“Okay, don’t be like that. See, David, I know how you are. You’re lonely right now and you think you miss me, but you’d be sick of me the second I set foot through your doorway. You’d complain that I was too messy and that my friends were too loud and that I hadn’t used a coaster for my water glass.”

“Well, if you’d use a coaster—”

“David, it’s 3 a.m. here and you’re lecturing me about a hypothetical coaster. I’m gonna get some sleep now, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Go to Mom and Dad’s if you’re lonely,” Alexis said.

“I’m not lonely.”

“Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight, Alexis.”

(Chapter 2)

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[additional content warnings after some spoiler space]

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[last warning]

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This fic will include a temporary character death, the temporariness of which should be obvious by the time it happens. Also note that this fic does include marital problems and adultery committed by Patrick, who didn't meet David in Schitt's Creek in this timeline, and (as you will see in the next chapter) ended up marrying Rachel. Just giving you an extra warning for that if it squicks you out.